My Hero.

Ever since i was a young child, it's been drilled into me that Gay is wrong.
Gay is bad, and if you're Gay there's not really much hope for you.
My Mum would deny all of this, and say i'm being pathetic, but between my Mum, Dad and Grandad especially, i've not been taught that i can be who i want to be. I've basically been taught how to make everybody else happy, but i'm pretty sick of doing that.
Today i spent the day at my Aunty's house. I shouldn't really say Aunty - she's more like my Sister.
Since the day i was born, she's always wanted me as her daughter, she tells me often enough. She spent most of her teenage years babysitting me. We were glued at the hip and i loved it. :)
Sometimes i wish she was my Mum, i know how awful that must sound, and i do love my Mum, but things would be alot easier if it was the case.
She's completely and utterly gay you see; she's my hero.
I've already told her i'm gay. It was pretty hard to tell her, but i stuttered my way through it because i trust her with my life. Everytime i go round, we get back onto the conversation of how the fuck i'm going to tell my dad. It's simple really, i just don't tell him.
She loves asking me how i realised i was gay - she asks this one everytime without fail.
She says it with a smurk on her face, the type of smurk you'd have if someone pulled 10 packs of strawberry laces out of their pockets. Unfortunately i didn't have any laces, she actually just loves hearing about it, i don't know why.
There's really nothing to tell. I pretty much fell in love with my best friend, then i kissed a girl and i liked it.
Her Girlfriend cest tres butch. It's cute.
They're so happy and i've never seen anything so normal in all my life. They're best friends, lovers, and everything more. I don't see how people can judge such a happy pair? Sometimes people get carried away, making Lesbians sound like diseased monsters, who're out to fuck everything and everyone up. This annoys me a hell of a lot!
I love their company so much, partly because they find me hilairious, they laugh at everything i say, which means i'm always welcome. Also partly because i can just be everything i want to be around them and they'd accept it. I could probably smother their brand new carpets that they keep ranting on about, in horse shit, and they would still continue to smile at me.
They live in a typical semi detached house, drive a typical family car, work like everyone else and have 6 extremely happy and beautiful children between them, so whats all the fuss about? There's actually fuck all to fuss about.
I'm so proud to have her as an Aunty. She's so fucking cool! She's always trying to get me drunk, and constantly shoving fags in my mouth!
All i can say is, if my life ends up as good as hers, and i end up half as happy as she is, i'll be pretty fucking content with my life.
:)

Flop your Gaydar out.

There's only one person in the world who has tracked me down good and propper.
Shanice's mum. Fuck knows she knew this, she must have one crackin' Gaydar on her, because i i act pretty damn straight to be honest with you.
Apart from the occasional knuckle crack, and manly yawn, i'm just your average straight looking girl, or am i?
Of course i'm fucking not, i'm much more than that. :)

Shanice's mum calls me the Lesbian. The first time she ever seen me was when i was hungover to death, wearing a pair of man sized Adidas Basketball shorts and a top that was at least twelve times too big, stumbling out of the house in bare feet and rolling into my boy racer car, to attempt the drive home still completely boshed. I've recieved the nicknames, Lezzer, Lesley, and Lezbomb ever since. For instance, the other day when i woke up, all i heard when i was half way down the stairs, is "What're you and the Lezbomb having for Breakfast, cheese toasties, yeah? I'll do it, you make the drinks."
At least they feed me, i mean i'm not complaining.. it doesn't bother me. Out of all the people in the world though, Shanice's mum is the first to ever suss me out good'n'propper. :) She truthfully is onto me, it's scary.

Butch tendencies: Baggy grey joggers; Biker tops; Eating habits; Gymming alot; Driving like a man; Drinking like a man; Being as sarcastic as a man; Being one of the boys; Sitting like a man; Gawping like a man; Walking like a man; Quad biking; Kickboxing; Football much?

Femme tendencies: Painting of the nails; Girly summer dresses; Sweet things; Jewellry; Perfume; Hair; Makes up; Having boobs; Too many items of clothing; Far too many pairs of shoes and bags; Underwear obsession; Making a biiiiiit of an effort; Being good at cuddles and kisses.

That's just a few examples. :') I'm extra extra glad i'm a lady though. I'm pretty vile sometimes, it's fun though.
Anyways, fuck know's how she knows.. Brenda Gaskell, i salute you woman.

