I miss my entertainment box

I was thinking about how I miss watching tellie, as we havent had one since we left home in March . . . .  I miss it so much I even miss watching the continuous droves of mindless advertisements that rudely interrupt our viewing pleasure.

Sometimes I would even trade the uncomfortable mind numbing silence for the good old "Doors Plus" or "Retra Vision" advertisement jingles playing on constant repeat.

Which lead me to think about my favourite all time TV Ads  . . . . .


Like the Woolies Macro Organic produce ad -

And this legendary Pure Blonde ad -

And the Evian Water ad -

And this EPIC Carlton Draught ad

Who needs television programs when the ads are just as entertaining


hmmmm . . . . . suddenly I feel like drinking a Pure Blonde, a Carlton Draught and a bottle of Evian Water, and I may need to pop down to the shop for some Macro Organic produce and my very own tambourine - strange

London Transport - Mind the Gap - Its Ginormous

The other night Halz and I went on a lovely ladies dinner out, we decided to head to Miller & Carter in Chelmsford (http://www.millerandcarter.co.uk/) to do this its normally 2 small train trips one from Brentwood to Shenfield and then from Shenfield to Chelmsford, no big drama.


N O T . T H I S . T I M E


When we got to the ticket counter at Brentwood station the dude mentioned that the Chelmsford service is via Billericay today . . . . we smiled and nodded, "no worries", purchased our tickets and wandered off to the platform to wait for the train.

Train came, we arrived in Shenfield, hopped on another to Billericay, jumped off the train and looked for the information screen to advise us of which platform the train to Chelmsford will arrive on . . . .  . EPIC FAIL  . . . . . there is no freaking train to Chelmsford - Ashley starts to panic a little

After wandering around the station for a short while, we bumped into a station staff member, with a quick murmur of "Chemsford?" she pointed towards another staff member standing down the far end of the platform

. . . at this point it felt a little like one of those scavenger hunts, where will we go next?

Asked the lonely guy at the end of the platform where we go to get to Chelmsford and he pointed to a massive line of busses parked outside the station with a million other confused commuters packed around them


A W E S O M E


We wander around repeating the the word "Chelmsford" and being bounced from staff member to staff member, bus to bus untill finally we get to a big blue bus with the word CHELMSFORD printed on its window - Woooppeeeee, Finally!!

We go to jump on and the driver stops us at the door "Sorry girls this bus is full"


J U S T . M Y . F R E A K I N G . L U C K


"Go down to the next bus and they will fit you on" . . . . off we trot, arrive at the next bus, squeeze out another exhausted little "Chelmsford" (for the 50th freaking time that afternoon) only to be told that the big blue bus we had just been to was the ONLY bus going to Chelmsford, we spin around to point to it and make sure as the blasted thing pulls away from the curb and speeds off down the road. . . .


J E E E Z U S . C H R I S T


I . H A T E . Y O U . L O N D O N . T R A N S P O R T 


I turn back to the man and give him one hell of a stink eye, I start to feel raindrops hitting my hair and face, the rage starts to boil and  then it all comes rolling out. One long, frustrated and slightly aggressive educational explanation of the longwinded, highly unorganised attempt made by his incompetent fellow team members to advise us of the direction we needed to go in to get to Chelmsford, and how he needed to find us a solution to get there ASAP or so help me god I will vigorously insert my size 7 swede shoe so far up his bum he will be able to chew on the gum I accidentally stepped in earlier that day  . . . . . . .



R E S U L T


I felt much better after my mini explosion, and next thing we know a big bus pulls up in front of our feet to take JUST THE 2 OF US all the way to Chelmsford, compliments of the Team manager of London Transport.


T H A T . I S . W H A T . I M . T A L K I N G . A B O U T


Arriving at Chelmsford station, chauffeured by the very accommodating (and slightly intimidated) London Transport System, we make our way to Miller and Carter Steakhouse, enjoy a glorious dinner and have a great old time. . . . .

Lesson learnt - London Transport is horrendous, so just yell a bit and before you know it, they think you are the Queen herself - about time someone recognized me for the legend that I am, hahahaha

M I N D . T H E . G A P

- L O N D O N . T R A N S P O R T . S Y S T E M - O N E . B I G . F U C K I N G . G A P . I N . S O C I E T Y

Cheerio my darling subjects

- Your Majesty, Ashley Elizabeth

x x x

Music - Soothes the Soul or Awakens the Beast?

I think its amazing how music can dramatically alter ones mood - don't you agree that its just amazing how much a song can affect you?

