I remember years ago
Someone told me I should take
Caution when it comes to tan
I did

And you are streaky, I am not
Your delusion, your mistake
You were careless, you forgot
To pat

And now get your exfoliation on
Make the shit stain tan go away
You’ll be fit
You can go ahead tell them

Tell them all you know now
Shout it from the bed shops
Write it on your timeline
All your skin will go brown

Tell them that you’ll pat it
And that you’ll use gloves now
Your fella’ll do your back now
Tell them that you hope tannings not
Impossible, impossible
Impossible, impossible

Tanning perfectly is hard
Having skin that’s pale is worst
Orange feet and orange palms
I know, I know ..
Thinking all you need is bleach
Gaggin hard on smell what’s worse?
Lemon juice to de-stink works
I know, I know ..

And now when 9hrs developings done
You can shower it all away
On your own you can go ahead tell them

Tell them that you’re tanned now
And you swerve the bed shops
Write it on your timeline
All your skin has gone brown

Tell them that you’re happy
And your skin is golden
For you no more mopin
Tell them that you know tannings not
Impossible, impossible
Impossible, impossible
Impossible, impossible!
Ooh impossible

I remember years ago
Someone told me I should take
Caution when it comes to tan
I did

My agony aunt column for open magazine - www.openthecity.co.uk

Winter edition coming soon.


We know it’s hard work being a scouse bird what with your fella getting grips of tramps behind your back and having to stink of biscuits all the time just to achieve the perfect tan – so we have enlisted our very own agony aunt, @ScouseBirdProbs, to offer you some words of wisdom. Caution: She will tell you straight!


Want That Old Thing Back?


Dear Scousebird Problems,

I got out of a long-term relationship earlier this year — I was completely in love with my fella, but he cheated on me repeatedly, and our breakup was long and ugly.

I had a couple of rebounds and got over it, but it took a while. Recently, I’ve been seeing this other lad, and he’s everything my ex isn’t. The problem is, I don’t feel as strongly for him as I did for my ex.

My ex recently contacted me, and he wants to get back together. It’s been almost a year since we broke up, and in that time, I feel like he’s grown a lot — shall I stick with the safer option or get back with my ex?

- An Ex and a hard place, aged 23


Girl are you high? If you’re enough of a divvy to go back to him then really you deserve all the heartache that’s comin to ya. Do us all a mazzy favour first though and delete any and all social network accounts. No one, least of all me is gonna wanna see the on/off borderline schizophrenic nature of your upcoming relationship. “OMG I love him so much, he’s my one.” Next day “OMG I FUCKIN HATE YOU YOU BAD PIG I CAN’T BELIEVE I EVER WENT BACK TO YOU” Next day, “Cuddled up on the couch with my one watching X factor. <3 <3” Gerra grip girl, seriously. My advice is, ditch them both, go buy the highest pair of platforms St Johns market has to offer and go swing round the poles in Pink with all the queens. You’re not allowed near a straight fella til you’ve developed some self esteem. Scouse Bird orders.


What Tattoo Should I Get Next?


Dear Scousebird Problems,

I currently have 4 tattoos & I’m looking at getting a couple more but I’m stuck for ideas. I’m not one of these people who gets them as it’s the current thing to do, each of mine has a personal, symbolic meaning to me and as such that is the reason it has taken me 6 years to get only 4. I was just wondering if you have any suggestions as to what I should get and where I should get them?

- Tattooed and horny, aged 24


This all depends on what you want out of life. For example, have you got a fella you’re desperately trying to swerve? If so may I suggest getting a tattoo of his name? It’s a statistical certainty that youse’ll split up within the week. The only problem is you’re left with a permanent reminder of that fuckin weapon for the rest of your life. As punishment you’ll have to cover it up with something wool like a dolphin jumping through a tribal symbol. As a side note, you pointed out to me that you are horny…this concerns me. I want to be clear, scouse bird doesn’t swing that way soz girl. Maybe a better tattoo would be a full tribal sleeve? You can then couple this with a semi buzz cut and start hangin out in the Lesbon, sorry Lisbon. I think you’ll like it there.


What’s His Game?


Dear Scousebird Problems,

I’m starting to suspect that my boyfriend might be cheating on me, he’s gone all weird on me lately and started acting like a proper arse hole. He literally jumps out of his skin if I touch his phone, he is going out every weekend for a ‘quiet one’ and lying about what time he gets in. He lives with his mum still so I don’t see what time he actually gets in.

What can I do to find out if he’s cheating?

