An Open Letter to Daniel (Sodding) Bryan

Picture the scene. You're in bed, the lights are low, you've got the music on, you've had a steamy hot shower, you've even done the BIG SHAVE (you know what I'm talking about ladies!). The scene is set for some seeerrioouss Business Time. Sometime later, you hear...

"YES! YES! YES!"

Don't get me wrong, most women would be proud to hear this repeated affirmation and, in other circumstances, I probably would be too. But my Significant Other isn't even in the room!

What's he doing?

Gaying it up over Daniel (Sodding) Bryan.

Giving the unprecedented strength of feeling that my boyfriend has for this (*checks Wikipedia*) "one-time World Heavyweight Champion in WWE", I decided to write a letter of appeal to the man himself...

Here goes:

Brighton

18/07/13

Dear Mr Bryan, 

It has recently come to my attention that you have seemingly won the affections of my long-term Boyfriend by doing nothing more admirable than pretending to fight men in pants. 

Whilst this is not necessarily a reason to blame you for all that is wrong in the world, it is good enough reason - let's face it, I'm a woman, I don't need much of a reason - to have a good ol' whinge about you and that ridiculous "sport" that is WWE (*shudder*). 

I shall now list the detrimental effects that you, Daniel Bryan (nee, Bryan Danielson - I see what you did there with that stage name - very clever!), have had on my lifestyle (with specific but non-explicit reference to the allotted Business Time). 

1) In an effort to convince me that WWE is, and I quote, "genius" I was forced to watch a disturbing scene not even worthy of the worst Eastenders' plot line, in which an old lady gave birth to a hand. A HAND! 

This awful experience is attributed to you because you are the reason my boyfriend wanted to convince me that WWE is, here's that mis-applied word again, "genius". I am now mentally scarred and have lost 12 minutes of my life which I can never get back!

2) I may have been able to recover some semblance of normality if it hadn't been for detrimental effect number 2 - in which my boyfriend seems to have memorialised one of the funniest moments of his life with something that happened while he was watching you. 

During some sort of "intense" pay-per-view wrestling match, he got a little drunk with a bunch of mates and consequently was nearly paralysed when one over-enthusiastic friend "angle-slammed" him (steady). Previously, I was the cause of many of his most humerous memories and he would look at me with such love and laughter in his eyes. 

Now he looks at me with confusion..."you're not Daniel Bryan..." and then resigned tolerance ..."ah well, I suppose at least you do have bewbies...".

3) He has a t-shirt that says "YES! YES! YES!" on it. 

This is courtesy of his friend who went off-list and bought him an unapproved birthday pressie. Tut tut!

4) He wears this t-shirt far too often.

Seriously - he can't go and watch wrestling without it. The one and only time I have seen him iron anything in the last 9 years is when he was so desperate for this tshirt to dry (I had actually managed to get him out of it long enough to wash it) that he used everything he could, including my state-of-the-art hairdryer just so he could wear it to a PPV that night. 

5) People stop in the street to shout "YES! YES! YES!" at him, congratulate him on being "awesome" and share some in-joke about friggin' WWE.

This happened! I know! It's like these wrestling nerds just gravitate towards one another and then slowly take over your whole town and eventually, your life!

6) I nearly lost him at an Iron Maiden gig when same friend as in number 2 tried another wrestling move on him in the mosh pit which nearly resulted in him crowd-surfing 100,000 people, which I would NOT have been pleased about - although he would have found it awesome I'm sure.

7) He's not shaving as often as he used to.

I'm okay with him having a beard. I've gotten used to it. He would have grown it whether I liked it or not so I've had to suck it up (not literally - eww!) but it's getting a little long now, and having Wikipedia'd you, I'm starting to wonder whether he isn't inspired by your abundant facial hair. 

He'd better not be copying yo' face!

8) He thinks it's funny to make references to WWE at inappropriate times.

He actually thinks it's pretty comical to make references to anything I hate at inappropriate times. And I'm not a hateful person but there is a list (quite a heavily South Park-related list) of jokes/ voices/ accents which I would respectfully ask him not to do in my presence but which he, disrespectfully, ignores at every opportunity.

