Twitter

I am now available on Twitter, as @blogmella, in case you care. I’m a bit mental and sometimes boring but at least I no longer bang on about Celebrity Big Brother (only because it has ended).

Will soon start making occasional posts on my boyfriend’s (SoylentDave) website which should be fun.

Love to you all and please look at my Blogroll – those people are awesome!

Another Shocking Post About Zombie Aid

Despite SoylentDave’s earlier efforts to expose the behaviour of Carl Whiteley and Zombie Aid, and despite an article on similar lines being published in the Manchester Evening News, it now seems moves are being made for yet another “charity” event (involving Carl) to take place.

Time for Dave to publish some more of our evidence!

Zombie Aid 2 – Carl Whiteley

Killing Zombies For Charity!

Can The Undead Be Killed?. Please check out the link and make a donation. It is as simple as paying on Amazon but it helps somebody who is severely disabled to enjoy computer games. That’s just awesome.

Zombie Aid – What’s Going On?

This article, “The Truth about Zombie Aid” deals with the activities of a guy named Carl Whiteley and his attempts to raise funds with Zombie Walks, in Manchester UK. Is Carl the best person to do this? And when he collects money, does it end up with the charities?

The Type Of Person I Hate

The art teacher who draws on your picture. WTF does this person think he (or she) is doing? YES the legs are too short, NO cows don’t have the same tails as horses…  But tell me with WORDS, indicate with your finger, Most of all DO NOT DRAW ON MY PICTURE. Nobody should draw on somebody else’s picture. Even Simon Cowell wouldn’t draw on somebody else’s picture. I hate that sort of art teacher.

The person who chats with you but doesn’t listen – and then enquires about something that you’ve already explained. “Is your brother going to be there?”, YES you ignorant f*ck, I told you about two minutes ago that he is driving up with his family to be there. You’re not old, you’re not deaf and you don’t have special needs… You’re just so RUDE and SELFISH that as far as you are concerned, my words are mere punctuations, rests if you will, between your own verbal spewing. In other words, you’re not listening.

The person who dumps you romantically and then says “But we can still be friends, right?” Oh yeah, OF COURSE we can. I mean, OK, you’ve just reached into my chest, torn out my heart and spat on it… But I’d still like to hang out. Hell, I hope I’m hanging out with you when you meet someone better than me, someone you can REALLY love, it will give me something to live up to! Oh please. The only way I can be friends with an Ex who dumped me, is if five years of no contact have passed (and I’m over him), or if he has been mangled in a horrible farm-machinery accident, (which would possibly dredge  up some pity in me).

The person who tries to be “wacky” or “zany” because they cannot face how boring they are. Anyone who says “everyone at work thinks I am just CRAZY! They never know what I’m going to do next!” Should eat shit and die. I swear, that person isn’t “fun”, they are the most loathed and avoided person in the building. People who are mad don’t know it – so if you’re going around saying “I’m mad!”, what you probably mean is “I want to be funny but I’m not”. And laughing loudly in a stupid way doesn’t make you interesting either, which is why I stopped meeting Jane for coffee and started pretending that I was dead when she called.

The sort of person who says “I never watch TV”. Not people who just haven’t got time, or the money for a TV, but the person who uses this as a way to prove how CLEVER they are. Refusing to watch TV doesn’t make you any brighter than someone who refuses to read books (there are some rubbish ones in Waterstones you know), or someone who refuses to go to the cinema (because they once saw “Joe vs The Volcano”). TV is like everything else, you have to exercise some taste and frankly if you’d rather miss all the GOOD things on TV than do that, I think you’re rather stupid.

The person who says “I speak my mind”. OK, I know, I’ve just spent far too much of your time speaking my mind… But c’mon, you know the sort of person I mean. I hate it when people pretend that being insensitive is a virtue, especially if that same person gets all moody when they get some back. There is a pretty thick line between being “honest” and being “cruel” and people who decide to “speak their minds” usually know full well that they are crossing it, in big stomping boots. What they really mean is “I’m a verbal bully, with no social skills”. Or in the case of the UK “I’m from Yorkshire”.

I actually hate more people than this but I’ve said enough for one day. Who do you hate?

8 Reasons Why Homemade Cards Suck

Call me old-fashioned but when I get a card for my birthday, or Christmas, I like that card to have been printed in a factory and bought by the sender, in a shop. Why? Because homemade cards SUCK. You probably think so too but you’re too nice to say it. Or maybe you make them yourself and are deluded enough to think homemade cards are cool. They’re not, homemade cards definitely suck – and this is why:

1) They are too heavy. People create homemade cards out of “Heavy Duty” construction paper (or something), in order to give the illusion of “quality”  and to make them seem less like a poor substitute for a  REAL greetings card. Nobody is fooled by this. Now add the weight of various pieces of stuck-on crap and  my heart can begin sinking, even before I have opened the (lumpy) envelope.

