One numpty and a whole lotta love

Oi! Terrorists! Listen up dudes cos this is getting overly dull, and no one likes overly dull on a Monday, they're bad enough as it is, thanks. So yeah, YOU bellend, get those ears at the ready....I mean I know you're not particularly bothered by inconvenient facts and shit, but I'm giving you my two penneth (medieval monetary value, essentially borrowed from about the same time as your ideology) so listen up.

Right, first off, terrorism bad, obvs... but also foolish. It doesn't work with us Brits and if you think so you're a numpty. Your mate who agrees with you is a numpty. Whoever condones, sanctions or concurs with your whacked out ideas is a numpty. The list of numpties goes on, you lot are taking the numpty biscuits, and frankly anyone that sounds like a cross between an angry potato and a rather uncomfortable chair, well, you can't scare me, so big fail fail to you, you NUMPTY.

Secondly, lets address a few things. What you did in recent weeks was vile. Goes without saying (even though I've just said it). But what you ain't reckoning on is us Brits. I know it's been said before, we've experienced terrorism before and probably will do again thanks to your your numpty rumpty ways. But let me count things down for you.

So, to London. I mean, douchebag, we've been here before!! Before you lot and your backward ways, before the IRA, before the Nazis, hell, people have attempted to destroy my home town more than I can remember, and certainly more than you can, what with your brain the size of a mentally deficient fruit fly. Jeepers, people have been trying to have it since James I's time (or VI of Scotland, lets not leave out our Caledonian chums) and then some, have they knocked us down yet? Have they heck! Instead our house prices just go up, our population expands, and people flood to this city the world over for good times & to create lives they want to live.... in freedom. Think you're gonna defeat us? I think not you bellend. The only things we get defeated by are (& not necessarily in this order)

1. Leaves on the line
2. Snow on the line
3. Most things on the line
4. Pret running out of them lovely cheese and ham toasties before lunchtime (rare, but it has happened. Mmmm, I love them toasties. Think it must be the mustard)
5. Top Shop on a Saturday
6. Tube strikes (even then we're not defeated, more just pissed off cos, y'know, queues....)
7. House prices
8. People walking slowly down Oxford Street
9. Buses changing destinations without any good reason WHATSOEVER. FFS. I mean, who does that?
10. Annoying kids listening to shit music out loud without even the grace and decency of a headphone (NB am sure this is not restricted to London alone, just decent minded people the world over)

See your name here buddy? See your actions or your consequences? You think you're putting off people from coming to my HOME TOWN?? Hellll no, and the fact you think you will see your name in my top ten just goes to show what an absolute numpty you are. There. I said it again. Numpty.

Now to Manchester. I was blessed enough to live up them there northern ways for a few years, and I learned a lot you could do with taking a note of. First of all Mancunians are hilarious. I mean, these are a people who despite your efforts to hurt them, went out and got their own skins permanently (and painfully) etched with a tattoo just to flick you the bird (or the working bee as it happens). D'you hear that? In response to you trying to hurt them, they went and hurt themselves as protest? Not only a fantastic sense of humour, but they're hard as nails, don't f*ck with them.

And speaking of comedy, this is a town where it essentially pisses down with rain approximately 98% of the year, but yet create some of the most joyous things you could put in your ears ever. They create epic music known the world over, I mean, have you listened to some of it? The Stone Roses, Joy Division, Oasis, Elbow, fuck, they've even got a band called the Happy Mondays. Essentially a band named after being chirpy on the worst day of the week! And if Mondays aint gonna lower the mood of a Mancunian, you think you are? Pffft. You've never been to Manchester have you? 

It's a part of the world that puts pies in bread rolls just for japes and call it dinner. If cholesterol and heart attacks don't phase them, you and your small minded (if somewhat explodey) activities come way down the list on scary things they'll encounter that day, and don't even get me started on their mushy peas... But how did Manchester respond to your toe-rag activities? Well, they all became even better mates, helping each other out, and throwing a massive bloody concert to have a good time, probably getting a wee bit tiddly in the process and turning up for work late the next day. Take that literally, and party.

So while the North and South may divide themselves on flat vowels, HS2, how much to pay for a pint and football (it's always football) one thing we do agree on is you, and how we ain't taking your shit. Northern or Southern we aint got time for that nonsense. We're too busy enjoying our lives, listening to good music, eating pies (bread rolls not withstanding), hooning it down the street with a pint in our hands (while not spilling a drop) and generally revelling in the freedom that our country gives us. So eff off you twat, and take all your twatty mates with you, we have no time for you or your foolhardy shenanigans, and even less inclination.

Fucking numpty.

