Wednesday 27 June 2012

The Cancun Diaries - Day One


I'll be honest so much is probably gonna happen on this holiday that I'll need a blog entry for every day. I can't promise I'll keep up with that but I'll give it  a whirl like.


We landed in Mexico at about 3pm their time, 9pm our time. We were knackered and Susie's ankle had swollen up pretty badly on the plane. I don't think it could even be classed as a cankle as her whole leg was basically a massive thigh. It was a thankle, there's no two ways about it.


We briefly napped and then decided to face the jet lag head on and get right on it. Apparently tonight we were all gon to the beach party....on the beach. We got on the coach to the club (the coach which for some reason despite the clubs being a 5 minute walk away deffo took at least 40 minutes to get there) and were subjected to the worst American I had ever seen. Snapback clad (worn backwards obviously) and chatting up some birds from Birmingham by telling them he was Mexican. Listen mate, you're a whiter than white bellend from Texas, the closest you're gettin to bein Mexican is if your da licked a Mexican bird out in Tiajuana Spring Break '82. He was 20 and made up to be havin his first legal bevvy. Proper merry and doing his best shit English accent impressions. Fuckin fuck off, you're makin me snarl an wreck me make-up.


We got the beach party and my immediate reaction to all the idiots was "I'm gettin too old for this shit." but then I got a grip of meself and poured myself a stiff vodka. Yes poured MYSELF a vodka cos it's a bottle of vodka on the table out here - open bars everywhere. We looked fabulous as we'd had our curly blows done the day before and only just took the pincurls out. Yeh we looked fabulous for all of 5 minutes. As soon as my hair got introduced to the humidity it went flatter than a witches tit and seriously frizzy. Devastated doesn't even cover it. 


Despite the wool hair we were havin a boss time, the DJ screamed "All the alcoholics put your hands in the air!!!" and our hands couldn't BE higher, then he added "If your hands not in the air you're not gettin laid tonight!!" and we swiftly withdrew our hands and hid them. Eeeeee we've got fellas yano!


The tithead American walked past us and we made loud vomming noises at him, the poor bastard turned around and give us the thumbs up. We gave him the finger. No less than he deserved. He best stay outta me way the rest of the holiday or we may come to blows.


After some serious fistpumpin to the likes of "Hey I heard you got them scousebrows OOOOooooOOOO" and "I throw my hands up in the air sometimes singing aaaayyyyoooo I am lego!" I decided that seeing as this was a beach party we'd jump the little fence over to the beach and go for a swim in the sea. No sooner as I did this than the party police were all over me trying to take my entry wristband off. "Woah woah woah mate worra ya doin there ya cheeky Mexican??" He told me that now that I'd left the party I wasn't allowed back in and I'd have to walk all the way round to the front again. The front. Really? Walking round the front was like a good couple of miles walk cos it was back to back clubs and hotels and no way off the beach. I stormed away from him and tried to climb over the fence further down to get back in but I was stopped by another party policeman. OOOh the BAStards. As he beadily eyed me I casually strolled along beside the fence "Yeh sound mate, I'll just walk round I'll be there in a minute." Will I shite! I vaulted the fence before he could do anything and Susie grabbed my hand an we legged it back into the party to hide. FTM.


Eventually at aba 3am the tiredness caught up with us so we decided to walk back the hotel. We ended up bartering with a street pizza vendor to get a whole pizza for a dollar. Joke was on us though cos it was raw so we ended up givin it to a policeman in return for him puttin his lights on. Worth it.


We got back the hotel bar an had burgers an an nachos instead and ended up playin pool with some Geordies (who we only gave the time of day to cos they weren't wearing cleavage tops) and I discovered I'm a much more accurate pool player when I'm pissed. On the way back to the room we befriended a Glaswegian couple then ran to the lifts and made sure they shut before they could get in cos we're proper arlarses. 


Thinking it was a boss idea I got into bed and text me fella. I text me fella a load of shite. Incomprehensible. Why do we do this girls? 