2) “Less is more”. People who make their own cards never seem to get this. I don’t want a card covered in lace, buttons, wood, glitter, foil, old ripped up wrapping paper and other bits of random recycling. I simply want a flat card, with proper printing and a proper picture, that stands up properly.

3) They are made with “time release” glue. Getting a homemade card out of the envelope, in one piece, is a bit like defusing a nail-bomb – but less rewarding. What the hell do people use to stick these things together? Spit? Of course, you can always adopt my strategy – which is to RIP the card out of the envelope, say “Oh NO! It’s broken!” and throw all the component parts straight into the rubbish bin.

4) Most people are not gifted at art. There is a reason why Hallmark employ trained graphic designers to create their cards. A quick glance, at the homemade abominations your “crafty” friends have sent you, will make that reason clear.

5) Sometimes “homemade” stretches the truth. Occasionally, people acknowledge that they fall into the category of reason #4 and decide to buy a “kit” of card-making components – which they then dutifully sit and assemble, with their “sticky until it dries” glue and an instruction sheet in front of them. WTF? That makes absolutely no sense at ALL. If someone knows they are  useless at art, and they have no ideas of their own, why don’t they just buy NORMAL bloody cards and send those?

6) You can’t throw homemade cards away (without looking like a villain). Well, I can (see #3) but it is still much harder than chucking out an old “bought” card. Being given a homemade card makes it appear that somebody has put time and effort into it,  just for you. Throwing away that little token of  love would look like rejection and ingratitude, so you’re stuck with it forever. Even though we all know that the person who made it was probably, a) bored and wanted a hobby, and b) trying to save money.

7) The writing on homemade cards is sh*t. I want a card with decent writing. I don’t want some wonky calligraphy, done in felt pen. I don’t want a cheap “gold” Happy Birthday! that has been peeled off a backing-sheet and looks totally incongruous with the rest of the card. I don’t want the words on my card to have been cut out of a magazine “kidnapper” style. In short, I want a mass-produced card.

8) Homemade cards are not funny. I only really like funny cards and I’ve never seen a homemade card that was funny. By “funny” I mean ones that I can laugh WITH… Obviously I have been sent homemade cards that I laughed AT.

It’s not just me is it? And I haven’t even mentioned the fact that my Mum buys sh*tty little homemade cards that OTHER PEOPLE have made – and then sends them to me on my birthday. WTF is THAT about?  Homemade cards truly suck.

God Is From Ghana

At the Church I go to, services are structured around  The Book Of Common Prayer and thus they tend to have a series of elements that are repeated every week. The Priest, or reader, says something and the congregation reply.

Because I am relatively new to Church, I tend to listen very carefully to the people around me, to make sure I am saying the right thing (there is a booklet but it can get confusing). I also tend to stand in the same place, in the same pew, every Sunday… And that is how I found out that Ghanaian is THE accent of Christianity.

Every week I hear the Ghanaian lady behind me (also a creature of habit about where she stands), saying her prayers etc. and it sounds PERFECT. Sometimes we have a Bible reading by an elderly Ghanaian guy and that too is absolutely awesome. God should be called “The LAAAHHHD” and nothing else. I love hearing it, it inspires me. By contrast my “Lawd” sounds utterly rubbish.

I’m still finding Church brilliant and peaceful and a joy. Sadly, I got a bit drunk at the “Bring and Share” lunch today and staggered home like a lush. I’d better say a couple of prayers to apologise to the LAAAHHHD for that, I think.

The Website I Can’t Stay Away From

Here it is folks –

http://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/ 

I love this website and I visit it almost every day. Why? Because it has a clean, simple beauty. I can look at this website and find out something interesting about almost anywhere in the World. No political bias, no religious opinions, no stupid blogger trying to be funny… The World Clock just tells the time. And it tells it like it is.

If I’m surfing the internet at bedtime, I can look at the World Clock and go “Wow! People in New York are just leaving work!”. Then I’ll scan through and see that in Kuala Lumpur they are just sitting down to breakfast. And Dubai? They are probably already fast asleep.

It isn’t just the times though. Did you know there is a place called Tegucigalpa? No, nor did I. Anadyr? Never heard of it. Sometimes I just look at place names and think “I KNOW SOMEONE WHO LIVES THERE!” and feel all important and smug.

