Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Sir Sue the inappropriate and the company of monday night drinkers.

My friends have re-named me Sir Sue the inappropriate because of my behavior whilst drunk. Although sometimes it does have repercussions I rather enjoy my title as being extremely crude makes me laugh. I find it hard to resist when two of my close friends are self confessed prudes, it pains me that you could not witness their expressions as me and Sir Carol Tush Tush had an in depth discussion about circumcision in the back of a cab. Last night my inappropriate behavior was only reaching the moderate scale. Let us delve deep into the underworld as I take you back for an over view of our drunken celebrations.
We went out to celebrate Mark's 18th and it was very nice of him to invite me. Although my friends had already suggested I gatecrash. I'm always that added on thing that turns up extra at a party, like a hand bag somebody brings that drinks a lot and sings. First we went to the Wallace (a pub) where I tried to convince everyone I'd applied to become a nun, "The application form says do you like drinking and you tick no. Then it says do you like fucking and you tick no. Then it says are you catholic and you tick yes." Everyone gave me weird looks. I apologised to Daniel for biting him last time we were drunk together, he had actually forgotten and seemed slightly offended when the memory refreshed itself. To redeem myself I'd like to say it's how I show affection. We moved on to the Colly (a club) where several interesting things happened. Sir Carol Tush Tush decided that he was going to tell everyone that he owned the establishment and spent the whole night repeating it over and over to everyone. Example:
Sir Carol- I own this establishment
Sir Sue the inappropriate- You don't
Sir Carol- I fucking do!!
Sir Carol- I own this establishment
Sir Sue the inappropriate- Stop saying that
Sir Carol- Well I FUCKING DO!!
What you have to learn is a marvellous thing occurs when Sir Carol is drunk; he becomes the funniest person in the world, a sort of comedic personality takes over. One of Sir Carol's favourite things to do intoxicated is make false claims and repeat them. His current ones are that he:
  1. Invented Strongbow
  2. Invented sex
  3. Owns this establishment
  4. That [insert any name here] lives next to him and/or is his mother
  5. Is going to masturbate for a whole day
We will go back to him for the resolution of the night. After becoming more drunk I got pissed off that guys kept stroking me. Eventually I got my reactions together enough to slap someone's hand and swear at him; then I felt guilty about it. After much dancing and drinking I completely embarrassed myself. I don't know what set me off but I started to cry, I hardly ever cry and once I start crying I find it really hard to stop. The worst shame for me is having anyone see me cry and loads of people I know saw me. Bollocks quite frankly. Peachy and Field-Marshall Kate were very caring and hugged me then took me to the loos twice to try and get me together. On one of these trips a girl asked if I was alright and, "If it's about a boy." I wanted to argue and redeem myself slightly by saying no but my friends confirmed it, she then informed me with something along the lines of, "Don't worry because there's loads of boys here tonight." It's pathetic to become one of those girls crying in the bog over a guy.
Returning to the dance floor holding hands in a line to prevent us losing each other I felt a hand slip into my spare. The owner was an older guy who I was merely holding hands and having a friendly conversation with when my friends decided to interrupt and tell him that I was on the rebound, when he wouldn't leave they made him. Obviously he was an arse, that's beside the point though! Reassessing it I'm quite thankful to my friends, my old friends wouldn't have looked after me like that. They only did it to protect me because they love me.
At 3 in the morning Field-Marshall Kate decided to organise us into getting a cab home. Her and Peachy rounded up Sir Carol, who had spent most of the night hugging and kissing everyone including giving me a sloppy one on my cheek and dragged me out of the club. I was only protesting because I thought it was still early and I couldn't understand why people kept showing me the time on their phones, "Yes your phone is lovely so is the blurry clock on it." In the taxi on the way home I complained about leaving and my friends getting rid of the guy, I think I talked about sex and circumcision and ended the night in the traditional way by saying, "I hate you all." over and over. Both Peach and Sir Carol commented later that whenever we go out the ending note is me telling them I hate them. When I say it however, I certainly do not mean it, in a way it's me showing that I love them. I've decided that I will watch my slovenly tongue in future and stop myself from saying it.
What still makes me laugh now is what happened when I had departed to fall into my bed without taking my makeup off in that comfortable drunk patten. On the way home Sir Carol was still saying, "I own this establishment." to himself and laughing after each reinforcement of the statement. The cab stopped at his house and he couldn't open the door. Finally he managed to stumble out of the cab, he then decided to run down the street shouting as loud as he possibly could, "I OWN THIS ESTABLISHMENT!!" The taxi driver turned to Peachy and said, "I think he's gone mad." Peachy replied, "Yes. Yes I think he has." Once at home Sir Carol was immensely proud that he managed to turn the burglar alarm off and he text Peachy twice to tell her this. The texts were unreadable. He then phoned Peachy to tell her of his achievement and that he was thinking of making noodles, she told him not to as he would probably endanger himself. Once this had been done he proceeded to go on MSN and myspace and tell Peachy a forth and fifth time how proud he was to have turned his alarm off.
Sir Carol later admitted to me that he was still saying the phrase to himself once he had got home. A good night had by all.
BOOGIE

