delve a little deeper....
Just a quick piccie. I have no news. I may blog later when I am more awake about something other than football and my boobs!
Do note the red and blue nail polish. I bought some white but it just looked like I tippexed on my nails (like we did at school) so gave up on it and stuck with red and blue.
So, inevitably Spain beat France which means they will meet Portugal in the semis. Of course (and sadly) Germany beat Greece which is a shame because Greece really need cheering up right now and of course it means when (if) England beat Italy tomorrow we shall meet the Germans and we all know that rarely ends well....
Of course the Italians and The Germans don't have me and my various body parts encouraging them on. Here is picture 2 of 3 from the red vest with St George's cross in diamante design set!
Today I have tidied and cleaned and sorted tedious paperwork out. It was dull but useful. I am now watching TOTP2. They just played this which I sang along to.
Let's just ignore the ridiculous outdated notion of the song and the fact any man of mine would be likely you say 'Yuck, fuck off' if I tried to sing this to them, but alone in my lounge it makes for a nice singalong!
Right, things to do, people top see, toddle pip folks!
Yay to England! I will have to come up with something pretty to post for the game on Sunday now, hmmm, any ideas?
I actually missed most of the game in the end due to slow service at restaurant and the pub we ended up in switching the screen near us to another channel (why?!) and then was on a train. Oh well, shall plan Sunday's movements a bit more carefully.
In unrelated plugging news a friend of mine who is very clever is involved with this-
If you're into audiobooks and have an iphone this will be the site for you. Go have a look and subscribe now! More info here in this Bookseller article. Am very proud of him and this is the result of a lot of hard work.
I had my hair cut yesterday. I hate going to the hairdressers. Most people seem to enjoy it and say how lovely it is to have someone wash their hair. Despite the intimate nature of my chosen career I actually don't particularly like having my head massaged by someone don't know. I hate the water trickling down your neck in those backwards sink things, I hate looking at myself in the mirror for extended periods of time and having my hair cut weirdly makes me want to fall asleep, which I know sounds like I'm relaxed but I'm not, I'm bored rigid and its annoying trying to keep awake, that or it makes me twitch and fidget like a small child at the cinema who needs a wee and has worms.
I have found the perfect hairdresser though. He is Polish and grumpy and doesn't speak to me. This is good, I also dislike the chatter some hairdressers do... "been anywhere on your holidays?"... type thing. He has learnt to interpret my 'Oh, just do something with it!' response to what I want doing with my hair. He has learnt not to try and persuade me to have layers which end up growing out messily or giving me a side parting as opposed to my natural straight down the middle one. So many hairdressers seem to think this is a good idea, but trust me my hair (like me) goes where the bloody hell it wants to and will not be coaxed down a path it doesn't want to take. Oh and he is quick too which is good.
I have yet to train him out of filling my hair with products which make me worry if someone lights a cigarette near me I will go up with a big bang!
Gosh, just read that back, it makes me sound really grumpy and unfriendly doesn't it? I'm very nice really. It's just hairdressers I am phobic about. I think it stems from having to have my beautiful long blond hair lopped off as a child (about 7 or 8 I think) when it became so fine, damaged and split as a child. It also went from blonde to brown in this period so I blamed the cruel hacking off of my locks on changing my hair colour too. Probably just a coincidence and I was always destined to get darker over the years. My poor mother was always mortified when we had to go to a hairdresser because I would tut, sigh and fidget all the way through as if the hairdresser was inflicting some great nuisance on me.
I then had a hairdresser who used to come to my parents's house. She was great tolerated my crazy hair style and colour whims as a teenager, was very good and very quick and I could wash my own hair for her arrival so didn't have to deal with the hair rubbing thing. I used to book her when I visited my parents years after I left home. When she retired (to live a life of luxury, not because she was elderly) I was gutted and had to find a proper hairdresser in London. As I was now in a proper grown up job I had a responsibility to look half decent and not get away with a stupidly long fringe and wonky ends where I had slashed away with a pair of scissors myself. Nothing good ever comes from cutting your own hair!
I'm not entirely sure how this ended up in a blog about my hair- be thankful I haven't told you the story about when I got nits at 17 or when I decided to go blonde (using a home dye kit) and went orange instead...
Right, I have sat still long enough (waiting for floors to dry after washing them) so shall tootle on with my chores.
OK, something different for tonight's game! Tits with (badly painted) St Georges Crosses!
Am out to dinner tonight with my sister in law so I think we will have to find somewhere with food and a telly. She's in London on business so I didn't choose the date. Maybe we'll have an early dinner and then find a pub. That seems like a plan.
Off to get my hair cut now, it's driving me nuts, can't do a thing with it so despite deciding to grow it a bit longer I'm going to have it lopped off. Not too short though do not fear!
OK, a couple more supportive help England win by getting my tits out in a patriotic manner photos for you. I need ideas for the next game....
If you didn't know the title of this blog is Shakespeare,
Henry The Fifth Act 3, scene 1, 1–6
Ok we didn't beat France, but we didn't lose so clearly my lucky shirt is sort of working! Have a nipple pic to celebrate not losing to the French!
In other news I went to a club Friday night and had sex with a man wearing stockings and heels. It was very sexy. More men should wear ladies underwear.
I couldn't blog whilst I was away because it doesn't work on my phone and to get the app for my website host meant downloading itunes which I really didn't want to do.
Sooo, Guildford was great, much better than Leeds, although I was still getting calls from men in Leeds who sounded nice and genuine and disappointed when I said I was unlikely to be going back! We had a lovely apartment in Guildford and the weather was still reasonable. As well as working I also did a bit of shopping and also went off to visit the castle. I have a bit of a thing about castles (don't ask) and I got to climb to the top and look at the view of the city and the countryside. I shall not bore you with the photos I took!
Ok, am having to dash off now (outcall!) but will do some proper blogging later! For now have a pic from my Help England win the Euros by wearing an England top in a provocative manner range.
With 11 days until the start of Euro 2012 (that's football if you're not sure!) I have acquired a blue England top which I thought I would throw on and take a few pics. What better way to support the England team than put on a top and play with my tits whilst wearing it?! Am sure it will act as a lucky charm for them!
Anyway, countdown starts here. Enjoy!