I woke up fully clothed and drooling. Good night I reckon!


Inabit


@boobleyboo AKA @scousebirdprobs


xx

Scouse Birds Birthday night out


Unless you've been hiding under a rock, or haven't been following me, or just don't give a fuck you might be sware that it was the celebration of my day of birth this week. I was made up at turning 27 cos it's my lucky number. Much better than the devastation I felt at turning 26 (quarter life crisis) so I was looking forward to having a great time. Plus I look younger than I did at 26 thanks to the introduction of Botox to my fod. Long live freezy face juice.


Things didn't start so well. I woke up on Thursday morning chocka block full of cold thanks to my ginger housemate @susielovesvodka the slag. My birthday falls on the summer solstice so it's the longest day of the year, and fuck me, I was in work dying of cold and it fuckin felt like the longest day of the year. I ended up getting off early and chartering a plane home from Kirkby so I could nap. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and was only woken up by @maverick85p turning up at 6.20 when I was supposed to be ready to go out with me ma at 6.30. FML.
I got dressed dead quick, probably had the outfit co-ordination and hairstyle of a bad wool. If I owned a pair of kitten heels I probably eould've thought they were a great fashion choice being in the state that I was in. But I soldiered on, went out, scranned a pizza hut then went back to sleep.


The next day @maverick85p took me into town after work for the birthday shopping trip. I felt bad that I was going to be fucking off for 2 weeks to Cancun without him plus he'd made out to me mum like I was bleeding him dry the little arlarse so to prove a point I thought I'D take HIM for something to eat. I mean he was gonna be takin me to Matou for my birthday meal on Saturday like, fairs fair. He thought he was boss choosing Carraghers bar didn't he? He was in his element ordering ribs and cocktails and watching the footy, sorry THE FUCKING BASTARD FOOTY - even havin the cheek to suggest I tip them with my birthday money. Well cut to 2am and suddenly he's in ours projectile vomitting all over the show. Karma, or rather the ribs he'd scranned at Cafe Sports had come back to bite him in the arse for letting me pay for a meal in the middle of my birthday celebrastons hadn't they? As I went out the back to get him a bucket in case of further mishaps I stood barefoot on a bastard slug – Happy Birthday! (I thought remind me to go back outside and salt it and leave its carcass there as a warning to all other slugs) As I rubbed his back and told him everything was gonna be alright he declared that he's never letting me pay for anything again. Result.
The problem was the next day he was too sick to take me out to Matou....oh well you'll just have to pay for my acrylics instead won't you lad?


The Saturday night we went out to see our now good friends at Moniques. I'd sent them a list of demands including which booth we wanted to sit in, what music they were allowed to play, the fact we wanted fresh limes with our mixers instead of that cordial shite. Oh yeh I was in full on birthday diva mode. This birthday needed to buck up it's ideas cos it was goin down the pan fast. I got in the booth and noticed half the cast of Scousewives were over on the stage bit hangin out on their thrones. Joe-Ann one of the promoters and all round lovely woman came over and said they were dying to meet me can I come over?
"Ar ay Joe-Ann I've just got here can't I have a bevvy first?"
She came back like 30 seconds later sayin "They said get her over here raaaar now we wanna meet her!"
So I went and did my meet & greet (HA!), Gillian was gorgeous, Chris and Mark beautiful and fabulous and Jaiden was of course....still a wool. I saw Danny later on lookin like he's just stepped out, just stepped out of a salon with his fabulous hair. Holly Henderson turned up a bit later on and he let us have a go on the bongos - we killed the bongos.


After that I went back to hang out with the Scouse Bird entourage - @maverick85p did THAT dance which of course everyone was suitably impressed with and is still completely indescribable. The gay lad in the booth next to us was the most impressed of all - I found out the next day he'd been tryin to feel me fellas arse up and put his hands round his waist. Er if I'd know that there would've been handbags at dawn....I've lost too many men that way.