posted by Boogie @ 10:27 PM 1 comments

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Scraps imply rubbish

Peachy is nagging me to blog despite the fact everything has gone to shit and I fucked up like I knew I would thus resulting in the loss of a boyfriend, said casually like a cold, unfeeling pro.
Hark! Do not despair my cherished pixie offspring, enough of this stale emo warble and forwards with the drinking! Since the present is currently unpleasant let us look to the past, sift through my 18 years worth of scrapbook pages looking to when things where even more crap. Or yearn for when they were slightly improved.
First off a poem I wrote around 13 or 14 when I was inexperienced at losing my mind. Damn madness was good back then, I loved my eureka moments of, "I can see how the universe works!!" Look at my sweet, naive self leaving myself post-its of remarkable things to remember and presumably change how water runs or something. Bless. Of coarse I still find those notes and have no clue what any of them are referring to, "Soul leave and I'll have nothing but my hands to keep me company." is one I have a fondness for. Nope it's not the same now, it's getting dressed to go to bed again. They don't make insanity like they used to.
A poem I wrote, don't worry Peachy it's not serious.

Hippie gene
My mother phoned Father to say they'd found me drunk at school,
My Dad he said, "What you doing girl?"
He almost raised his voice, "Really how?!
At your age you should be on drugs by now!
What about family tradition?
Have you no respect for past generations?"
Afterwards my Mother said, "I hope your father taught you a lesson."
I flashed her a smile, "Mother I'll never drink again."

Do not worry I don't think my Dad has actually said, "What you doing girl?" ever in his life. When I wrote this I was probably hammering that 'Janis Joplin live' C.D when I couldn't sleep and in my mind I recreate everyone's accents and add in odd verbal mannerisms. This is what the verbal combination of my Dad and Janis Joplin might sound like, man.
BOOGIE


posted by Boogie @ 9:24 PM 1 comments

Friday, June 22, 2007

"Pervert magnet."