The price of love

Unlikely....
I really love my iPhone

Well it's that time of year again, the time for roses, chocolate, and Sophie writing a blog which makes all of her loved up friends glad not to be her. I jest (mildly) of course, as most of my mates view my dating life as one to live gregariously to.... “he said WHAT?” (something very rude on only our 2^nd drink), “he did WHAT?” (cried about his soon to be ex-wife over starters), “he dumped you WHEN?” (day before my birthday since you're asking), followed by the inevitable “Oh Sophie, your stories do make me laugh” etc etc. And while my love life is indeed quite the laughing matter, I'd now, on this most romantic of days, like to tell you it aint all coming up roses. Especially in the financial department.

You see, you smug marrieds (or long term relationshippers) have your costs to bear, them flouncy, bouncy wedding dresses don't come cheap after all. But that aint a patch on the costs we have to bear in single life. Naw, am not talking vast boxes of tissues required as we weep into our solitude on Valentine's night (and since tonight I'm watching 3 hours of Idris Elba prancing around on my tellybox, kickboxing in nowt but his altogethers, no sobbing required thanks very much), but the price we pay for just existing without throwing ourselves off the nearest bridge, well that is some financial burden to bear.

The Valentine's Card
I found today

Think about it, we pay all of our household bills and housing costs alone with no one to share the bed with, and speaking of beds, them hotel rooms get kinda pricey holidaying alone. And don't get me started on gifting... I mean, we're not resentful of your joys in life, and engagements, weddings & christenings cost everyone. However they costs us twice the price and goddamnit, we want someone to celebrate us every now and then. Carrie Bradshaw got it right when she said “If you are single, after graduation, there isn’t one occasion where people celebrate you”. In fact the only day we make a saving is Valentine's, unless you count the piles of chocolate we bought ourselves or the latest bulk purchase of therapy sessions which we inevitably need at the realisation we are utterly repulsive to the opposite (or indeed same, let's not be heteronormative) sex. So overall life is pretty pricey when you go it alone, and 25% off our council tax cuts very little mustard.

Oh, and dating, oh dating. Smug marrieds, do you know just how expensive it is to date nowadays? A study by The Centre of Economic BusinessResearch concluded a few years ago that the average single now spends £127 per date! Cor! That's nowt to be sniffed at, especially for this girl who doesn't like a guy to pay for everything. But £127?? While it may not include the cost of the valium when it all goes wrong, it does apparently take into account the following factors:

The  guerilla marketing ploy
it turned out to be

- Clothes: Understandable, turning up naked might get the date off to an entirely awkward (to say nothing of chilly) start

- Transport: I rarely travel beyond zone 5 for a date, but still Transport For London make a pretty penny out of my love (or lack thereof) life

- Hairdressers / beauty treatments: That said, mine goes no further than a good hair straighten, perhaps where i'm going wrong?

- Gifts: considering last year I didn't get a Valentine's Day card, let alone a gift, from a guy I had started dating, I think we can wipe this one off his lists of costs if no one else's. Needless to say, the gift of a bottle of rather nice port I got him stayed on the shelf for some time.... until I drank it all myself while skyping my similarly single Canadian friend at 3am, obvs.

- Cosmetics: well, understandable, no one wants to see my unmade up mug

- Contraceptives: you have to admire the optimism on this one!

And this doesn't even include any pretty penny spent on dating subscriptions neither, which begs the question, can one put a price on love? It seems very much so.

But apparently with all of our £127s splashing about all over the shop, we're doing wonders for the post Brexit world. That self same report said that in our quests for love (or sometimes just lust), us singletons are contributing over £5 billion a year to the British economy! Not chuffing bad single lonely people, we're doing good! We're very much a one man, or indeed one woman, Brexit recovery plan! GET IN! So next time we're down the pub, out for dinner, buying paltry gifts for your 3^rd child's latest birthday/exam celebration/christmas present, take pity on us. Don't pity us for our singledom, don't pity us for our solitude, pity us for our empty bank balances and get that next round in on our behalf. Cos we might not be feeling too flush after all of our unsuccessful dating forays. Saving the economy one date at a time really does cost, and in a post Brexit economy, you owe us one.

Now I'm off to watch Idris Elba & knock back some vino, enjoy your overpriced steak and chips and cost of a ramped up Uber home. This single woman has some perving to do. 

HELL YEAH

New Year, New You & other such nonsense

Another dollar another year, or something like that.... And while I still seem to be recovering from the nut buckling doozy that was 2016, time marches ever forward with the inevitable tedium that draws us all one day closer to our own deaths. So hello 2017. You better not be the fuckwit your predecessor was, or I'm gonna have to have words.  

On the whole it seems a case of same me, different year, with a momentary pause for reflection. Now I'm not holding aloft the greater matters of the year gone by for pontification, but there are some things that inevitably come with a new year... and I'm not talking hangovers. Yep, it's the fodder of January editions the magazine world over cos it's resolution time. 