I had a great night all in all and was made up when Matt the DJ presented me with my CD he'd burnt of Greyhound. He didn't have it last time I was in and he'd been warned that I'd be spittin on his Louboutins if he made the same mistake again, Greyhound is a boss fist pumping anthem. Joe-Ann and Mark made my night amazing, can't thank you enough and I'll see you all soon.


Inabit (she types as she's in a plane over the Atlantic)


@boobleyboo AKA @scousebirdprobs


xxx

Tuesday 26 June 2012

Return to Cancun


So I'm sat here in the airport lounge (VIP obviously it's the only way to fly) waiting to board our flight to Cancun and got to reminiscing about previous adventures to the Mexico party capital.


Like for instance the time a couple of years ago when I was coming out of a club and I fell off my own foot. Not the kerb, not my heels (I was wearing flats....NOT KITTENS...flats), my actual foot. I sprained my ankle quite badly - to this day I'm not sure I may actually have broken it. Rather than go home, the copious amounts of tequila I'd consumed acted like an anesthetic and I partied on all night, dragging my leg behand me like Quasimodo. "The bells! The bells!"
I woke up the next day and actually couldn't move, like seriously couldn't get off the bed. I ended up swerving going the hospital cos after speaking to my insurance company while hungover it all sounded a bit complicated. I got the seedy lifeguard to strap it up for me while batting off indecent proposals from him and joined the other walking wounded proudly sporting disco medals and hobbling around on crutches. The bandage seriously fucked up my tan, I was fuming. 
On the plane home the air pressure cause my ankle to swell up so bad it actually got it's own roll of fat. I've never felt more attractive. Even now 3 years later I have a fat ankle that clicks. Boss.


Or there was the time we went on the Pirate cruise and ended up going partying downtown with the Mexicans. I mean their actual job description is Pirate of the Caribbean, how could we not? We ended up in some divey karaoke bar drinking 90p bottles of bud and singing the only songs they had in English - Simply the Best and Like a Virgin - while they tried to offer us weed. Nah mate I've got no wish to end up in Mexican jail.


The only problem with Cancun really is the swarms of dickhead Americans. One time we were goin out to the club on the hotel minibus and a gang of said American dickheads from New York were sat at the back. Five major "douchebags" from New York who were fuckin made up cos they were allowed to have a bevvy and their "mom" couldn't ground them. They were sat at the back goin "WOOOO!! YEAAAH!! WE'RE HAVIN SUCH A GOOD TIME YEAH!" - really? Who you tryna kid? Anyway they swilled me mate in the club cos they couldn't handle their ale an I nearly got into a proper scrap with them. I pushed one fella and floored him. "Woah! Who are you? I don't even know you? Back off!" ....."Listen you little prick you just swilled me mate, go and fuck off over there, then when you get there, fuck off a bit more. Ta."


Now as I mentioned we're sat in the VIP lounge - it's well worth it, £20 (or free with some bank accs) an it's free ale, scran and Wifi - obviously we've been sneakin mini cans of diet coke and copious amounts of vodka for the plane in our bag - handbag vodka is a way of life. I won't risk any scran cos last time I got stopped at mexican customs and searched cos I was trying to smuggle in cheese. Cheddar to be precise. Ooops.


Inabit


@boobleyboo AKA @scousebirdprobs


xxx




ps Them five Geordie lads playin the Baywatch theme (Soooo Zante 2007) on loudspeaker turn it in or you're gettin me free vodka an orange lashed in your grid.
Tuesday 19 June 2012

Pretty fly for a wool guy


Friday morning was like waking up in the 7th ring of hayfever hell. My eyes were glued together and itching like fuck. I just wanted to rip them out my head and give them a wash but seeing that I'm not Mr Potato Head that wasn't really an option so I just had to get on with it. Looking fit and scouse with raging hayfever is hard work - credit to all the scouse birds who manage it.