- Suspicious mind, aged 21


Oh no girl, he’s probably just planning a surprise birthday party or proposal yano. HAHAHAHA! Sorry I couldn’t keep a straight face there. Have you seen “He’s just not that into you”? Right, ok well it’s basically putting it out there that all men are the friggin same but occasionally there’s an exception to the rule and you’re kidding yourself if you think you’re lucky enough to get that exception. He may be planning a surprise party or proposal but it’s unlikely. I’d go all FBI on his sorry ass. Buy the same phone as him and accidentally swap them then run away and lock yourself in the bog. Buy a wig and follow him out at the weekend. This behaviour isn’t at all cranky, it’s legit. Nah but seriously, girls have a spidey sense aba these things an if it’s bleepin, he’s cheatin. Go and get a fella who’s at least 3 out of 10 below you an he’ll be grateful to have you. Just use one of those Primark bags for his head when you’ve gotta do the dirty. It’ll be sound.

I’m probably already preaching to the converted here, if you’re reading this there’s a big chance you already use Twitter. But seriously what is up with Facebook lately and the fuckin creatures that inhabit it? I gave up on Facebook aba a year ago. I go on it occasionally like but I try to avoid it as a rule cos I know every time I go on it I’ll be lookin at people’s statuses and going “SHUT THE FUCK UP” over and over again – then despairin at the cretins I call me mates. Every time I go on I end up deleting at least one person, pretty soon I’m gonna have no one left. Don’t know the type of thing I’m on about? Let me break this down for ya.

Facebook ming type 1 – The person with kids.

These I think are my absolute WEEERRSST pet hate. These pushed me over the edge to join twitter. Listen right, I’m norassed aba your kid. No one else is arsed aba your kid. No one thinks it’s cute when you upload 324 pics of your womb spawn watchin telly with nutella all over their grid. Their Halloween outfit of a bin bag an a witches hat isn’t a) funny, b) cute, c) scary d) original, it is in fact e) offensive to my eyes. Even other people with kids don’t give a shiny shite aba your kids. Everyone has an element of self obsession and vanity and they just wanna go “OOOhh look what I did with me genes, isn’t it the most beautiful thing in the world?” Well actually no, it isn’t, and for the most part if I’m honest your kid is ugly and everyone’s onto it. Stop uploading pictures where your child looks borderline disabled cos it’s sly ok? Plus I have no interest in seeing it . The only people who MAY be interested in seeing it are you (so keep it to yourself) and paedos. So baby think twice before you lash your baby on my newsfeed.

Facebook ming type 2 – The person who loves food

These fall into kind of the same bargain bin as the person with kids. Ok I love food, everyone loves food, apart from maybe Victoria Beckham. However I KNOW what a chippy looks like, I know what a pizza looks like, I really don’t need a picture of it. Oh and dieters, you know that mmmm delicious plate of veg and cous cous you just made? It looks like something my cat just vomited up. You’re fooling no one. Just eat your gruel and go and compensate binge on 3 bars of chocolate and a family size bag of Walkers Sensations quietly will ya?

Facebook ming type 3 – The person who’s just had their nails done

Right ok, I love getting me nails done. I love staring at them for hours. They are fit after all. What I don’t need to see is pictures of your chunky disgusting nails with nail beds as wide as Sandra’s waistband in slimming class who’s been goin for ten years and is still the size of a house. They look like they belong to a giant witch. And they’re tacky. Pack it in.

Facebook ming type 4 – The do gooder

I say do gooder. They don’t do any good at all. They’re guillible and stupid and are easily emotional blackmailed by strangers wanting ‘likes’ for their own vanity. You know who I’m talking about…the sick kid/dead dog/brave soldier picture liker. There’s a picture usually of something horrific like a terminally ill child accompanied by a caption “1 like = 1 prayer” or “like if you care, ignore if you’re a heartless bastard who doesn’t give a crap”. 1. I’m not even getting into the whole prayer thing, let’s just say I’m an atheist and the more intelligent you are the more likely you are to be an atheist. 2. A like doesn’t mean anything! A like means all your friends news feeds are gonna be polluted with this horrific picture, thanks! 3. Check out the group that it’s been posted by, do you really think someone who started a group called “She’s too young for you bro” or “The awkward moment when you see Adele rolling in the deep” really has any care or affiliation with helping anyone? It’s shameful, morally wrong self promotion. Pack it in with the likes, you are thick and unfriended.

