Your Argument is Invalid.

Dear Morons,

I know there's a lot of hype going around at the moment in regards to the royal wedding, and all you want to do is avoid it. After all, it is taxpayer money that is being used to fund it. Though, do you not think that the royal family would have had that same money regardless of any special occasions? Surely the best way to use it up would be on an event that gives people an extra day off? What's more, the royal family and even parliament are practically begging you to use that day to 'celebrate' the occasion. So why complain? Use the excuse to throw a party or have a night out! Make the most of it all.

However, I do realize that some of you are so against the hype around royal weddings that you would rather sit at home alone than be associated with its celebrations. After all, they wouldn't care if you got married. But PLEASE, I beg of you, NEVER complain that this country has no sense of national pride if you can't bring yourself to celebrate the continuation of the very institution that set up this nation and made it what it is today.

I can't stand hypocrites.

P.S. Also, she is about to live out every little girl's dream and get married in a big church surrounded by loads of people and become a princess. Thanks to her, the disney dream can remain alive and well in all of us.

TODAY!

I've probably had one of the most bizarre days of my life today. It would appear that my brain has stopped working. More so than usual (I know that doesn't make sense but THIS IS WHAT I MEAN). I personally blame it on this whole caffeine free month I'm doing throughout February because I seem to enjoy torturing myself like some kind of sadist. Whatever the reason, I'm going to share some of my bizarre brainless moments.

Firstly, I awoke super early (7am!) to go to college. Then I 'remembered' that college didn't start until 12 O'Clock. Unfortunately, I didn't realise this until I'd already got dressed, so going back to bed wasn't really on the cards.

Next, I thought I'd catch an earlier train into college. This would give me plenty of time to find out which room I was supposed to be in. Turned out that even the reception ladies were having a hard time finding out where I should be, because my exams weren't until 2:30. That was when I remembered I'm usually in at 2pm on a Tuesday.

Deciding I had 3 hours to kill in a town where old ladies hog the streets like a brigade of Orcs, I thought it would be a good idea to go get a stamp from the post office, on pension day.

Happy that I had seemingly just walked into Mordor for a stamp (cue geek appreciation), I posted my letter. Then I waited. I don't know what I was waiting for, but I think it was for some kind of confirmation that the box had in fact received my letter and was dealing with it as fast as possible.

I spent the rest of my newly found free time partaking in some tasty times at The Wooly Sheep, which involved outrageous beads and Kelly (a fellow bar wench) getting very sticky. A good time was had by all, except Kelly's balls, which got pierced.

Then I went and passed some exams and spent time at work etc, only to head off home and realise I now needed to wake my mum from a deep slumber, because I had forgotten my keys.

And now, I thought it a good idea to stay up until 1:30am writing about my lack of brains, when I'm up at 7am.

Pure Genius.

Worst Blog Yet.

Okay, so I'm not allowed to put "Gren suggested Lint...He's an arse!" regardless of how true it may be. I'm becoming aware that my friends are attempting to come up with ideas that will thwart my ability to ramble on about anything. But I refuse to be silenced.

So. Lint. Often found on those little screen things inside clothes dryers. I used to love cleaning that little screen, unless my asthma was having a bad day. The highlight of doing it was knowing I could use it for whatever I wanted. I could've collected it and covered my brother's bed in the stuff. I could've used it to fill a bucket on top of his bedroom door so it landed on his head. I could've put it into his car heaters so that when he turned his engine on it would all blast in his face. Unfortunately, my brother happens to be five years older than I am, and I wasn't up for dying in the name of practical jokes.

And that's all I really have to say about lint. Except to ask where it comes from. If you dry a top in the dryer enough times, does it disintegrate? Or does it stop leaving lint? Or is that like the chicken/egg problem?

The Blu Tac Paradigm Dissolver

Another day, another post. I'm genuinely wondering where I've found all this spare time lately.

As I stated in previous posts, I've taken to blogging about whatever my friends suggest. Today's topic: Blu Tac. Apparently my friends like to read about stuff you stick on walls.

I think I should start off by pointing out I haven't come across any ACTUAL Blu Tac in years. These days it's all about the white stuff, which I hate due to it's uncanny resemblance to chewing gum. I'd be lying if I didn't say I'd already thought about the possibility of there being large factories where kids are made to sit chewing gum all day, but realised the improbability of this being white tac's origin when I noticed it doesn't smell like mint.

ANYWAY, back to the topic at hand. My mum used to tell me off when I was younger for sticking blu tac onto walls. She claimed that it could colour the wall, tear the wallpaper or peel off the paint/plaster. Being the destructive child I was, I often set out to try and prove her right. However, I caused very little damage to any surface I attempted to deface. In my outrage at the lies my mother had told me, I told my mum all about my failed attempts. Unfortunately, I had failed to see that my mother would care more about my destructive behavior than her lying tendences, so I became rather shocked to find myself banished to my room.