Now, usually I'm not much of a one for resolution. It demands a framework for action, a plan, a commitment to 'something'.... basically not very me. However THIS year there's a difference. This year there's something new in the air, I can positively sniff it, and trust me, it's smelling peachy. What is it that is aroma might you wonder? That waft under the nostril that is tainting my January so? Well, doggone it, it's only the sweet smell of success! And I likes it! 

My very own scarfgasm

Y'see last year, last year I made My First Resolutions (ladybird edition), and wouldn't you know? I only went and stuck to em! I know! Amazing! Me, the ginger of very little willpower! But I'm not just resting on my resolutory laurels for 2017, oh no. This year it's time for more, and I don't care who knows it. Previous readers of these here witterings may be aware of my 2016 intentions, which included my determination to learn to knit as well as achieving great acclaim on the Fantasy Football pitch.  Although I may have dropped out for this year, I was positively thrilled with my Fantasy Football accomplishments last year (in which I only had a little help), but what about the knitting? Well my friends, colleagues, distant relatives, bare assed strangers (ok, maybe not the strangers bit) will all attest to my knitting prowess. 2016 was the year of the needle, with home knitted Sophington Towers scarves positively flying out the door. There were stripey ones, solid ones, red ones, black ones, green ones, ok, I'll stop listing here, but needless to say there were scarves making up the whole colour spectrum, all knitted by myself and gifted to grateful associates. Well, grateful might be overstating it, but people got scarves, and if nothing else 2017 is gonna be a whole load toastier for all everyone involved. But that brings me to resolution number 1, that of knitting. Goddamnit I'm gonna learn to knit something that isn't a scarf! I mean, scarves are all well and good but one's neck only takes so much warming, so it's time this girl learned to knit round corners and I'm starting with hats. There's a limit to how many scarves a world can take (or knitted boob tubes if you get creative), but hats? Now that's a whole different kettle of fish and it's time to get my pom pom on. 

The post death dive Kamikaze iPad

You might think one resolution is enough for anyone, but oh no. I'm doubling up, cos it's time for resolution number 2.... safe hands! Right peeps, I'll fess up. I'm a klutz. I fall up things, down things, over things, under things, generally fucking shit up with my blundering ways. Despite the great efforts of my childhood Irish dancer teacher, I have all the grace and poise of a baby elephant (or small heffalump as my dad aptly named me – cheers pops). Sadly 2017 has already suffered it's own casualties, namely that of my iPad who took a kamikaze death plunge from my hands this week, throwing himself out of my clutches, preferring the solid, calm assurance of a laminate floor. Unfortunately for Mr iPad, the flooring did not welcome such a union, choosing instead to attack Mr iPad with such violence that his screen shattered into a squillion different pretty patterns. Aww, laminate flooring, you're SUCH a dude! Needless to say, pounds are out of pocket, and little Mr iPad is off for repair. Hence resolution number two NO MORE BREAKING OF IPADS! No more Apple suicides! No siree,  cos I'm gonna be careful. I'm gonna be coordinated. These hands are gonna be safer that Seaman's (the footballer! Ew, you guys!), there'll be no more broken iPads on my watch! Or at least, I'm gonna buy myself a case, which in itself is a Very Fine Start. 

Don't mess with the LouLou

But why stop here? Two resolutions? Whatevs. Pussies. Bring on the third! 2017 is the year of the resolution and I'm blimmin well having it! And trust me, this one's epic, cos I'm getting meself a catchphrase! Now, the words in question needed discussing, I needed an outside opinion and who better to ask than my mate Lou?  Lou is a never one to keep quiet, she has an answer for everything, she's known for her 'bantz' and more often than not, it's downright filthy. However, she's not a catchphrase girl, with her phrases not really catching & more floating along on the breeze of her conversation, drifting in and out like a Harry Potter dementor. But after I had revealed I'd spontaneously busted out the same words several times on New Years Eve (no doubt fuelled by cider) she thought it was phrase that needs to be adopted sharpish. Since you're asking the phrase in question is the ever so modest (but entirely true) “I'm amazing”. After all where's a girl without a little positive affirmation in life? And according to Lou, it's got legs so that's it sorted. No one argues with Lou.

So that's me. Those are my resolutions for the year. So watch out 2017, you're the year of the hat, and what I don't spend on iPad repairs, I can invest in wool. And trust me, that's A LOT of sheep. And thank you 2016, not for your unflinching barrage of celebrity deaths, nor your torrent of political buffoonery, but for your ability to give me a resolution and help me keep it. You've been helpful, but now your time is over. Just step out of the way, cos it's my turn now, and I'm amazing....