I'm just saying sometimes a bit of junk in the trunk is a good thing!!

I've fallen in love with the song 'Cowboy Boots' by Macklemore (the entire album is GOLD!) but it's kind of half country, half rap, and an extension that is almost sea-shanty in it's sound! It's my song of the moment and I recommend it as much as I recommend Gold-dust by John Newman, which is also the shit!
Another massive tune I've gotten to know (inpersonally) is Stay by Rihanna. The music video of her in the bath has almost inspired me to start a vlog.

So someone I know used the term 'metaphorical short-sightedness' the other day, I heard 2nd-hand. I'm guessing what they meant was 'a lack of foresight' but it turns out what the person is failing to get across is being socially inept.

Apparently that was also wrong, I'm now being told it was something to do with - no now I'm being told I'm not allowed to write anything about this person. I'm literally being censored.

So on New Years there was a party but I'm not allowed to mention any names, so I will just give them animal names.
So there was this whale, and it was having casual physical relations with this water buffalo, who in turn fell deeply in love with the whale, but the whale just wanted 'some love in her blow-hole' so just wanted to remain sex-partners.
Anyway so this was a couple of years ago and the whale was seeing someone else, and so was the water buffalo.
So like I was saying they were at this New Years party. By 'they' I only mean the whale, and it's friends the Okapi, the Gnu and the Eye-eye...and "Rogga". The whale stupidly wanted to 'get off the bus' in a drinking game, so it had to accept a dare and the Okapi, Gnu, Eye-eye and Rogga got to take it in turns sexting the Water Buffalo. Below, are some of the texts (from memory).

"I enjoy the whale's tight squeeze". "Remember when we had sex on a bookshelf?". "I may be with another animal right now, but I would still come round and have consensual intercourse with you behind my current 'squeeze's back". "I remember how you used to enjoy it in the mouth". "I also enjoy sexy times in an open field".

At this point, Rogga cried "OH GOD! BOOKSHELF!" and weeks of therapy was undone in an instant, as terrible images of whale's blowhole came flooding back to her.

Staying with my current theme of women, beauty and complaining, I've penned a short list of my top favorite things about women, without resorting to booty, boobs and lady areas.
First thing I love is a beautiful smile! I've decided on beautiful instead of pretty because according to something I read "“Pretty” is putting her on a shelf. It’s putting her in a box and closing the lid. That’s it. She’s done. It’s all she’ll ever be. It’s dismissing her. It’s telling her that’s all she’ll aspire to, something for others to look at, maybe even pity. It’s telling her she only matters until she’s no longer what you deem “pretty.”
So yeah this gorgeous girl gave me a dazzling smile and it was a good time to be me! Until then there had been a rumour she was a 'closet rude girl'!

Next is good old-fashioned sass! I like having a lady who can take my general rudeness and through it back in my face. I am such an emotional sadist I love it. That's all I have to say on the matter.

My female friend says it's OK to say a guy's muscles (especially mine) look grrrrreat but another male friend argues that by that logic is it alright to compliment a woman on her large breasts/booty? Because that apparently makes you a creepy pervert! I told him to stop being such a sexist dinosaur! Am I right, ladies?

Then my female friend told me a story about being left to cry by her cruel mother, so she smeared shit on the walls. True story.

For Dry January I've taken up downing energy drinks and let me just say my guts have never felt more like I'm gonna shit them out my ear. But it does taste yummy. My female friend has been drinking some anti-oxidants drink called Naked. It's got 73 blueberries, 5 blackberries, 3 apples, and a banana in it! Sounds disgusting!

So recently I joined tinder (as an experiment OBV) because I was feeling lonely. Anyway like I was saying I was feeling lonely and unappreciated. Most days I would wake up in a gutter caked in shit and shame. My life was a mess. I couldn't even make enough money off my 3rd-rate blog to feed my ailing wife and children (Shaniqua, Maruffin and Bruce Willis). I ended a lot of evenings snorting sherbet and experiencing bizarre hallucinations.
Anyway so I joined Tinder and chose a lovely picture of myself out with friends, not looking a mess and with a big, woman-attracting smile. Anyway so my mate says to me he goes you dont want to show off any chest hair because it's very marmite! As in, women either hate it, or loathe it!
So I changed my picture, and then he says ur bio is far too long. I was like it's quite short and non-threatening, but he's like no no no change it. So I just put "All parts included, free p+p" and though I 'liked' several hundred girls in the area, I only got 2 matches in 2 months, and neither returned my messages. I was left feeling deeply self-loathing. Anyway so then I uninstalled it and just decided to spend my time on candy crush and crying deeply over my emotional turmoil.
But I do have some points to make! So many women have random pictures of them with elephants as their profile picture! Also a lot of women have all their pictures of them with the same group of friends, so you have no idea who you're actually 'liking' or 'disliking'! It's frightfully confusing! There was also some girl who's profile said she was 23, but her bio simply said 'I'm really 13'. Creeeeepy!

On an unrelated note my mate at work came into my room today and bragged about how many tinder matches he got! But I'm not bitter! Then he said one of his heroes was Justin! I said Beiber?! He looked at me with deep revulsion and said no Timberlake! I was like well when I'm talking about Justin Timberlake I refer to him simply as JT! He felt very schooled by a white boy.

An Okapi

Going through my friends list on facebook and asking who I would and would not drag from a burning building. (Feat. Turnstyle)

So I was at the gym today (no surprise there, it is that time of year again!) and as usual I was listening to my iPod whilst watching the music videos on the tv screen! That is unless a truly banging beat comes on, like Pitbull ft. Ke$ha! Anyway so this song oft' comes on, called Animals by Martin Garrix. Got nothing against the song itself, but more than half of the music video is just DJ Garrix standing behind some decks, entertaining crowds by pumping one outstretched hand up and down repeatedly. I'm like that's not exactly what I'd call a performance! I'm being about as active here typing at my desk! Not that there is any eccentric arm-pumping going on at my workspace!

