This was a big weekend. The one weekend where we celebrate ginger heritage and general drunkard-ness everywhere. That's right, swerve Paddy's day it's @susielovesvodka's birthday.
The weekend started as it should do, with a vodka and orange in the the bath after a swift Zumba workout. It's never too early for vodka and orange, it's more of a breakfast beverage than vodka diet coke. Top alcy tip that.


Susie rolled out of bed at the grand old age of 27, arthritis in her joints and overnight wrinkles appearing and we decided spur of the moment to go get pampered. This was a traumatic experience trying to find a hairdressing appointment at such short notice on a Saturday, let alone on St Susie Day but luckily, twitter is powerful and the ladies at @HairSerenity came to the rescue. I was in a right state, my extensions were hangin looser than Denise Welch in a hot tub and they were knockin me sick (scouse bird problems) plus I wanted to give this new dip dying thing a cheeky go. Cue an afternoon of sittin off talkin aba mazzy and not so mazzy lashes (yes lads, photos WERE passed around. You show pics of birds tits to your mates so don't for one second think that we don't do the same) and drinking desperadoes - could this be the scousest hairdressers in Liverpool? I reckon so. It was touch an go for a while whether I'd come out sporting a Bettie Page fringe or not but something told me it would be a disastrous gym look. Susie took the plunge though and decided to take a swim in lake fringe. Hot gym instructor later told her that it looks like she's wearing a helmet...smart move boobleyboo, smart move.






Last night I was on a mission. A pulling mission. I myself am not on the pulling graft at the moment, I'm currently seeing someone, unfortunately Susie is not in the same boat. After a recent disappointing encounter with Mr Freddo Grass which I've been forbidden to go into, we were looking for a new man for the birthday girl. I put on my best pulling jacket (I call it my pulling jacket cos it's covered in looped tassels and will literally hook on to men) and we were ready to go flat out with our rat out. Classy. 


At the bar in the revo ordering my usual round, 2 diet cokes (I'm pacing myself) and 2 tequilas (NOT - i've just got handbag vodka you fools) a walking combover in a slim fit cardi sidled up and tried to get served first. This was a capital punishment, trying to get in between me and ale is a bad move. He had to pay the price. The price was another 2 shots of tequila, ta very much Mr Combover! He seemed to take this as some kind of come on, but he doesn't know me.


 "So what's your facebook?"


"Jog on, I don't have facebook."


"You're lying, let me add you on facebook."


At this point Susie chipped in wondering what was going on. So I told her aba the melt asking me for my Facebook details.


"AaAAAYYYYYY we don't have Facebook!!" she confirmed.


"See? Now fuck off." This fuck off was accompanied by a head tilt and a thumb point in the direction I thought he should fuck off to. We swanned off, diet cokes in hand an proceeded to Zumba, fist pump and Jersey Turnpike all over the revo. 


That was when I spotted my prey. A man with a tattoo sleeve. Now I had to approach the situation carefully as Susie had just given his mate a tear-jerker of a wedgie for no reason at all other than she felt like it. I had to be subtle and play it cool...."Ay mate! Have you got a mazzy lash or wot?"


He looked stunned but fair play to him, he was game. I managed to get the indie boy with the tattoo sleeves in the Ramones t-shirt to describe length and girth to me. "Right ok, you'll do, neck her!" I said pointing to Susie. Game on. I've become worried recently that her virginity is growing back plus I wanted to spread top goosing and goodwill to all men so I took matters into my own hands and decided he was comin home with us. Not for a threesome, I don't play that way, but like Jeremiah and cos I'm a boss wingman I was gettin my bezzie some birthday sex. Plus I knew there was a giant costco pizza at home and I didn't want to share. Ramone was the perfect distraction. Ulterior motives.






So after a drunken 2am phonecall to the fella, never a good idea but always gotta be done, I lashed the pizza in the oven and lay on the couch to rest my eyes. This was a disastrous move, I did the same thing after Big Jee's Birthday night out and woke up 4 hrs later to a piece of charcoal and a house that stunk for days. Susie was on the ball though and even though she was busy showing Ramone her coin collection she came down to check on me and made sure I didn't burn the house down. Top mate.






