hello internet

y'all prbly didnt know this, but it is pretty tuff being a teenager sometimes.

figuring out life n all that shit. what does it mean to b a teenager? what does it feel like?

+ why do we spend so much of our lives sitting at home on tinternet, playing upon virtual farms n trying to change the world thru blogging? yes i do have 559 'friends' on the social networking site u may have heard of called 'facebook', but do i like any of these people? prbly not. why do we feel so lonely? so instead us poor teenagers try to drown our sorrow in gallons of strongbow and smoke away our troubles with some smooth mayfairs. the sophistated end of the teenage spectrum will prbly prefer white wine ((if they can afford it with their weekly allowance)) and even some marlboro lights. mmmm classy! perhaps we'll do a line of coke evry once in a while + feel like we've got 1 over our horrible fuckin parents who wont let us do what we fuckin like. fuckin sons of a bitches. we guys cant even get a job because of this so called 'economic depression' that we dont even understand because our brains r not yet fully developed :(

do u even understand what being a teenager in the 21st century is like? u cnt possibly. we jst wanna 'fuck shit up' and be 'alternative'. do u listen to radiohead? yes i have heard of the smiths so im so like 80s n cool like. one time i read trainspotting! so yeah i can understand drugs n the world surrounding them now. im saving up some of my allowance money so i can buy a fixed gear bike and cycle about town lookin suave. cant afford many drugs bOOHOO. i gave my CV into topshop and they said they'd give me a call so i got ready to have the most alt job about (except for urban outfitters) and then katie bovington told me they have received over 500 applications for 2 vacancies. FUCK THAT SHIT. see its relly not that easy being 16, growing up in a harsh, cold world with soulless art and soulless music. that dizzie rascal rapper - all he cares about is 'sex n violence'. does that mean that is all i care about too?

summer sweet

Exams are done.
England. Central london. Heatwaves. Prom Queen. Newspapers on trains. Swine flu. Pimms. Marujuanna. Sweat. Bare legs. Bare feet. Swimming pools. Gigs. Drugs. Belle & Sebastian. Floral dress patterns. Gold jewellery. Roll ups. Michael Jackson's death. Shady lane. Evening walks. China. Thick mascara. Eastenders. Psychoville. Coughs. Bug bites. Majorca. Twitter. Coffee + TV . Beer. Tate Modern. College induction day. Dave the laugh. Golf courses. Death of two mexican midget wrestlers. Almond crossaints from Pret. Working in the city. Pottery shops + italian children. Mushrooms. Blur.
Bye bye reality.

reasons to be cheerful. part 4

i am going to entirely dedicate this blogpost to ian robins dury. god bless. 9 years now since we lost you to cancer, and your music still continues to be beautiful, humourous and to inspire even today.

naturally, i was always going to be a fan of ian dury. both my english grandparents adored ian dury & the blockheads, as well as my own father who has raised me on the likes of the clash, the specials and the jam, alongside with ian dury & the blockheads of course. originally, years ago when i first properly listened to ian dury & the blockheads, i'll admit i didn't really get it. i was young and i dont think i could comprehend how different it was to the generic music in the charts. now at the age of 16, listening to ian dury & the blockheads never fails to bring a smile to my face and such a good, relaxed feeling.

it isn't just music; its poetry, wordplay and humour. and so british! not excelling merely lyrically, the blockheads created a sound drawn from so many influences, such as reggae, funk and jazz and of course rock and roll. the overall outcome is so original and endearing  and captures so much character.

i admire ian dury for a lot of reasons. growing up with polio is surely difficult, yet it only sharpened his character; he was still such a confident, positive and determined man. 

my dad has recently purchased an original piece of art of ian dury designed by peter blake, dury's art teacher, famous for designing the sleeve of the beatles' album 'sgt. pepper's lonely hearts club'. my dad paid an insane amount of money for it and when i found out the price i was kinda frustrated with him wasting the family's money on something so materialistic. but as it hangs up in the living room everytime i look at it, i realise it was worth every penny and more.

if you wanna make a good purchase, try buying this.  

i wrote my own list of reasons to be cheerful inspired from the blockheads' song. i guess its pretty personal to me, its all the best things in my life i am so glad i can experience, things id miss so much.

