Mind the doormouse.

Stop Watching This Blog (50)

I don't drink water - fish fuck in it.

This blog is visible to alt members only. If I find any of it reproduced elsewhere I will dice your spleen and pan fry it.

The Fall of Rome May 28, 2008 1:17 pm
1285 views
Also known as people dressed in Togas all fucking about whilst Rome burns. On a Saturday. In South London (humour me)

That's where I've been. Oiled slaves and naked banquet tables don't just happen by themselves you know.
1 comment
Stationary porn May 27, 2008 7:28 am
1523 views

Still gathering thoughts, and indeed momentum.

The great thing about organising things is the often overlooked stationary fetish. Oh yes, those yellow legal pads, binders in all sizes. dividers, post-it-notes, chunky block notepads, giant fresh markers, biros and sexy sexy flip charts.

Not to exclude, the magnificent octopus, that is, the year planner.

oooh I do love an organise. I'm dreadful at it though, which is why I have help. I just get to drool over the stationary and shout stupid things which mutate into ideas.
3 comments
Ability May 22, 2008 4:30 pm
1397 views
Before I even start on what it is I'm supposed to be writing about (disability and fucking) let me please please enlighten all of you who have been sensible and avoided the madman that is R Kelly about the closet.

I haven't laughed so fekkin hard since Grandma fell of the roof.

You toooob said man along with the legend 'in the closet'. Get tea. Sit. Start at part one. Laugh until you cough up a vital organ.

Anyway. So it started as a joke. *disclaimer - anyone ANYONE who makes a stupid arse comment about what I write next will get a punch in the throat. Go dig around the blog and find post about my first boyfriend.*

I may or may not have mentioned that I am planning on taking over the universe. Timescales are vague but absolute. There are various facilitators poised all over the World ready to leap into action like a bunch of demented drug-addled ninja chimps (oooh - ask a ninja - also a brilliant distraction from life in general)

So my dark army and I are sitting discussing club nights. How we can create one SO vile, we'll only do it once, and then sit back and watch the UK get it's knickers crammed firmly up their huge collective Jeremy "I'm a cunt and so are my guests" Kyle arsehole. So we decide on SpaKK.

SpaKK is a nasty fucking term for what used to be called a spastic:

However, the term began to be used as an insult, and became a term of abuse for an ungainly or physically inept person, derived from a common misconception that those with any physical disability resulting in spasticity would necessarily also have a mental or developmental disability. It is often colloquially abbreviated to forms such as "spa", "spaz", "spazmoid", "spazzer", "spazmo", "spack", "spackhead", "spacko" and "spacker".
*source wiki*

You can see where we were going eh? Other names pitched included 'Joey'...

How to create a night where the tone was so low you had to dig for it. Where wheelchairs were available in reception for those who fancied spazzing out for a night. Where all the seating was at floor level and webcams were linked up to a massive screen above the DJ so everyone could see people fall over. Where the dress code was 'the more wrong it is the more discount you get' and the drinks came in colostomy bags.

Then it got funnier. The deaf disco with nothing but people hitting things to provide vibrations to dance to, the blind dance room which was an iPod disco and everyone was dancing to their own tunes in the dark.

The big fekking leftie mistake we all make from time to time (aside that from anyone with a beard carrying a fitness first bag is going to blow up our tube, any black guy in a hoodie isn't just trying to keep his ears warm and any emo fuckwit is actually a nice person inside) is that disabled, differently abled whatever the fuck we're labelling people as this week, can't laugh at themselves. Or are somehow sexless.

I've always found that odd particularly, even if your cock's broken, usually your mind works, and any prick who thinks sexuality isn't nearly all head fucking is a tosser of the highest order.

One of the finest, filthiest Dommes I know (and she is worthy of note regardless of what I am about to impart) has one leg. I have seen her beat a guy with her other one. Heather Mills could learn a lot.

My first boyfriend could only walk when we got him hammered enough to shut off the part of his brain that affected his motor funtions. Did we laugh when he did it on his wasted legs and fell over? Hell yes we did.