I woke up this morning to find that Ramone hadn't been lashed in a Delta yet. I was fumin. If he reckoned he was gettin breakfast I was gonna be an arlarse and serve him watery porridge without sugar even - the bacon and eggs is only reserved for us and for fella material. Turns out Ramone was sound though. I went and lay in bed with them, again not a threesome situation, more laid across their legs like a trusty dog. A trusty cockblocking dog. We schooled him up on the scouse twitter scene and made him listen to The 53's. We're always on the fan graft for The 53's. Him and his mates also seem to be the only scousers on twitter who hadn't heard of JesusChristFTM, TinheadFTM & Ponder The Point....it was weird, like some sort of soundness vacuum. This conversation broke my vodka induced dream about Ponder the Point havin the mange. Like the mange someone used to say you had in school and you'd fume an go "I Havent!!!" Well everyone should now point at Ponder an go "eeee you've got the mange!" 


After breaking into song at every available opportunity and doing a Zumba toning track with 2 Smirnoff bottles in my PJ's, Ramone has decided that a) I'm alot like Jess from new girl and b) he loves us. So much so he's decided to be a permenant walking #FF for us. Nice one Ramone.






Who's that girl? Who's that girl? It's @Boobleyboo!


Inabit


@boobleyboo


xxx

This is beginning to become a bit of a habit but once again this weekend I haven't inflicted my own brand of vodka fuelled terror onto the unsuspecting clubbers of Liverpool. What's happening to Boobleyboo? I know you're thinking it. Well don't worry I haven't gone boring, I just had better things to do this weekend. Like show off my coin collection. I even went to the trouble of having the beautician come round to help me polish and tidy the collection on Friday night, I wasn't being caught unprepared like last time. Ouch....tidying a coin collection is eye-watering.


I had to break the news to hot gym instructor that from now on I'll be showing my coin collection to someone else. I felt proper arlarse on him when he broke down in tears, he was clearly upset that I'd decided to move on. I'm sure they weren't tears of relief.


Also since @susielovesvodka recently moved in, I'd decided to sign up to a Costco membership and add her on as my lesbian life partner (we're REALLY not lezzas - swear down) and Saturday was the day we'd designated to go on a bulk buying adventure. Out intentions were pure, we picked up a 1kg punnet of strawberries on the way in and managed to swerve the giant muffins and tiramisu. Well done Boobleyboo. But then things took a turn for the worst when we hit the alcohol aisle and my eye was caught by a 1.75l bottle of vodka. Me and @susielovesvodka were excited like a gypsy bird at Southport fair hearing someone talk aba the 'grabber'. We started pushing each other up an down the aisles on the trolley and I laughed so hard a little bit of wee came out. Somehow we ended up at the till with a crate of Smirnoff (Grey Goose equivalent for Glenns birds like us), 2 giant jars of mayo and a box of 100 freddos. This was scouse bulk buying at its finest.


Anyway, I thought I'd take this lull in drinking activity to share with you a hobby of mine. Taking covert pictures of people who look slightly like celebrities. This has been a hobby of mine for the past few years and it's loads of fun. The rules are the pictures either have to be covert, or, if posed, the person cannot know the reason why they are posing. Get involved and follow my account @CovertCeleb and I'll retweet any belters. This is the standard you're aiming for:

Last night I was supposed to be going to see The 53's, something which I'd been looking forward to for AGES, like a 5 yr old kid waiting to go see four talented scouse santas but fate had other ideas. Not only was I in a foul mood because someone had been in my wardrobe while I was out, stolen all my decent clothes and replaced them with a collection of shit clobber, but also while getting ready I was hit by wave upon wave of nausea. I was grounded. Bedridden for the night while @susielovesvodka & @staceylouise109 went out reppin. Foul mood from last night spilled over into today, exacerbated by them two, still bladdered and breath stinkin like a badgers fart started screeching round the house from 10am onwards. Fuck off.
So I thought tonight, angry and in on my own again would be a perfect time to vent about all the things that piss me off in the world. Here goes. Blog therapy.


1. Men in cleavage tops.


Jesus. This really grinds my gears. I can't think of ANYTHING more repulsive to me that a man with his cleavage out. Give a shit how big your pecs are. Put them away, otherwise you'll never  pull a bird and the only tits you'll be jizzing over are your own, as you wank off in the mirror. One night out in town I saw this guy with a Cleavage top + hairy chest and I actually screamed. At the top of my lungs. It was scarring.


I'm sorry I can't even cope with Chuck Bass doing it. No Chuck....Nooooo! Men should only be allowed to wear the standard Gun Display Cabinet t-shirt. Much more attractive.