Oddness seems to gravitate towards me. For a while I would walk past lampposts and they would turn themselves off until I had passed. Rosie and I seem to find parts of dead animals wherever we go for a walk. It is official a bunch of satanists must be following us around.
What everyone seems to notice about hanging out with me, is that strangers will come up to me and say the most unprovoked things. For me this somehow fits in with the weird stares everyone gives me but according to relatives and friends this is just paranoia. When I'm on steroids I do feel as if I know everyone including people on TV. The strange fact about people approaching me is that it happens in Coventry nowhere else. This must be proof that somehow they know me. They must know me, ladies and gentlemen, know me. What follows is the culmination of some of the unexplained things I have had said to me. Note, this does not include the many contributions from perverts including, "'ello beautiful." *kissy noises*. Or the man I thought was lost because he called me over; I was about to give him directions when he decided to tell me that I was an extremely beautiful young lady and-. I stormed off at that point, bendy metal bastard made me take out my earphones for nothing. Neither does this incorporate the rude things shouted out of car windows at me, although I do get less shit since I hacked all my hair off. Liberate your locks with kitchen scissors.
  • "She's polish!"- Thank you person I don't know for pointing at me and shouting this, my life is far more complete.
  • "SNUFF!"- I was slightly shocked at this so I turned around to look at the man who had said it. He had stopped walking and was grinning at me. I hope this wasn't his way of telling me my hipsters had slid down causing me to flash my pubes again.
  • "Have you seen the rainbow deary?"- I met a leprechaun.
  • "RRRAAAAAWWWRRRRRR."- A very animalistic rawr indeed sir.
  • "It might never happen."- This one annoys me. It did happen. Many times. Optimistic fucker.
  • "Ppppffffffttttt"- Why strange man did you blow a raspberry at me?
  • "Hippie"- I was with my boyfriend Tom when this happened, it was a sort of introduction to Coventry for him via the words of a tramp.
  • "Joy's gay."- How does this person I've never met before know my name?!
Added to these incidents is the day I was on a quiet road taking a walk. A lady I don't know slowed down her car until she was along side me at the same speed. For a few minutes she grinned out the window at me then drove off.
I can't complain though it makes life for more interesting and renews my faith in surrealism. So on so forth.
Lists are creeping in everywhere, stuffing themselves into inappropriate slimy orifices even, I swear this is the last one for a while.

BOOGIE
(hungover)

posted by Boogie @ 10:40 PM 1 comments

Nude poetry.

A bold title to draw the perverts in I don't expect the poetry nature of the title to draw anyone in, I expect it may even put even a few of the determined perverts off, "Huuummmmm nudity, but at the price of poetry. Is it really worth it?"
The man who undertook my university interview inquired after samples of my poetry. I gave its general shitty quality as my excuse for it's absence, but as well as this my poetry has an obscene nature to it which it seems to gather from some unknown source *ahem* for some reason. Recently I've been venturing into writing poetry naked, not because I'm stealing Blake's idea but because whenever I'm nude I have sudden bursts of inspiration. What follows is one of my experiments in writing poetry after I got out of the bath and couldn't be arsed to get dressed.

Tattoo

I'm sorry Roger after the,
Initial
introductions I grew bored,
I was fickle then,
my infatuation couldn't last through custom.
two months then love,
my girlfriends ruled.
I cherished my ceremonious months,
then acquired the name I wanted,
Pin-
-point point my gain.
When striding into his,
(before husband had set in permanence)
room naked, approaching the bed, where eyes learning,
looking forward to-
he said, "Roger who?"
"The first boy I ever. . . ." I said,
when I should have told the truth,"I never knew." instead.


BOOGIE

posted by Boogie @ 3:30 PM 3 comments

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Glorious return involving moderate fanfares but no chimps in coats, sorry.

Yes my darling doves I have been separated from my mangled cyber letters. Ah don't worry I am back to bask in the love of the faceless public who don't read my bastardised version of a blog and spam me. Oh how I have missed the links to porn sites in my comments box. They give me the delusion that you read my blog, know that I'm a feminist and put them there to insult me.
In my absence, involving hospital visits and deciding to conveniently loose my old friends, I have secured an intoxicating stash of quotes. Here they are for you; my beloved children.