Did my friends recently get pissed with another paraplegic mate and decide it would be a jolly wheeze to launch him down the stairs? Oh yes, did they all have a fucking marvellous time? Oh yes.

Do we need to be all pussy footed around people on a different level to us? Do we? really? One of my funniest and most memorable moments as a table dancer was when a punter forgot to turn his electric wheelchair off and we both ended up skidding across the club cause he got all overexcited and whacked the lever. Me, naked and perched on his footrests, him, laughing his ass off.

Did we all love Sammy, who had a keyboard which spoke in that voice we have all associated with Stephen Hawking, did we make him type things like 'do me big boy'? Hell yes.

I can't end this, there'll be a part two when I've gathered my thoughts a bit more.
4 comments
Whoomp May 22, 2008 6:54 am
1126 views
Knew there was a reason my head atrophied yesterday.

It was because today it was going to go BOOM! Shit is occuring. I have been pruning, both metaphysically and physically. The garden looks superb; my hands are fucked, and I have acheived that most precious of accolades.

The empty laundry basket.

*all bow for reverential silence to the laundry god*

Whatever anyone says about alt in general, it's a fine place to network.
2 comments
blurble May 21, 2008 2:17 pm
753 views

Inside voice and Outside voice regularly swap places.

I don't say things I'm supposed to, only think I have. I say things I really shouldn't, often very loudly and with all the grace and wit of a gin-soaked fishwife.

Par example - to gang of very surly youths in circus who dangled their feet over the back of the chair next to me:

"If I'd wanted to sit next to your fucking feet I'd have bought them a fucking ticket. Savvy?" - followed by me making snapping noises at said surly kid sneakers. Ang ang ang.

Or my personal favourite, after being honked at AGAIN by an annoying person who wanted me to speed up (this is after me swinging my car round to block both lanes, sauntering over to his car with a demonic grin and asking what his major malfunction was)

Him: "I've lived here for 30 years!"
Me: (thinking - whaddafuck?) "Ah I see, so that must make you like...the King yes?"

These are my moments of genius, my moments when instead of thinking 'I WISH I'd fekkin said that' I actually have said it. This is when I have an almost superhuman disregard for my own safety. However, in the human race, demented seems to work. Who knew?

But today the main thing coming out of my mouth has been blurble. A kind of 'ach, I cannae be arsed' version of English. Even my typing isn't working.

Like literal drool; a big puddle of uninspired. I am looking at a lot of pron, maybe incresed testosterone has dulled my capacity to think. Eep.
1 comment
*cough* May 21, 2008 6:37 am
744 views

Haven't had one of these for a while. Must check profile and see if I've turned into Avril Lavigne...

Right after reading your profile i get the feeling that your a very strong and passionate women who loves to fuck with people and their head and should not be taken lightly.

Also i think you hate it when you don't get your own way.

But if i am wrong pleas call me wanker and tell me to fuck right off.

On the other hand if i am right i would love nothing more than for you to dominate me like you little bitch.

If this interest you please send me a message back.

I know....I know...much as I want to just call him a wanker and tell him to fuck off I can't.
0 comments
Scenes May 20, 2008 12:52 pm
805 views

CAN EVERYONE STOP EMAILING
ME 'IDEAS' FOR 'SCENES'?

I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR FUCKING DAY.

GO AWAY.
[

Really, do I look like/sound like/come across as someone who enjoys amateur pron writing? Really? REALLY? the fact that most of it is passive aggressive in the extreme (and then you make me eat your pussy, and pleasure all your female friends. And I'm like "Oh no!") Oh please. Please please fuck off.

Please. Cock.
3 comments
On Faust May 20, 2008 6:18 am
683 views
My good mate Max Faust turned up in Norf London whilst we were out shopping this weekend (with the most cursory of directions which I had sent whilst pissed incredibly) and came bearing wine and vodka and other strange drinks which he thought I'd like because A - they were booze and B - some had pictures of animals on the front.

Un-alt as this may seem we spent most of the afternoon in toyshops with the kids choosing just the right pony figurine, and he purchased a large amount of airplane kits and a squeezy ball.

Now, onto music. I'm sitting here with what may or may not be MTV on. It could be anything in fact, I'm trying to ignore it. Two things have just struck me though.

