I do believe we should all get rather drunk on Friday.

I've barely done any revision, I haven't had a response about my coursework plan (and nobody seems to have picked up the post for well over a week, so I don't even know whether she's received it), and my roots are driving me crazy.

HOWEVER.

I have found my cocktail mixer, and I have recipes for a daiquiri, a white russian, a screwdriver, an espresso martini, a shark bite and a painkiller.
Hence, Friday seems the perfect night to forget about exams and coursework. Yes?

I honestly have so little to blog about at the moment -_-.

-a.

By jove! It's a kangaroo!

Yes. You read correctly. A kangaroo.

I fell asleep on the sofa today. Big mistake. Never EVER fall asleep in a house with a three year old on the prowl.
So I wake up and scream. I actually scream out loud for the entire street to hear. There is a giant kangaroo in my face. A TOY KANGAROO. IN MY FACE.

It took me about twenty minutes to recover.

The price is - what?: Photography, and why it isn't photography.

Echoes by The Rapture is a truly brilliant song.

So, I've given up on If It Matters At All indefinitely because we need to get some posts on here. I mean, we also need to grab ourselves some more followers, but to be honest if you've got to spout that much crap to get any - well it just isn't worth it.

I've spent the day shouting "you're not a bloody photographer!" at my screen today, and I thought our blog was about due for a lengthy rant. Hence "Photography, and why it isn't photography".

Take a look through Facebook, or scroll through your Dailybooth or Tumblr dashboard. How many people on there have an album labeled "photography" or claim to be an actual photographer? Now, answer this - how many of them are photographers? The word means nothing anymore - it's almost like my "love" argument. A photographer is someone who takes photographs professionally, yes? Not someone who takes photographs of themselves on their webcam, via a mirror, or with a bloody outstretched arm.

Another thing that honestly drives me up the wall is when people take slightly off-centre photos of bins, and call it art. It's a bin. I'm sure it meant a lot at the time and everything, but seriously?

A photographer is a professional - someone who is ideally paid for what they do. Not someone who thinks of themselves as both the model and the photographer, and then takes photographs of themselves in the bathroom.
You're not a photographer, you just have an overpriced camera.

Woah there, Rigrog! We all know who that was aimed at!
Yes, most of my rants are.

- a.

The Post with No Name

I know I should really be using this, (my little corner of the internet)to broadcast my many important opinions and for intellectual debate. I know that I should be doing that, but I'd much rather have a bit of a squee.

I swear to God he's taller,(if at all possible.) His hair is all floppy and soft and I want to touch it. His voice is even nicer than I remember it and he's...he's...he's just BOOTIFUL! It's not fair! Why must he grow ever more devilishly attractive as I become less so?

WAIT! WAIT!

HE SAPS MY ATTRACTIVNESS!

THAT'S IT!

I can even feel it happening while I'm around him! When I talk to him, he becomes even more perfect and I grow fatter, shorter and uglier by the second!

THAT BASTARD!

Taking all my beauty.

OHMYGOD I THINK I LOVE HIM! (Hyperventalates)

Ginger Kids and Bracelets.

Apparently, on the (many) occasions that I am drunk, I reveal all my woes to a small ginger kid I barely know.

I'm sorry? But why would I like one when I've seen what better there is to like? It'd be like being in a jewelry shop and going: "Hmm, that's an Ok bracelet...Ooh, but there's a nicer one which is a lot cheaper! Yeah, I'll get the first one." (I mean no offence to the first bracelet really; the other one is just a god.)

Yes, I'm perfectly aware that this post will only make sense to Riggers, but that's ok. To be honest, I'm not in enough of a self-indulgent/arrogant mood to post some preachy holier than thou rant today.

I suppose, in a way, I just have.

So YEAH.

But HAVE you?

Has anyone ever fancied someone in spite of themselves? Has anybody ever thought: 'Oh my God, what a dick.' but then proceeded to fancy them anyway? Has anyone been so continually annoyed by someone that they suddenly become rather dear to you? Has anyone ever seen an ambulance at the place where such a person happened to be and thought: "OH MY GOD THEY'RE DEAD!" and been on the brink of tears until you see them wandering about unharmed?

Yeah, me neither. That's lucky.

What's good about women?!

In the common room right now - and mr lewis has a cheeky beard.
It was pitch black when I was on the bus this morning. I think I may have made a pretty bad decision there.
Basket shoes!
Actually, speaking of women, one of them ruined monday night for me. You'd think that in an aim to save us all, women would keep their music inside their own homes. That is definitely not the case. This particular woman seemed convinced that she was Hayley Williams. You can see why she ruined my night now.
Bloody women.

- a.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love Slumdog Millionaire?

And the guy who plays Jamal...Grr! There's a dog I wouldn't mind slummin' it with! ;)

I can't even write a coherent post about Slumdog Millionaire because of how awesome it is. I feel devastated, elated, excited, uplifted and angry all at the same time. IT'S FIVE TO ELEVEN ON A SUNDAY EVENING!!! THIS IS NO TIME FOR COMPLICATED EMOTIONS!!

Seriously though...Dev Patel...*drool*

I think it's because he wears shirts during a fair bit of the film...I'm a bit weird about men in shirts...

Mmm...shirts.

I Want To Show You My Affection, But I Can't Do It Through This Dial Up Connection

Happy blog post for happy people who don't fancy being too deep today :)
I am in a brilliant mood, because I've just realised that I have an intimate gig with Amy Can Flyy a week today. More importantly, I have an intimate gig with Benjamin Haynes a week today.
I am a little bit excited about this, guys.

Now I've just got to put up with a week of constant maths and no frees - but Ben will get me through this.

- a.

I believe in a thing called Love

(I now invite you to listen to the rhythmic pounding of my heart!:p)

So shoot me.

I believe in love. Ok, so perhaps not the over romanticised mushy American sort of Hollywood love, but I hold fervent belief in the simple, genuine and undignified sort which we see every day.

Surely, all love (or the 'illusion' of love as some may call it) cannot be based purely on the need to reproduce. What about same-sex relationships? Similarly, feelings for others cannot be purely based on the need for companionship. Yes, I'm sure there's all sorts of hormones and chemicals which might make these feelings come about, but can a hormonal rush last for a lifetime? Real, stoic and enduring affection comes into fruition later.

To me, tiny acts of human kindness prove that love is all around me. (and so the feeling grows. ) Leaving the landing light on so that someone doesn't trip in the dark when they come to bed, pushing the tin-pot car of a man you've never met before over a speed bump, finding a fiver on the floor and putting it in a charity collection; even something as simple as smiling at someone on the street.

The people for which we do such things are, most likely, ones that we will never see or encounter again, so it follows that we cannot be doing these things for personal gain; these are people that we will maintain no contact with, and therefore will not give us anything in return other than their gratitude. Perhaps, you might say, we do these things for the sense of personal satisfaction that they bring, but can you honestly tell me that personal satisfaction is the first thing you think about when buying a Big Issue?

All these tiny things form the basis for the monster we call Love. The sort of love which would compel you to die for the object of your affections, the stupidly extravagant and flamboyant notion of romantic love.

From this, of course, physical gratification can be gained, (*Ahem*) but what about the elderly couples who stay together until death, the type who still cuddle each other at the ages of 92 and 93? That just has to be based on something more, doesn't it?

It would be fair to say that, until now, my points have been fairly sketchy and it would also be entirely correct, so I'm going to end on this: Love is the last great belief. In an increasingly atheist world, love is the one last tangible human thing in which to have faith.

So fuck it. I'm a romantic.

Check it out. Oh yeah, It's ma sister.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HsXoCrqL8F8

That link right up there is ma sister doing singing. Was listening to slightly depressing songs and thought: "TEIM FOR MA SISTAH!"

Thought I'd just share it with the world.

Comments neccessary. (But if they're negative I'mma gonna hunt you down, attach electrodes to your nipples and give you a very unpleasant half-hour.)

"I Am Not Butch" - by Arran Rigney.

I've just been watching Star Trek, hence the play on "I Am Not Spock".

For some reason, I'm always labeled as "butch", or when we discuss future plans, I'm either "the cat lady" or "the lesbian". I just thought I'd whap out a quick post about this, because I honestly don't understand where this labeling began.

I spend most of my time with guys, granted. This isn't because I'm a lesbian (actually, if I were a lesbian, I think I'd choose to spent more time around the female species...), or because I'm horribly butch, it's because I honestly find guys to be better company. I've always found women to be a bit too catty for me - then again, that's probably just a product of going to an all girls' school. Of course, I've got a few really close friends who are female - most of which are probably readers of this blog - or were, before we started to get all deep, but overall I'm just more comfortable around guys. It's just the way I work.

I am more than happy to go to a fairly heavy gig, jump in a pit if I'm not worried about piercings, or run out for a game of basketball with the boys. My favourite movies are the Die Hard collection, I frequently tell girlies to man up, and I currently prefer men's clothes because they're comfy and the shoulders aren't hideous.

But I cry at Die Hard, I cry at Winnie The Pooh, I talk to my cat like she's a baby, and indie kid & facial-hair-piercings-guy are my motivation for getting the bus in the morning.
Hence, I don't think I'm all that butch, to be honest.

So, there we go - now can we stop labeling me as the lesbian-cat-lady? I think I'm fairly capable of having a relationship with a male without butching out.

- a.

Inverted Questions.

Check out how deep I am:

Is there a light on?
OR
Is there an on light?

