Tag Archives: idiots

Festival Fun

I have just rolled in from a weekend of attempting to be a festival bunny, stinking to high heaven after abusing baby wipes, eating cold beans, curry and burgers for breakfast.

Last year, Kendal Calling was my first ever festival and it was amazing, the sun was shining, it didn’t rain once and nearly every act we saw was unbelievable. This year was a tad different. Instead of being woken up by the smell of bacon and birds tweeting, we were woken by rain battering our tent, something that we had been totally prepared for, not so much for the mud.

It was so damn thick, yet managed to outsmart us. We thought this year, we would be crafty and pay for a pre erected tent to save our little arms carrying everything, since last time we all had arms like Mr Tickle; the mud had other ideas. It took us forever to find our tent, we nearly lost our wellies getting stuck in the mud and we all had burning calves after the trek through the depths of churned up fields that smelt pretty suspect too.

Nothing a few drinks couldn’t solve! So we made a little funnel out of tin foil and decanted our Bourbon into two Capri Sun pouches, shoved them down our pants and skipped off to wade through the slop again. The first night was a slight blare.. We listened to some cool music, hit the fair, the silent disco and maybe the Glow Tent..my mind goes very, VERY hazy midway through the silent disco, after changing my headphones four times because ‘they were broken’. It was clearly me that was broken, I was a hot mess. On the mission back to the tent, myself and my friend ended up losing each other and wandering into the wrong field, I fell into 3, maybe 4 tents, fell over numerous tent ropes and caked myself in mud, before randomly bumping into my mate in the wrong field again.

This pretty sums up the whole weekend as we proceeded to burn a hole in our lovely rented tent, ended up sleeping on the floor thanks to some awesome blow up beds, wrapped up in foil blankets, heard a couple having some pretty uninspiring sex (or struggling to pack their tent up) and spent the whole last day speaking in an Australian Accent. I have never said the word ‘Salamander’ so much in my life. I don’t even really know what a salamander is, although I do know that it is not in fact, a baby dragon.

Although I absolutely loved the weekend as it was spent with two absolutely bonkers ladies that make me howl, it has made me realise I may be getting to old for this camping malarkey, even though I’m only 29!

I used to love a good four day bender, camping and not having to wash my hair for any long period of time, now I would rather the opposite! The post-camping smell is totally soul destroying, I can’t cope with sleeping for less than 6 hours a weekend and I bloody love a pair of slippers, a festival no-no. So next year, we are going to do it properly and make our own festival!

It wasn’t all bad, some serious life lessons have been learnt..

  1. Putting a gas camping stove on the ground sheet of a tent will result in a serious hole in the floor
  2. The truth about Dolphins
  3. The smell of a festival toilet never really leaves you
  4. Capri Sun pouches are an alcohol smugglers dream
  5. Don’t let Kayleigh drive shot gun, unless you like having perforated eardrums or listening to the ‘Miley Cyrus’
  6. My Australian accent is borderline offensive.
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The single persons catchphrase

‘Don’t worry, you will meet someone when you least expect it’

Oh how I had missed this phrase after years of being in a relationship. Luckily for me, I am having it thrown at me from around every corner now I am single but I have more than had my fill. The idea of this sentence irritates me. Like every single guy/girl is sat at home every night worrying about being alone forever, or expecting to meet someone and constantly looking at every bloke they talk to for even a hint of attraction.

It always starts the same:

-Any men on the scene?

-Hows the dating going?

-Got yourself a fella yet?

Followed by my standard ‘go-to’ response of ‘no thank god’. I really need a new comeback to these questions..

People don’t seem to realise that a woman can actually choose to be single and like it. I have never been the type of person to need someone to ‘complete’ me. I just don’t understand these people who have a new love of their life every week, or that collect engagement rings or the ones who feel that they need to announce their partner as ‘me werld’ on facebook one minute and a total twat the next, usually for doing something stupid like forgetting to do the dishes.

I am certainly not a ‘bitter man hater’ either. I don’t feel the need to constantly slag men off or go on an ‘all men are dickheads’ rant on facebook. I am totally choosing to be single. I have always been an independent little sausage; taking myself off to the lakes or somewhere quiet when I need to recharge my batteries, going somewhere new alone or just chilling my beans at home. I am now literally dating myself which isn’t always easy, I stubborn as hell and borderline annoying 98% of the time which makes the arguments hard work!!

