Ladies - is it you that's the Alcoholic?

Ladies… You know when you go to the bathroom – always checking for spots? No pimple can last for longer than the time between urinating. Messy hair with knots, ladies it’s the same – it’s just the time between pees that your hair can be and stay naughty,

But you can weigh 9 stone and have fingers as swollen and large as cumbershire sausages and you still won’t notice you’ve got a drink problem.

You can sit out on an October morning, 5 degrees, gail blowing, you’ll be in a tshirt and sweating and you still won’t notice you’ve got a drink problem.

Your nose is as red as Rudolfs.. but no – it’s winter sunburn, you haven’t got a drink problem.

Your friends start ordering water from the bar, and it takes the same amount of time for them to drink 1 half pint glass of water as for you to down 3 pints of strong bow and you still won’t notice you’ve got a big drink problem.

You see your best friends chatting to you with a big smile on her face, you sense shes talking about the cute guy in the office and what she wants for her birthday but all you can say is, “Why such a sad face, get yourself a drink, cmon lets party” No you still won’t notice during this work away day that you’re the one with the drink problem.

You’re buying a Kebab.

You’re on your second Kebab and you’re not sure how you got a chicken one this time. Alcoholic? Not you.

The whole of London is winking at you – you’re in a tower block – perhaps you can fly? Oh – a cold bottle of beer being handed over by a cute fat guy who looks like father xmas….. drinking issues? Nope!

Really comfy soft bed – need toilet – oh fat guys fallen asleep on top … warm water flows, feels nice….

Head hits taxi door jam…. Santa’s so nice..

Time for work….oh I’ve got a cold:0) Phone in.

Love Music

Woman in thirties walks into a small independent music store. The shop is full of Vinyl and CD’s.

The Owner is a smooth talking city type, a budding Richard Branson.

Owner: Can I help you Miss?

Customer: I’ve just got into a relationship & I want music to match my mood, you know?

Knowingly the Owner nods.

Owner:Lemar Love

Owner picks up the CD Lemar Love. Picture of X Factor winner covers the CD.

Customer:What Tracks?

Owner:The Classic, [Sung] “You making me Feel Good”

Customer:No

Owner: George Michael? [Sung] “Come unto me”

Customer nods No

Owner: Elton Johns new album – the track [Sung] “You wear my lions mane, ile wear you”

Customer: No! We’re in a Romantic mood..

Owner (Eager to please and sell) Barry White, Love Walrus…

Customer: Used him with my ex…put me off, and I want it to be real this time…

Owner; Susan Boyle’s just released an album.. she’s fresh to romance. She wrote this album after she began dating her first boyfriend.

Owner picks up Susan Boyle's album as if it's something dirty and revolting. Owner reads the track names.

Owner:First Track is called “Is that it?”, 2nd Track “I’d rather Titchmarsh”, 3rd “My body stings, you sure we did it right?”

Customer:Perfect – I’le buy it!

I'm Dating Facebook. Ok?

Those excluded from cyberspace, sacrificed to living just within these 3 dimensions, marooned on the island of actual reality – let me explain Facebook.

It’s Heaven - for us on earth, and it’s name is Facebook. I have 370 friends there. They are always smiling and cute. Interesting and fun. They bask under the virtual Facebook Sun. Eyes open, teeth shining, never growing old, never dying, no pain. Once in a while they wake from their happy slumber and instant message me, but most of the time they lie passive and happy. I float around their pages, undisturbed, learning all the best things about them. If I want find others – I search and see the smiling faces of billions..

Dry humping, always felt so much better than sex. Like Dry Humping is Facebook. Facebook is better than life… umm and Sex.

God set up a Fan Club on Facebook… After reading the DaVinci code I don’t trust all that gubbins… Especially the rules for joinng… sheesh! I won’t accept getting gangbanged by a mob so my dad can sit safely indoors drinking with a rescued Angel, I don’t care if the angel looks like Zac Ephron – I ain’t being no Jodie Foster on a Pool table… not even for God! That joke really worked in the Vatican…. You know Sodom and Gomorrah? “I know what the Sodomites did but what the Feck Gomorran’s were doing – SHEESH!’

Jesus’s fan page – All his status updates are in past tense. It’s supposed to be what you’re doing now.

Plus he starts playing Farmville and all he had was 1 cow and 1 pig, within 5 minutes of joining he had thousands, enough to feed 5000 fat Americans. I don’t trust him.

Mohammad’s page, he didn’t have a photo… Shy? Whatever – they’re all too old school – for me! I can’t poke or chat or tell Jokes with no shut your eyes and imagine religion. I need interactivity!

So I settled for signing upto Oprah Winfrey’s Facebook fanclub. She’s all the god this woman needs.

Plus she’s released a sex book!

Coxswain. I used to be a Coxswain. That’s the little gobby one that sits on the end of a rowing boat and shouts and the big rowers to go faster. Due to hitting 11 years old and overnight turning into the 6ft 20stone women you see before you, I was yelled at to “GET OFF THE BOAT! The boat’s scraping the bottom of the river; Water is coming over the sides, this aint a submarine, GET OFF FATTY, You Giant FreaK”. Rowers were little bitchy in the eighties….

I had to stop being a Coxswain. I’d loved it – I had been involved in a sport – but really - I was a spectator with a great view.

SEX is very similar. It’s also a Spectator Sport, with a great view.