Has the kettle just boiled?
OR
Has the boil just kettled?

Is squirrel in the tree
OR
Is the tree within the squirrel?

Do I own an ipod?
OR
Does my ipod own me?

Is God a real person?
OR
Is a real person God?

Do I play Golf?
OR
Does Golf play me?

Is death the end?
OR
Is the end death?

Is Simon Cowell a shitbag?
OR
Is a shitbag Simon Cowell?

Is the kitchen the heart of the home?
OR
Is the heart the home of the kitchen?

Is the cup next to the wall?
OR
Is the wall next to the cup?

Is the cat chasing the mouse?
OR
Is the mouse chasing the cat?

Yeah...deep, aren't it?

Arran and beth try to make their blog sound deep - take three.

"Step in my house, realise that your stuff is gone. But in reality to whom does the stuff belong?"

So, that was me being deep and intelligent.
Hah! Only joking! That was me listening to 'All Rise by Blue! Of course, you probably couldn't tell because it sounds just as insightful as the crap that some people churn out on their blogs weekly.

Yeah. Think about it.
- a

SCIENTISTS

Ok, so scientists have a reputation for dressing poorly and having the social skills of an autistic cucumber-right? But I've just thought: Perhaps scientists are engaged in a worldwide experiment to PROVE that normal social interaction is uneccessary to scientific progress.

They're almost like modern monks, aren't they? They never have any sex and have silly hair. They're the sort of people who know the exact speed of light, but couldn't tell you anything about popular culture.

If you are in any way worried that you are becoming a scientist, call some sort of helpline. In the meantime, here are some warning signs. If you can catch it early, it might not spread too much.

1. Do you prefer maths with letters to maths with numbers?
2. Do you find chess sexually arousing?
3. Is a symposium your idea of a holiday.

If the answer to one or more of these questions is yes, then you are in serious danger and I pity you.

Not quite sure what that was about... S'pose it's relevant in some way.

Blogger and Buffy - who needs a social life?

I've resorted back to Buffy. There's zero to do in Dolphinholme.
"coffee - it's not a date, it's a caffeinated beverage! Sure, it's hot and bitter like a relationship, but..."
Buffy is seriously underrated.

I'm adding and missing letters everywhere! This keyboard is hell.

- a

I'm back, and I'm writing this whole post on a phone! Hoorah!

I'm writing this entire post with my new phone, so my apologies if it seems a bit off. The internet costs me nothing! I'm using the wifi at home!

Anyway, I've been using tumblr recently, because nobody really takes themselves seriously on there, you know? I honestly can't stand people to try to sound deep on their blogs, whilst stating the bleedin' obvious! Silly people!

- a.

WIND

God, I love the wind! It makes me feel all Pride-and-Prejudicey. When it's like this I just want to run through a cornfield wearing a cotton dress. Then, when I get to Netherfield, Mr Darcy can admire the brilliancy of my complexion.

There's also an enigmatic side to wind. While you're being blown about you look all deep and thoughtful, like. It gives one a contenplative, almost brooding air.

So, anyone up for some running about in a field? If so, do not hesitiate to contact me.

Newly aquired coolness.

Ready for another long winded, irrelevant rant?

So, some people are becoming cooler than they were before. How on earth did they do it? Well, here's my theory:

When we're at this stage in out lives, (some indiscernible place between child and adult) it is tantamount to our existence that we be cool. The annoying thing is, you can't suddenly decide that you're cool; other people have to be the judge of that.

There are several things we can do to up our amount of cool. Firstly, you must never enjoy yourself. Nobody laughing infectiously is cool, because the main idea of cool is that one has to take oneself incredibly seriously. Laughing is for lesser mortals, the ones that don't get it. Always scowl and look at the world with the attitude: 'Funny? I laugh in the face of funny,'if you don't take yourself seriously, no one else will.

Secondly, there must be NO spring in your step. To be cool, one must shuffle. The cool's feet are weighed down with the awesome responsibility of being so cool. Cool people also do not swing their arms. (actually, is probably best not to swing your arms too much, cool or otherwise. There's always the slight danger that you'll look like a Nazi)

Never give the impression that you think anything might be a good idea. For example, say you want to go and see a film, but, when being cool, the last thing you want to do is to suggest it. Decisions such as these are made by the uncool. The uncool must speak and embarrass themselves before the cool can go to the cinema, leaving the uncool person at home crying.

Like being yourself, being cool rests upon what you wear. If you're cool, you wear stuff that would have looked stupid the day before and will be out of fashion the next day. (N/B: This is a lot easier to do when it has already been established that you are cool.) If you're lucky, you can turn up to college wearing tweed knickerbockers and you will still be cool in the eyes of your less cool friends, who will all come in the next day wearing something similar. (This, incidentally, is how the fashion industry works.)

Fresh air and sun are a no-go for the cool. These things make you happy and may even force you to remove your cool clothing. This is why cool people tend to sleep late and come out after dark. The lack of sunlight, however does not stop them from wearing sunglasses. These are an essential part of a cool person's wardrobe, as they help to avoid eye contact, and any kind of eye contact implies a momentary loss of total self-absorption, and therefore cool.

How to be yourself

One of the essential ways to lead a happy life is by learning to be yourself; your own original person. Stupidly, however, nobody ever tells you how to be yourself, nor are there websites through which one can download a handy template upon how to be completely individual.

It's not always good to be yourself. The deeply unpleasant, elitist socially backward people one sometimes comes across are, unfortunately being themselves. Imagine how helpful it would be if they could try to be someone else, preferably someone nicer and less prone to self-pity/indulgence.

Life starts without any form of self consciousness, then comes adolescence when one suddenly realises that the first thirteen years have done nothing other than mess you up. For the next seventeen years, we find it more important what other people think about us rather than what we think about ourselves. (This wears off after a few years when we finally come to realise that other people haven't actually been thinking about us at all)

Being yourself naturally has fashion implications. People who are truly themselves have a look which nobody else on the planet shares. Many people think they're expressing individuality in their hairstyle, but when looking at photographs thirty years in the future, you'll be modeling the classic cuts of the early 21st century.

Sexuality is often a large manifestation of you as a person. (I've said it before, and I'll say it again: anyone who's anyone is bisexual these days) this is why, I imagine, that the best sexual partners find it easy to be themselves in the bedroom...but I couldn't say that'd be wise if the other person is pissed off/bored at the time.

Scientifically, it's impossible to be yourself. I've been on google and now I know for a FACT that sub-atomic particles change under observation... and so do we! Depending upon what or who we are interacting with, we change slightly. We all have multiple personalities, and we whip out the one which works best in whatever situation we're in.

In conclusion, only shy people are actually themselves. It makes absolutely no sense to say that you're a shy person underneath. Shy people don't have underneaths; they wear their underneaths on top without protective covering.

So, who have I had a go at this post?

Scene kids: check
Gays: check

And who else I wonder?

Rewriten Disney song.

Ok, I'm not sure if I've done this one before, but here you go anyway.

I can show you my cock
Shining, shimmering, splendid
Tell me, princess, now when did
You last let your heart decide?

I can open my flies
Take you wonder by wonder
Over, sideways and under
On a burning carpet ride

I'm sort of stuck for the rest of it...any ideas?

I used to be love drunk - but now I'm hungover --

-- sorry, I tried Slipknot, but Tinkeroo prefers punk-pop.

I'm not blogging as much on here anymore, so my apologies.
- Although I'm not sure who I'm apologising to. Who reads this anymore?

Anyway, I've finally given up and turned to Tumblr. It's honestly so clean and simple, I swear the vicar could use it, and she's only just found out how to use folders in My Docs.

So, if you're interested - http://rigroganoff.tumblr.com

If you're not, eh.
- a

Super-Productive Day.

I've spent this afternoon watching films, and apparently disproving the theory that I'm butch. I honestly cry at everything - other than not being able to afford it, that's one of the reasons I'll usually say no to the cinema.

I hadn't seen Beauty and the Beast in about eight years, and it used to be my favourite film. Today I cried for the first time while watching it - and no, it wasn't because he looked better as a beast. They always do.
And then - bloody hell. Last night I started watching The Bodyguard, and I have to say, Kevin Costner does grow on you throughout it, so if you haven't seen it, don't write him off at the start. I've just finished watching it now, and the ending is truly awful. It finished with him guarding a bloody priest!

Anyway - watch them both. That's all I've done today. And cried.
What a super-bloody-productive day that was.
- a .

'Fancy English.'

I was just accused of using 'fancy English' because I used the word coherent. teehe!

Get thee to bed, Francisco

Long time, no blog.
Sorry, my lovelies, I'm just feeling a bit crap at the moment, to put it lightly, and nobody really gives a shit about whether or not I post anyway.
I have to finish a graph for tomorrow, but it was due last week. I honestly hate graphs. We have computers, why make us draw them? Especially when mine are usually less than accurate.
Oh, and I have an essay on Hamlet to do for... Tuesday.
Brilliant.
And I've lost every note I've made on the thing.
Bloody brilliant.

I do, however, know Spock's entire dying speech.
Which is something.

- a.

Just watched Valkyrie.

That Hitler dude wasn't all that nice, was he? And is it just me, or have my moobs got bigger?? I bet I've just put more fricking weight on and it's decided to get all up in ma chest. Wait-how would you know about the size of my moobs. Silly question.

Primark tomorrow. Give me a longish length of rope right now and I swear to God I'd do it.