I was at work earlier today, running around like a blue ass fly, busy as anything, stressed out to the max and feeling like wandering out the back and shooting myself in the head when this really crazy flamenco song came on over the bar.

Now let me tell you, the minute I heard this song I was shaking my booty like no black mamma can (no racial intentions there, black women have the most beautiful big bootys and they can move like no other, I was merely stating that my booty shaking was of impeccable standards . . .  naturally), I was completely BUSTING A MOVE, the customers found it funny, as did my teammates, however it took me a little while to remember that I was in a public place filled with hundreds of people, and they were ALL watching me . . . .

Despite the overwhelming embarrassment I was feeling much better, not so stressed, in fact, dare I utter the words, but . . . . . I may have even been having a little bit of  . . . . . oh dear, here it comes . . . . FUN

So this revelation led me to have a think about all my 'Music induced moods' which Im sure after reading through them you can picture yourself

Angus & Julia Stone & Jack Johnson - Chilled ouuuuutttt, with a small hint of homesickness and nostalgia

Nickleback & ACDC - Pumped up & slightly aggressive expressed through rock chick head movements and air guitar playing

Infected Mushroom & Skitzmix - A little crazeeee, bouncy bouncy, oodles of energy, want to run around in a paddock at 2am while wearing a glow in the dark jumpsuit and twirling glow sticks

Eminem & Any other Gansta Rapper - Kranky, up for a fight, walking with a bit of bad ass swagger & sitting so far back while driving that you need to wear stilts just to reach the accelerator

Beyonce, Christina Aguilera & other Strong Independent voices - Empowered, oozing with confidence coupled with a bit of booty shaking or belting out mega love ballads at the top of our lungs, thinking we sound awesome, when reality is we sound like a buffalo in heat

Ministry of Sound - Always, without fail, when pumped loud enough, makes you want to go out to the pub and party with you're mates

Enya - Puts you to sleep - INSTANTLY

Mumford & Sons - Makes you want to slap you're knee and bob you're head like those hillbilly folk and sing along with great internal instrumental passion


In fact, music is alot like drugs, you have the uppers, the downers, the ones that make you cranky, the ones that put you to sleep, relax you, make you shake you're booty, the list is endless.

No wonder there is money to be made in the music industry, essentially its just one MASSIVE drug syndicate pushing its many consumables onto the world's population, young and old, rich & poor, educated and not so much so.

My new life aspiration - to be a tune pimp & groove pusher


See you on the flipside homies

A little bite of Sunshine in every Pack

I was in Sainsburys the other day searching for foods that we can prepare in our 'kitchen' that doesn't require storing in the fridge or cooking by any method other than a microwave. . . .  hmmmm lots of options there - NOT

After some wandering around aimlessly and few cans of Heinz soup later I decided that some chips would be a good idea (The weirdos over here call them 'crisps') and because i seem to be getting a little round around the edges lately (thanks to all the beer I have been consuming) I wanted to go for a 'healthier' option, but didn't want something that tasted like I was chewing on an old shoe.

After picking up several horrible options I came across Walkers' (Which is our Smiths by the way) little packets of awesomeness . . . .

AND the best bit was that the multipacks were on offer, 3 for 3 pounds - YEA BOI

I got them home and decided to try a pack . . . . .


OH SWEET MOTHER OF OUR LORD JEEBUS CHRIST THEY WERE FREAKING AMAZING!

There was one hell of a party in my mouth and EVERYONE was invited, these grain chips were the most impressive packet of chippies I have ever eaten, the flavours were insanely moreish, the texture was great, good portion size and the best bit was - they were good for those bootylicious women out there, like myself, who simply cannot let go of their fatty impulsions and have the undying need to scoff down a packet of chips the minute we feel even slightly peckish.


Heaven in a packet


After gorging myself on a few packets It finally clicked to me the relevance of Walkers' TV advert for Sunbites - it suddenly became so much funnier, wanna see?

All this good news aside, I think I may have a problem, I have become a 3 pack a day consumer, someone needs to invent me some grain-patches so I can try kick this habbit before I start falling apart . . . . meh, its TOTALLY WORTH IT


Spread the word people, Sunbites are the way forward

Family trip to Disneyland . . . . well not quite, but close enough

The other day at work, whilst standing in a group, bored out of our brains, waiting for ANYONE to walk through the door and give us something to do, we started talking about roller coasters and scary rides we had been on (for me it was my past experiences watching everyone else plummet from ridiculous heights whilst I gallantly held all of the bags, hey - its an important role within the group dynamic, stop judging me) and the boys came up with a brilliant idea to co-ordinate everyones days off and have a day trip to Thorpe Park (For all the Aussie readers, you are probably pulling the "huh?" face right now, just like we did . . . Thorpe Park is the UK version of Dreamworld).