School, it would seem, could not have disagreed more with my mother about the qualities of blu tac. They used it to stick anything and everything to the walls. It was here that I discovered how to obtain an endless supply of blu tac. Lie to your teachers.

(please note: I'm am tipsy and not an artist. Don't judge me.)

It was also at school how I discovered my artistic capabilities with blu tac. And by that, I mean I could make fantastic little penguins wearing beanie hats and scarfts. I always assumed that my ability to do this meant anyone could make models out of blu tac, given that I'm about as artistic as lion with a pencil. But I have yet to come across an artist who uses blu tac as their main medium, so perhaps my abilities are a rare and exceptional talent.

For those a little confused by the above picture, that's pink blu tac. Apparently it raises awareness for breast cancer research, but personally I think the contradictions in the name take away from that. Also, the 20p is there for size reference, not to show off my wealth.

The Blogging Equivalent Of A Bus

It would appear I'm getting into this blogging business. The only trouble is that I fail to think of what to blog about. I'd blog more about my daily experiences, but as a 19 year old bar wench, life isn't really all that exciting on a day-to-day basis. Yet do not fret, for I have found an ingenious way in which I can come up with new topics. I ask my friends for ideas.

In hindsight, I could have told you about how today was the first day of my Foundation Degree in Hospitality Management. Yet it has been suggested that I write a post about wallpaper instead. Now, as a closet nerd, I view life as a bit of a game. Every time I pass a challenge, I level up in life. Needless to say, blogging about wallpaper seems like one hell of a challenge, and I'll be damned if I miss a chance to level up.

So. Wallpaper. The concept of the stuff is pretty simple for those of you who haven't come across it before. It's paper, that you stick on your walls. What gets me is that someone had to come up with that idea first. Who sat there watching paint dry on a wall and thought "there must be another way".

Over the years (all 19 of them) I've encountered wallpaper a number of times. My first REAL experience, however, was when I was 6 years old and I got to decorate my new room. My mum took me shopping and let me pick my own wallpaper. I wasn't ever a conventional 6 year old girl, so instead of the baby pink patterned wallpaper my mum was trying to push me towards, I insisted on this one:

It looked a bit bare in places, so being the creative child I was, I filled in some of the white patches, with more dots.

Needless to say, I wasn't allowed to decorate my room ever again.

These days, wallpaper has come a long way from its original designs. Not only can you now get textured wallpaper, you can even get 'no paste' wallpaper. All genius inventions, I'm sure you'll agree. Yet apparently there was a gap in the market for something more. What about the people who wanted textured wallpaper, without the texture. Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you the (not-so) wonderful world of optical illusion paper. Now I know what you're thinking, but don't. This stuff, in the right setting, can be pure genius. Imagine, if you will, a young bar wench goes for some drinks with her colleagues in a different bar. A bar that has recently been refurbished. She sits with her drink, and after a few, she notices the walls appear to be made of studded leather. Once she is sure no one is looking, she touches the wall, only to discover it is completely flat. Impressed, yet feeling a little foolish, she carries on socializing. Yet her feelings of foolishness soon subside, when her boss (a formidable man who's intelligence should never be questioned, even if he declares 1+1=3) reaches out and touches the wall. Instantly, all feelings of inadequate intelligence dissolve, elating the young bar wench's feelings of self-worth to a new high. That is, until she dribbles her drink on herself.

So you see? Wallpaper has so much potential. It can allow a child to express their inner lack of creativity, or demonstrate to people that it's okay to be stupid, because everyone else is too. Wallpaper is, without a doubt, the best invention man ever designed to be stuck onto vast areas of walls with paste.

She's a maniac

MANIAC on the floor. And she's dancing like she's never danced before.

On a (not-so) unrelated note, it has been suggested (by my best friend) that I write a blog about my best friend. So, allow me to pre-warn you about how random/lesbian this could get.

Where to start? I suppose I ought to off with what she looks like. She's a volunteer ginger, with some of the best curly hair I've ever seen. I've always wanted curly hair so I do tend to judge peoples curls quite often. She's a TINY bit taller than me, but an entire TWO WEEKS younger. She's slim, but has bigger boobs than me, which is rather annoying. She's also got a really pretty face, the kind that always looks happy. Oh, and a great bum too.

Now that we've cleared up the fact that she is fit as fuck, allow me to move onto why I'm friends with this little lady.

The simple answer would be to say she is amazing, but that would be the understatement of a lifetime. She's one of those rare people who gets ridiculously silly at times, but still manages to be regarded as one of the more mature people in any group (except a group of OAPs). This means she pretty damn handy to have around if you're feeling about down in the dumps. She sits, and she listens, and she advises. And then she makes you laugh. And she's good at doing all that (except sitting, neither of us sit still very well). I assume a lot of it is down to her mad psychology skills (she's super smart!), but mostly I think it's because she has a genuine caring nature, which is something you don't come across often enough. AND she's "chronically hilarious".

