It'll Be Alright On The Night(time run)

Firstly, I'd like to blame my absence entirely on Netflix.  Thanks to American Horror Story, I am now completely desensitized to gore.  I don't think I'd bat an eyelid if one of my limbs just decided to drop off and spurt blood all over the walls, Phoebe off of Friends stylee. Example:

Also, I have finally decided who I want to be when I grow up.  Jessica Lange.  I don't even care if her identity's already been taken - she is a bad ass.  

While we're on the topic of bad-assery, this week, I joined a group of runners from my local running club in a nighttime run through some woods for the first time.  Loved it!  This bunch of speedsters regularly seek out hills on Wednesday nights by strapping on some flourescent gear and trekking up towards the mountains. Nutters. 

On our run, I saw some cool, out-of -the-way houses and ruins, ran alongside what seemed to be Wales' loudest river, and chugged up some inclines like the stumpy-legged steam train that I secretly knew I was.  Choo choo! 

There was something really enjoyable about not being able to see much further than an arm's length in front of me.  Usually, as I start to get tired, I can get in the habit of staring balefully the horizon and inwardly lamenting how far I have left to go. When you can see naff all ahead, this isn't an option.  Not a bad thing!  The time flew by.

If you get the opportunity to sling on your trainers and go on a nighttime adventure (with company! There's no fun in accidentally falling over if you don't have witnesses to laugh at/with you... and maybe help you up), then take it!  It's an experience.  Plus, you'll have an excuse to buy a head torch, which means you can Snapchat lots of pictures of your face lit up at weird angles to freak your sister out....

N'much more to report than that this week.  It's hard to get much shit done when you're on a Netflix spiral.  I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore.

Later, gaters!







....Don't ever let me say that again.

Game Of Thrones: A Belated Review

So, I've started watching Game Of Thrones. I'd heard from several sources that it's good and worth a watch..also that everyone on the planet has watched it and I'm the only one left to catch up.

That being said, I did do a bit of heel digging before I parked my bum on the sofa and finally gave it a go. Reason being that all reviews I had were from people who enjoy the female form in a different way to the way I do(I.e "yeah, it's really good! The women are so fit and there's loads of sex!! Oh the sex!!" Etc...kind of. It's not a direct quote...but feel free to use "oh, the sex!" In future if you so choose). All I knew about it was that I was about to subject myself to many hours of bare boobage. I knew nothing of the plot line or characters. For all I knew, it was about a bunch of kings and queens gaily flashing their genitalia at each other whilst a court jester danced around spanking their bare bottoms with a lute.

Or if I only had the title to go by, the world's first game of musical chairs.

I'm three episodes deep now. I'm in love with a ballsy, sword wielding child and have sworn that if I ever consider reproduction, I'm either having one of her or none at all. I've been introduced to a surprisingly eloquent prozzy boinking imp and yeah, rather a lot of boobs.

But, see, even the boobs are good! The boobs I'm being subject to are not the balloonish bubbles hanging off of painfully arched frames like the ones I'm accustomed to seeing in music videos and other forms of popular culture. The boobs of Game of Thrones are as human and unique to each girl as a fingerprint or a face. Boobs that aren't identikit floatation devices hoiked and strapped into place solely for men to look at. Boobs that make me look at them and go "yes! Mine don't stay put when I lie down either! I'm normal! NORMAL!!!"

I have nothing against surgically altered lady bubbles, as long as they are only bought for the woman wearing them's benefit. And that's another topic for another day. All I'm saying is that I'll continue to watch the band of grumpy faces and furry coats (and gawwwjuss dire wolves! I know they're meant to be badass, but aww, lookit the puppiiiiiieees!) to my heart's content, and it won't be in spite of the "look, boobies!!" factor. In fact, I will be mentally high fiving my shirtless sisters whenever I make eye contact with their many splendoured and varied nipples.

Hurrah!

Want!!

Readers...help a bruddah out.

Where can I get my grubby, greedy mitts on this in the UK??

Happy Sunday, y'all!!

Decided to clean my windows this morning, before bothering to make myself appear human to the untrained eye.

Probably not a great idea in retrospect, because this is what the neighbours must be seeing (see pic below, as I am not clever enough to work pictures into a body of text)...

Also, I'm not cleaning the windows so much as standing in the window with unkempt hair and a bottle of Flash, staring gormlessly at the Friends box set I've put on to play on my pc.