2. Lesbian Hair.


To me this can loosely be defined as anything shorter than a bob. I just don't understand why you'd want to make yourself look as unfeminine as possible. Unless you are a lesbian, then go ahead - maybe havin a number 2 down one side of your head could be like some sort of signal. Saves all the confusion when the gaydar goes west. 
One time I went to Sassoon studio in town FOR A TRIM. I'd just taken my extensions out after I felt my hair had grown to a sufficient length and the ends were looking a bit rat-taily. Some incredibly camp irish guy (trying to recruit me I reckon...and why are they always irish??) got all scissor happy and an hour later I'm walking out with chin length lesbian hair. There were razors involved. I was practically suicidal. £600 and some russian 18" extensions later I was back to my old self. Most expensive haircut ever.


3. The awkward moment.


Who fuckin started this shit? It's been knockin about for aba a year or so now and it doesn't make me fume any less. 99% of the time the awkward moment being described isn't even awkward. Eyar let me just search for a couple of examples right now:


"The awkward moment when you play Black Ops and get so far you hear eminem rap"


"The awkward moment when you're facetiming and you wonder why it's not coming on and then you realise Wifi isn't on"


"The awkward moment when you're wearing a watch but you check the time on your phone"


What the fuck?????? None of those things are awkward. In fact, it's a bit awkward that you think they are. Fuckin emos. Piss off out my life and off twitter.


4. Use of the word random.


Main perpetrators are same as the ones who do the awkward moment shouts. Wools and emos mainly. I cringe at people using the word random, especially because random is almost certainly not the word they're looking for. Typically they actually mean one of 4 things.

• "O M G we just packed up and went on like a random road trip." - see the word you were looking for there fuckwit was spontaneous. You went on a spontaneous roadtrip. Say it with me now.
• "Take a look at my totally cool photo album on facebook of all random nights out" - no love you haven't plucked these photos out of a collection by pointing with your eyes shut. It's a miscellaneous collection of photos from different nights out. MISCELLANEOUS.
• "Oh I was just talking about this guy who looks like Justin Bieber and I'm sooo in love with him but he like doesn't even know I exist and then I bumped into him at the mall *cough* I mean Liverpool One. It was sooo random" Close but no cigar. It was a co-incidence.
• "That girl in class wears nerd glasses and odd socks and has OJ on her breakfast cereal, she's so random." Nah she's a fuckin freak yano. Go with unusual next time.

By the way, if I read the word random in a tweet I will automatically read it in an American accent, if you didn't get that already. I blame the yanks for emos.


5. IZA


Bit of a personal vendetta for me and anyone who's worked in a bank will probably relate but I can't stand people who pronounce ISA as IZA. Where the fuck are you finding this Z from? Over 60's I'm looking at you here. My hatred got so bad that I used to be a proper cunt about it and correct them everytime they said it. 


"I'd like to make a withdrawal from my IZA?"


"Oh your ISA?"


"Yes that, what are the rates on your IZA'S by the way?"


"Here's a leaflet on our ISA rates"


This would go on until they left me alone. Schooled in ISA pronunciation.


6. Kids


Kids in general piss me off. They're always just....there. Being annoying, getting in my way. Sometimes I just want to fashion a giant bowling ball and knock them all down. STRRRRRIIKKKE!! But I reckon I'd get disapproving looks and there's those pesky laws an that. What pisses me off the most though and one of the reasons I took the leap over to twitter was pictures of kids on facebook. Now there's been pictures of kids on my facebook for years, there's always them slaggy ones from school who start poppin them out as soon as they get their first pack of Bodyform (WWOOOOOOOOAAAAHHH BODYFORM BODYFORM FOR YOOOOOOUUU - yeh you try saying bodyform without thinking of that advert) but recently I've got to that age where everyone I know is poppin out sprogs like a Japanese ping pong ball artiste. 


Dear everyone ever, 


No one and I mean NO ONE, and definitely not me, is interested in pictures of your kids apart from you and paedophiles. So unless you're just dying to get a like on your photo off Gary Glitter or the local flasher, PACK IT IN. Ta


Boobleyboo


That'll do for now. I feel loads better. I'm sure this subject will be revisited at some point as quite alot of things piss me off really, but this blog therapy session is over.


Inabit


Boobleyboo 


xxx