My Dad

has just called and demanded a lift home. I laughed, and put the phone down. It's a Sunday night. He's probably been where i should be; Jumpin' Jacks nightclub. It wouldn't suprise me. Him and his wife like to take advantage of the £10 free bar and then whack the Champagne on ice for afterwards, classy. It drives me mad when i have to scrape round for money towards the end of the month just to fund my car's 1Litre engine, when those two might aswell be driving down the M6 with the roof down throwing money about, reinacting The Crystal Maze.
If you ever met my Dad, you'd laugh. You want reasons? I'll give you reasons. Actually, i'll give you a lengthy list:
1) He actually thinks he's 20.
2) The man wears Evisu jeans, Prada, Hugo Boss and owns far too much aftershave.
3) He drives a Range Rover Sport with blacked out windows
4) He's had his teeth whitened, HI SIMON.
5) Honestly, he is known by everyman and his dog!
6) He Owns a restaurant; even though he can barely make toast.
7) He has a canal side house, and a Barbie wife 12 years his junior, who has had several unsuccessful nose jobs. She still has a nose that looks like it's from the Middle-East, either that or it's been shaped with a T-square.
8) He thinks he's in a real life game of Monopoly. I wish i had that many houses.
9) All his music is pretty decent, it's laughable because it's strange.
10) He's 44 and has a 4 year old, urgh.
I'm not going to make him sound like an utter twat, i mean, he's a good Dad. I've got the biggest bed you've ever seen and he got me a balcony built onto my bedroom. I'm entirely thankful, true story. It comes in handy for a midnight cigarette anyway.
He leads about twelve lives, but i can't help but look upto him. I doubt i'm ever going to be as successful as my Dad, but i can always try.
He hates everything i do at the minute, it's funny. "Why're you getting tattoo's Beck?" Urr, because i fucking want them!
"Urghh, tongue piercings! You Lesbian!" No shit Sherlock! It only took you 18 years and 10 months to click on? Wow, you're fast!
I love him though, he's my Daddy. He's a bellend sometimes, but he's a banterous bastard. He traditionally makes me a Sausage sandwich every Sunday morning and makes me rate it out of 10. He's never gotten one ten to date, but still he strives on hoping for the day a 10 will eventually come; bless his soul.
He introduced me to Football, and we have an obsession with Cars and Technology. I actually love Cars too much, but i'm sure the man loves his iPhone more than he loves me sometimes.
Yup, i'm a Daddy's girl. It's true.
It's wierd though; i don't even live with him.

Dearest Gok-wan,

to be quite honest i don't really have a problem with you, but you need to know you're pretty fucking shit.
I mean come on, what skint student can afford a t-shirt that costs £105? I know it's Paul bastarding Smith, but you're meant to be showing us what we can afford, not driving us into temptation with our freshly opened, untouched overdrafts.
You're actually overly annoying when you do that shit highstreet comparison thing and still end up with a mega unaffordable outfit. £275 for an outfit, fuck me, i hope that includes the price of Underwear, and preferably new skin. I think you need to take a leaf out of Duff's book and get customizing and what not.
I actually think i'd be sweet as a nut at doing a programme like that. Fashion fix my arse, I'd do alot better than El Gokko. If it's one thing i know, it's fashion. I don't know much more, but i'm working on it.
That is all. My Gok-rant is over.

Today

it was agreed by a group of my very best male friends that i am indeed, one of the boys.
This is a giant compliment to be honest with you.
It suddenly dawned on them whilst they were indulging in heavy conversation about Liverpool Football Club. I butted in about how Gary McCallister's screamer from the half way line waaay back in 2004 was utterly magic, and that a Henchoz and Hypiaa reinactment is needed at Anfield as soon as possible. They then congratulated me on my Football knowledge and suggested i try to follow in Georgie Thompson's footsteps.
I FUCKING WISH. She is actually Gorgeous. I told them that too, they then congratulated me on my choice in Women, it was epic.
I mean, i know i've always been 'one of the boys', but i feel like the future's bright now that it's finally been confirmed. I am one of the selected few girls that can actually be as crude and whitty as a boy. Well done me! I knew my sarcasm would come in handy one day.
I've obviously been blessed with some sense of humour; god knows how.
My Mum laughs at her own home made jokes, and my Dad.. well he's just not funny, although he likes to think he is, i'll never admit it, never, ever. Well he is quite funny actually, but only in a 'look at me, i think i'm 20!' way.
When i was a young'un, you could find me playing Army in the bushes, building many dens, tree houses, rope swings ect, and playing a game called 'pully' on my local dual-carriageway. My Dad influenced this all, fuck knows how because he didn't even live with me. He would just pick me up and take me to Liverpool matches twice a week, then drop me at home. There is no better feeling than the fresh air, sparkling floodlights and mid-match banter at Anfield. No wonder i'm good at being boyish, i spent half of my childhood taking the piss out of the skipping linesman to make my Dad and his friends laugh. It worked though, i got free tickets for years; he even took me to Cardiff twice, so i must of been a fun child. I had a scout come to watch me play football when i was 13 and he got me trials for Wigan AFC, my Mum actually bribed me out of it, pretty gutted i listened to her now. If it weren't for the long Blonde locks that stretched down my back, i'm sure my Father would have been overly game for changing my name to Bruce, however my Mother would be far from approval. If you looked at me now, you would think there was nil truth to this. I'm as girly as a girl can be. I'm just not one of them bitchy girls, i'm good with banter and know how to take a joke; thank the lord.
Anyway, it's been decided and announced. I'm one of the boys. I hope it doesn't change my life too much, ha!