Now, for those who don't know (or haven't guessed who I'm on about), her surname is Strong. In all honesty, I have never known anyone live up to their name in the way she does. She is a massive inspiration to me for the strength she shows at the most difficult of times. I'm not just talking about how she deals with her own problems though. I'm also talking about how she copes with other people in that time. She can be having the worst day, but if I so much as hint that something small may be wrong with me, she asks about it. Whether it's to distract herself from her own issues, I don't know. But the gesture always comes with a genuine kindness to it that makes you feel like you can talk to her, at anytime, about anything, and not have to feel guilty about sharing your problems.

Over the past few years, I've met people who know her 'life story' as it were, and they often say things like "I don't know what I'd do if that happened to me". Well, to put it blunt, she isn't you (okay, that line won't be true for ONE reader), she's herself, and she handles everything damn well. Recently, people have been asking me "what is she going to do?" and my answer is always "I don't know". But at the same time, I'm not worried for her in the slightest. I've seen her go through some tough times and handle them better than most adults. I know enough about her social circles to know she'll never be alone and in need of company. I know enough about her work ethic to realise she'll always be secure in whatever job she has.

There are a few people out there who I dare say would feel sorry for her, and I would be amongst them, but for different reasons. I never have to worry about her or pity her because I know she'll handle anything she has to deal with. The only reason I feel sorry for her, is because she's probably sat reading this thinking "silly Amy writing crazy things". She truly doesn't realise how much of an amazing and inspiring person she is, making her a prime example of how modesty can border stupidity.

In all honesty, if people aspired to be even half as decent a person as her, the world would be a much better place.

P.S. Just thought I'd dedicate this post to Dave and Veronica Strong, seen as she wouldn't be here/be so amazing without them. Thank you for raising the most amazing girl I know.

Sex.

I'll be honest, I've slept with a few people. Infact, I appear to have slept with more than my fair share of guys. Some people might label me as a slag for it. Others might excuse me on the grounds that it's clearly due to some underlying self-esteem issue. The truth? I just really like sex.

I know it's a hard concept for people to grasp, but in this day and age, why are people ever suprised to hear a girl say she enjoys sex? If a guy says it, it's all too obvious. Yet for some reason we just don't expect women to admit to liking sex.

So now I've cleared that issue up for you, I'll let you in on another (not-so-) secret. I've had one night stands. A fair few if I'm quite honest, and here's a little something I've noticed: there are different types of one night stands.

Now, I'm a firm believer in sharing knowledge. "Lampada tradere nostrum est" is probably the biggest lesson I ever got from good ol' BGS. So I believe that it is my duty as an 'amateur' whore (I say amateur because I don't get paid, not because I'm shit) to inform those of you less aware of these different varieties of sexual encounters.

Here we go...

The Relationship

In my opinion, this is the best kind (those who know me will no doubt be shocked). Let's face it, even when it's shit, it's still good because they know what you like. The only down side is when you've been together a while and things get boring. But I'm pretty sure there's PLENTY of things you can do to spice things up a little when things hit that stage.

The Stranger Danger

Not one I'd ever recommend. Let's face it, if you go home with a stranger and you wake up the next morning, you're lucky. So if you go home with a stranger and somehow manage to have great sex, you're part of a miracle. This isn't something I've ever done, so I can't really comment any further other than to say DON'T DO IT!

The Aquaintance

This could be a friend's friend you've just met, or someone who hangs with your group of friends but you never really talk to. The bonus side of things is you don't have to see them again if you don't want to. The down side is not knowing each other, and so not having a clue what the other likes, or being confident enough to say what you like. Get into this situation, and I can guarantee a completely missionary/cowgirl performance.

The Friend

So they say there's no such thing as a platonic friendship between opposite sexes. It's a lie. Being friends doesn't have to lead to sex. But when it does, the outcomes couldn't be more varied. You could wake up and feel terrible and ashamed of yourselves, never speaking again. This kinda ruins the friendship. However, given that you know each other, you might actually have the confidence to talk, both during and after. This leads to fantastic sex because you can tell each other what you want, but also allows you to let each other know where you both stand in the after stages. But be warned, ensuing pillow talk is often random and about nothing, so try not to analyze it too much.

The Not-Just-One-Night Stand

AKA; fuck buddy, booty call, hook up

All the benefits of a friend, and more. You know what you both like, so can do things without being asked. HOWEVER, things can go very wrong. You may find things like affection becoming involved. This doesn't really mean anything other than "I like sex with you", but I can guarantee you'll read more into it than that. Panic can ensue and soon enough you'll find yourself thinking: "OMG what if he likes me and I'm stringing him along by accident? But am I stringing him along? Maybe I like him? Oh God I think I do like him. No. No! I just like the sex. I have to let him know it's nothing more. But what if I do really like him and that's why I like the sex? I'm gonna screw myself over by trying to play it safe." That's the kinda shit that will drive you crazy. So keep it as simple as possible and try not to question it too much.

So there you have it. A 19 year-old's insight into sex in all it's various forms. Except rape.

Yeah, don't rape people. Asides from the obvious trauma it causes, it's just damn rude.