Shit! I hope my moobs haven't got bigger; they might not fit in my work blouse. Great.The last thing I want is to pop out in front of some sweaty chav trying to return a moist 50p t-shirt they bought six months ago without tags or receipts.

Too much information here?

Why are we doing this anyway?

Ok, so the other day I read Bladon's emo blog post about how there's very little point to life and I left a comment attempting to reassure him (though I'm sure it had VERY little effect)that there is a point to life in procreation.

I'm going to go back on that. Throughout our lives we are working and working. We are told to work hard so we can get a good job which will let us work some more for, all in all, very little point. So what if I get a load of money? What's money going to do? Yeah, I can buy a load of pretty stuff, but what's the point in that? I wouldn't even be able to enjoy the worthless material possessions because I'D ALWAYS BE FRIGGING WORKING!!!

Then, if we do have children and continue our species, they're only going to have to work hard so they can find good work to work at to earn moeny which they will have no time to feel the benefit of because they will ALWAYS BE WORKING!

Essentially, we work until we're too old to work, when we have no livlihood, and therefore even less reason to live than we did before. Our bodies pack up and we feel constantly ill.

Then we die.

Every second is a second closer to death. It actually is. I know it's not healthy to think this way, but it's an actual fact.

I hope to God that I find something worthwhile to fill the space between now and inevitable death. We all start off with these big plans, and it looks like the majority of us won't even make it to university at the moment. I would be surprised if more than a very few people actually achieve what they wanted to.

Having said that, perhaps it's good to never be fully satisfied with life, because then you feel the urge to strive for better things. I suppose when you stop feeling the need to better yourself, you truly have no point to life.

So after all that, what I'm ending up saying is that we need to work, because without work we have even less point in this pointless existance. We are stuck in one giant loop of doom.


Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to listen to Gary Jules' version of 'Mad World' and cut myself.

Ok, the ranty pants are officially removed.

Cynicism for the win!

There's some sort of quote from something which says something along the lines of 'Inside every cynic is a disappointed idealist.'

Yeah, I've heard that. I'm not cynical because the world has disapointed me, I'm cynical because I'm a grumpy bastard. I'm a grumpy bastard who enjoys being a grumpy bastard.

So there.

Maybe I am disapointed...who knows? I certainly don't. If Freud were her, he'd put it down to some sort of sexual repression. That's not saying much though. He pretty much put all the world's problems down to incest and sexual repression.

As you can tell, my mind isn't quite awake at the moment, so I can't actaully be arsed to put anything of worth.

Have just been watching 'Braveheart' on Film4, and now cannot repress the urge to say:

"They can take our lives, but they cannot take our FREEEEDOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!" *Insert sound of triumphant Scotts here*

It's a very good film, it really is. There does lie a real problem in that what with all the romanticised notions of the opressed Scotts whoare raped and pilliaged on a daily basis by the English, people tend to forget that the ruling classes did pretty much the same thing to thier own people back in the 14th century (or whatever it was)

Again, there was no point to that. Therefore, as ever, my post ends unsatisfactorily.

"My mum told me not to talk to strangers"

I'm in love.
With Matt Smith.
Mmmmn - Friday night, stood literally less than a metre away from him as he played guitar and sang his little heart out. Let me know if you can think of a better way to spend a Friday night.
So, anyway - I love piercings. It's a well known fact. I was convinced that I'd spotted a tongue piercing while he sang, which just added to his obscene perfection, but El wasn't convinced.
So I tweeted.
And he responded avec:
"@rigrog Haha. Well I dunno if I can say. My mom told me not to talk to strangers."
AND THEN
I was out during this tweet, so I wasn't sure as to whether he'd actually responded to my original one. But it turns out that he tweeted back to me twice while I was in blackpuddle:
"@rigrog You gone quiet now? Lol. How are you? Yes it was a tongue piercing you saw.x"

Matt Smith asked me how I was, I screamed a little in sheer delight, and asked him how he was. So, I'm in a really good mood now.
Also, my favourite film was just on channel four.
Honestly, what isn't attractive about "Thomas Gabriel" in Die Hard 4.0?
He's intelligent, muscular, and unhinged in a really good way.

-A

My apologies for that post. Matt Smith is a beautiful, beautiful man. If he'd started up a twitter conversation with you - well, you'd be just as ecstatic.

Why are all our teachers insane?

Seriously, your guess is as good as mine.

There She Goes, There She Goes Again.

Christ Almighty. Well, prepare to be bored by my agonies. It's happening again. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, but I've had a case of the 'Ooh Mr Darcy's.'

It started with a slight preference, then it moved to the tummy flips. Yes. The Tummy Flips...I've actually used the word 'tummy' in day to day conversation; if you had any human compassion, you'd shoot me now. Put me out of my misery.

Ok, so yesterday, I'm going about my business when the person in question walks past. He catches my eye, and I do a bit of a double take, feel slightly odd. Tummy Flip. God...I hate myself.

I assure myself it was just a momentary thing, just in that split second, something is attractive. Maybe it's the light, I dunno, but nothing important, nothing to set too much store by.

My theory was *ahem* totally proven today, when I walked past the same guy, and exactly the same thing happened.

Yes, I know. Underneath it all I'm just a great big poofter.

Shitey Moses!

I'm just going to have to hope it's a phase, all my adventures into this field end in tears. I'm just going to have to treat it like a Big Issue seller; ignore it and hope it goes away. (Ugh -that was mean of me.) I've been disappointed too many times, and frankly, I've known now, for some time that I'm not meant for this sort of stuff, I invariably make a fool of myself.

I suppose I'm cursed in the fact that everyone I find attractive turns out to be a total wanker and doesn't find me in the least bit attractive, but the men that do find me attractive just so happen to be over thirty...and often bald.

And Here's To 100 More...

So, it's our 100th post, and to commemorate this, I've put together 100 posts worth of sheer awesome from start to finish...