The World Clock has other features but I don’t bother too much with those. I just like seeing what time it is, somewhere else. What? It is very, very cool.

My Date With Davros (Leader Of The Daleks)

As I mentioned in my post YESTERDAY, I had a date last night – with Davros, leader of the Daleks. What an evening! Davros is quite a guy.

Davros likes sushi

 We decided to meet up for sushi, since Davros had never tried it before and I like it so much. We made plans over the phone – so Davros agreed to wear a pink rose in his buttonhole, in case I didn’t recognise him. I carried a copy of  Woman’s Weekly, so he would know me.

At the start of the date, Davros was a little shy. He is often stared at in public, because of the negative image he was given on Doctor Who.

“It was all about the editing” he told me later, “They deliberately made me look bad.”

I felt rather sorry for him and certainly found him to be a complete gentleman. He was very attentive to my every need and even threatened to DESTROY a waitress, when she forgot my drink. Bless him. He liked sushi and since he only has one arm, it was perfect for him to just pop in his mouth.

We soon got chatting and found out we have loads in common. Davros likes cats and has a ginger tom called Simon. We both dislike spiders. Like me, Davros is an avid Manchester United supporter – he frequently joked that local rivals Manchester City should be “EXTERMINATED!” which was hilarious. In the end though, I had to ask him to lower his voice. He is very loud when he gets excited and I know that’s just part of his Kaled culture, but as I told him,

“You’re not on Skaro now and you’re not in America either – so keep the volume down!”.

Davros couldn’t guess my star sign and was amazed to hear that I am an Aries! He was very pleased and couldn’t wait to point out that as a Sagittarius his sign is compatible with mine. Sometimes I could see quite a twinkle in his cybernetic eye.

Of course, Davros also has a serious side and I have to admit, we did discover some huge areas of difference. Politically we are poles apart – I’m a “bleeding-heart liberal”, whereas Davros wants to control the entire Universe by wiping out any race, or individual, who stands in his way. He is a science geek and can hold forth on many areas of science, especially genetic engineering and biological warfare. In contrast, I got a “C” in my Biology ‘O’ Level and used to be an active member of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. We still had a lovely chat though.

In the end, Davros and I decided to be “just friends”. He was much nicer than I expected and much more charming than you might imagine. If I learned anything from my time with him, it is that you shouldn’t judge somebody until you have actually met them and that just because somebody is Supreme Overlord of the Daleks, it doesn’t automatically make them a bad person.

(Picture from Daleklinks)

Watching The Dating Channels

A couple of Brandon’s friends stayed over on his birthday, so yesterday morning (when they had all woken up) I fried up some eggs and bacon, gave them all mugs of tea and put the TV on. We watched a quiz show but after that everything on ordinary TV was boring… So we started watching  Gay Rabbit Chat & Date  and Rabbit Chat & Date  instead.

I find it sad that there are so many lonely people out there – but gawd knows, you can see why some of them are on their own. One guy was the ugliest bloke I’ve ever seen, in make-up and a wig, with eyebrows drawn half-way up his head. His message? “Looking 4 black male” – we all agreed blackmail was more on the cards. Then there was the “str8 guy” who wanted to date a transvestite. Maybe I’m old-fashioned but my definition of  “str8” doesn’t include men who have sex with men in dresses. Lots of very pretty young boys wanted to date men who were “up to 80″… How broad-minded of them!

On non-gay Rabbit, there were two men (looking for “laydeez” ) in sunglasses and reflective safety jackets – They had obviously decided to take their dating profile pictures whilst emptying dustbins, (or completing their court ordered Community Service). Lots of women seem to have gone for “sexy” and totally forgotten about “dignified” in their pictures. As ever, the fatter the women, the more “bubbly” they claimed to be. Far too many people were “LUKIN” for love. Aaaarrrrgh. And the ages… If the ages on EITHER of the dating channels are to be believed, some people have clearly had a lot of worry in their lives.

The biggest hit of the morning though was this message (no picture),

I AM DAVROS, LEADER OF THE DALEKS. I HAVE FAILED IN MY MISSION. I HAVE FAILED. I MUST BE EXTERMINATED. PLEASE EXTERMINATE ME! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!

Hahaha!

Brandon’s friend Ben (who seems to be str8) said the biggest turn off about the parade of mingers on both channels was their “terrible English”. I’m glad to see that the kids Brandon hangs out with aren’t shallow and ARE geeky. I think the most childish person watching was probably me.

 Now, I have to go, sorry. Don’t tell Dave but I have a date with a Dalek.