After some secretive planning, roster fiddling, car coordination, poor directions, traffic jams, strategic parking, lining up in the million people deep ticket queue, busting out with our buy one get one free vouchers and loosing one of our crew in the security gates which closely resembled the customs section at the airport (I told him not to try and smuggle in his ridiculously large joint, but of course he didnt listen, lesson learnt - HA) we were finally standing in the land of screaming, spine-tingling, stomach churning FUN ready to tackle these babies . . . .

After lining up for insane amounts of time next to the smelly kid with no friends, the young couple who spend the whole time trying to fit each others faces into their mouths and the poor guy who just wanted to be cool for taking the kids to Thorpe park but forgot he has to go on with the them and is now crapping his dacks  and was clearly looking for ANY escape route possible, there were a few moments spent shooting from crazy death defying heights, backwards, upside down, and wrong way around, with your fingernails now permanently impressed into the safety bars at speeds unnatural to man, resulting in you're voice turning into that of a 2 pack a day smoker

. . . . . . . . . .  followed by lunch and a few beers




Jess and Halz werent all that keen on the whole 'scaring the poo poo out of you' rides, they spent thier ride time on things such as the hardcore 'Tetley Teacups' followed by a 3D movie and a wander around the gift shop

YEA BOI - HARD MOTHER TRUCKERS!!!

As the sun started to fade away, Ant and Matt decided it was the perfect time to go on the 'Tidal Wave' . . .  now lets just take a moment to think about this - its getting dark, it has been overcast and rather chilly all day and it wasnt about to get any warmer and this particular ride has been constructed for the pure purpose of getting you 110% absolutely soaking wet


Resulting in this . . . . .

NOT HAPPY JANICE

After wandering around the park soaking wet for the next few hours it was time to head home . . . . . heading towards the exits we hear a big booming voice over the Announcement Systems that there had been an accident on the motorway and as a result there were massive traffic jams all the way home. Just my freaking luck, im all soggy, my wet jeans are clinging so hardcore to my ass it feels like im all wrapped up in cling-wrap, im exhausted, hungry and cold . .  what more can go wrong??

Luckily, the boys knew the best remedy for waiting for traffic to clear - Find a pub, grab some food and finish the day off with a couple of well earned pints

All in all, a great day! Not really the best suggestion for the socially awekward, pregnant, those with back problems, midgets/small children or those universally referred to as "PUSSIES" - but for all the others out there, DO IT, YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO - www.thorpepark.com

Fearless bastard - over and out

Squishy Love

Mannnnnn, the weather is starting to get colder, a few more miserable rainy days than usual . . . . . .purrrrrrrfect squishy love time


Halz and I have been feeling our maternal bones a tingling over the past week, and we all know that the only non-baby option to these tinglings is to get ourselfs some fluffy squishes

Something along the lines of . . . . . .

 THIS

or THIS 

or even THIS 

Needing some serious loving people, or we may just result to buying ourselves our very own retard-ninja . . . . isnt he a cutie!!

Please, send us some love 

xxxx

Well well well, long time no blogging

You wont believe what happened to me the other day . . . . .

I was cleaning my room and heard a bit of rustling and very faint sniggering coming from underneath my bed . . . I jumped on top and very bravely hung my head over the edge to take a peek and may I say I definitely discovered something rather odd, it was an interesting find indeed, not every day do you see a fuzzy little dust-bunny running around causing mischief and trying to light a small collection of old receipts and food wrappers on fire, right there underneath your bed.

What on Earth could be going on here??

It was there and then that I realised what it was that was gnawing on my shoe and mumbling naughty words under its breath . . . .

My poor little neglected Blog!

The little darling was just acting out and being naughty in order to get some attention, it had been so long since I last blogged that the little fella was feeling very alone and unloved.



It was at this point I decided that it was time to give this little fella some DEEP SCOTTISH LOVE

So Im BACK BABY!!


. . . . . . . . Prepare to be blogged

What the? UK television adverts are lets say . . . . a little strange

So I was on Facebook and came across a link for a new tv advert for some yummy biscuits here in the UK

Take a look  -

WHAT THE F*%#K


This would have to be the most CREEPY tv ad I have ever seen, how do they honestly think that this ad campaign will sell their biscuits?

I would purposely avoid the whole freaking supermarket if I thought two weirdo biscuit monkeys were going to drop from the roof and get all sexy with me in order to make me choose their flavour and then do some perverted celebration dance when you pick up a packet.