1. "If you fancy contributing to this blog, it means I don't have to, and that suits everyone." - Arran
2. "...now that I have worked out HOW to actually post, I shall stalk it like a bloggy ninja" - Beth
3. "I have just realised, Riggers, that it's slightly sad that we have a blog to which we are the only two followers" - Beth
4. "Oh, and Always Attract has been ruined for me. Fucking chavs." - Arran
5. "I wish I was coming down with a case of the lezzers, because that would be more socially acceptable." - Beth
6. "Surviving February 14th - stay in bed." - Arran
7. "Well, Feb 14th was fun - spent the whole day being proposed to by my many eager suitors. Oh, how my beauty makes me suffer... and how well it becomes me!" - Beth
8. "I'm in Dolphinholme. I see no point in this house; you've got to wear a coat to go to the bloody bathroom." - Arran
9. "We need more subscribers. And if you don't then I'll hunt you down." - Beth
10. "James Watts may have the voice of an angel, but that doesn't stop him from being a..." - Beth
11. "Love is thrown around so much that it doesn't really exist anymore. Yeah, I said it." - Arran
12. "God, that sounds arsey-er than it was intended... I hope this post-script softens the blow." - Beth
13. "I gather something unfortunate is going on in the life of the jordy she-devil. GOOD, I hate her, I hate her music, and I hate her bloody shampoo." - Beth
14. "The one time Disney is historically accurate and it's so crap!" - Beth
15. "And he's gorgeous and spangly and white, and he connects to the internet wirelessly without airport because my baby is magical." - Arran
16. "HI GUYS, I HAVE A NEW BLOG :D - http://ifitmattersatall.blogspot.com" - Arran
17. "Postman Pattitude" - Beth
18. "I can't believe I've never played pretendy guitar on a badminton racket before!" - Beth
19. "Ktschh - I need motivation" - Arran
20. "I'm sat at my desk, half on the mac, half on the pc, music blaring out, chocolate and drugs strewn everywhere, and orangina in one hand because we've run out of coffee." - Arran
21. "Loads of people love you regardless of your never reciprocating it. What's your secret? Other than being thin, pretty and ladylike. Darn all that reciprocally nonsense!!!!!" - Beth
22. "Who do you think you fucking are????? You dell fucker." - Beth
23. "Our house is covered in chocolate, and my mum just said "you girls are in danger of being spoilt by these parishes, you know". OSHIT - does that mean I have to talk to people? Because I don't want them getting the wrong idea." - Arran
24. "I'VE GOT A MINI HETTIE!! It's crap. (At hoovering, but in every other respect it's fantastic)." - Beth
25. "Permission granted to judge me. I'm ashamed of my own tastes." - Arran
26. "Ugggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg." - Beth
27. "I've missed something out. Something other than Ian Watkins' stomach" - Arran
28. "Katie, I had a dream that you were the author of Harry Potter last night. It was odd". - Beth
29. "Arran... I bought La Senza knickers without you" - Beth
30. "You know how much I love the frilly, slutty bit!" - Arran
31. "No fear. I bought a pair of vaguely slutty ones to make up for your not being there" - Beth
32. "I've done no work, I've learnt no spanish, but I'm fucking GINGER, so everything is fine" - Arran
33. "Having had you, Riggers, explain to me what a metrosexual is, I've realised how shit they are compared to proper, steadfast northern, curry eating, quattro driving, fag smoking, pint downing, MEN" - Beth
34. "Note to self: do not fall over, it hurts - rather a lot, to be honest" - Arran
35. "I've got confectionary and Angela Lansbury. YAY LIFE." - Beth
36. "His big blue eyes and nose ring are adorable. I want one" - Arran
37. "My taste in music is just getting unbearable. Even for me" - Arran
38. "OHMYGODILOVEYOUANDWANTYOURBABIES" - Beth
39. "I have a broad spectrum of people to consider, and you're all far too difficult to fit into one package" - Arran
40. "When walking up to school today, little did I know, Arran, that I would later be lifting you over a barbed wire fence while simultaneously trying to unhook your fishnets from aforementioned fence" - Beth
41. "Slipknot have lost an incredible musician, and I just can't imagine how difficult it will be to replace him - he just can't be replaced" - Arran
42. "I found it slightly funny when she said, 'don't get shirty', I was like LOL! THAT'S VAGUELY TOPICAL SINCE WE'RE DISCUSSING UNIFORM! BUT I'M STILL JUSTIFIABLY ANGRY!" - Beth
43. "So we've all heard about my mysterious graze from Gaby's party. I can't remember how I did it, but my knee has been rather unhappy for just over a week" - Arran
44. "Now that the blog has lost its innocence, I'm going to make it a whore!" - Beth
45. "Everyone reading this will know about it... but in a week we're going to have a relaunch, complete with pictures of toilets. Prepare yourselves." - Beth
46. "Are you kidding!? I want to be your girlfriend more than a proton wants to be with a neutron! - Really? That much!?" - Arran
47. "Just coz I don't luurve him anymore doesn't mean I give up perving rights, does it?" - Beth
48. "You know me and my crap advice and unsuitable lustings, I'd be no help anyway" - Arran
49. "I cannot tell you, because there is a very good chance you would die. You would lol your pants off though, I'll say that. I'll probably look back on this and be like: ahhhhhhhhh wtf was I on????? It's pretty bad. It's so bad. It's very bad." - Beth
50. "I have nothing anymore. I was ginger, I had a beautiful ear, and now all I have is my emo cuts behind my leg." - Arran
51. "Are people actually that thick? How can someone get to the age of sixteen and not know the difference between are and our? Not to mention capitalising at the start of sentences!" - Beth
52. "I've learnt to drink plenty of milk because it helps you to scream, and obviously a farmer's favourite drink is Bacardi Breezer" - Arran
53. "Day 5342, I write to you now with little hope of survival. If somebody finds this, then I am long gone. Do with my remains what you will." - Beth
54. "HELLO BOYS. Now, whap on some bang tidy drum 'n' bass for maximum effect whilst I speak" - Arran
55. "Beth, we're giving our readers missions. Christ, we're like, supercool." - Arran
56. "I found myself having a conversation with myself last night that did develop into a prayer of sorts. So I should probably stop with all the blasphemy and shit" - Beth
57. "...many of which involve choosing a random person on the street, subtly following them around and picking up on their various mannerisms and then 'becoming' them. I now have an ASBO." - Beth
58. "Oh no! I've become apathetic! The decent into emodom has begun." - Beth
59. "Oh, tasty guitar man. Put multiple donks on it." - Arran
60. "It makes about as much sense as Gina being faced with a cake and her saying no" - Beth
61. "I absolutely love my ginge, but the roots are killing me a little inside" - Arran
62. "I'm going to be positive and reveal my true feelings because astrology.com told me to" - Arran
63. "Here I am in my La Senza pyjamas and my purple spotty socks. It's a wonder men can keep themselves from jumping on me" - Beth
64. "...hey! Donks is in my dictionary!" - Arran
65. "It takes a lot to be ginger. I obviously don't have what it takes to pull it off" - Arran
66. "There will be food, a volleyball net, music, guitars... if people bring them... if people bring them... aaand a beach. Oh, and alcohol. Obviously." - Arran
67. "Pride and Prejudice doesn't involve time travel" - Beth
68. "I'm going a bit femtastic on you all. I've even bought a dress" - Arran
69. "The only newspaper they sell at the corner shop is The Farmer's Guardian. What. The. Fuck." - Arran
70. "...I am still somehow far more attracted to Tom. Oh, wait  he's blonde and tone deaf. That must be it. Yeah, I know, I have some issues that need to be resolved" - Arran
71. "ARGHHHGH! IT WAS HORRIBLE!!! THEY WERE JUST TALKING AND THEN THEY STARTED KISSING AND GENE HAD A GAY PORN MAG!!!!!" - Beth
72. "I've just boiled the kettle and made packet vanilla latte! Guys, we're on a role today." - Arran
73. "Bobby Udo Shuddup Thomas-Bladon-Rigney was boorn yesterday evening at 19:06pm' - Beth
74. "Fallen on the Floor of the School Toilets is so cool, it's uncool... or is it so uncool that it's cool? Or are they the same thing?" - Beth
75. "I defy anybody not to be slightly aroused now" - Beth
76. "NOT!" - Beth
77. "BETH BETH BETH... CORNETTO HAH" - Arran
78. "Yes, Arran, yes. I deep-throated a cornetto. I only realised the sexual connotations after a certain point, and then it was just funny so I carried on." - Beth
79. "The Becky Party. Bless her, she'll try" - Beth
80. "So you know what, people can just fuck off. They can go back to touching themselves over diagrams of single-celled organisms" - Beth
81. "If she couldn't find me, she'd lie in the hall and meow hopelessly until I shouted her name. Oh, we are a pair" - Arran
82. "Looking through my iPod, I had a sudden feeling of whatthefuckery" - Arran
83. "EXCLUSIVE: North Pier is a TIME WARP!" - Beth
84. "I'm wearing my sunglasses, and I'll be damned if I'm taking them off just because the weather isn't entirely appropriate!" - Arran
85. "Is it just me, or is an intimate dance on a boat full of tourists not exactly the most romantic scene in a romantic comedy?" - Arran
86. "People got very drunk, I didn't get drunk enough, James fell asleep twice before everyone else, I didn't sleep at all, and my phone got seriously fucked up" - Arran
87. "Why can't everyone be more like me? I act like a total arsehole, but do not expect everyone to be like "OHMYGOD BETH IS SLIGHTLY SAD!" - Beth
88. "Yes, that's right - I've got so little to blog about that I now take requests!" - Arran
89. "I'm trying to rewrite Don't Stop Believing about Blackpool-based DIY" - Beth
90. "How many times within one verse of a song should one rhyme 'eyes' with 'eyes'?" - Arran
91. "A paint pot in isle six would colour co-ordinate well with that kitchen from Wickes, for a tenner they can paint the house, it goes on and on and on and on" - Beth
92. "I hate Little Beth. Shut up Little Beth. It makes me feel all intellectual when I'm having an attack of the Ponders" - Beth
93. "Hmmmn...I know, I'll go and do a subject that made me want to stab myself in my ample stomach with a blunt pencil" - Beth
94. "She's not as pretty as she thinks she is, just picture her after she's had kids. Oh, guess who I'm referring to there with those clever lyrics?" - Arran
95. "I'm pretty butch-looking, I've got a deep voice, I over-use the word 'bastard' and have an unhealthy obsession with scotch whiskey! I'm a sixty seven year old bloke!" - Beth
96. "I swear, our insulation works inside out" - Arran
97. "Disney is actually the saviour of all humanity" - Beth
98. "I hate the poofy, creepy, freaky, weirdy, trouser hitching, nipple waggling Masons" - Beth
99. "I aim to force our readers through painfully long blog posts that reach no real conclusion more often" - Arran

100! - If you bother to read our blog, thank you, and sorry about the general lack of sense that goes on. Don't forget to share http://operationsuperfantasmic.blogspot.com with all of your friendies, and give us a shout if you have any ideas.

Here's to 100 more,

- a.

Arran's Manchester-Based Late Night Adventure

Are we sitting comfortably? Good - then I'll begin. This is the story of Tuesday 21st September 2010, and I like to call it "Arran's Manchester-Based Late Night Adventure".

I woke up, as usual, at half six. It's not the best time to wake up, and I don't feel too brilliant for the first hour and a half of my day, especially when it rains as much as it does between half six and half seven in the morning in Dolphinholme. After beautifying, I hopped into the car and was taken to the bus stop for half past seven. The bus was ten minutes late, as usual.

Not much happened on the bus, as usual.

When I walked into my slightly shabby form room, a little bit soggy from the rain, Mady showed me a ticket, and asked me whether I'd got her text.
I checked my phone.
The ticket was for me, because she couldn't go. I, of course, jumped at the chance to see Kenneth Nixon live - who in their right mind wouldn't?

And for the rest of the day, not a lot happened. As usual.

And then I went to get the bus. This is always an exciting time for me, because the bus doesn't arrive at thirty three minutes past three, as the timetable says it should. The bus times are, in fact, completely random. I was hoping that the bus would arrive on time on this particular day, because I needed to get to Preston station for half five - but sod's law wouldn't allow that. The bus was half an hour late.

"Well, that's fine", I thought to myself, because I would still have just about enough time to get to the station if there was somebody to pick me up when I arrived in Cabus. Well, yet again sod's law denied me this, and I had to wait in a car park for someone to arrive to pick me up. They then told me that my dad's car had suddenly become uninsured, and my mum's was falling apart. Hence, it was my dad's decision to drive to Preston very slowly, to prevent anything from falling off my mum's car.

The traffic in Preston was absolutely dire, and it was quarter past six by the time I actually got to the station. The next train was at ten to seven - so I had a while to wait. Of course, sod's law also dictated that I wouldn't have enough money to buy a coffee, so I decided to sit on a bench on the platform and wait for my train.

The story is about to get better, I promise.