9) He keeps saying "shuck ducky qua...(oh wait - that's for my letter to that other wrestler...)

10) I worry that he loves you more than me :'-(

I didn't even hear about you from him, I heard from his best friend (waaah). 

In light of the above detrimental effects that your on-air representation has had on my personal home life, I would seek to be compensated as follows...

- that you ruin your reputation in favour of Stone Cold

- that you encourage my Boyfriend to adore Stone Cold instead and, if possible,

- that you cause my Boyfriend to desire Stone Cold's inclusion in our relationship on a casual basis because him, I can accept and even appreciate (on a purely biological level, you understand).

I look forward to seeing Stone Cold at Business Time next Wednesday evening from 8pm. 

Unkind regards, 

Becky

***DISCLAIMER***

I would really appreciate it if you didn't sue me but I was semi-serious about the Stone Cold thing - he pwns you!

Is this the most disappointing ending ever?

**WARNING: SPOILERS OF SYLVIA DAY'S CROSSFIRE SERIES**

Right, make yourselves comfortable. This is one of those ranty, unplanned posts which might go on a bit because I am SO ANNOYED!

First things first - I can't go on an erotica rant without briefly mentioning this...

I was a bit late to the party when it came to Fifty Shades of Whatthefuuu so, rather than jump on the bandwagon, I ended up running waaay behind it trailing desperately after all the cool kids and shouting "Heeyyy, waiiit! I've got shit to say about this book too!".

Well, it took me a while to make up my mind about 50 Shades because, having read my fair share of Mills & Boon, I had expected it to be so much worse, and was therefore pleasantly surprised to find some semblance of character development.

I mean, yeah, the inner goddess vs. subconscious waffle was really painful and borderline schizophrenic BUT on the whole, and let's be reasonable here guys...

It. Wasn't. That. Bad.

...Although arguably, the only reason it had any character development was because the characters were based on Bella and Edward (what is it with stupid names? Bella?? Really?) from The Twilight Saga (which I haven't read - disgraceful I know).

...And okay, the repeated vocab was annoying but show me an erotic novel which doesn't repeat itself...at the end of the day - there are only so many words to describe your spam folder!

I mention Fiddy now because, until last night, I thought I'd found a series of erotic fiction that I could hold up to you as an antidote to everything that was wrong with E L James' writing.

The Crossfire Series by Sylvia Day. 

In essence, the story is pretty similar. A pretty-and-successful-but-doesn't-realise-it woman, falls for a ridiculously rich and good-looking man. The books follow their passionate love affair as they fight to overcome their emotional issues in order to stay together yattayattayatta. There's a whole sub/dom element to it but it's not as pronounced as in 50 Shades, which I personally prefer. The plot is more textured, there is more to the characters and it doesn't feel like the author is just using a loose story as an excuse for something to write about when the protagonists aren't banging each other. So far, so good.

I found that I absolutely tore through the first two books because the love story, while completely unbelievable fantasy, was fun and easy to read. The dark side of these books, doesn't necessarily come from the sexual deviance of Eva and Gideon (the main characters, again with the names...), instead, Day uses a sort of crime fiction baseline to give the story drama. Again, I much prefer this type of multi-layered story. I think I would go so far as to say that I really loved the first 2 books. They were welcome, summertime, escapist reads and I think that's why I was so utterly disappointed when I came to the end of the first book last night.

Here's what happened...I was tearing through it, as expected and Day was bringing all sorts of interesting stuff into the plot. The guy that Gideon supposedly killed in the second book was found to be inexplicably linked to the Russian Mafia. This let Gideon off the hook because it raised suspicions that a member of the Mafia killed the guy instead. The police evidence against both possibilities is sketchy but Day brings in bits and pieces of the back story here and there making you wonder exactly how the guy was killed, who was responsible, how that affects Gideon and Eva's relationship etc. etc... and alongside that, we find that Cary has got a girl up the duff!