  • "I don't want foot floor pringles." - My little brother Pootle.
  • "What colour are your lady drugs?"-Pootle.
  • "Now I can tell a real girl from a fake one."- Parker.
  • "Earl this place is chaos, I saw a pig eating its own poo."- Randy from 'My name is Earl'.
  • "Velvet clothing is a sign of mental instability."- My older brother Maddy. He didn't notice I was wearing a velvet jacket at the time.
  • "My mummy says they're magic." - Doolan on 'those' sort of mushrooms.
  • "You can't see me tink! You can't see me tink!"- Small boy after being reprimanded for flashing his 'tink'.
  • "I can go home a happy man."- Ms. Brown. An art teacher.
  • "Sniffing glue is fun!"- Ms. Brown.
  • "I'm wearing cowpats."-My mother
  • "Is that even a baby?"-Me
  • "You have a perverted imagination."- My mother addressing me.
  • "I don't want to be associated with Abba."-Tom, rather randomly announced this in the midst of a conversation about something else.
  • "Communism is an octopus."-Ms. Williams.
  • "In milking bows ass."- Me slightly confused.
  • Were you Christened? He might know you from there."-Emma.
  • "If I was gay I would date him."- Pootle
  • "When the hobbits got married I walked out of the cinema."-Zaine
  • "Bum"- Dulcie. Dulcie is my cat so I think you should be amazed she said anything at all.
  • "My bobbins hurt."-Lady from hospital.
  • "If I was your pebble brother I'd look like a slab."-Pootle
  • "I've been carrying the bible round all day because it won't fit in my bag, I came up the B door stairs and I had a compulsion to shout "Praise the Lord!""- GiGi
  • "Hello cancer I grope you."- Daniel. He sends the most hilarious texts whilst drunk.
  • "They banned smacking and took away the only perk of motherhood."-Chloe (whose name is fucking impossible to spell)
  • "I like to harass people in toilets."-Daniel, possibly the most quotable person alive.
  • "Bendy metal bastard."-Rosie
  • "A bird dropped meat down our chimney."- Daniel.

Wallow in the goodness of these golden words. Can you hardly believe that my quote book is bursting with more of these? Alas I fear I cannot distribute as many as I hoped. You will have to content yourself, unbearably shy fans that you are, with these few favoured scraps extracted from the squealing litter of profanities and illegible handwriting excitably jumping over itself.

BOOGIE

posted by Boogie @ 3:26 PM 4 comments

Thursday, October 05, 2006

A textual tour of Coventry

Conventrian institutions/traditions/conventions.
Here in classy old Coventry we have a few age old traditions, breathe in you can smell the history rising like smoke off the streets. . . Actually no wait that's just smoke.

  • Buying a jacket potato from the stand then siting on the ledge of the fountain to eat it. There must be some magical drug like properties in the butter because they taste better than any other potato/beans/cheese jacketed constructions I've sampled elsewhere. It's also customary to burn your tongue every time you eat one.
  • Putting pink bubble bath in either of the cities fountains. Ahhhh those days when pink foam is overflowing, it's like putting a sugar plum fairy castle in a stagnant swamp. I love it. "They" do not approve though, apparently it's a pain in the arse to clean.
  • Goths hanging out by the lady Godiva statue. Many generations of the cities goths must have spent their teenage years around the, "Naked lady covered in bird shit." As my little brother puts it. I find it very comforting to see them all gathered in groups with their interesting clothes. They are my measuring stick for normality. If the statue isn't surrounded something drastically wrong has happened to the world. My other measuring stick is the boy in my English group who's always on MSN, his presence is always a comfort to me that the apocalypse hasn't started.
  • Coventry has the highest rate for knife crime and the lowest for burglary. Probably because we stab our burglars.
  • Being amazingly pissed and/or high. Nah I'm just kidding, it's a bit cruel to say that about my fellow inhabitants.
  • My tattooist. OK he isn't the best tattooist in the world. But he is a reasonable shrink. One that swears a lot and gives rather odd life advice. I'll admit I'm changing tattooist but I shall deeply miss him. He is the only weird old man I'd let touch my stomach.