Out of the blue, a first year uni student came and sat down next to me, and just talked for ten minutes. Note that I don't know who he is, or why he did it, he just did. And then he gave me his number. I was in a state of whatthefuck about this - because that sort of thing doesn't happen to me, but anyway, then the train arrived.

There were no seats, as dictated by my favourite of all laws, but I didn't mind too much, because the train was actually there.

After finding out that the ginger one had been walking up and down a lengthy Manchester street, I walked down the same lengthy Manchester street with him, and we finally got into the gig - and we weren't even that late.

The gig was honestly like some sort of school trip. The room was filled with 12 year olds and their more than slightly older boyfriends, and family outings. Framing Hanley are good, but I wouldn't exactly call a gig the best place to have a family outing, y'know?

So, the first band played brilliantly, until the guy "sang", which didn't really work for me because he was a bit tone deaf. The second band were pretty good, in a fairly generic way, and Framing Hanley played my two favourite songs, told some bad jokes, and Kenneth Nixon was generally beautiful.

And then we went home. Oh, and there's no need to panic, guys, because the seiciento is insured again :D
I aim to force our readers through painfully long blog posts that reach no real conclusion more often, and I hope that this post was certainly an experience for you all.


Hope that's made up for my lack of posts - it was just as tedious and four times as long as what I usually do!
- A

I have to share this with you.

"I hate the poofy, creepy, freaky, weirdy, trouser hitching, nipple waggiling bloody Masons"

Guess who!?

Disney makes everything Ok.

I don't care what people say about Disney! Disney makes me feel happy. Yeah, they change endings of classic fairy tales to make them all cuddly and that, but frankly that's a good thing.

I'm sorry, but Hans Christian Anderson was a nutjob. He brutally kills the Little Mermaid, so to be honest, I'm perfectly happy with the Disney ending.

Life can't be super-happy-funtime, so we're fucked if our cartoons aren't either. In fact, if you look at it from that perspective, Disney is actually the savior of all humanity. I for one would be dead in a ditch were it not for the catchy music, princess shit and idealistic nonsense it has to offer.

I still think Tinkerbell's a bitch though. How the fuck did that whore end up with her own franchise/shit movie? She basically tried to kill Wendy in Peter Pan, and yet somehow, all is randomly forgiven and the near murderess gets all the glory! Where's Wendy's glory?
I like Wendy; she had to put up with a lot of shit. First she gets kidnapped by a ginger dude in tights, then his fairy friend tries to have her shot, then Peter starts flirting with mermaids who also try to kill her, THEN Peter flirts with Tigerlilly while Wendy is forced into servitude by the random tribe of Native Americans and then, to cap it all, she is nearly killed (AGAIN)by pirates, for no other reason than Peter Pan being in a mood with her. And, to be perfectly honest, if anyone's got a right to be in a mood, it's her. But no, he stays out all night partying with the aforementioned tribe, flirting with Tigerlilly and then comes back like "FUCK YOU WENDY!"

That is one fucked up relationship. To be perfectly honest, it's probably handy that Peter Pan will never grow up, because he'd more that likely become a philandering wife-beater.

Also, heard a good joke today:

A peadophile, an Nazi and a homophobe walk into a bar and the barman says:
"What can I get you, your holiness?"

It's a little bit harder you'll see - letting go of the monster in me --

Hi guuuuys.
Just thought I'd have a wee bit of a vent on here if that's alright with you all?

Everyone's been asking me why I've stayed on at Baines recently, what with me pretty much living in Lancaster right now. Apparently, a bunch of people expected me to whap on back to lggs.
Ha.
As if that would have happened.
I'm not even going to use the excuse about getting on better with guys for this one.
It's blatantly obvious that me and lggs were not a good mix. I mean, there's this one person who I've known since I was six, and we haven't spoken since... before easter. I've made attempts, but it seems as though she's avoiding me.
Which is a bit upsetting, really.

I think I'm just in a really bad mood because my chemistry homework was a bit of a bitch today.
Oh, and it's bloody freezing here, so I'm sat in bed with several layers on and the electric blanket.
I swear, our insulation works inside out.

- A x

So what am I politically?

Just did this test on politicalcompass.org to see what's going on with my political leanings. I'm still none the wiser. Please don't tell me I'm a poofy liberal! Am I a poofy liberal? It did get me thinking though, what do I even believe in? By that graph I'm clearly leaning to one side rather than the other but not in a dramatic way. I suppose that's good... I'm not Hitler, but I'm also not that...that...that communist one.

Help please? The test is good to take actually. It's at www.politicalcompass.org I've always been more of Gordon Brown's bitch than one of Cameron's masonic homies, but I'm not entirely sure what to call myself.

And thus I am brought neatly to our need to label everything. What's wrong with sitting at home listening to The Smiths? What's wrong with being 'just like everyone else?' Yes, one shouldn't be led by the crowd, but if you genuinely enjoy something that everyone else happens to like, then why should you sacrifice your enjoyment just to be different? Isn't being an anti-trend following another trend?

Also Riggers, I think we have misjudged the one to which you refer. I know that I have a tendency to be judgemental, and I think that's what's happened with her. We never stop to consider the fact that perhaps the reason people are universally liked is because they're actually nice; maybe they deserve to be universally liked. Imagine how people judge us! I know Beth Smith's convinced I'm a lesbian, and you can sort of see where she's coming from.

I'm pretty butch-looking, I've got a deep voice, I over-use the word bastard and have an unhealthy obsession with Scotch Whiskey! I'm a sixty-seven year old bloke! I would like to clear up, once and for all, that I'm not actually a lesbian,(the knee-licking incident aside,) although sometimes I imagine it'd be a lot easier to be in a relationship with a woman than it would with a man. No, I find men far too endearing to get over-friendly with the ladies. They're so cute with their awkwardness and floppy hair and stubble! *.*

Yeah, sorry girls, but I'm off limits. It's Ok, I won't judge you if you cry.

Between you and me, guys our age are a bit spazzy at the moment. There's nothing wrong with widening your radar...No, sorry I can't keep it up anymore; I'm only saying that because only men in their late twenties/early thirties/mid thirties are desperate enough to find me attractive! XD

You know that bald dude who kept trying to ply me with vodka at the bar? The one who was about three foot seven? I subtly hinted about my age by mentioning the GCSE results I'd just got? Well he basically went:"You're sixteen?" and then carried on looking smug. That was right before he tried to introduce me to his friend 'Manky Pete' who was pissed as a fart and kept staring at my chest. Happy days.

She's not as pretty as she thinks she is - just picture her after she's had kids :D

Oh, guess who I'm referring to there with those clever lyrics.
Sorry - she brings out the absolute worst in me.
I know, I'm a bit of a bitch.
Sorry.

So, I pretty much don't blog anymore?
I was like, the original blogger, and I sustained it when everyone else gave up.
But now I booth instead because it doesn't take as long T_T
But I always link back to this blog, so I'm keeping it going. In a way.

http://dailybooth.com/rigrog

WHY??? WHY??? WHY?

WHY DID I TAKE ENGLISH LANGUAGE! WHY? I was shit at it for GCSE! What posessed me to be like: "Hmm...I know, I'll go and do a subject that made me want to stab myself in my ample stomach with a blunt pencil."

It's not even like I can drop it. If I attempt to, then my mother will kill me.

Well, in other news, Little Beth is still contemplating the meaning of life. I can't even take my own freakin' advice! There is no point in it, because I'll only find out if there's an afterlife when I'm dead. And if there is an afterlife, it's not like I'll be able to tell anyone about it. If there's no afterlife, then I'll be far too dead to register that there is no afterlife. I suppose that's something.

Why do I still have Harry Potter stickers in my room? Seriously, why? If I could find something tha would connect my phone to the laptop, then I'd display the odd stickers. They're not even realistic stickers either. I've got one of Hermionie on a broom. Hermionie hates brooms! D:

I know I seem to be flicking from subject to subject a lot in this, so I'll apologise for thatm before continuing right on.

Just FYI, I'm wearing a spongebob nightie! That's just so that you can perfect the image of lovliness that is me, sat at my desk. No make-up, general obesity and my wierd nose are making me look pretty damn hot right now....YEAH!

Don't worry, be happy

There's always the temptation to over-think stuff. I get it a lot, but I've learned, gradually to switch it off. It's bloody annoying when the little Beth in my brain is like: "Yo, Beth, wanna contemplate shit? What if there's no afterlife? WAIT! What if there IS an afterlife! :o"

I hate Little Beth. Shut up Little Beth. It makes me feel all intellectual when I'm having an attack of the Ponders, but then I realise that there's no point in contemplating life the universe and everything, because after a while I'd go insane.

Insane=Not good
Sane=Good.

If you become to wrapped up in thoughts, you then become self obsessed. Yeah, I know human nature is to be selfish, but fuck it! I'm going to stick with the values that Disney/society has conditioned me to believe in!

Always remember, if in doubt:

Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sunsweet berries of the Earth
Come roll in all the riches all around you
And for once, never wonder what they're worth

The rainstorm and the river are my brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
And we are all connected to each other
In a circle, in a hoop that never ends

How high will the sycamore grow?
If you cut it down, then you'll never know
And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon

For whether we are white or copper skinned
We need to sing with all the voices of the mountains
We need to paint with all the colours of the wind

You can own the Earth and still
All you'll own is Earth until
You can paint with all the colours of the wind


If this doesn't work, you can always use the fact that the word 'brothers' in the first line of the second verse can be very easily substituted for 'Bum Chums' for easy lols and for minimal effort.