Alarmingly, we only start to really get into all this when we are like (*looks at Kindle*) 80% of the way through!

Then, all of a sudden, we come to an abrupt end where the Author writes a quick, crappy little note to say that she missed her deadlines so the book is unfinished.

No.

I lie.

She says:

Author's Note

Yes, dear reader, you're right. This can't possibly be the end. 

Gideon and Eva's journey isn't quite finished yet. I look forward to seeing where they'll take us next. 

All my best, 

Sylvia. 

Seriously?

GAAAHGGHGHAAHAHHHHH

Have you read this book? What did you think? Let me know in the comments below - I'd love to hear your views!

Winter of discontent...

Does The Sun (the star not the Kerry Katona Daily Update) work for British Airways? I was just wondering because of the following:

1) It appears to have gone on strike.

2) BA are always offering "deals" to fly to increasingly far away places to go and spend some time with it.

--

Me to The Boy this morning (details may have been exaggerated for your enjoyment):

At the bus stop on the seafront....

WIND: I'm gonna batter you because I' m The WIND and I'm a violent bugger...

ME: (Shouting over the wind and shivering from cold...) W..w...w..what's (*I'm shivering remember...from the COLD!*) th..that...wuh wuh weird p..p..patch of orange c..cloud over..ver.. there?

BOY: Is it...*squints* the...S...s...Sun? (*also shivering - see?*)

ME: *also squinting* I guh..guess...we'll n...never know buh....because..it's...it's *sniff* GONE! (*cries out in woeful lamentation*).

BOY: *Holds me to him and sings in Russian* (wait...whaaaat...?).

Ranting| On the Fascist nature of cats...

Cats are fascists. FACT. 

Definition of Fascism (courtesy of dictionary.com)

( sometimes initial capital letter ) a governmental system led by a dictator having complete power, forcibly suppressing opposition and criticism, regimenting all industry, commerce, etc., and emphasizing an aggressive nationalism and often racism.

Definition of Fascist (courtesy of dictionary.com)

a person (or animal) who believes in or sympathizes with fascism. Syn. cat (noun)

Definition of Cat (courtesy of dictionary.com)

See Fascist

People who love cats are truly capable of unconditional love. How else can you explain the (clearly misplaced) affection that some people feel for these over-indulged scratchy hairballs?

My experience with cats is thankfully limited but terrifying nonetheless. Let me introduce you to the Fascist Oppressors of my childhood...*some names have been changed to protect the innocent (me) from being harmed by the complicit (the cats' owners).

When I was young, about 6 or 7 I think, we looked after my Nan's cat Beau for a while. (Don't worry we gave him back in one piece - much to my dismay). Beau was the apple of my Nan's eye (which I'm sure he kept in a jar somewhere). He was such a sneaky bastard that he managed to convince us all that while we were to do his bidding, we were doing it of our own accord and he was just an innocent bystander who was in no way manipulating us. 

"Oppressing you? Me? I'm just a cat...*licks balls*"...

Beau was just your average feline I think. He was just a bit ebil but not so ebil that you had any hard proof (even if you did - who could you report it to? I think the RSPCA generally tends to come down in favour of the animal in most circumstances). 

It is Beau I have to thank for my introduction to the outside, inside trick. You know the classic, mewing til you let them out, then as soon as you have sat down, whinging to be let in again, only to repeat the whole process over again just as you've got comfy... Simon! You are not alone!

Beau eventually went back to my Nan and must have died at some point although I don't particularly remember mourning for him (sorry!). Either way, he's deffo not here now *looks over shoulder*.

Cue next angel of death...let's call him...errr..."Mephistopheles"... (I should say at this point that the owner of Mephistopheles* is a lovely lovely person but I think she would agree with me that she was comfortable having a sadist for a pet- she was very Goth at the time)...


My issue with this feline daemon was that he was such a c**k and my friend, misty-eyed with affection didn't seem to see it and appeared to value his comfort and well-being over mine. I don't blame my friend at all... I blame the cat. 

