Oh my god what a year this has been, seriously though. I feel like I’ve had a life transplant. Me on New Years day 2012 couldn’t be more different than now. Me and my mate Susie were sat on the couch stuffin our faces with the contents of the corner shop and catching up on Jersey Shore after a proper borin NYE night where town was dead and the only choices to neck at midnight were some questionable Polish fellas or each other. We entered the New Year neck-less. Sly. Then everything started to change...
January - I started a new job and set about with vigour to adopt  a mysterious new girl persona in the hope of actually gettin a decent fella. By this time ‘knobhead’ (see quarter life crisis blog) was a distant memory and I felt like the coolest kid in class cos I’d met JesusChristFTM on boxin night and was using this to leverage mysterious cool girl points with me new colleagues. “Are you on twitter?” 
“Yeh”
“Dya follow JesusChristFTM?”
“Yeh he follows me.”
“Eee an wa? I met him. Shove it.” Cringe the Merciless there.
I had my first Scouse Bird Problem when I was late for work one mornin an drew me scouse brows on wonky. I started tweeting them every so often from my personal account. @boobleyboo
Then there was Jesus’ birthday party at Bar Red where Ant Chandler buzzed me off when I ask for Levels. Sly. I generally fumed at the world, got a cob on, unfollowed Jesus, text the next day to apologise and re-follow and generally was forced to asses my life. I am not cool. I am a crank. I’d also gotten in an fell akip on the couch after shovin a pizza in the oven and had the house smelling of Eau de Charred Ham & Mushroom for aba a week. Me and 2012 got off on the wrong foot. Totally. 
February - The mysterious new girl persona was not working and I spent Valentines Day gettin a filling at the dentist and bloggin about all the shit dates I’d been on (see 50 first dates blog). However things picked up, towards the end of Feb I met me fella. One of the lads I was speaking to in work asked me to follow him on twitter and so I thought I’d see if any of his followers also worked there so I could make friends and stop sittin on the loser table by meself in work. Yeh I’m that girl. So I spotted @maverick85p and he followed me back. A few days later after noticin him givin me the glad eye a few times I was in a conversation with the fella sittin next to him. He’d been givin me lip so I asked his name, “Er..er... me name’s Paddy.” at which point Paddy had turned round and I replied “No it’s not, THATS Paddy.” He then went completely white and then red....no not red, like a dark purple and went “How do you know??”
“You follow me on twitter”
“No I don’t”
“You do. I just don’t have my name or picture up.” See even before Scouse Bird Problems I was a secretive bitch.
I DM’d him a little while later to put him out of his misery. Apparently a few days earlier he’d seen me walk past and said “Who the fuck is that?” and he’d been told “you’ve got no chance with her lad.” Hahaha awww.
March - Went out for a day of cherry beer drinking and met the delightful, one off @LazzyMash who’s become a great friend. Tried (emphasis on tried) to do cartwheels in Chavasse park, bevvied, and I’ve never failed so hard at something in my entire life. Swear down I was like a disabled panda.
April - The birth of Scouse Bird Problems. I’d just gotten out the bath after a Zumba class and Susie shoved her phone in me face “Av you seen this? Is this you?” Some absolute whoreface had only gone and ripped off my #ScouseBirdProblems hashtag from my personal account and set up a whole account. I was fumin to say the least. I stormed round the house for about 15 mins just slamming things and goin “IS SHE MESSIN??? IS SHE MESSIN THO? AM FERRRYUMIN! IS SHE MESSIN?”
After a midday vodka and a nail appointment I set up my own account and it was Scouse Bird Wars. Obv I triumphed. Birds need to get their own shouts. Coughs “barbie” coughs. Ah well you can’t be a Scouse Bird proper unless you’ve got beef with half the other girls in the city. Reached 10,000 followers in the first week and had my mind blown.
June - Went to Mexico with my best bitch Susie and had a ball throwin limes at Americans. Soz like but I proper hate Americans, cheesy obnoxious bastards. (See return to cancun, the cancun diaries day one, and what happens in cancun goes in a blog). Hit 30,000 followers.
July - Got asked to do a Q&A feature for Open magazine. (See press section of www.scousebirdproblems.com ) and met the editor of Heat magazine at the launch party who said she was really impressed with my writing and convinced them to keep me as a regular feature writer. Nice one Lucy girl.
August - Took me fella for his birthday to the Signature Living Apts in town. If you haven’t stayed in them, GO they are AMAZING. Sittin off livin the WAG LYF for one night only.
September - Moved in with me fella and he helped me learn how to pick dirty undies off the floor which is something I hadn’t done before. Ta babe. Love all tha.