Anyway I got a half day off work to go shopping, Paddy was takin me to Gusto and out to meet a pilot and his Louboutin clad Mrs so I convinced him he needed to buy me a new dress or I'd look like a biff and refuse to go out. That old 'I've got nothing to wear' chestnut works every time, it's an oldy but a classic. Obviously a matching bag was also purchased. Rinsed.



I went home after my successful shopping venture and had to take a nap, hayfever takes it out of you like that and I'm a human Bagpuss at the best of times.  Me and Susie were goin out with Lazzy Mash to Pizza Express that night and I didn't wanna be slammin face first into my sloppy Giuseppe. Lazzy Mash has an endearing habit of sending us pictures where he tries to make himself look as unusual and ugly as possible, which ironically isn't possible as he is a beautiful man - so seeing as he was bein a big girl an takin ages to get ready we decided to tweet some of these pictures while we waited outside his in the car. He wasn't happy....here they are again for those who missed them. Cunt aren't I? We're trying to convince him to be gay as he would make a perfect gay bezzie but he was havin none of it. Some people are so selfish.


The next day after a catch up with the soundest doctor in the world Lee Walker (@btoxclinics) and discussion re the booming Botox business and the scouse bird phenomenon, me and Paddy went for a gorgeous meal at Gusto. We decided to go with whatever cocktail the waiter recommended - risky. We ended up goin with some weird Strawberry, basil and black pepper concoction, not the most obvious choice but daaaaamnnn bitch that was a shit hot cocktail! We got some funny looks from the people on the table next to us as I tried to give him a brief outline of what 50 shades of grey was all about. Paddy did the gentlemanly thing and decided to refuse to let me see the price of the bill cos he was treating me. Unfortunately the cocktails had gone straight through him and he was dyin for a slash so he lashed his card at me and went "You know the PIN." and ran off in the direction of the bogs. The waiter came over and I went, "Erm I'm not allowed to see the bill." He looked at me funny an went, "Love that's not really possible like you've gotta put the PIN in on the machine an it's right there." Fella returned sheepishly from the bogs an went "Oh yeah didn't think of that babe." Yeah right he well just wanted to show off how much he was spendin on me the weasel. I decided it wasn't nearly enough so we went The Living Room for cocktails to meet the pilot @AdeCorell & his wife @MrsCorell and so I could rinse him a bit more.


Me hair was a frizzy mess by the time I got there, thanks rain, that's sound! Luckily there was some bad states in there so I looked fairly decent in comparison. I'd never seen so much back cleavage and fat birds in cut out dresses. It's fuckin disgustin. Seriously if you're anything over a toned size 12 DON'T wear a cut out dress, you cannot pull it off. Your rolls look like they're bein squeezed out of a sausage grinder. Going out looking like the play-doh barber shop is not a good look. Get a tailored dress and some spanx. That's an order.


We managed to blag some staff dizzy off the pilot, watch this space for us jetsetting round Europe soon, and then headed off to Moniques to have a cheeky fist pump. Who should be there in our booth but that Jaiden one from scousewives. I was instantly on edge. This was the ultimate wool, the ultimate scouse arch enemy. The fella who reckons HIS is the most brutal blog in Britain. The fella I'd claimed to have shits more brutal than (and I'm a lady). Was it gonna be Toms vs Stilettos at dawn? He got all up in my grill about bein banned from Ruby Sky the other week cos I hated him and told the management he wasn't allowed in....I thought "What??! Wait! That does sound like something I'd do alright but the only thing I recall aba Ruby Sky was signing on all over the bogs." Turns out it was actually Scouse Barbie who'd pulled that stunt - G'wed girl, props on the diva behaviour! and we were sound after that. As long as he didn't open his mouth to poison my ears with his accent I found him to be pretty sound actually. I'll let him live.