One day, in my tender pre-teens, I went to stay at this friend's house. We had a fantastic time playing Sylvanian families, painting, dressing-up, making a mess of her parents lovely big house BUT all too soon bedtime, predictably, came around at about 10pm. We didn't  mind too much because we were a tuckered out and had been allowed to stay up late anyway (oooo 10pm, rock on!).

I was sleeping on the floor of my friend's room on a little camp bed type thing, with one pillow. Yes. One. Pillow. We got ready for bed and settled down and, within about 5 minutes of trying, unsuccessfully, to support my head by other means, I decided to see if I could see another pillow, within easy reach.

Dilemma.

There was a very comfy looking pillow on the end of my friend's bed. Just waiting for me to pick it up. It looked to me like the kind of pillow that you would typically see on a HUMAN bed.

My mission: Extract the attractive, plump, feathery pillow from the foot of my friend's bed, without disturbing her. I didn't want to be impolite!

Imagine my shock then, when I went to gently drag it off the bed and had the following series of nasty surprises - happening in very quick succession.

1) I couldn't move the pillow very easily because it seemed to be attached to the bed by something alarmingly strong an inelastic.

2) Suddenly the pillow came free and was followed very quickly by a hitherto unnoticed set of claws. In my face.

3) Having managed to recover from this vicious attack, I identified the "cat" and realised that it was he who had been "holding onto" the pillow.

4) I errr "encouraged" him to back the hell off and sought comfort from my friend, not realising that Mephistopheles could do no wrong.

She, rather unfeelingly I thought, explained that it was my own fault for, and I quote, "stealing the cat's pillow".

THE CAT'S PILLOW!?

You see, you see how bloody twisted these creatures are? They manipulate you (you, not me, I ain't falling for that shiz!) that "all ur stuffs are belong to CAT".

Examples:

 

Etcetera, etcetera...

FASCISTS!

Adverse Advice | Procrastination: A Valid Use of Your Time

I became very familiar with what is commonly called "procrastination" during my college years. My friends and I perfected it as an art form and, together, we spent many happy hours doing pretty much anything other than the work we were supposed to be doing.  But you know what, some of the things we did whilst "procrastinating" turned out to be worthwhile later on..(honest Mrs.P!).

So firstly, let's re-brand PROCRASTINATION as...erm...REFOCUSSING.  "Yeah - that's what I'm doing Miss, refocussing my mind..."

Here are some things you can do while ...REFOCUSSING... that will turn out to have been a useful waste of your time...

NB: It would help if you are a frightful geek like moi...

1) Teach yourself how to solve a Rubik's cube in under 4 minutes.

Tried?: Yes. I did this when I was at Uni, instead of revising the uses of the Subjunctive in Spanish. This means that my use of the Subjunctive in Spanish is woefully inaccurate but I am able to woo people with my cube-twiddling skills.

Why is it useful?: It will amaze people (who are unable to solve Rubik's cubes) and it worked for Will Smith in the Pursuit of Happyness...

                                                 Will Smith in The Pursuit of Happyness

2) Learn how to build a tall (say, at least a metre-high) and stable structure using just dry spaghetti and jellybabies.

Tried?: Sort of. I have been asked to do this three times in my life as a team building exercise for college and then for some fancy recruitment agencies. My team failed each time. Apparently you need to use triangles...

Why is it useful?: It means your team will always win whenever you are randomly required to build a spaghetti-jellybaby tower.

                                                   I didn't build this...I found it on Google...

3) Practice cooking delicious meals using only what you have in your kitchen cupboards*.

Tried?: Oh yes. But not by choice. I frequently had to do this irl because when the state was raping me of all the money I hadn't earnt yet  I was a student, we had to come up with increasingly inventive ways to spend as little as possible on food.