Firstly, WHAT THE FUCK happened to Avril Lavatory? That cute little angst-ridden, bordering on intelligent Canadian teenager seems to have turned into some hideous bully-girl, picking on geeks and generally behaving in a way that makes me want to smack her in her emo-cheerleader chops.

Secondly, can anyone edit video? Cause I'm SO up for an alt version of 'rock star'....
3 comments
inbox. outbox. May 16, 2008 9:58 am
580 views
We are all used to enjoying the contents of my email inbox, hell, it's become a lovely passtime.

But when I am out and about it's a pain to keep up with, so for the first time, ladies and gentlemen, I present my text inbox (and outbox)

I love random snippets from people's phones, like I love finding shopping lists.

INBOX

*Indiana Jones. Without a hat

*Go on Lucy! That's it Woooh! (it's a praise thing)

*Excellent work! Slinky Pete has taken a wife. Or possibly civil partner. I have found a caravan so small that whoever accompanies me on my excursions will have no choice other than to lie on top of me. Shame.

*Oh my God! He "loses his mind" in the middle but it "COMES BACK". Woooooh

*Check this. I'm sitting by the pool watching a crew build a stage around it which I'll be Dj'ing on, flirting with you, lovely.

*you got an AMEN sista! I am working on my morris dancing running man technique and will show you when you come to stay.

*See, this won't do at all. You're not here.

*probably kill a mortal enemy for you.

*I'll bring salt.

* I told Jenny about the new club night - she doesn't believe you'll do it, some people have no vision...

*Am on the gospel aerobics. This is fucking amazing.

*Nowt wrong with my appetite more's the pity! Thought this cancer malarkey made you thin! Yes my lampshade is only cheap so may not be suitable for your requirements.

*can you see me building a mongolian shelter somewhere west of Ross on Wye? I'm keen on the idea of large stove. And also camp site with showers and toilets and no chavs, nerks, people in football tops, fat people, ugly people, people from cleethorpes, or, let's face it, people in general. It may be called a cottage. With roses around the door.

* You have an ebay account? There is something I must own = handmande reels on the story of Acaeton retold with a man in a room with striped wallpaper and antlers. It also involves a car chase. For my viewfinder obviously. They have mis-filed this piece of artistic genius under 'toys'. Foolish error.

*excellent. I have nirvana. I don't have a gun. But I do have an iron.

I fucking love texts. This can be verified by the fact that I hold the record with O2 for the most texts ever sent from a private phone. I didn't get a prize, just a huge bill. Cunts (2600 texts a month doesn't come cheap either)

OUTBOX

*SHAPES woman, shapes. What time's your set? Shall we come in full evening wear? I quite fancy donning a ta-raa-ra

*A straw works. Also shout 'DANCE PORKY, DANCE LIKE YOU'RE ELVIS' then pretend it's the only English you know.

*God only knows what you would have done had you come home to the, now legendary, 'World of fish tank'

*They already have those. I could sew a nutmeg grater into one pair. Ambush pants.

*Ok, need to think of more tricks to play on *****. Have hidden all his contact lenses and moved all the furniture. What next?

*I'm going to baste your testes in gravy and make them into a pie (I make my own pastry)

*You'll have to catch me first gay boy.

*Bring buns.

What was the last text you got?
4 comments
All around my hat May 14, 2008 5:56 am
595 views

I shall wear a tiny mammal.


Am driving by to keep y'all posted:

1. Feet.

2. Coffee.

3. Carrots.

4. CLEAN THE FUCKING FLOOR WOMAN.

5. Find envelopes.

6. Start law degree.
3 comments

To link to this blog (LadyCReturns) use [blog LadyCReturns] in your messages.

January 2009
Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat
        1
 
2
 
3
 
4
 
5
 
6
 
7
 
8
 
9
 
10
 
11
 
12
 
13
 
14
1
15
 
16
 
17
 
18
 
19
 
20
 
21
 
22
 
23
 
24
 
25
 
26
 
27
 
28
 
29
 
30
 
31
 

Recent Visitors

Visitor Age Sex Date
Geekachu 35M10/26