I think the whole of Moniques was impressed by my fellas dancing....for me the jury is still out. He has this ONE dance he does and I couldn't even describe it to you, it's like nothing anyone has ever seen and I don't know where he learnt it. I don't know whether I love it or am deeply ashamed by it but it certainly gets him noticed. I'll give him credit he doesn't give a shiny shite who he's with, whether we're at a footballers wedding, out with Holly Henderson or out with a "Z-list" brutal blogger that dance is comin out to play big style and he's gonna be walkin round the next day like a cripple with damaged calves. We'll be out again in Moniques this weekend cos it's my birthday so if you see him doin 'THAT' dance, and trust me you'll know if you see it, then I'm the bird fist pumpin somewhere in the vicinity and trying not to look at him.


I was hangin on Sunday for fathers day and ended up makin me dad run round after me giving me lifts and even managed to talk him into makin a roast cos I'm such a boss daughter. I went into our kids room who's now been living in Florida for a week, took one look at his trilby hat (which I have NEVER seen him even wear) and thought "Awww" and started crying again. I told him this on Facebook to which his reply was, "I'm goin to tell you something....wait for it.....I'M NOT DEAD!!"  Ha ha fair point brother, fair point. I'm an emotional wreck on the sly, I will cry at the drop of or indeed the sight of a hat these days. Over and out.


Inabit


@boobleyboo AKA @scousebirdprobs

Wednesday 13 June 2012

Zumba Bint


For those of you who've read my Zumba blog you'll know all about the gimps in my Zumba class (for those who haven't here it is Zumba)


Well OH MY GOD I've just got back from Zumba and I just had to tell you about this new arrival - Zumba Bint.


She turns up, claims a stake at the front (which invariably the knobheads do) and then brings her fella in who sits and watches the whole class from the bench. Why girl? Why? There's a seating area and vending machines outside, why would you bring your fella to watch 100 women get sweaty and show up your shit dance moves, cos believe me they were shit. It's off putting.


There's only 3 reasons I can think of as to why she brought her fella to class.


1. She reckoned she'd be dead sexy like the bird from step up and turn him on. Well she looked like a fat auntie flailing round at a wedding after too many brandies. You failed love.


2. She's in an abusive relationship and she isn't allowed to go anywhere without him......in which case soz. See me for the Domestic Abuse helpline number.


3. She's been cheating on him and blaggin she's goin to Zumba when really she's round at her bit on the sides gettin goosed. She'll be all like "Oh yeh babe Zumbas boss, I'm gettin dead good yano!" and he's called her bluff. He called her bluff real good cos she was all over the show...I did check at one point whether she actually had eyes cos I really don't know who's dance moves she was copying off. The only explanation I can think of is that there was a wormhole in time and space and she was actually in a parallel universe attending an entirely different Zumba class than the one I was in.


Ah well....at least Fluffy Head had a day off.


In other news this week I was up at the crack of dawn Sunday to go see our kid off at the airport. He's decided to go work on the cruises round the Caribbean...not as a drag act or anythin, as a croupier. I woke up at 4.30 to 10+ texts off me fella askin why I was ignorin him and didn't I know how "mush i loveshoe babbbes" - he was still out the bastard. Anyway the inevitable happened me and me ma said goodbye to our kid at airport security, us crying uncontrollably, him laughing hysterically in our faces. He's not a wetbag, he's a MAN! I'll be seein him in a few weeks anyway seein as me and @susielovesvodka are on the official 2 weeks countdown to Cancun and one of his stops is just round the corner.....but still, love a good whinge.


Susie and I decided to get into the holiday spirit and went to Kasbah on Bold Street - ok ok it's Moroccan not Mexican food but we'd heard good things and they both begin with M so thought we'd give it a bash. It's one of those places where one minute you're in Liverpool and the next minute it's like you're sittin in a restaurant on holiday. I love the fact that everything you see in there you can buy as well like the lamps and tables etc, it's proper fit. I had to restrain Susie from buyin a Fez like. Imag. The food was proper gorgeous, I'd been lookin forward to the lamb tagine all day and for some bizzare reason ordered the chicken one like a total divvy - it was still fit tho. If use go deffo get some Moroccan tea, it's like a hot Mojito mmmm.