Another thing I love as much as the above phrase is when people seem to think that you want to be set up with every single man within a 5 mile radius or that if you talk to a guy or make eye contact with him you must be having sex with them on the sly. My favourite attempt at a ‘set up’ was..

‘Ooh I saw you talking to (insert ANY male name here), is there something going on? What about them? Well why don’t you just have some fun with him instead?’

Followed by me shouting ‘Erm, I can sort myself out thanks’ a bit too loudly. Not the best thing to shout in a hospital environment!

So I am not worried, as the phrase states, I know I will meet the perfect guy at the right time. I won’t be settling for any more idiots that asks me out, i have deleted myself off every dating app and i certainly wont go for the one that asked me ‘do you want to be my fuck buddy?’.. I said no of course, who asks such a question?! I am more than happy being on my own, having my own little retro sanctuary, being totally stress free and not being moaned at for leaving Kirkby grips spread around the house (note to guys: this is how women mark their territory).

I am Bridget Jones and living the dream..Now I’m off to eat my body weight in cake and have a hormonal breakdown because i can never have Ryan Gosling in my life..but i do love The Notebook.

Curse of the Fuck boy/Bad boy

Last time I was single, over 4 ish years ago, there was no such thing as a ‘fuck boy’, there were just dick heads that you would steer clear of. Then last year, I saw the term getting banded around on social media. I always thought the girls who go after these guys are absolute idiots who must know full well what they are getting themselves into. Just like the same idiots who chase after bad boys constantly. It turns out i am now in that idiot category.

My ideas of the difference between a fuck boy and a bad boy;

Bad Boys:

-Exude confidence to the point that it’s contagious

-Unique rebel – will smoke in front of a non-smoking sign

-Claims not to follow trends, then grows a beard and gets a tattoo

-Has a certain cheek that draws you in

-Will flirt with your mates just because he can

-Known for causing trouble or murder with your mates

-Will happily get into a relationship with you, until he finds something shinier to play with

-He’s not one for meeting the rents or making future plans

-Will make no effort to convince you that he isn’t a dick, he totally owns it.

-Their purpose in life is to give you that awesome memory to look back on, that excitement, fun fiery fling to fantasize about when you’re old and not getting any.

Fuck Boys:

-Will reel you in with comments of your future until you are convinced it’s going somewhere, even if it’s an offer to go to Nando’s next month

-Will constantly compliment you while your together, then not speak to you for weeks

-Randomly requests nudes and you know full well they will be shown to his mates

-Appear cheeky and cute, can only hide the dick head undercurrent for at least 3/4 dates

– Speak only in emojis, like the water splashes, tongue and especially that poor, violated marrow thing

– Use terms like ‘dick appointment’, because he is a twat.

-Has the ability to make you forget why you stopped talking, or exchanging emoji’s

-Pretends to be a nice guy but only cares about himself

– Usually very hot, and they know it

-Their idea of flirting is – what would you be doing if I was there now? Or in their vocab – wha wud u be doin if I was ther?

– Their purpose in life is to lead you on and play with your feelings more than they play with you.

My advice to any ladies dating either..

Have that hot, fiery fling with the bad boy, you will need that to reminisce on. Also, you need that one guy that your mates can keep bringing up after every night on the wine.

If you must pick from the fuck boy tree, treat him the same. There is nothing wrong with a disposable fling,  don’t book that table at Nando’s and whatever you do, don’t use that poor marrow plant emoji in conversation!!

To summarise, you know what you are getting with a bad boy, a fuck boy however, is a bit of a snake. I am usually such a good judge of character and bin them off as soon as I get a hint. Although I have to admit, like many others have fallen into the trap of one, hooked on good vibes, the promises of future outings, having amazing nights together and wondering if you could give up your beloved freedom for them. This is not me at all. I can control my emotional beans for ages, these fuck boys are damn good,  damn hot and are actually damn likeable. Now i have learnt to play the game and play it well. Also, these strange alluring creatures are found mostly on Tinder.