Introducing: Don't stop revealin'

She's a south shore girl
Livin' in a lonely world
She took the late-night bus goin' to Homebase

he's a Cleveleys boy
raised near the co-op in Thornton
He took the late-night bus goin' to Homebase

A paint pot in isle six
Would colour-coordinate well with that kitchen from Wikes
For a tenner they can paint the house
It goes on and on and on and on

Strangers fighting
Up and down the Gardener's yard
Their shadows searching in the night
Homebase people
Living just to find emulsion
Hiding somewhere in the night

Working hard for my paint refill
We're after Dulux daffodil
Payin' anything to paint the hall
just one more time

Some paint we'll take and some paint we'll leave
colour coordinated with the help of a Homebase employee called Steve.
The home-improvement never ends
it goes on and on and on and on

Strangers fighting
Up and down the Gardener's yard
Their shadows searching in the night
Homebase people
Living just to find emulsion
Hiding somewhere in the night

(awesome instrumental)

Don't stop retrievin'
the equipment for your textured ceiling
Homebase peo-o-ople

Don't stop recievin'
paint so cheap you'll think you're thieving
Homebase peo-o-ople

Don't stop revealing'
perfect walls that keep exceeding
Homebase peo-o-ople

Don't stop revealin'

Homebase people

Emergency, Call 911 - She's Pissed Off At Everyone

If you do not own a copy of The Young and the Hopeless by Good Charlotte, shame on you!
It has to be their best album to date, and I've just realised that it isn't on Spotify U_U

Okay - so I've got no idea as to exactly what is wrong with our homehub right now, because there's generally always something wrong with the damned thing. At the moment, I'm displaying tweets, booths and emails from last night - nothing from today yet. Normally by now I'd have at least 5 emails - 3 from Astrology.com T_T - and at the moment I have nothing. I honestly cannot stand Dolphinholme. The lack of signal seems to be fucking with my phone a bit too.

In other news - my camera, the gorgeous and beautiful Taylor, is dead. I can't get it to work at all, and I don't think there's much point in doing a lot with him - he's already lasted me seven years, I think it may be time to put him down. So, my question to you, my children, is where do we go from here? I'm on a budget of £50, because a vicar's income is surprisingly little, so no pretty DSLRs for me - I just want something that takes pictures. Here's a couple of super fun links for you all (all two of you!) --

This is just incredible. You don't know how much I want this -
http://www.amazon.co.uk/HELLO-Digital-Camera-Hello-Kitty/dp/B002IGK1WQ/ref=pd_sim_sbs_ce_4

This one seems pretty brill for the money -
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Vivitar-iTwist-Megapixel-Digital-Camera/dp/B003KJ0CC4/ref=sr_1_210?ie=UTF8&s=electronics&qid=1282737217&sr=1-210

And this one is just a nice colour :) -
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Vivitar-Vivicam-Megapixel-Digital-Camera/dp/B003OWDSMS/ref=sr_1_116?ie=UTF8&s=electronics&qid=1282909003&sr=1-116

That's it for cameras... I can't stand to trawl through Amazon for that long.
So - I shall leave you with a query.

How many times, within one verse of a song, should one rhyme "eyes" with "eyes"?


http://twitter.com/rigrog
http://ifitmattersatall.blogspot.com
http://dailybooth.com/rigrog



When I see her eyes look into my eyes then I realised that she could see inside my head - So I close my eyes thinking that I could hide...

Answer: A few too many.

Hilarious Primary School Memories

Having gone to Poulton C of E, we were made to sing Jesus songs in assembly. A particular one always used to make me giggle. It was 'We have a King who rides a donkey'. Basically, it was to the tune of 'what do you do with a drunken sailor,' which, to be honest, only invites the sort of tomfoolery that I'm going to talk about. So this song went:

We have a King who rides a donkey,
We have a King who rides a donkey,
We have a King who rides a donkey,
And his name is Jesus,

Sing sing loud hosannas,
Sing sing loud hosannas,
Sing sing loud hosannas,
And his name is Jesus.

I'm sorry, but that only encourages kids like me to deviate slightly from the words. It doesn't take much of an imagination to change the above into the below:

We have a King who rides a donkey,
We have a King who rides a donkey,
We have a King who rides a donkey,
And his name is Jesus,

Stick him in the scuppers with a hose pipe on him,
Stick him in the scuppers with a hose pipe on him,
Stick him in the scuppers with a hose pipe on him,
And his name is Jesus.

God I had spare time on my hands as a child.

On a similar note, I'm trying to rewite 'Don't stop believing' about Blackpool-based DIY...

She's a south shore girl
Livin' in a lonely world
She took the late-night bus goin' to Homebase

he's a Cleveleys boy
raised near the co-op in Thornton
He took the late-night bus goin' to Homebase

A paint pot in isle six
Would colour-coordinate well with that kitchen from Wikes
For a tenner they can paint the house
It goes on and on and on and on

Strangers fighting
Up and down the gardner's yard
Their shadows searching in the night
Homebase people
Living just to find emulsion
Hiding somewhere in the night

Hmm I'm not sure it's going all that well...comments/help would be welcome.

And You'll Never Know, Never Get It Right

13 posts to 100
- well, 12 after this.
I decided to go through and delete every draft, seeing as they aren't visible.
For the 100th post, we should probably do half a post each. Although, let's face it, we're not really organised enough for that to work out.

I've just been watching The Matrix Revolutions - shock horror, the trilogy is actually one of my favourites, and it isn't anything to do with Keanu Reeves... - and the tuneage during the credits took me right back to year seven. A few of us entered a choreography competition with the cultural influence of greek mythology, and we did it to that music.
Good times...
So, anyway - there was this brilliant line about Love being a word, rather than an emotion, and it's the feelings that are tied to it, rather than the word itself that means something...
Hah - read my previous rant regarding the overuse of the term, and the commercialisation of it, and you'll understand my reasoning when I say that I find that definition absolutely perfect.

In other news, I'm hoping to buy a webcam at some point in the near future that is mac compatible - so hopefully we'll get a few more illustrated posts going on, and on Ky's request, I will finally post a few photographs of my incredible walls of brilliance that I've been working on for the past few months.
Yes, that's right - I've got so little to blog about that I now take requests!
http://twitter.com/rigrog
http://ifitmattersatall.blogspot.com
http://dailybooth.com/rigrog

- A x

God I hate some people

The above is my comment upon Wuthering Heights.

On with the rant.

Why do people believe that other people honestly give a shit about them? You have to earn people's respect/care/giving a shit, and chances are, people why THINK everyone cares about what's going on in their lives will not have EARNED people's care. Two words: SELF. ABSORBED.

Why do some people act like total arseholes and then expect people to give a shit when they're having a crisis? Why can't everyone be more like me? I act like a total arsehole, but do not expect everyone to be like: "OHMYGOD BETH IS SLIGHTLY SAD!"

The more perceptive amongst you will know who I'm talking about.

Ahhnnyway, check out the Willy Goblin site when you're free.



We'll be coming up to 100 posts soon, won't we? Let's make the next 100 even better!

'splozions dun go boom --

Other than that, what do I say about Thursday night?
Well, I'll get back to that after Wednesday... :D

On Wednesday, I went to see Enter Shikari at 53 Degrees in Preston. Have to say - it isn't exactly a brilliant venue. I love the fact that there's two levels to it, but the level for the majority of the crowd is just too small - there isn't enough space for everyone.
Wednesday night began when I was sat on the floor of the station car park in Blackpool with Matt, waiting for Liam. We saw Beth, Katie & James, and Matt shouted "James!" about twenty times.
James didn't hear him.
Then, we got on the train. That was interesting.
And whilst we waited to go inside, we met many wonderful people who were also stood in the "circle of queue". One marker pen seemed to be used by everyone in the queue, and as tradition goes, I wrote on Matt's stomach, which is really quite strange. A slightly drunk girl then told me that I was pretty, which was an ego boost. Oh, and we saw Michael! Then she told me that I look like Hayley Williams. T_T
So, when we got in, Shikari were pretty good, but The King Blues - ohmygod. They were just incredible, and it was brilliant to hear the entire crowd singing along to some really powerful lyrics.
And then someone ripped out my nose stood.
And then when we got out of the gig, someone proved that he had the capacity to be a nice person.
Whatthefuck.

And then a la Gina's - people got very drunk, I didn't get drunk enough, James fell asleep twice before everyone else did, I didn't sleep at all, and my phone got seriously fucked up.
Oh, and we were all put in direct danger by a lantern.
We are just so hardcore, it's untrue.

Bye bye babies - talk soon :)
- A x

I'M HOME :D

Hello my lovelies :)
Just thought I'd let you know that I'm back - and I hope to see all three of you very soon. Well, maybe.

Also - is it just me, or an intimate dance on a boat full of tourists not exactly the most romantic scene in a romantic comedy? Just wondering, because I mean, honestly, script writers weren't always as brilliant as they are now. Ha!

Come and see me for jingly bracelets from Camden :)
Loves :)
- A x

Whilst I'm away...

Oh christy - now I tweet AND booth. I'm just that sad.
So, whap yourselves over to
http://dailybooth.com/rigrog
For your daily photograph of me enjoying this beautiful weather (I'm wearing my sunglasses, and I'll be damned if I'm taking them off just because the weather isn't entirely appropriate!)
And heeeere...
http://twitter.com/rigrog
Just because :)

So, I'll see everybody next week ^^
Still haven't got Gina a present, 100% skint, and I need to buy gig tickets.
Hell yes.
- A x

EXCLUSIVE: North Pier is a TIME WARP!