Anyway I'd been tasked to bring home pizza by a very hungover fella dying in bed....which I did. like a boss bird. Only to find he fucked off to another room to watch the Grand Prix an the footy as soon as I got there. *sighs* Euro widow. FML.


Inabit


Stay scouse and if you go to Zumba, don't be a gimp.


@boobleyboo AKA @scousebirdprobs


xxx


Saturday 9 June 2012

Gummy is the new toothy


I'm not scared of the dentist, never have been - but there was a period when I absolutely refused to go for 10 years which I believe probably contributed to me having a tooth extracted this week. 


My mum and dad were always pretty diligent makin sure I went the dentist every 6 months for a check up - might as well, it was free. No one can resist anythin if it's free like. One time I went the dentist I had toothache and he asked me which tooth was hurting. So I told him. I told him using the name of the tooth, yano that you learn in school when you're about 13 and the prick, the fuckin little prick went "Oooooo swallowed the dental textbook have we?" I wanted to chin him the patronising little turd. I can't have been more than 14 but I wanted to drill his eyeball out. Fucking fuck off ya dickhead. You look like a fat Ricky Gervais, yes a FAT version of Ricky Gervais. The dentists got swerved after that. Norassed if it's free. I'm not havin that tit pokin round in me gob. You might think I'm bein a bit harsh there but it was the latest in a long line of verbal atrocities and I'm noravin it.


So 10 years later I'm wondering what's goin down in tooth town and decided to register with my local dentist. Yeh I needed a big fat filling didn't i? Shit. The Polish dentist bitch drilled the fuck out of me nerves and deffo didn't use enough numbing stuff, it was agony. Two days later I went on holiday and I'm with my mate in a restaurant eating a piece of melon and half my tooth falls off. What?? It was only a piece of melon I mean come on! I'm hardly chowin down on gobstoppers here. It was proper arlarse. I went back and she did another filling. No apology - even had the cheek to charge me again. Whore. I switched dentists after that. Even 4 years later I still can't put anything hot or cold or chew properly on that side of my mouth.


My dentist now is proper sound he's not even the worst lookin fella in the world, he's got the whole geek chic thing goin on like. But I don't even look at him @maverick85p honest. I last went to see him on Valentines day - the only date I got that day - so I wasn't due to see him again for a couple of months. After a gust of wind blew into my mouth over the weekend and nearly brought me to my knees when it hit my filling tooth I knew something wasn't quite right and I needed to get in to see him pronto. 


He x-rayed me and confirmed I had an absess. He gave me two options - a ten minute straight forward extraction OR 3 x 45 min root canal sessions with a 40% success rate. I was like "Just rip it out like." I'm sure he's got good links to Columbia cos he numbed my face reeeeaal good. Even my nose and ears were numb. I didn't feel the tooth come out.


It's the healing process that's the most traumatic - the boredom of havin to live off soft foods. Soft foods are SHIT. Me fella gave me the choice of a 4 finger kit kat the other day or a fuckin shitty flyte bar - I had to go with the flyte bar cos the kit kat had bit of wafer which might go in the hole in my gum. I tell ya the panic that set in when I got a piece of scrambled egg stuck in the hole and couldn't get it out was unreal. It was like when you can't stick your eyelashes on straight and you just wanna cry.


All this I blame on the wanker dentist of my youth - I hope you're happy tithead!


I'll leave you all with a bit of advice that Ricky Gervais gave to a patient in a film where he played a dentist - "Only floss between the teeth you want to keep."


