'Oh Think Twice...'

'It's just another day for you and me in paradise'...well it would be should we both be lying on our loungers upon the white sands of Cabo St Lucas. Waves rhythmically lapping against the shore as the margarita laps over the salted rim of your glass, passing your lips, and exciting your taste buds with such persuasion that you start thinking I'm a lot more of a beach goddess than you had ever anticipated! 

Oh alcohol if only you could work that well. 

I mean it's bloody marvelous at pulling the wool over your eyes and I know it lowers the inhibitions and all, making you a confident motherfucker who once wasted is game for anyone. But that pretty little thing you were dancing with the night before becomes an ugly giant thing over night. Over night I said, and i'll say it again: over night. Less than 24 hours and that ethanol charm has worn off. Your eyes, once opened are working perfectly again. Making her somewhat unrecognisable 'Who the...? Did we...? Did I...?' Your brain too is on the road to recovery and becomes your brutally honest friend. 'Yes. Yes you did.' And your balance and co-ordination become deadly accurate. No need for provocative leaning when there's no-one there to provoke right? Right. I'd bet your bottom dollar you'd rather roll out of bed than straddle her head. So let's be honest alcohol might be able to cast a short term spell that brings short term happiness and sexy time, but it's a liquid and not the plastic surgeon/personal trainer/stylist you might wish for now and again. Just saying!

Annnnnnd now I sound like a whore!

Pahahaha I wish. No seriously I do. You wait in a few years time I'll make an announcement that this blog is changing it's title and 'The Useless Whore' will be born. Fresh out of slutville and you'll be tuning in to read about how I get my leg over on a regular basis. Bring it.

The sad truth is that I got carried away with thoughts of cocktails and beach goddesses and you and me in paradise, and there it was, a paragraph on blinding yourself with alcohol and bedding uglies. I'm not even one of those shallow fools that only sleep with good looking girls anyway. Ok maybe I am. But I think it's a phase! Not a bad phase mind you. I mean I'm probably more than capable of loving someone that looks like the love child of Marilyn Manson and Amy Winehouse. I just might need to hit the bottle that's all. I'm joking of course. Who needs alcohol when you can just close your eyes. No seriously though I am joking.  I'm not that pretentious. My heart is as big as the last ugly fat girl I woke up to. I'd have you all if I could.

Let me take it from 'you and me in paradise' because as mentioned I seem to have been mildly distracted and the visuals swirling around my British brain aren't too pretty right now. Yes Cabo with any of you (non)beauts would be divine but I'm in London and though today has been particularly beautiful the chill is enough to pop each one of my exotic fantasy bubbles. Bring on Summer.

The reason for me quoting from Phil (Big Drums) Collins was particularly aimed at the 'Oh think twice...' for I've decided that this blog would benefit from some sort of structure. A term that I rarely find used in my day-to-day life so I'm going to have to pull out all the stops for this one. I'm good like that. Therefore...drum roll if you please Phil...you can now catch up with your daily dose of uselessness and all thing remotely lesbian every fortnight! Ain't that a treat?! And what better day to post than Sunday Funday. The funnest day of them all. Agree to disagree.

I swear we have loads to catch up on. I mean you really don't know too much about me at present unless you are keeping up to date with my Twitter. In which case you probably know far too much already. For some reason Twitter for me is like telling the world everything I'd normally keep to myself. It's like I'm narrating my own life despite having always wanted Dawn French to do so. In fact that's an idea, they should have celebrity voiceovers as a tweet option. I'd love to have Sarah Silverman repeating my tweets when called upon. No doubt those technical wizards in Bill Gates basement are already on to it. In fact Ben Stiller is probably in a sound booth right now, as we speak, as he speaks too. Well in actual fact he's probably en route to Hollywood for the Oscars. Tux Deluxe. But hey it was an idea!

I think I'd opt for Christopher Walken actually. He'd be a perfect tweet narrator...tweetator! Just perfect. Plus he's one of my beloved all time favourites. See you're learning more about me already. There's a whole lot more of where that came from. I've got a deadline in place now. I'll be back soon. I might even give you a few bonus blogs to tide you over and bring you up to speed. I might not. Oooh a touch of mystery to spice things up. I like what I did there.

