those times you’re accidently prejudice

I had a classic one of these today while in the car with the kids nan.

we were discussing teaching within schools and she proclaimed.

“Mr *** is a great teacher, I mean hes gay, but, hes a great teacher”


is it surprising that gay people make good teachers?

are they not meant too?

was the “but” necessary?

id of been happy enough to know he was a great teacher, I highly doubt his sexual preferences will pop up in any tests.

just last week I had another classic from one we shall call Bitchy Accidental Racist.

when describing her boyfriends mum she used the words.

“obviously hes mixed race, but his mum is black like REALLY black”


as opposed too?….

tepidly black?

apathetically black?


you’d never hear someone use the words,

shes white, I mean REALLY WHITE.


don’t get this post wrong, I hate how far political correctness is shoved up our arses, I have a (really black) friend who uses racial slur on himself.

just as I have a friend (but hes gay) of whom I tell is camp ALL the time.


I just find it amusing that in trying to be nice people can sound like complete twats about it.

especially the kids nan, and shes ginger, I mean REALLY ginger.



monday, its my friday.

seriously, as a mother Monday is the best day of my week.

its not that I don’t feel sorry for you working folk who’ve come off the back of a nice weekend away from the office, its that im thankful you’re all back at work/school. you’re weekends off are my, everybody’s in my house all the time without 5 mins to have a piss let alone anything else.

the house can stay clean for more than two minutes.

I had breakfast without any body demanding what’s on my plate.

nobody’s arguing.

nobody’s asking for anything.

there isn’t incessant banging coming from upstairs.

and wait….wtfs that?…fucking hell I can hear myself think.

its been fantastic having you all home and spending time with you and all that crap but frankly I await Monday with baited breath.

im going to have a coffee ­čÖé


diet day 6

I would actually eat your face right now.

your whole face.

im a person who’s diet used to consist of 20 units of alcohol per day and then went to whatever I baked in the morning/afternoon, probably averaging 2000 calories a day (after giving up smoking/drinking) so to say im not used to limiting my intake is an understatement.

my morning cake for breakfast, is now a shake.

my lunchtime greasy pizza is now a shake

and my lamb and veg dinner, is now soup and possibly a bread roll depending on the calorie intake.

my body HATES me.

I found myself looking up the calorie content of ALL chocolate bars yesterday, because I like to be fucking depressed!

its not like im typically “fat” I weighed 137lbs at the beginning of this, six days later im down to 134 lbs.

ideally I want to get down to 115.

I used to stray around 100.

you know what I hate… lbs….im British. I like stone.

134 lbs, sounds like im a fucking ogre.

oh well, ill carry on because one day I WILL get into all the clothes I buy without looking like im about to give birth, or did so yesterday.

fuck you mummy tummy.

fuuuuuccccckkkkkk yyyoooooouuuuu!


or you know.

2 slim fast shakes,

and a bowel of soup.


im writing this while tucking into the most disgustingly grey mulchy looking bowl of dog slo I have ever seen. lease observe for yourself:


fecking horrid right?

this is day three of the shakes and soup diet, no snacks.

if your dieting, why the toss are you still eating the “allowed” 3 snacks a day.

they are allowed, NOT needed, don’t be a dick and eat 3 200 calorie snacks and then wonder why you’re arse is still fat.

just because your drinking the shakes like their some magical fucking cure for your laziness.

ill tell you why they “allow” you to have 3 snacks.

so it takes longer for you to loose weight and you’ll SPEND MORE money on their products!

anyway, im not enjoying my diet as you might have guessed, but until these last few dress sizes take the hint ill stock up on vomit in a can.

that’s no alcohol

no cigarettes

no sugar

no gluten

and now no food

im thinking of cutting out oxygen next, least I wont have to worry about my calorie intake.

If Theres Not Poo On The Walls..

I know im still asleep.


I HATE poo smearing!

now I know, son, that you are on a metaphorical island and I, alas am on another, I do my best to hike across that flimsy rope bridge day by day, but im just not sure I want to venture into an isle of which we paint with our shit.

even for your wonderfully autistic brain, I find it a push that poo painting would be considered a good idea.

so why do it?

does one not like the bathroom purple?

or was I meant to get that by the shit smeared hands and the jumping and shouting “the correct answer is iguana!” which, by the way I totally knew….all be it I have no idea what the question was.

I suppose to be fair to you, you are no different from half the “artists” I see today.

but I think your taking the:

~ Improve my tolerance of messy play

that’s on your ace plan to the extreme. I get it, you can stop now.

mummys autistic nose hates you :/

maybe if I got you some stencils you could actually make something, like, I dunno the bat signal.


I like it.



Daddy issues part 2

well done government….well done…
*round of applause*
you’ve just cocked up yet ANOTHER benefit giving.

when my father walked into your offices for his “review” a few weeks ago, you should have asked yourself these questions.

does he need the money?

is he able to work for the money?

is he disabled?

does he need mobility?

what is he spending the money on?

how did he end up in this situation?

if any of these questions were PROPERLY assessed, I wouldn’t be pulling pins out of my gritted teeth and maybe, just fucking maybe the rest of the country wouldn’t have to suffer benefit cuts when your giving them willie-cunting-nilly to people who clearly don’t deserve them.

I had champagne on ice for the day to come when Father called me to say his benefits had been stopped.


yes, yes I am.

im heartless because we struggles as a family for so long, as a mother of a disabled child, as a mother of a child whos father was killed in the midst of the war on gun crime. as a mother who survived a stillbirth and as a family who work every hour under the sun to provide everything our children could ever want, and yet there are people out there like the sperm donor my mother chose after one hundred too many brandy and cokes, who put THEMSELVES into the position of needing help..

wait, that was phrased wrong,

the man needs help

like mental help,

like a quick swift boot up the arse to the job centre help.

like help to spend the benefits he is given for being “disabled” on fucking child support to the woman who raised us our whole lives.

oh CC, hes disabled, show some heart you say..


hes not fucking disabled, he was an abusive alcoholic for the majority of his adult life, DRINKING has caused all of his problems they are all fucking self inflicted…

balance problems (from being a wanker)

sight problems (from being a wanker)

flatulence problems….on the off time I go out with him…in crowded areas…every 5 fucking minutes you disgusting drunk (from being a wanker)

memory loss (from being a wanker)

have I mentioned hes a wanker?



you dickheads have given him a car…

A CAR???
what the fuck for??

to get to that job ..he doesn’t fucking have???

genius…that was a real 3 oclock in the morning decision.

we pay, for my alcoholic deadbeat father to

play archery 5 times a week

but all the latest bows and arrows

eat out at his favourite restaurant EVERY Wednesday!!

not have to attempt to get a job.


im putting the champagne back in the cupboard.

call me when you start paying the lazy cunts pension..