Inabit


@boobleyboo AKA @scousebirdprobs


xxx
Monday 4 June 2012

Walton Shore


Me and @susielovesvodka decided the shore house was in desperate need of a spring clean - spring bein over an all and it bein fuckin mingin. So like a pair of scrubbers we got the hoover an mop out an got to work, desperado in hand.  I hit a bit of a brick wall when I found a mazzy patch of black mould lurkin behind the bathroom bin, "Oh hello cheeky! When did you turn up?"
Now I'm not a mould expert but I'd heard black mould wasn't exactly the friendly penicillan kind so we googled the best course of action and found this: 


"When doing mold and black mold removal you should wear clothes that you are able to put in the trash immediately afterwards as some of the mold spores may stick to your clothes and harm your health. You also need to take special precautions such as wearing a face mask or respirator and protective glasses that do not allow the mold spores to get through. When removing mold or black mold from a particular room seal it off as best you can from the surrounding areas using plastic sheeting and duct tape."


I thought whoever wrote that must have been a fanny so I went with crackin a window and tying an arl dishcloth to my grid with a bobble. I'm telling you this cos if I die it might help with the post mortem.


Susie organised the kitchen cupboards an nearly pissed herself with excitement when she found an old packet of haribo lurking - a little less excited when we opened them and discovered they tasted like feet. Out of date haribo, not something I'd recommend.


Finally the house was sparkling so it was time to jump in the bath, slather myself in St Moriz, lash me sleep rollers in and go for a disco kip. Heaven. Even better when you wake up 2 hours later to a can of ice cold cidre bein proferred by a top ginger roomy. Nice one Susie girl.


I got ready without much incident. I say much, I feel fat in everything cos I've put on 5 relationship lbs. On the other hand my tits look boss so there's winners and losers in every situation. I eventually found a dress I was happy with and went to give evils to Susie in the hope that it would make her get ready faster.


I'd lent her my Strawberry Curls to try but disaster struck when she took them out. She looked like a ginger Ray Fakadakis. She cannot pull off the 70's/80's poodle perm AT ALL. Imagine bein on the final stages of gettin ready an havin to go wash your hair again. Talk about bein back at square one!


Much later than planned we managed to roll up to Ruby Sky for the Cancun Launch party picking up my mate Kerri on the way where we got slapped with VIP wristbands - just like in real Cancun and got a bottle of Smirnoff for the table - also just like real Cancun. The DJ had Pitbulls entire back catalog on his playlist. It was actually just like bein in Cancun except it was full of melts and the weather was shit. Now me and Susie are actually off to Cancun ourselves in a few weeks so in our head it was OUR Cancun launch party for the Walton Shore house, not Geordie Shore. Use can do one. We educated Kerri on how to do a slut drop and proceeded to get bevvied.


A couple of lads were dancing by us and were buyin their bevvies two at a time from the bar which me and Susie naturally took as an invite to minesweep them - dead discreetly duckin down under the table to swig them. I have no idea why when I'm pissed I reckon I'd be a boss undercover spy or somethin cos I'm aba as subtle as a drag queen at a jubilee party. The next round they went the bar and ended up buying an extra drink cos they knew we were goin to rob them, only to find that we took that as a signal to rob one each instead. Failed lads. Failed.

Anyway, we clocked Gaz an Holly from Geordie Shore and I was relieved to see that he wasn't sportin one of those god awful cleavage tops otherwise I don't think I'd've been able to resist the urge to gob all over him. I don't care who you are mate, tits are for birds, they don't have the same attraction for us as they do for you. Put them fuckin away lad. 


I was bladdered by 3am (feel ashamed of meself) and Susie ended up havin to escort me home, past her ex who was on the door lookin like a fat Shrek with a small cock as usual but at least she didn't go flyin in front of him this time. One point to Susie.


I woke up with Burger King wrappers strewn all over the bed an a sick bucket not too far away. I think that vodka must've been off yano. 


Inabit


@boobleyboo AKA @scousebirdprobs



xx
Sunday 3 June 2012

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something scouse.


