Another Blog In A Free

Providing you wait a moment for me to grab my ipod out, you may read my witterings.
I am also starting to get a fairly hellish cramp, so I may suddenly abandon you to take a shitload of painkillers and sit in a corner and sleep.
Not that that will get any work done.
Not that any work was going to GET done until second period.
It is getting to that sort of weather where I dig through the shelf under the computer for my gloves and hat, and pick one of the many scarves hanging in the hallway just to get me to college without hypothermia.
This actually makes me really quite happy.
It is supposed to snow by the end of the month, which is glorious.
Would LOVE a snow day.
Will have to get wellies before then.  The only boots I have either have three inch heels, or very tiny, but significant, holes.
My trainers then don't have enough grip.
Not using my heels as ice picks either.
So I shall have to get welly boots.
It would make me happy if I could find some of those could have frog faces on them.
I miss have wellies with frog faces on them.
I think this came up in a previous blog.
It did.
I just spent ages reading them.
I bitch a LOT.
But then again, no-one is forcing you to read this.
Starting to get hungry now, and I know exactly where all my money is.
On top of the bathroom cabinet at home.
:(
Cup of tea and a bit of cake would be amazing.
Elevenses at nine o'clock in the morning.
Om.
And also Nom.
I have a book in my bag.
In so far it is drivel, but that's okay.
Tempted to leave the library, borrow a quid of someone and buy a BIG cuppa, because then you get free biscuits with it.
Mmmmmmm, 'squits.
Hilariously, I planned to do Film work in the lesson.
Sat in the library. XD
We watched a documentary in Film.  There were a lot of complaints about it's factual nature.
You can't see me rolling my eyes, but I am.
There was a clip from Scream in it, which I have not seen.
I am assured that it is not all that scary, but very jumpy.
I don't know as to whether or not it is not scary.
What I DO know is that it IS INDEED VERY JUMPY.
There's a bit right near the start where she is creeping along outside the house trying to escape, and comes across a window.
She looks up, and there is a black figure in the window, facing away.
Then it turns round really suddenly, and there is this screaming mask on whoever it is.  That white and black one that is all stretched out and weird.
The mask wasn't scary.
It was the sudden bit and the expectation of seeing just the dark insides of a hood, and then not, that scared me.
To the point where I jumped a mile, shouted "Shit!!" really loudly, and shook for about five minutes afterwards, laughing in a way that can only be described as slightly hysterical.
I was pretty much the only one, as far as I could see.
The teacher had to pause the film while "we" (he meant me) regained "our" (my) composure.
Bless him, he was quite worried for me.
Good thing horror movies aren't on the syllabus, let me tell you.
I'm very, very bad at horror.
There are too many needles.
Even in films that aren't horror, there are too many needles.
Like in Girl, Interrupted.
The library is doing that thing where it gets cold again.
So far, I CAN still feel my fingers, but I'm going to have to step it up a pace in my frees on Friday.
Maybe gloves.
Whilst gloves make it tricky to type, they do make me WARM.
I think I still have my fingerless ones from last year.
Mother was right about this not being enough clothing.
A run down:
-Boots that come about up to my calves, tan, leathery, a bit beaten up.
-Shitty tights that I got from a supermarket that have weird black tiny ladders in them.
-Black cotton skirt that has two layers.
-White vest.
-Red cropped cardi, only one of the buttons done up because otherwise I look like a fatty.
-Undies, obv.
Wearing a jumper dress tomorrow, if I can get a pair of leggings clean tonight.
Or decent tights.
I do actually have a pair someplace.
Might also appeal to my mother to let me keep the money I owe her to spend it on essential warm clothes.
However, cannot do this while blogging.
Shall have to write a to-do list.
Hanna, who is nice deep down, wrote on my to-do list the other week; Shag "Adam".
She wants me to tick it off.
I would put a photo, but it has his real name rather than Adam, and whilst those who bother to read this shitty excuse for a memoir know his real name ANYWAY, it would feel like a betrayl of trust. (Look at me being a good girl and not kissing and telling.  Sort of...)
The Crunchie in my lunch box is calling me.
We don't really have packable food in the house atm.
I have, therefore, ended up with the following for lunch:
- Six pastry twists, butter flavour.
- Crisps, S+V flavour.
- Crunchie, Crunchie flavour.
- Two mushrooms, raw flavour.
Yes, I eat raw mushrooms.
Must figure out a way to remove the bookmark Adam has of this blog.
Not exactly a good catch.
My father grilled me about him the other night.
His exact words were "So, have you selected a new victim yet?"
Myself: "Victim?"
Dad: "Yes, victim. Like (insert Ex's name here)."