At the airshow in Blackpool today, spectators on North Pier were shocked to see a child from the late 60's/early 70's appear.

Seriously though, this kid was like not from this time! He had a neckerchief, for Christ's sake! What are they doing having North Pier as a platform for various 'gypsies' (seriously, if that woman is a real clairvoyant, then I'm a horse's todger.) when Blackpool could make billions of pounds from the fact that there is a portal to the past slap-bang on the coast-line!

God, imagine all the trendy wine bars it'd bring!

You will fly and you will crawl - god knows even angels fall;;

Honestly - my taste in music has hit rock bottom. I can't even call it a taste anymore. Looking through my iPod, I had a sudden feeling of whatthefuckery.

So, unless something massive happens before I go to Camden for the week, this might be my last blog before I go away - and let's face it, nothing is likely to happen whilst I'm stuck in Dolphinholme. I'm desperately hoping that the house will have wifi, because otherwise the only contact you'll get from me is from internet cafes - and I expect to receive texts to keep me sane, because you all love me, and my sister is determined to spend the entire week around horses.

Agh - fucking bloody... agh, fuck.
I'm cooking tomorrow and I haven't sorted out the bloody shopping list.
Fuck.

And I'm surprised that you've never been told before - that you're lovely, and you're perfect, and that somebody wants you...

Lengthy title there, but I was just watching 10 Things I Hate About You for the second time this week. After seeing it at least once a month for the past 2/3 years, I still haven't pushed myself past the poem at the end - I don't think anybody's ever sat and watched a film like that with me, you know, properly - but I just can't handle them. I'm really much softer than you'd think...
But I keep on watching that film because it has a brilliant soundtrack - and Heath Ledger. The hopelessly romantic bad boy.
Yes please.

I really don't think I'm enjoying Dolphinholme - neither is Kitty.
I was left for two nights, three days whilst everyone popped up to Scotland to see my aunt, and it got quite lonely up here with no transport. Kitty obviously felt it too, as she literally followed me wherever I went, and sat on my feet whenever I stood still. If she couldn't find me, she'd lie in the hall and meow hopelessly until I shouted her name. Oh, we are a pair.

I haven't played my guitar properly in about a month - I'm going to give it a go tomorrow, but at the moment I'm just not feeling it.
I think living in the country has sent me into a downward spiral. When I ordered my mushroom hoodie, and my mum told me that I'd have to stay in on the Wednesday (I ordered it on Monday) in case it arrived - I was completely astounded to hear that something could get to Dolphinholme in such a short amount of time. We're only about fifteen minutes away from Lancaster - you've no idea how much I've had to remind myself of this.

Oh - and I've run out of reading material again. As much as Neil Gaiman is truly a literary genius, I can't read his comics more than three times a week.
So, yes - I'm reading Bridget Jones - The Edge Of Reason. Honestly, I need to get out of this bloody house.
Fuck Dolphinholme and the backwards insulation that we seem to have.
- A x

THOROUGHLY PISSED AGAIN!

You know what. I'm fucking sick of people. I don't even want to bloody go into it. Some people are so up their own arse that they think everyone totally loves them. I'm not bloody interested in their sad little lives, why don't THEY read MY fucking blog, if they're interested? What the actual hell? They need space? Yeah, space for their big head!

Why don't certain people think before publically putting someone down. Perhaps consider the slightest possiblity that they might have been wrong. OH NO, WAIT! I forgot. They're never wrong, are they?

So you know what, people can just fuck off. They can go back to touching themselves over diarams of single-celled organisms.

In other news...

Arran, where have you been recently? D: The blog looks empty without your McFly lyrics! Come back to us Riggers!

Whatever I said,
Whatever I did,
I didn't mean it,
I just want you back for good.

(Want you back, want you back,)
I JUST WANT YOU BACK FOR GOOD!

Check out Becky's awesome campaign poster!

SAM:"I'm the negotiator!"

GENE: I'll make you a hat.

Ahh LoM. Classic shiz there.

Yes, Arran, yes. I deep-throated a Cornetto. I only realised the sexual connotations after a certain point, and then it was just funny so I carried on.

I've got an idea. We should play some sort of role-swapping game. What about you have to do something I do for a week and vise-versa?

You could watch series one and two of LoM, and I could listen to the Darkout or whatever sort of stuff you do that I wouldn't be a massive fan of. It would give us something to blog about...

That at the top there is the image you couldn't see of formspring.

"He made me do things!" -- "What? Like shopping?"

The Mighty Boosh is truly wonderful. I've watched the box set four times in two days.
I need to get out.
So, if I start talking more rubbish than usual - it's the Boosh speaking. Not me.

In other news - my camera is broken. Again. T_T
I think it was when we moved - I haven't used it since then. My dad just threw it into a box - i think it may have been switched on at the time.
AND NOW IT DOESN"T WORK.
Sod's law though - I was looking at cameras on the Argos website the other day, but decided that a new one just wasn't worth it. Then my camera broke. After I'd spent all of my money on birthday presents and piercings.

Ugh - and now bloody Messenger:Mac is being a bit of a bitch too.
Honestly!

Oh - and the parents and smallish sister are away for two nights. They're trusting me on my own. I'm going to be bored to bloody tears. If anybody fancies staying at the vicarage for a couple of nights, you're more than welcome to. I seem to have become a domestic goddess in a fortnight, too - so we'd be set for food, washing, ironing, cleaning - y'know. The things you do when you can't get out.
Oh and Guitar Hero.

And whilst we're here:
BETH BETH BETH...

...CORNETTO. HAH.

That's all.
- A x

Well that went well...

NOT!

Try not to get too horny now ladies...and you Bladon

I defy anybody not to be slightly aroused now.

Our blog is like WELL elite.

Just now I noticed, Riggers, that we only have seven followers and very few comments. My first thought was that 'Fallen on the floor of the school toilets' is not the massive hit we had anticipated and that it is totally uncool, but then I realised how wrong I was.

Our blog is so ELITE that only seven people are worthy to subscribe to it, and even fewer are cool enough to actuallly comment on any of the posts we very kindly bestow upon them. And, furthurmore, (I thought) All those bands that Arran likes are uncool, because few people like them, so therefore cool. But the moment people begin to like them, they will become cool so therefore uncool.

Fallen on the Floor of the School Toilets is so cool, it's uncool...or is it so uncool that it's cool? Or are they the same thing?

All I know is that it's good. Some might say its superfantasmic.

And anyway, how can anything with a picture of Katie's head superimposed upon Keely Hawes' (and then flipped so it looks like she's looking up at Philip Glenister) ever be bad?

Anyone else see why I have a thing for the Hunt now? (when I say the Hunt, I don't mean some kind of wierd fox hunting fettish, I mean the Guv, the Manc Lion, Hunt the Cunt. DCI Gene Hunt!-just thought I'd clear that up...)

If you don't see why I have a thing for Hunt now, then do say, and I will do my best to explian it to you, possibly in the form of a spider-diagram, because as 21st Century teenagers, we do not understand anything unless it's got pretty colours in it.

See? I bet you're understanding this far more than you have anything else...

...AND ANOTHER THING!

Yes. That's right, Beth is pissed off.

I may have apologised for something that I may have done a while ago, which was not entirely my fault. So I put myself out and apologised.

What's quite hurtful is that the person in question didn't even acknowledge that I'd said anything. I could understand if they didn't accept my apology, but to ignore it entirely...?

Oh yes, and in lighter news yesterday, our beautiful baby boy was born, if a few weeks premature, weighing in at 7lb, 6oz.

Bobby Udo Shuddup Thomas -Bladon -Rigney was born yesterday evening at 19:06 PM

Surrogate Mother and baby both well :D

What is it? It's IT!

Hello there my lads and ladettes!
The room is literally jumping, because I've hooked up my bass booster to my docking station, and it's a wee bit on the enthusiastic side, and I've just boiled the kettle and made packet vanilla latte! Guys - we're on a roll today.

SO - the other night Beth and I decided that we must do something about our preferences, guy wise. Me, because I like guys who would quite happily get with your dad if given half the chance - although its not my fault that I like well groomed men. Beth seems to like quite the opposite - we're on extreme ends of the line here. So, I've tried to find somebody who's very attractive and not femtastic. I'll shout when I have someone in mind...

I've just managed to play the introduction to Three Cheers For Five Years by Mayday Parade :D - Now I'm going to learn the rest --
- A x

The bitch is back

I know I haven't boggified in ages, so I'd just like to say hi.

So yeah...hi.

So I'm really not writing and reading quite a lot of fanfiction at the moment, just in case you were wondering, and I haven't accidentally read one in which Gene Hunt gets it on with Sam Tyler. I didn't cry. I didn't want to burn my own eyes out of my head. Not in the slightest.

ARGHHHGH! IT WAS HORRIBLE!!! THEY WERE JUST TALKING AND THEN THEY STARTED KISSING AND GENE HAD A GAY PORN MAG!!!! DX

It's not fair!!! Why is the entire internet communtiy out to make me kill myself?

So, hold me close and say three words like you used to do...