Simon Cowell calenders? What is the point. The moron has only one 'look' and it's something only someone with access to the most basic clothing could recreate.

You know that feeling when two of your friends from different circles socialise? Well i don't even know how to phrase how it was explained to me, but the words 'two of my worlds colliding' and I say that 'woman I got many worlds, and they are welcome to collide as often or as little as they please. I AM THE STAR AROUND WHICH MY WORLDS ORBIT!"

Why is the entire London Rap scene based around greyness, concrete, and shit?! Also Royals by Lorde is such a load of donkey shit I cannot even begin! The vocals are very annoying and too slow, and there's hardly any musical-ness (real word) to give it any excitement! And the music video is really bland and grey, like all "youth" videos! bloody hell enjoy life u miserable sods! You're making plenty of money so please stop acting so downtrodden!

The rest of this blog is being written in January, so is being composed without any alcohol being consumed before/during/after publication. But don't worry the quality will not differ! In fact it might be of an even poorer standard!

It's been roughly 14 months since I started writing this blog, and we've had high points and low points, but here are a few things I've learned in the meantime.
1) This blog is not and will never be as popular as anything that contains anything about beauty products.
2) People would rather read about someone moaning about shit then bigging up things they love.
3) You get a bigger audience if you're a slender, attractive woman, because men are easily led!

So, using this information, I've decided to reinvent my writing style in the following ways.
MORE beauty products!
MORE complaining!
MOAR good-looking women!
And if I can get in a segment about good-looking women complaining about shit beauty products all the better! I conclude that these changes could increase the reading figures by almost infinite percent.

Now that we're in 2014 I think I'm finally ready to tell you about my new adoration and admiration for Gomez Addams from the Addams Family. What a man! If I could in any way be like him I would be so much happier! He dances, he speaks French, he wears a cummerbund! What more could anyone want?!

Also this month I'm taking part in the January Planking Challenge, you gotta take care of that core! It truly is much harder than it looks, but I always look forward to the bit at the end where I can lay face-down in the carpet. Always a treat. (Optional).

When did the term 'British Comedy' come to stand for little more than endless scenes of social awkwardness? You will only get people to laugh so many times at a stuttering, shy, closed-off (yet surprisingly handsome) British man thrust into an encounter with an equally beautiful woman who is more familiar with social etiquette than him! In RL (Real-Life) he would be a weird, unattractive internet troll who would never win the hearts of the heroine if his life depended on it! *breaks down in sobs*.

Young bands who are owned by record-labels who write them a song pertaining to deep emotional feelings/messages that they clearly have never felt/thought about. Enough said. Would like to see less of this in 2014 please.

OK I've also decided to operate the next few issues with a celebrity co-writer ("writer") who will be able to write ("write") a short piece about a topic chosen by me. This time the topic was 'the relationship between sharks and skateboards'. I hope you enjoy it.

By Matt "Turnstyle" Turner

“Hey man, you ever think about-“

I shot a dirty look over, with suspicion and doubt at the forefront of my mind. The cook, a habitual drunkard, was slumped over the poop deck railing. I caught a sharp tang of rum – no, wait, stove fuel – on his foul breath as he slurred:
“You ever think about the two most dangerous things in the universe?”
“Let me guess.” I replied acidly. “You’ve looked at the view through one of the gaping plot holes in the hull, and decided to organise your own orgy?”

“Nah, man! Sharks! Skateboards! Like… What if they were UNITED!?!!”

Before I could suggest he walked the plank for his jibber-jabber, Max the cook had fallen loudly asleep. I was beginning to find the odour of the poop-deck more than mildly offensive anyway, so I clambered up the frayed rigging barely holding this tale’s structure in place to reach the crow’s nest.

The crow, fortunately, wasn’t in, or I’d have had some explaining to do. It had been a hard voyage so far aboard HMS Cornish Winter Hater, and the crew had been restless ever since we’d cast away from Cheltenham in search of supposed greater treasures.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, scanning the telescope with my horizon as the wind buffeted our little vessel this way and that. Every day we sailed north and every day, the horizon grew a little greyer. Supplies were running low. Since the death of Maurice, some of the men had even taken to reading wacky conspiracy theories on the internet. (I really ought to change the Wifi password, on reflection.) It was surely no time for an attempted discovery of… MANCHESTER ISLAND. Yet what choice did I have?

Suddenly, a white whale appeared ahead. “GIVE ME ALL YOUR SHARKATEBOARDS”, she roared with all the wrath Bedford could muster, and before I had time to think “shit Emily’s eating this unfinished tale!”, it was all over.

Well that was lovely. Not nearly as poor as I was expecting.

How creepy were/are cabbage patch kids? I could show more affection to a real-life (or RL) cabbage! They look like a messed up Dr Who creation. But what is the obsession with dolls who can piss themselves anyway? Also if Weebles wobble but they don't fall down, how do they lay down to go to sleep?! Or drive cars?! They don't have legs!!!
If I'm ever a Dad one of the hardest bit will be when they see something they want in a toy shop and not responding with "But it's clearly a piece of shit!" or if it's a girl just telling her to get some respect for herself #dadoftheyear.

So that's the end of that. I hope you've learnt a thing or two, but remember I promise three things from now on. Beauty. Complaints. Women.

Goodnight!

PS this blog was written mainly to Rihanna songs "Stay" and "Diamonds". I suggest you read it to the same songs. I know you won't be reading this bit until after you've already read it, but if you want to experience the blog as it was meant to be experienced, re-read it to these songs. Do it. You deserve it.

Beauty!
Complaints!
Women!