Why is it useful?: Well, if you are a victim of Michael Gove student, anything that will help you save money for cider can only be a good thing right? Also, for the rest of you who aren't "studying", you may be aware that we are in a CREDIT CRUNCH (dundunduunnnn). If you are my age, the chances are that you have spent your entire adult life hearing about the sodding state of the economy and it's probably the last thing you want to read about on what is supposed to be a light-entertainment blog. Sorry. The fact is, my dears, that we will all of us be hard-up at some point or other - and when that time comes, you will WISH you had learnt how to make cheesy-beany-brownsaucey-couscous!

* I would stick to your kitchen, I know, when times are desperate, you may be tempted to harvest the garden, or if you're really desperate, to search the entire flat for food but, please exercise caution when choosing what to cook, and THROW THAT FLUFFY CUSTARD CREAM THAT YOU FOUND DOWN THE BACK OF THE SETTEE AWAY!

This website is very useful for weird and cheap recipes (including, for example, a bread sandwich):
http://studentrecipes.com/recipes/cook-to-impress/bread-sandwich/

4) Secretly practice your boyfriend's favourite Xbox game until you have got better at it than him.

Tried?: I did try to teach myself how to pwn Laurence at RockBand \m/, my weapon of choice was the guitar. I secretly practiced for about four days but lost interest when I realised that I have absolutely zero hand-eye co-ordination. I eventually gave up on day 4 when a lunge to get "overdrive" points caused me to accidentally hit myself in the face. I can still only just about manage to play it on "medium". Sigh...

Why is it useful?: Because, here's what I imagined would happen, I'd learn to play something horrendously difficult like Raining Blood on "expert". Then, next time he had his mates over, they'd all go to play it and I'd be like "can I have a go?". And they would be like "err okay (hahahaha)", then I would thrash it, and everyone would think I was made of awesome. Technically, your bf should already think this, but it doesn't hurt to reaffirm it with Xbox skillz.

                                                        Yeah, so this is me playing...NOT

5) Learna Mandarinoo. No I'm serious. Learn Mandarin!

Tried?: A work-in-progress but yes, I took Mandarin classes for extra credits at Uni and it's bloody hard. I haven't studied it for a few years now but I can still remember some very useful *ahem* sentences about buying oranges, introducing your friends and visiting the Post Office. Oh yeah...check me out! Unfortunately, it IS very difficult, I'm not gonna lie. Still cool though, hey? (Playing a bit fast and loose with the word "cool" there, Becky).

Why is it useful?: Because China will soon rule the world - and you've probably already got American down. I mean, everyone in the UK learns an American accent when they're, like, 3 yrs old from all the Disney films and Barbie adverts...don't they? ("C'mon Barbie let's go party!", "Ah ah ah yeah!"). If I were you though, when you do study Mandarin, I would skip learning about oranges and post offices and get straight to the business negotiation/ diplomacy module.

Well, I hope you are now REFOCUSSED now run along and finish whatever you were supposed to be doing before you started reading this...

Cheerio! x

Ranting| Felix Baumgartner is a douche...

Last week, the world went crazy when one douchebag decided to jump FROM THE EDGE OF SPACE with nothing but a parachute. Now, I know this will sound like I am just insanely jealous but I think Baumgartner is a complete dime bar.

What is his job? Well, according to Wikipedia he is a skydiver, daredevil and BASE jumper (you apparently have to write it like that - "BASE"). So basically, he gets paid shit loads of money to fall off stuff. Hmmm. I fall over frequently, I walk into doors, and I do that weird thing where I accidentally take an extra step on the staircase at home or miss the last step. Do I get paid for these things? No! Admittedly, I wouldn't throw myself off a cliff or anything - not intentionally anyway. And I don't think we should really be encouraging people in that...

I mean, the only difference, in my opinion anyway, between daredevilling (yeah, that's a verb!) and suicide is the intention to survive. Well, I have an idea, if you want to survive, how about you DON'T jump out of a pod on the edge of space. Okay, I know he did survive and everything, and that it's a great feat of - what? - Science? Human Survival? So he's a record-breaker. Well. Done.

He might be hot and have a very cute name but he is clearly nuts. Also, as my brother said, he would have earnt a lot more cool points if he had said some clever last words:

"One small step for MAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...."