- summer buddy holly

- cold beer outside in the sun

- strangers seeming better than friends

- being alone on an empty train carriage

- the velvet underground, the beatles and small faces on a sunday morning

- smoking out of windows

- the beauty of music

- silent nights sitting up in bed

- having nothing to worry about

- being on the very edge of the night, laughing

- long hot showers in the winter

- being absolutely free

- dancing with a wine glass in hand

- finishing a book and feeling so content

- swimming with the sun on your back

- being in love

- fried bacon and haloumi in honey to cure any hangover

- dogs winking

- running down to the train station in high heels as the sun sets

- the smell of jasmine taking me back to cairp

- being absolutely reckless and daring

- the sun on one side of the sky, and the moon on the other

- cool summer nights

- the excitement of the future

R.I.P ian dury. we miss ya.

18.02.09

I have somehow stumbled upon discovery of the lonely, single adult life. Feel a bit like Bridget Jones. Since my mother inflicted the new rule 'no more going out until your art coursework is finished' I've been waking up every day to an empty and silent house. First of all it was brilliant, playing music excessively loud and dancing around the kitchen whilst I cook myself glorious meals. Now sadly I have come to realise that I must rely on myself, as to my furious anger this morning I discovered there was no milk left in the fridge to even make myself a bloody coffee. After scrounging around the house searching for money I discovered a crumpled fiver in my brother's bedroom and decided to cycle down to the shops in my pajamas. Then I remembered how embarrassed I was yesterday when someone said to me "saw you yesterday, walking your dog in your pajamas". OH GREAT, its like being bloody celebrity spotted wearing no makeup with messy undone hair. Whipped on some trackies, then said FUCK CYCLING when I couldnt find the key to the shed anywhere. During the walk down I was listening to a real good band called WHITE FLIGHT, check them out here. Bought a cheeky little Freddo whilst I was in Londis, why the hell have they increased in price by 5p? Everything is gonna get worse in England. Give it a year and I bet you Freddos will be 30p which is appalling. At the counter Mr Patel asks me 'are you getting bored of sitting at home all day?'. Woah woah woah, don't go throwing too many accusations around there sir. How does he know I currently don't have a life? Maybe its the dirty baggy jumper and no makeup look I've gone for. Or maybe he just mistook me for my little brother again. No I shan't be coming into your shop again. 

Get home and alas my cleaner Haitini is here, what a beautiful lovely little Thai lady. She laughs at me and says 'I see you walking back from shop, you look very miserable'. GOD BLESS. Am spending my days painting Georgia O-Keefe style flowers and getting really into VAMPIRE WARS on facebook. Yeah that's right, I'm kicking some vampire ass, level 9 already. This week will get better I'm sure.

16.02.09

Well, this week has been a lot. After breaking up from school on Friday I arrived home in a miserable and tired mood and decided to get into bed with a bottle of wine, no intentions of leaving the house. However, already tipsy, when I received a phone call informing me of a 'MENTAL' house party, thought perhaps it might be worth it. Yeah, it was not. Travel all the way to a dodgy kinda flat in Wallington, full of about a hundred angry looking, drunk, sweaty, screaming teenagers. It was definitely more than Skins series 3, to be fair. After examining the place I couldn't understand why the flat seemed strangely bare until I heard sirens and the sudden screaming of everybody "THE POLICE ARE HERE! RUN!"

Brilliant, truly brilliant. And yep, there are about five or so police cars gathered outside, policemen barking 'GET OUT!' to everyone. Turns out the flat was abandoned. I don't wanna break the law no more, how do I get myself into these situations? Went to a better party, after resorting to using St. Helier Hospital as a desperate means of a toilet. I was glad I left my house in the end.

Other highlights of that weekend include Benny excessively projectile vomiting down my road at 12 o clock on a Sunday night after a pretty bizarre night at some boy's house at the end of my road. Haven't laughed so hard for a while. Even better, when I wake up in the morning incredibly hungover, I find a nice pile of sick next to Benny's head on my sofa. THANKS BENNY. Had to clean up that myself and couldn't get the stench of sick out of the room for a while. Mum gave me a lecture about binge drinking that evening, and how she did not appreciate me coming home so late at night when everyone is asleep, tap dancing in the hallway and proclaiming "I'M SO BLOODY DRUNK" to her. I'll find someone who appreciates it one day I KNOW IT.