The way the Jammie Monkey is sitting there stroking the packets and staring blankly into her eyes just made my skin crawl. And their suggestive little voices cooing at you "Jaaaaaammmmmmie" . . . . . "Toffffeeeeee"

Now after seeing this clip it made me start to wonder . . . . . . . . are there really Jammie and Toffee Monkeys out there . . . waiting . . . . . lurking in the buiscuit isle of you're local store, ready to do their little hip gyration routine . . . . . trying to lure you into taking a packet home with you . . . . letting them into your home

IM NEVER BUYING BISCUITS AGAIN - EVER

"Jaaaaammmmmmmmiieee . . . Jammie Jammie, Jaammmmmmmmie"

Thats right, enjoy you're nightmares people

Sweeet Dreams
xxx

Blimey Mate, Quick chuck me a scooner of Tooheys, fire up tha barby, whack on me thongs and jump in me ute, I'm loosin my flamin Aussie accent bloke

Holly Shiiiiit . . . . . I think Im slowly loosing my Aussie - WHAT DO I DO???

Apart from eating Vegemite by the bucket load and walking around the house in my thongs, what more can I do so far away from home?

Yesterday I managed to say "its well hot in here" and almost died at the thought of picking up on their horrible distortion of the English language, I immediately corrected myself and then shut my mouth for the rest of the day.

Now when I talk to customers they dont look at me with that "You're not from around here" expression anymore, instead I must seem normal to them, which concerns me as my Australian-ness was so obvious to them in the beginning.

Today Hayley got out all the Australian Souvenirs and "Best of Australia" posters and hung them all around our room, it looks like a bloody gift shop in here. She even went as far as attaching those clip on Koala's to all the hanging light fittings hanging from the roof . . . . .  its boarder-lining on creepy

When trying to top up on Australian normality here we always seem to find a problem that gets in the way

Cadbury Chocolate - Just not the same, rather powdery and tastes weird

A Meat Pie - pastry is different, tastes nothing like the ones at home

Choccy Milk - Tastes like UHT milk and home brand cocoa powder

Bacon - Its all smoked here, and its sliced super thin and has the texture of smoked salmon


Steak - No-one here can cook a steak properly, let alone identify a nice cut of meat, every one we have tried has been cooked badly and is super tough, give
me some Aussie beef anyday




Beer - I am yet to find a beer that doesnt taste like horse urine here, NOT HAPPY JAN


Aioli - These weirdos look at us strange when we ask for aioli, they have no idea what it is

Tomato & BBQ Sauce - they taste nothing like our sauces, how do these people live? OMG


Please, send us some Australian care packages, we beg of you, please help us keep our Aussie, we love it dearly and dont want it to leave us.

ANZAC bikkies, Tim Tams, Tomato Sauce, we need you, we love you, please come to us.

Aussie - Over and Out

So . . FYI Home sickness SUCKS - Anyone have a private jet or a giant slingshot?

I woke up, accidentally elbowed Halz in the head as I turned over, stepped out of bed straight into some broken glass on the floor, wandered down the hallway filled with random boxes of cleaning products, napkins and straws, into the bathroom, took a look at our 'shower' and the wet carpeted floor, glanced in the mirror at my tired pale face and took a big deep breath in . . . . . another long day, for another few measly pounds. 

I felt a little flat and heavy chested . . . . what is this icky fog Im in today? . . . . . Oh SHIT . . . . . Im Homesick

home·sick

  [hohm-sik] 

–adjective

sad or depressed from a longing for home  or family while awayfrom them for a long time.

Thats all I freaking need . . . .


Please someone tell me that there is some cooky nanna remedy for Homesickness, like standing on you're head whilst downing a Jager Bomb or spinning around 12 times while singing 'Backstreets back' and then jumping over a bar stool without falling over  . . . . I need a quick fix, because this horrible disease tends to come and go whenever it pleases randomly plaguing us and over staying his welcome.


Sir Richard Branson, we have all heard of you're grand plans to have regular flights into space and back for the insanely rich . . . . yes, its rather impressive, but how about SUPER fast flights from London to Sydney so you can do day trips for about $10 a pop - I think thats a much better idea, cater for the 'living of tips' demographic so we dont have to feel Homesick every second or so day.


Or alternatively I could build a giant slingshot in the paddock next door and pop home in time for dinner . . . . .

hmmmmm . . . . . I will let you know how this goes 


. . . . . If I die, please play Enya and Michael Buble at my funeral and I want only white tulips, no roses or babies breath and there better be some serious crying people, after all who will be there to entertain you daily with mindless drivel? Yeah, thats what I thought, you're crying already arent you . . . its ok, let it all out, you will feel better.