Myself: "You mean a new boyfriend style thing?"
Dad: "Yeah, victim."
Myself: "Funny."
He then decided to grill me.
Apparently he needs to know this stuff.
No.
No he doesn't.
Having described Adam in general, my father told me that I should try for someone richer next time.
He then proceeded to call me "Elizabeth" in a hill-billy voice for the rest of the evening.
It's a reference to a tv show called "Swamp People", which is on the History Channel, and a bit hilarious.
It is about a group of alligator hunters, one of whom is named Elizabeth, but prefers Liz.
Her boss, who I think is called Troy, knew her since she was a bubby, because he knew her daddy, who is now sadly dead.
He was having a VERY bad season, and knows she is a VERY good shot, and so decided to offer her a job with him and his son, whose name I HAVE forgotten, alligator hunting. 
She accepted.
However, when Troy gets all excitable, he calls her Elizabeth.
Or when he is bored.
Or when he wants to annoy her.
And basically all the time.
This pisses her off.
She frequently threatens to shoot, throw knives at or throttle him.
This is hilarious.
Troy has permanent subtitles because his accent is so strong.
He says something along the lines of "She don't like me callin' her Lizebeh. I call her wha'ever I laahk."
Dad does a very good impression of this.
Frequently.
With me as the target.
My name is NOT Elizabeth.
It is not one of my middle names.
This, therefore, pisses me off.
Dad also, in the same night, called me a female scorpion, accused me of being a lesbian (I did "come out" that evening, but only as a Guinness liker), and continually flicked my hair over my face.
Unimpressed, tbh.
But still.
He threatened to steal my phone and look through my texts.
I pointed out that he did not know how to work my phone, nor did he bring his reading glasses.
This stumped him.
This is how it should be.
The day my father learns how to A) Open my purse or B) Look through my phone will be the day I am grounded permanently.
He didn't, however, seem too bothered by the fact that Adam is about a year older than me, which I thought would have done.
Despite the fact that there are six years between him and my mum.
There are, apparently, very different rules for me.
I imagine that, if I did pick someone six years older than me, he would kill me.
That would mean going out with someone born in the 80s, which for me is a strange concept.
And definitely not happening.
It has definitely got to that stage where I need mittens in the library.
What confuses the crap out of me is that they continue to open the windows in the library unless it is pouring with rain or snow.
Have they not seen the lack of clothing some of these people wear?
Like blokes with their arses hanging out of their jeans (NOT attractive, by the way. A small strip of pant is fine.  Two arse cheeks covered in a comedy pattern is sick and wrong.).
I see a lot of arse cheek at this college unintentionally.
In my opinion, if shorts don't come down at least two inches past the curvature of your bum, then you are not wearing shorts, and instead denim knickers over a pair of tights.
Dear girls.
You are not super heroes.
You cannot, therefore, carry off pants over tights.
Sorry.
M XX
I was walking in to college with Sarah the other day, and we did see a girl who appeared to be wearing a denim g string.
NOT attractive!!
Yes, your arse is nice.
No, I don't want to see it the WHOLE DAMN TIME.
Arses should be kept covered, apart from swimming and sexytime.
And even DURING swimming, most of the arse should be covered.
Unless you are Brazilian.
Different rules apply if you are Brazilian.
Like the French, and going topless.
Or a nudist.
Nudists are allowed to be nuddy.
They make an effort to not wear clothes.
Girls with denim g strings clearly decided that they should put some form of clothing on this morning, but fucked it up and left the house dressed like White-Trash Barbie.
What confuses me also is why you would then have pockets poking out of the bottom.
You cannot possibly put anything in those pockets.
So why bother with them?
There is legitimately no point.
And why continue to wear shorts in the wintertime??
Tights are NOT thick enough to keep you warm in such weathers, and leggings are too bulky to put under shorts.
Therefore you must be COLD.
Being cold SUCKS.
WHY DO IT TO YOURSELF, YOU LUDICROUS WOMEN!!??!?!?!?!
Also, this tshirt and leggings thing.
We can see your fanny.
Put it away.
I am not normally a fan of the word fanny, but I honestly cannot call it a lady garden in the case of these girls.
Too classy for these girls.
NOW my fingers are freezing up.
Fail to see how the library can have got COLDER as the morning goes on, when the sun is all the way up now, and there are 52 computers running and several students in here.
Does not make sense.
Hmmm.
Appear to have blogged for the entire free, leaving me with sixteen minutes.
Having consulted my purse, it would appear I have enough money for TEA :D
I will go and buy this now.
Love to all
XXXXXXXX
Three good things:
-80p cups of tea.
-Rachel's blog.
-Jumper dresses.