October - Went on holiday to Egypt and ended up with food poisoning from the salad. The fuckin salad. Should’ve stuck to the cake. Got me mate to be a stand in Scouse Bird for 2 weeks....did you even notice I was gone??
November - Only landed my ass in the Echo didn’t i? Me Ma an Da were proper chezzed by this. then the editor asked if he could feature one of my tweets a day in the paper. Oh alllllright then I suppose! Got invited to the Liverpool Music Awards which was amazing. I also managed to nag me fella into submission to let me get not one, but 2 kittens which he says he hates but he well loves them really. Probably. Hit 50,000 followers. (OMG)
December - Now I’m fully aware I’ve had you all on a blog diet, my bad. Truth be told my laptop is a pile of shite which takes aba 20 mins just to power on, so every time I’ve even had the slightest inclination to blog I’ve just looked at it and died inside. I took the plunge and bought a new one the other day so the the weeerld is me oyster now. Let me sum up the Xmas party season.
I actually had 2 work do’s (greedy I know but I gegged in on another departments one). the first was at Aintree and mid way through the night I happened to check me twitter and found out Chris Maloney had FUCKIN FINALLY been booted off the x factor. I was genuinely made up and went round spreadin the good cheer like doin the peace handshake at church. Whisperin ‘Peace be with you, Chris Maloney’s gone’ to every fucker within a 10 foot radius of me. The news was met with universal “Thank fuck for that YEESSSSS” from all.
The next week was just a do round down and I went from doin karaoke in the Croc one minute to sittin off in a booth in Mosquito with grey goose (bein a grey goose wanker) the next. I can’t stay classy for too long though, I was starvin an started casin the barmen to bring me down a pizza from the Living Rooms upstairs. I was basically told to fuck off. NORAVVIN THAT. 
“Ay lets go for a walk” I grabbed me manager.
I was wearing a festive poncho (once you hit 25, town without a coat of some description in the winter is just not an option)
We ran down the road to the burger shop on the corner of Victoria St and I promptly purchased 2 burgers, stuck one under each arm, wrapped me poncho round me and then scurried back to mosquito. The poncho was key in this smuggling mission as i was able to hide the burgers under my arms but have it wrapped round me and still have both hands free and visible to the bouncers. Nonetheless I was still sweatin like I was goin through airport security with beak up me bum. “Just keep smilin, act natural girl. You an your dirty scran will be reunited on the other side” I told meself.
We hid in our corner booth away from pryin eyes scrannin as fast as our mouths could handle. The manager came over and told us we weren’t allowed to eat in here and I was noddin goin “Yes yes i understand,” while one hand was behind me back tryin to push the burger boxes to the lads in the next booth along. Let them take the fall. Victims.
After I started to try and do the crab (which basically involved me just lyin in the middle of the dancefloor) and burned my finger on a melted straw which had fell in a candle, I knew it was time to get off. I ended up leavin cryin to Sam Woolley (of scousewives fame) that I’d melted me fingerprint off. Soz aba me.
The next week I met up with Old Scouse Bird Scouse Ma & a few friends for a night out. We had a great night, again at Mojito & Mosquito, probably the best night out all year. We got home and Paddy accidentally locked one of the kittens in the bathroom all night and I only let her out the next mornin when I heard her cryin. The next day we were sat on the couch and she normally comes and sits on me only this time she came and sat on Paddy’s chest and proceeded to piss all over him. Kitten 1 - Paddy nil.
Had a great night on boxin night at Moniques. Saw JesusChristFTM & Ponder and had a chin wag about what a completely mad mad year its been.
We chose to spend NYE in Pan Am, just me and me fella, Lizzy & Lazzy. It was a great night only marred by goin the double toilets in Pan Am with Lizzy an realisin it actually is fuckin weird goin the toilet with ur mate and actually pissin together. I’m all for crammin 80 girls in the one toilet cubicle while you all take turns to piss but there was somethin about goin for a piss side by side which was horrendous. We were both screamin “DON’T LOOK AT ME” while furiously pissin as fast as we could. Never again, from now on the double toilets is a one for me, one for me bag situation. Cos even our bags are prinnys an need their own throne to sit on innit.
Well that’s it, my 2012, i’ve loved it and thanks for all your lovely comments throughout the year. I do enjoy readin that I’ve made someone laugh, it’s an amazing feeling and I’ll carry on for as long as i can. 2013 is gonna be a boss year cos life is what you make it, an I’m gonna make it boss. Got a secret project I’m working on with Old Scouse Bird and if it comes off....well it could be life changing. Dead dead excited. Watch this space. See you in all in a club toilets in town soon handin out handbag vodka. Stay scouse everyone.
Love 
Scouse Bird
xx