BOOGIE

posted by Boogie @ 9:32 PM 2 comments

Monday, July 03, 2006

Drunken ramblings of the mind

  • Reincarnation; horses continuing through solvent abusers. Im continuing the cycle, carrying horse bones letting them gallop once more in the blood stream, rear proud and furious in the mind. *sniff*
  • High heels- implements of restriction. Bloody hard to walk in. With a few experiments I discovered the method of walking on those thin podiums- alcohol. Either it distracts you from the perception of wearing shoes, meaning that you walk with ease or if you still stagger you can blame the unsteadiness on the booze. Or much more sensibly you could not wear high heels since they're pretty pointless.
  • It is actually disturbing that there's a period on the middle of the night, aka in the wee hours, when I find drawing a small smiley face on my hand hilarious.
  • Oh fuuucckkk . . . . For whatever reason I was rolling around near suffocating from laughter on the floor of the loo's in a bowling alley last night, it really wasn't that funny. Increase embarrassment and loss of dignity with sober(ish) retrospect.
  • A while ago when I was bored I let loose a rumor about myself and my sexuality. This is big gossip for the younger years who congregate in little clumps of children (our school esp. In the lower, in both senses of the word, can be a homophobic den. The lists posted everywhere providing the disapproved grounds for bullying fail to mention sexuality) the same groups one finds stampeding along the corridor's. Even now I get eager beady eyes looking up at me blinking with their queries. Usually I give my answer with a chararismatic wave of the hand an, "oh darhling." A stereotypical light 'feminine' laugh, a gentle pat on the head; then a quick retrieval of a dainty hand when their pointy teeth snap at the fingers.
  • "My name is Domino Harvey- I am a bounty hunter." Ever since I hacked off my hair I am, according to my bro.
  • I miss goths, what happened to them? Were they wiped out by the wave of emos? It's the red squirrel/grey squirrel thing all over again. Except instead the grey squirrels monopolizing the red's food it's the emos taking over the eye-liner supplies.
  • Impossibly tiny hands feet and ears. I stole them from baybees- welcome to the faults of a changeling.

BOOGIE

posted by Boogie @ 9:54 PM 2 comments

Monday, May 15, 2006

Remember the voice.

"And therefore as a stranger give it welcome./ There are stranger things in heaven and earth, Horatio,/ Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

As much as it shames me to admit that Shakespeare does nothing for me,no connection, no shiver of appreciation at the sound in the flow of the words, but by gum he hit the button with that one. In the space of two paragraphs Shakspeare and, "he hit the button with that one". I assure you Im slapping my hand against my forehead in a "What the fuck is hit the button about?" moment.
Yesterday another odd thing happened to me. Not only me but my older brother Mad too. How can anyone claim that life is boring rational process? Strange things happen in multitudes to me. Althougth they're not strange because, erm they happen in multitudes.
One of the simple pleasures in life; watching TV with Mad. We have our reserved program's thanks to the good people at Five importing such shows as; 'Prison break', 'House', 'CSI' and 'Greys anatomy'. As part of our schedule we sit down weekly to this comfy routine. Part of the entertainment is simply watching TV with Mad. He has interesting lines of conversation and sometimes near suffocates me from the laughter at hand puppet impressions of Jurassic Park. Or perhaps makes clever revealing comments on current adverts, "But Dad you're a fucking ant!" For example.
This Sunday evening it was only us adorning the sofa. 'Top Of The Pops' was providing some crappy music to debate upon, as is 'normal' Sunday evenings.
My gaze was on Mad as he had just spoken when this funny high pitched voice very close to us said, "Boom!" It sounded human and when it was established neither of us had produced the sound I searched under the sofa for its origin. Mad checked under the scarred coffee table (my Dad set fireworks off from it when I was little) where he had heard it coming from. Finding nothing we settled back to our regular positions on the sofa. Mad seemed very blase about the incident and when I asked him what he thought it was he replied with the above quote from 'Hamlet'. Or at least he tried to. He got as far as "There are stranger. . . . oh you know what quote I mean." At least I have an excuse to forget Shakespeare, Mad used to be an actor and that's one of his favorite Shakespeare quotes. He may be laid back about the whole thing with him saying through Shakespeares' Hamlet not to worry. But come on he doesn't worry about it! He can't he forgets everything.
Me:Loads of these strange things might of happened to you and you don't remember them.
Mad: Yeah.
I'm not worried anyway, unlike Mad I won't forget, it is a funny strange memory to collect.
BOOGIE

posted by Boogie @ 2:32 PM 1 comments