MR BRIGHTSIDE... by MCFLY?! - Actual love. I think I screamed when I found this.
Danny's vocals are far superior to Tom's - yet I am still somehow far more attracted to Tom. Oh, wait - he's blonde and tone-deaf. That must be it. Yeah, I know, I have some issues that need to be resolved T_T

AND speaking of tone deaf, I'm playing my guitar again. And I still can't sing at the same time :( - I'm female, I should be able to multitask. I mean - today I was essentially the original domestic goddess - cleaned the woodwork, cooked dinner, started sewing together some cushion covers - but singing and playing the guitar at the same time is somehow alien to me. Damn. And I can play Anyone Else But You without fault now. Or, at least one part - the suggestion to try both parts at the same time failed for me.

Why does Danny have to overshadow Tom? Honestly - some people.
- A x

And I will answer all your wishes - if you asked me toooo...

Nobody blogs anymore, or reads our blog, so I think I'm safe to rant.

Vicar is wondering why I've been so down since we moved on Tuesday. It doesn't take a bloody genius to work it out. It could be because the countryside does not agree with me - my hayfever has started up again, hooray! - or the amount of painting I've been doing has finally caught up with me and my back is pretty much killing me - I blame my sister for that one, this is the third colour her room has been - and then again, it may be that our BT Homehub is possibly the post failuriffic wireless provider we could possibly have invested in. I was setting up my sister's desktop in her room today, and although it picked up the hub, it wouldn't connect. The same thing happened with the netbook when I tried to connect that too. The laptops will only connect when in a certain position, and although I was elated to find that I'd fixed up the airport on my mac without spending any money on it, I have to go through the OpenZone at the corner shop, turn airport off, and then connect to another network before it even recognises the hub. Oh, but for some reason I have a little fridge in my room, so that's a plus.
Now I need a kettle.
Oh, and alcohol -_-
Yeah - and I'm living out of boxes because apparently we forgot that I needed something to put my clothes in. Well done.
And I have no signal.
And Oli is on his last legs.
And all the money I've got left over will be spent ferrying myself over to Poulton.
Oh, Arran - why are you so down at the moment?
That's why.
Oh, and the only newspaper they sell at the corner shop is the farmer's guardian.
What. The. Fuck.
And I'm bloody freezing.
Effing country folk. I need a coffee.

End Rant

She's got a lip ring and five colours in her hair...

No, she hasn't. Because her mother dislikes lip rings far too much to allow one...
Although I am planning on getting my nose done in about a fortnight - so that should be fun. Shout if you know of anywhere cheap and sanitary where I could get it done.

So, right now, I'm packing.
And crying.
Because I don't like packing - and my room is like a bloody sauna -_-

And yes, that was McFly in the title - I'm going a bit femtastic on you all. I've even bought a dress. I don't quite know how I'm going to wear it - I haven't worn a dress without an occasion in about six years, so that should be fun.
You can all enjoy that next week at the beach.
Because I expect you all to be there - and if you're not, I'll cry.
We will have food, volleyball and little tent things :3

Ugh - packing.
- A x

Pride and Prejudice doesn't involve time travel

I have just spent the last half an hour trying to convince Laura Wood that Ashes to Ashes is a more beautiful love story than Pride and Prejudice. I was totally right. Really.

BEACH BASH

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=131181563570330#!/event.php?eid=131181563570330

THAT is where you should go to RSVP.
And if you don't have facebook, text me.

There will be food, a volleyball net, music, guitars... if people bring them... aaand a beach. Oh, and alcohol. Obviously.

LOVESSS
And if you don't come - I'll probably cry.

Arran xx

8MM YES :D

Yeahhh - I'm finally at 8mm. It was a bitch compared to my 6mm, but I am at my goal diameter. And I now actually own my own stretcher! It's a discounted one, at that. A pound off because he couldn't remember the price. Oh, happy days.

SO - I've dyed my hair again D:
And - what's that? It now looks fairly average! I couldn't, of course, dye it black, blonde and blue, because SOMEBODY ELSE has just dyed it black and gone crazy with the bleach on it. And I mean, this was literally like, a week after I'd posted that I was going to do that. She's so indie it's fucking scary ¬¬
My hair is now a sort of... light brown, with blonde in the front, and some slightly gingery but not quite good enough bits in the front. Of course, it takes a lot to be ginger. I obviously don't have what it takes to pull it off.

What else...
Oh, yeah. I've just found pictures of Tom & Harry from Mcfly and put them up on my wall...
There's something a little bit wrong about that, but I obviously have something about attractive blonde guys and drummers that needs sorting.

Why are people never online when you actually need them? ¬¬

More later,
- A x

I like the way you say hello -- I like the way your hair is yellow :3

I Like My Girlfriend by Amy Can Flyy is a fantastic song. Listen.
So, just a very quick post today - can't miss too much of "Batman Returns".

There seems to be a wave of breakups going on at the moment - I'd predicted some of them, but one or two are quite sad, really. So, I propose that we lock James and Cain up somewhere until the wave has finished, you know, with spontaneous supervision - just so they can't get away with anything.

Ech -- I'm going to end up going out tomorrow for that bottle of peroxide... can't quite bring myself to do it right now. I'm getting very into this Batman Returns :D

Put multiple donks on it,
- A x


--hey! Donks is in my dictionary!

I'm yer Venus, I'm yer fire.

Here I am in my La senza pyjamas and my purple spotty socks. It's a wonder men can keep themselves from jumping on me.

I have waxed myself in places I do not wish to wax again over the last couple of days, mind you, I do feel smoother than a baby's arse. Mind you, except for the armpit stubble. ¬¬

I HATE UNDERARM STUBBLE! I'm sorry, but you shave/wax it, then you look down two minutes later and it goes straight bad to looking like Lenin's face.

Oh, here's a tip if you're ever stupid enough to wax: it is impossible to get off, the only thing that works is baby oil. I have used an entire bottle of 'Johnson's baby bedtime oil' and rubbed it all over my legs, (and God knows where else!) It must have looked like a cheap porno. A VERY cheap porno if I was the only star they could find.

You want to wash now, don't you? You want to forget that image. How d'you think I feel!!!! DX

The cosmos is busy with planetary activity!

Remind me not to click links from msn --
I mean, even if it's from somebody undeniably awesome. I end up signing myself onto ridiculous mailing lists and receiving hilarious emails such as this one from "astrology.com" - and people wonder why I don't read my emails...

"Dear Arran,

The cosmos is busy with planetary activity as Venus gets ready to move out of emotionally self-protective Cancer into openly entertaining and fun-loving Leo on June 14 to stay there until July 9.

Leo is the sign of the burning heart and with affectionate, sociable Venus in place it will be a time for romance, fun, frivolity and flamboyant parties. Venus in a Fire sign is never backwards about coming forward to express feelings or fancies. So whatever reservations or shyness has been holding you back will now be swept to one side. There might be a greater willingness for some of us to express our affections more openly as well as take risks in matters of the heart. This transit may also find you in a very generous mood.

Flirtatious Uranus which dislikes restraints of any variety is in an easy trine (120 degrees) to Venus on June 14 as well so who knows what may happen? You certainly won’t feel held back by considerations of what anyone else thinks. In long-term relationships there will be a chance to explore new activities and let a breath of fresh air blow through what has become stale.

Venus then is in trine to Jupiter on June 15, which is sugary sweet and amiable. You’ll want to gloss over difficulties, smooth off rough edges and be positive."

So, guys - I'm going to be positive and reveal my true feelings, because astrology.com told me to! :D

And to finish off my Aston-Kutcher-gasm, did anybody else know he can skate!? Seriously - full on perfection going on there.

Put multiple donks on it,

- A x    

I can't have one more day without you in my arms -

A1!!!
I need to do something this week. I'm listening to A1. It's a sign of growing insanity, quite seriously.

Of course, I plan to do something with my hair this week, and I'm a little bit worried about it, to be honest. I absolutely love my ginge, but the roots are killing me a little inside, so I'm going to try and stay ginger for a while by bleaching my roots. Which will be FUN. Just a bit worried that it won't work, and I'll end up with a completely different colour on top, so if if does all get a bit cocked up, don't be surprised if I go back to black earlier than I'd originally planned.

And I could also do with doing some hardcore IT revish this week, seeing as I'll be lucky to scrape a B at the moment, despite my aims for an A. Must revise for IT... remind me if you speak to me, otherwise it won't get done.

I think I cut my nails too short, my fingers hurt...
Matthew Davies may be beautiful, but he's not worth this. And my co-ordination is shocking. I can't sing and play the guitar at the same time, and that's not just Anyone Else But You, because that's a duet, it's this bloody one that I can't work out the last chord to. Of course, I could work it out if I could sing it whilst playing it.
But I can't.
So that's not going to happen.

Put multiple donks on it,
- A x

What the batting hell?

I just watched 'Batman: The Dark Knight' for the first time. What the fuck? It makes about as much sense as Gina being faced with a cake and her saying no.

One minute Morgan Freeman (who shall from her on in be referred to as God) is like:

"Woo deh Batman is like a great big batty symbol of hope for deh peeps of Gothem"

and then five minutes later he's going :

"Oh Batman, you is a proper twat and everything. It's well pervy to use people's mobiles to prevent them from dying."

And I swear to Morgan Freeman (see what I did there! ^^) that at least one this line appeared in the film:

"Gothem doesn't want the hero, but Gothem should have the hero it
deserves, and when we die, we become the grass; the antelope eat the grass,and it all enters
into the great circle of life.
But anyway Bruce, it's not
what we're born, but what we grow to
be."

Truly a confusing film

By the way: I'm not entirely sure: Gothem or Gotham?