I'm pretty pissed but

i thought i'd write a blog that i can regret in the morning. The only problem is, it is morning. 8.09am to be precise.
Tonight i've been to Liverpool, it was quite the enjoyable experience to tell you the truth.
I'm watching Sugar rush in my bedroom.
Today, when i wake up, i'm going to ring into work sick, then go to Wigan and get a tattoo.
Tattoo's and piercings are pretty addictive; i like them too much.
I was meant to get another Tattoo today, but i wrecked my best friends top when she was putting my hair dye on, so i had to fork out for another top for her, being the good bitch that i am.
I'm pretty much in love with Bombay Bicycle Club, it's true.
I've been running round my friends uni flat with many a tune on my Iphone, waving sounds from their album in Knowles' face whilst he tells me i have no future and i need to fuck right off.
People were nice tonight, i liked it. It was a night full of compliments to be quite honest. Complimentary nights are a rarety, you'd know that if you met my friends.
We call it friendship, but we're basically banterous bastards who take the piss out of every (wo)man and their family. It's love.
I went on a mission tonight, for Cigs. I met an Irish dude with bleeding knuckles, he led me to a shop and then bought a Cig off me for £2.70, i didn't want to take it, i suggested he used it to invest in a first aid kit, but he insisted. Thinking about it now, he could of asked to lend 30p and got his own pack of bines, surely!
I kept getting lost tonight. At one point i indulged in heavy conversation with a guy from Chester whilst having a Cigarette, i didn't really want to talk to him, but i was outside texting, once again, and he plonked himself next to me on a rock. He told me i was beautiful, and he liked my dress, then i told him that his hair needed washing, badly. That's students for you. :)
Sentence of the night was, "Duffey, if you don't get off that phone, i'm going to shove it up your arse and make your Mother suck it out!"
My friends are vile but i love them.
There was absolutely no point at all in writing this, but who gives a fuck. Moi? non.

I am the Music man, i come from down your way.

I'm pretty much Music mad, i always have been since a really young age. I really don't know what i'd do, and where i'd be without it. Music is one of the only things i'm good at, it's pulled me through life, yay.
My musical taste ranges from Classical to Dubstep. I can honestly say i'm a lover of all music - well i like to give every song a chance anyway.
I love music that's inspired by the 80's. Ladyhawke never fails to put me in a good mood. Pink Floyd and David Bowie deserve many Golden medals.
Tracy Chapman dragged me through the hard times of Childhood. Yeah, i was a pretty mature child. I was too mature for my age anyway.
I really love a band called Squeeze, they formed in the late 70's and continued playing and making songs until the 90's. They're touring again now though so if i manage to get my hands on a couple of tickets i'm sure i might just wee myself with excitement.
I love The Beatles more than life itself, they actually are my Gods, no word of a lie.
Paul McCartney pisses me off a bit though, i think him and his limbless ex need to move somewhere far far away, but just leave his old music for me to dream about please.
I loved The Prodigy when i was younger too - i still love them now. I remember stomping round my Nan's livingroom to 'Smack my bitch up' when i was about 10. God knows why my Nan was listening to The Prodigy, slightly worrying with it being that song too!
I seen The Prodigy in the Summer at Leeds festival. They were amazing. You can't really get better than dancing round a field in a pair of Pink wellington boots, with a spliff in one hand, and a pint of Cider in the other. Nothing really comes close to that i'm afraid.
Florence and the Machine can actually sex me up anyday. Well her voice can, maybe not her face. Her vocal skillssss are a dream, she was at Leeds too, she's one of the main reasons i went actually.
La Roux's pretty decent too. She's starting to bore me slightly, her remixes with heaven 17 are talented though. I think Ellie Goulding's stolen her spotlight a little bit. She was really good at Leeds though, what i can remember anyway. By the time La Roux hit the stage i'd been on approximately 8 sets of shoulders and could barely stand up due to the amount of Weed and Cider i thought it would be clever to consume. Naughty Beck.
One time i was listening to Crystal Castles in my car and my friend thought there was something wrong with the CD. She actually took out the disk and began cleaning it, the strange girl. That just goes to show how mainstream and boring the music is in Skelmersdale, unless you're part of our wierd and wonderful group.
Mumford and Sons, 2 Door Cinema Club, The Temper Trap, Killa Kela, Bombay Bicycle Club, Passion Pit & Paramore are all on this years 'to do' list. I'll let you know how it goes!