Can we rebrand SeX? Sex for women means fumbling around with a guy, watching him cum then using up the next 24 hours buying Caneston, having salt baths & using Caneston - all for the friction burns (Boys – our soft bits feel like they’ve been tenderized, like you tenderize a steak. Why do they feel like that? Cos are soft bits have been tenderized, the way you tenderize a steak. [mime getting cock out and tenderizing steak] I know that what you boys do!). So boys, lets not talk in ‘Sex’ terms – keep it to Orgasms. That’s the bit I want…. The big O, an Orgasm. You can keep your spectator sport, I want to be in this game and score big and often, I’m happy to have as many as you:0)

Let me Row!60 million people working at this moment in the United Kingdom. If we each raise £13,333 we can pay off the UK £800 Billion debt. So I’ve set up a Facebook page asking for donations. It’s called “You wanted this ‘just society’, So pay for it!”. Easy! Suck Dirt ConDems!

I only accept messages from Facebook. I’m weaning myself off this face to face stuff… like if you call me on the telephone, or dare even to text – I SHOUT – get yourself back to the 90’s Mr Alan Sugar, Facebook me or nothing.

And I’m sorry I missed your event DAD – if the event ain’t on Facebook it don’t exist in my world, ergo – it don’t exist FULL STOPP. Yeah – so I missed your funeral? You didn’t send a global event invite Dad – so you aint dead to me…

BTW What is the etiquette of dead Facebook friends?

Report them…?

I had an instance – I’d met a guy called Gordon through mutual friends and we’d gone out on a few occasions, had pizza wine – he was so good looking and charming – he was like a beautiful modern day Roger Moore James Bond. He loved to talk about porn, and the sex he’s seen and wanted – and I really didn’t mind, he was charming and sexy and I spent the meal turned on and highly amused – he made sex funny and saucy, naughty and palatable, his conversation went well with the wine and 4 Cheeses pizza, my nan might not of liked it, or his wife – but they were busy chatting about X Factor or whatever….

6 months passed and life moves quickly and we’d not seen each other around, then I spy his gorgeous face on Facebook. So I ‘request Friend’. After a few days I bump into a mutual friend of ours who tells me that Gordon died of cancer.

Shit – it was really sad, plus I was a bit embarrassed about requesting his facebook friendship – it’s a bit insensitive. Well I log in to Facebook – to see if I can withdraw my request… and - he’s accepted. Dead Gordan has accepted my Friend Request.

OMG - SHIT I think – he’s contacting me , from the other fucking side.. I’m like thinking O’My dude – get off the Facebook, leave it alone.

Fuck – that really is a Facebook obsessefysing. So what’s the etiquette – do I delete him? Do I block him? Report him? “Dead People Message Me”. Then he messages me, asking me “do I want to meet up?”

What the? I look at his profile – I read all these condolences from friends and family.

His status doesn’t ever change – it reads ‘Feeling better’.

He emails again asking me to his memorial service –well that does it – he’s taking the piss - it freaks me out – I’m like – begon satan bastard – leave this living plane. Now the surprise – satan only goes an apologises!

Unexpected? Nice!

Now the passive aggressive power of Facebook – “Facebook Blocking”. Similar to Cock Blocking – but involving more Cocks.

Men have Blocked me from their Facebook – what do they think I’m gonna do?

When I see these Face CockBlockers, in the flesh – what do I say to them…. Cos if I shout at them “hey you won’t accept my friend request, I can’t see your photos.., I can’t show the world I’ve got even more friends” I sound like a sad bitch that needs a life and they’ll be as smug as David Cameron. So instead I have to act like I don’t give a shit – but I do. They’re defecating my civil rights, they’re deny my feminist power, they are imprisoning me away from my bra burning liberty…

Martin Luther King said“I have a dream”, Germain Greer said “I’m allowed to Cream”. They would spin in their graves if they new their efforts were powerless against Facebook Fascists!

If someone asks my religion.. I say Facebook. I deny all false profits like umm letter writing, travelling.. conversation..



What I love about Facebook is it crosses all divides, all classes. It’s a universal leveller.

People without the internet still use Facebook.

They get a piece of card, like a from a cardboard box and write in Blue and White ‘Facebook’. The exact styled name and logo… you know - on the card.

Then they add a photo or draw a picture of themselves… sometimes wearing funny moustaches. They hand the card to their friends… their buddies will add notes.. and then when you get your Facebook back, you add a status, then pass it around again –

“The Circle of LIFEEEEE”

Over time these cards, get turned into little books – they stick their profile card onto school books…they’re upgrading you see? Creating their very own Face Book Book….

They have all Facebook applications.

If they want to poke a friend, they like get up and go over to their friend and like actually ‘poke’ them, with their finger..

And they email ‘old-school’. Yeah Coolio… Email – Electronic Mail. They get a guy with a Tazer or an old car battery, and they like send him over to their mates… they go over and ‘email’ you…a Male Electrocutes you. It’s so cool..

In huts and communities around the world, Facebook creates a quiet atmosphere – everyone scribbling at their Facebook pages.. which is likegreat for countries in Warzones or under seize… coz like in Zimbabwe or Afghanistan… Instead of the head Mullah screaming – “Get down, be quiet, the Americans are coming, they’re drugged up on prescription post-traumatic anti-psychotics and want to rape us all” – they now just whisper ‘Facebook’ and all the women and children quietly busy themselves.. updating statuses… while infidels and holy warriors are killed to the back beats of Jimi Hendrix remix and of course the swishing of Facebook updating.

If someone is a bit dirty though – on someone’s face…book…book.. You know – writing about how bad you look in your photo, or that you’re tits look fake - well you get reported and a warning is smeared onto your Profile Card, if you don’t cool it they burn your Facebook book. I don’t like the idea of burning face book books – burning Facebook is immoral – Fair enough you wanna burn a regular book on evolution or some maths shit – but like buring a face book book – it’s like burning a soul – it’s life and everything, like burning gods face… book……