Friday saw me attend a VIP relative of my fella's wedding - naturally I was shitting it. It was the first time meeting his extremely extended family plus I had to make sure I was looking fresh to death and scouse as. I considered gettin me hair and make up done at a salon as is the scouse bird way but I do actually have the skillz that killz when it comes to a smokey eye so armed with my trusty make up brush and mazzy bun ring I decided to take matters into my own hands. I mean who can I trust more than myself? The result was alright if I do say so myself.


@maverick85p was flappin around gettin his suit on repeatingly tellin us he was sweatin, whereas I was sittin back chillin with his ma an me bucks fizz. I am the calm Yin to his stressing out Yang. I'm just glad that if we ever get married I can palm the responsibilty of gettin him ready and to the church on time off on his best man. Swerve that!


The service was lovely even with the addition of an inappropriate vicar doin a speech about orgasms and fondling. Nice one vic. As the bride walked up the aisle and everyone craned to get a glimpse of the wagtastically large dress I clocked some birds mile high hair. Wow thats some big hair - now for me to comment on the size of a birds scouse quiff....at a scouse wedding, you get an idea of the height. Anyway on the way out of the church I turned round to see where @maverick85p was and I came face to face with mazzy hair girl. Well I actually did a little jump, she kind of took my breath away. The scouse brows were HUGE, I mean there was about 1mm stopping them from being a monobrow. Theres drag queens in Garlands who would've thought the smokey eyes were a bit OTT. There was aba 4 packs of hair extensions in, her neck muscles must be ripped from holdin her head up all day, and if you'd've combined the tans of everyone in the room we'd all still look pale next to her. Girl needs a lifetime achievement medal for an outstanding contribution to scouse.


I decided I needed a stiff vodka to recover from the shock so we all coached it down to the reception. I'd brought the handbag vodka and my clutch was burstin so as soon as I got there I stashed it behind the bin in the bogs for easy access and discreet storage. I needn't have bothered, it was a free bar. A free fuckin bar. For 200+ scousers, all night. That was deffo some 5 figure bill gettin handed to the groom later on. Devoed la. That coupled with the photo booth, the chocolate fountain, the BBQ, the 3 course meal, the magician, the casino and the mini vodka bottles as wedding favours meant it was a totally unforgettable day. Off the chart. My weddings gonna be fuckin shit in comparison. I mean I even had a good little whinge at the grooms speech - what more could a bird want from a weddin?


We fucked off to Moniques in town later on about 3 hours later than originally estimated but they still managed to get us a cheeky little booth. Joe Ann velvet roped the area off for us, I found this hilarious - I'm more of a "I'm bladdered gizza go on that swing there girl." kinda bird. We stayed dancin til they switched the lights on and then went home to quietly die.


Yesterday @maverick85p got to stay in bed with McDonalds gettin delivered to him the little tit whereas I was forced to get dressed an go drinkin with me arl fella and our kid. Our kids leavin for 6 months to go deal blackjack on the cruises. Worrisit aba arl fellas an arl mans pubs. I got dragged round the Beehive, the White Star, the Grapes, the Lady of Mann. Each was more divey than the last and your ale choices were limited to, beer, strongbow or shit wine. WTF wheres the Jacques? I'm feelin delicate here dad!


Me an @susielovesvodka got off after a few shit bevvies and decided to go to ASK for a scran. Fuckin hell. Worran ordeal! I had to ask to order, ask to have my plates cleared away, ask for a desert menu, ask for a desert menu AGAIN, ask to order a dessert then I had to send @susielovesvodka the bog so she could ask the manager to come over so I could kick off. I mean I know the restaurant is called ASK love but I'm not in to this playin hard to get dining experience. Anyway she knocked 50% off the bill an give us free wine so it wasn't all bad - I kept gettin dirty looks off our bog-eyed waiter as well so she must've kicked his arse. Good. I'm hungover an I wanted scran in my belly FAST! Toying with my emotions.


Got off after that an slept. Ready to go meet the cast of Geordie Shore in Ruby Sky tonight. This may result in a double blog weekend. OOOOO.


Inabit


@boobleyboo AKA @scousebirdprobs


xxx