Facebook ming type 5 – The attention seeker

Oh these are just a barrel of laughs. They go on and on and on about how crap their life is. Statuses may be along the lines of “Can’t wait for 2013, it’s got to be better than this year. This is the worst year of my life.” Right I’m not bein funny but I could swear down you said the same thing last year and the year before. What makes you think 2013 is gonna be any different? What are you getting a personality transplant for Christmas yeh? Your life is shit this year and it will be shit next year unless you get off your fat, boring arse and do something about it. Secondly the realisation that your statuses are doing everyones head in and no one actually gives a crap that your life is a load of bollocks probably isn’t gonna do your self esteem any favours now is it? In fact does someone you very rarely speak to ‘like’ it everytime you post a ‘woe is me’ status? Yeh? That’s cos they hate you and they’re made up. Soz aba you.

Facebook ming type 6 – The schizophrenic relationship

OH MY GOOOODDD I can’t cope with your life! You hate him one day, he’s utter scum and the next you two are having a cosy DVD night and he’s ‘the one’. Then you’re ‘splitting up for good this time’ – meet someone on Friday night, get into a FB relationship with them on Saturday and then break up again with them on Sunday once he’s nailed and bailed and had his full English off you. Do you then take a step back and assess what’s wrong? Maybe work on your self esteem and what you want out of life? Do you shite, you go running back to scumbag number one and make sure the whole of Facebook knows about it. Girl you are an utter utter crank. Just cut your losses and go join a nunnery, you’re not cut out for relationships…or life in general.

Facebook ming type 7 – The bore

I’m having me tea. Just going for a shower. Been the gym, feel tired. OMG I’m soooo entertained, thank for the update, you’ve made me day. Yano what, just stay where you are, don’t bother with twitter.

Facebook ming type 8 – The pyaaaa slag

She’s got 1083 friends and at least 73 mutual friends with everyone in Liverpool. She’s banged half of them. She uploads semi naked pictures of herself in a full face of make up and a curly blow sayin “Soz aba me I look a total SHEEEOOOWW!” in a blatant attempt to get likes. Love a lad likes anything with tits even the three titted alien prostitute from total recall, your personality is about as exciting as a tesco light choices chicken cup a soup. Yano in aba 5 years when your face is the consistency of arl leather and you’ve shagged your way round half of Liverpool where are your confidence boosts gonna come from then? Assess your life or you’ll end up doin special MILF lapdances in X an the City til your nose falls out from all the beak cos there’s nothing else in your empty life. Either that or you’ll have aba twenny kids and be a regular on Jeremy Kyle. In your head you reckon you’ll be a WAG – dream on.

Facebook ming type 9 – The googler

Does anyone know when the lights are getting switched on? How long have you got to take stuff back to topshop? What films has Val Kilmer been in? Facebook isn’t google! As another Facebook friend of mine put it so succinctly the other night, “Google’s right there, it’s fuckin right there!!” Use it.



I don’t even know why I’m on facebook at all anymore other than it’s a handy place to store your photos. I’m private up to the max, I’m not searchable (as far as I know) and I dread new friend requests. How do I say “yeh I’ll be your friend in real life but I don’t use Facebook in the spirit in which it was intended so I don’t wanna accept” without being impolite. Arr ay. I hate Facebook yano. I’m on the network but I’m anything but social. The only people on there who don’t do me swede in are people I also have on twitter. There’s maybe one or two people who post amusing statuses who DON’T have twitter but I just despair that they’re wasted on ‘Facey’. Generally it’s just full of idiots.


Inabit

@scousebirdprobs

Xx

GUESTBLOG BY @redcarpertLPL

So ... My summer was to say the least an actual ball ! Leaving for ibiza in may everything seemed like it would go amazingly well out there ... Bit of hair .. Bit of make up charge a few euros, but I was home after 12days I'd had enough of sweating like a porn star mid shoot and decided to come home to where the eyebrows are thick ...only to go back after 13days because I apparently couldn't live without ibiza I HAD to go back and I loved losing a stone in less than 2 weeks (honest if you wanna bang a stone off its the only way to do it) Who the fuck does that ? Indecicive prick me ! Anyway ... The next 2 months where filled with allkinds of madness in various well know ibizian establishments that I won't go into for fear of being arrested.... soz abar me! Moving swiftly on I have the same loathing for cleavage tops as my homegirl @scousebirdprobs but what's even more irritating than seeing a lads only messing pecs through a cut up tshirt posing as a vest is the amount of onlymessing joey essex's that where out there .. Urrrghhh the boys hot pants (coz that's actually what they thought they had on wen infact they where rolled up addidas shorts ... Soz abar them) where more reveling than the girls who where all bad BAD shows and even the girls shouldn't of been wearing them with the amout of cellulite hanging from there thunder thighs ! Teamed up with said cleavage revealing garment that tourments me so with a dodgy pair of their younger brothers off white converse... Fuck off mate your a a tit ... Have a seat!! And if your a scouser act like one !
in the middle of all this disgusting cunt-ness was me ... Flying the flagg high for scousers everywhere ! Eyebrows on and perfectly waxxed st moriz slapped on (everyday was blorange wednesday as I'm a pale prick who won't tan .. Fuck my actual life) and kept the cleavage tops to the boys from essex in linekars! Soz abar yous ! Job done in my eyes there pat on the back for me .... The girls where allways a mess and looked like they had never learned how to use a hair brush its rediculous what I saw out there ... It hurt my eyes to see it ... Horrible when your used to seeing beautiful women with nice hair on a regular basis and all you see around you is chu-fuckin-bacca ! Jogg on !