Life or Death.

I don't know why, but i'm always left asking the same question - What happens to us when we die?

Don't get me wrong, it's only a recent thing, i haven't always though about it. I suppose it's just since Kelsey, a really close friend of mine, died in October; it was so sudden that it made me realise i could lose anybody at any second.

I'm so intrigued to know what happens after death. Surely that can't be it. We can't just close our eyes and that's it, we're gone forever.

Scientists have proven that energy can never be destroyed, if this is the case, surely the energy we are made up of can't just fade away. Surely it will be reincarnated into another creature!

My best friend has another theory. She likes to believe that we're all just in the ground waiting for the day when everyone is going to rise again. What about people who've been cremated though? They're pretty fucked aren't they.

I'm not really scared of anything, but death really does shake me, especially thinking about it at such a young age, urgh.

Everyone's got to live and die, so i suppose i'll get to see what happens eventually.

I'll just stay here for now though, please.

Thanks.

Introduction of a dosser.

I'm currently sitting here admiring the talent of Bombay Bicycle Club.

I wish i was listening to Two Door Cinema Club, but i can't be arsed walking to my car.

Always like this is an absolute tune; Whoever says otherwise needs to chop off their testicles/ovaries, depending what sex you are of course. You may even be blessed enough to have both. In this case, you'll have a painful experience and a hell of a lot of chopping to do.

Fuck knows why i've decided writing a Blog is a good idea. Nobody's going to read it, apart from me and I don't really do much to talk about.

Don't get me wrong, i'm all for trying new things and going to new places, but i live in Skelmersdale; it's actually the shittest place in the world, it's truly challenged in the entertainment area. Our local shopping centre (Yes, we only have one) consists of chavvy teenage Mothers blasting the most unlistenable music you've ever heard, so bad it sounds like a recording of their child being tortured, just with a backing beat, out of their delightfully tacky Walkman phones. They think it's in 'the norm' to go shopping in their Pj's and fake slanted soled Ugg boots, browsing poundland for a cheap version of Cow & Gate so they can go and swap their Milk tokens for a bag of weed and a few king size skins. It's a true story.

It's the reason i don't spend much time here. We do have a few good fields to do fuck all in though, and a few good hills to watch sunsets on. Sunsets are my favourite.

I try to do new things, but as of the late i've sort of fallen into a routine. I go out, i get sloshed/i have a spliff, i come home. It's all gravy. Messy gravy.

You're probably thinking i'm a contradictive bitch, the difference between me and those girls are the 3 p's. Pj's, Pregnancy and Pissing off.

I sleep naked, i've never been pregnant, and pissing off is what i intend to do in the beautiful month of September.

Why do they actually call it September when it's not even the 7th month?.. I just Googled it.

I do work, not alot though. I fucking hate my job.

I used to like it, it's decent pay though but times'a'changin'.. for instance i've recently admitted to myself that i am a big fat fucking Lesbian. World War 3 went on in my head for nearly 3 years, i've always known i was different, but i just didn't want to admit how different i suppose. I'm not arsed, i'm happy, if other people aren't then they can go and suck their own ego's off. There's nothing i can really do to change how i am, and i don't think i would even if i could. I see it as a gift.

The gift of loving women. Women are the epitomy of beautiful. They're considerate, kind, and delicate, also they have the most amazing bodies on this Earth. Oh, i'm so glad i'm female.

Men on the other hand are inconsiderate bastards, well the majority of them anyway, including my Dad from time to time.

For the first time in years i'm actually happy, apart from the fact that i got a £30 fine for driving in a bus lane today, English bastard driving system. Apart from that though, i'm content as a fat twat with a multipack of Walkers.