While in ibiza I met one of the most amazing person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting lyds AKA nan and have came home to start up REDCARPET LIVERPOOL ! A team of highley skilled hair stylist makeup artist and body painters avaliable to you mobile for pamaerparties and nights out ..nights out meaning secret missions to make wools feel inadequate in there pale skin and kittens oh and the odd denim skirt (why don't they just stay home they should have learned by now) follow us on twitter and that ghastly facebook for all enquiries !

anywaythe morals of the story is go to ibiza to lose weight ...make sure you have stmoriz ... Don't be joey essex if your actually not joey essex ... And book in with redcarpet for a curly blow

Traaaaaa x

Guest blog by @jenren87

So its half 7 on a thursday morning and i've already seen more genitals than a back alley brass but its all part of the job right? WRONG!

When i decided to become a nurse I imagined cute little uniforms, prancing round curing people with a smile. But then i turned to the dark side. Psychiatric nursing.

Now a lot of people think mental health is all straight jackets and people spreading their own shit on the walls. Its not. Its far worse. Is full people who if they say something, they say it a thousand times. People who if you ask them to have a wash, its like you've asked can you throw acid in their face! And dont get me started on when they go out... These people can dress in the most "normal" of outfits, tell em you're taking em to the asda and its full on bright pink hotpants, socks, and peeptoe kitten heels all topped off with a tshirt 2 sizes too small with a picture of a wolf on or something cringey like "am i bovvered?!" obviously not love, dressed like that. The shame!

Dont get me wrong i love my job, and most patients are sound but you get these types who just want a reaction and my reaction is "the bus to st helens is thatta way!"

So yeh, if you're think nursing is glam: its not! Your days off are used to catch up on sleep and wash your hair!

Well thats my blog. Hope you enjoy. Lotsa love @jenren87

So if you're a girl i have almost no doubt you've gone around the block to allow pavement spectators to fuck off before you attempt to reverse parallel park.. Or park or reverse in general. I get a bad case of shame when I'm holding up the high street trying bleto 'squeeze' my tiny car into a space large enough for rooneys range rover. I just cannot judge distance, is it just me?! I also have two settings for driving down a road with the dreaded parked cars on my side.. Wing mirror swiping distance, or so far on the other side of the road people are waving their vile hands at me and im forced to scream OH CHILLL AAAAAUT. Id honestly rather go the long way and avoid such roads, the stress causes me to sweat up a storm on my top lip n ruin my perfectly painted on MAC concoction of foundation (at least 3 diff types) , i question how i passed my driving test every week.. If not every day.
Which brings me to my next point. FUCKING cyclists!!!! My accute rage for them stems from the fact they are complete arrogant mugs AND i am certain the reason im gonna get banged up and made some lesbo haired jail bird is cuz one day their gonna ignorantly wobble infront of me and im going to squash um dead cuz im far to busy flicking thru my ipod looking for a cool enough song to blast out my windows as the high street fast approaches. So yeah, their blatant disregard for the people in giant solid boxes of machinery pisses me off... Who do they think they are to run red lights and not stop at zebby crossings? Please don't even get me started on when they wobble past your stationaty shiney new car on their 'vintage' rusty pile of crap. Do. Not. Touch. If you steady yourself using my bonnet.. I'll give you a lift home ....... On my bonnet you cheeky cow.
I suppose i myself am a menace to the roads along with cyclists buses and mopeds with less power than my blowdryer (just get the bus cuz thats embarrassing mate) but im pretty sure getting arrested cuz i couldn't wait till i was home to tweet about the latest story iv read on the mail online is worth it right?? RIGHT???!

By @caitlinwynters