I hope you are all enjoying your Sunday. I do believe it is red-carpet-fever all round. Oh and talking of carpets, before I go, I apologise for the lack of carpet, rug, or how can I put this PUSSY in this post. I'll make sure there's double next time. And who doesn't want double pussy? I think I just heard you smile. Don't worry I won't be telling your wife, she don't have to know, your secrets safe with me.

Until next time, whenever that might be!

Useless.xx

Let's Start At The Very Beginning...

A very good place to start! ...So Julie Andrew insists, but right now my brain is somersaulting all over the place at the sheer the thought of it. Yes I said somersaulting. My brain is quite the acrobat at the most inconvenient of times. Don't even get me started about it's odd behavior. We'll certainly save some of my cringe filled stories for another post. But right now I'm going to stick with trying to work out where to start with this here blog of mine.

Where do I start?

Where do I start?

I might as well ask myself a third time just incase there's a puff of smoke and out through the cloudy haze will walk Ellen Degeneres. Who'll hand me a book, a one of it's kind, extraordinary and ridiculously priceless book, titled 'Introducing yourself to lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transvestites and other stories' that just so happens to have been written by Angelina Jolie.

Angelina of whom, if you didn't know, other than being one half of a hunky Hollywood couple and working towards a world record attempt of having one baby from each continent; is actually the Ultimate Lesbian Heroine according to The Telegraph (that was news to me too!).

If I'm going to take imaginary advice off of anyone I want it to come from a valid and reliable source and as Ellen is the one handing me this informative book of wonderstuff I can only imagine she too has learnt invaluable advice from the ULH that be The Jolie. I can even see it now, E to the De Gen will bust out the robot, send me a cheeky wink, and before she performs her spin-and-vanish-like-a-magic-motherfucking-lesbian-god trick says 'Soon you too will have a wife just like mine!'

WHERE DO I START?


I'm guessing the empty silent moment that just followed that question means that she's not coming. I'm not going to lie I'm disappointed. Who wouldn't want to know how to get a hot wife? Jeez. Third time's a charm my ass.

Ok so if those two aren't going to help me out I'm going to have to go all Tom Jones on me and just help myself. I don't want to bore you with the details, we've all got at least one friend that does that! So I'll quickly summarize everything now and we can piece me together as we go. A little like lego instructions, a little like shut up and get on with it!

1. I had originally intended to write this blog to help others and myself with the whole coming out process.
2. But I came out too soon.
3. Not to be confused with 'I came too soon'.
4. I'm not one for premature ejaculation!
5. Let's just say that life happened. You can't plan moments like that. No matter how many times you try! ...I'm talking about the coming out and not the ejaculation. Just to make that clear.
6. It's all very fresh, as in I only informed the 'rents in November.
7. I still have to tell my siblings.
8. I still have friends that should know.
9. I still have little issues to work out.
10. And I'm still god awful at being that sexy motherfucker of a lesbian that we all dream to be.
11. I blame it on my spontaneous somersaulting brain.
12. Secretly I know (in the words of Eminem) it's just the way I am!
13. So to conclude I still have quite a way to go.
14. Therefore the show goes on and here I am.
15. Prepare yourself for some brutal honesty...
16. ...some embarrassing confessions...
17. ...perhaps a few guest appearances...
18. ...maybe even some buy-one-get-one-free vouchers at Target!
19. Yeah right.
20. I'm a lesbian not a miracle internet discount diva.

And there we have it. I hope you have a better idea of where I'm going with this. No? Well me either. Where the frick is the big E to the double L E N, when you need her?!

Here's to hot wives, perfectly timed ejaculation, and a future with queer orientated commercials at Super Bowl.

Happy Sunday.

Do-Re-Mi!

x

At Last...

Sung Etta James and now I too am singing those same two words. Unfortunately my voice isn't a silky smooth soulbox like that of the marvelous Etta James. If it was, you'd have been sure to have found me on YouTube already and would most probably have shared one of my beautiful ballads on your girlfriends facebook wall in attempt to make up for forgetting about your 7 month anniversary. Who needs to celebrate 7 months anyway? I feel you girl. But, as much as I'd like to be, I am not that silky smooth soulbox that be Etta James, you are yet to find me on YouTube and I'm not on your girlfriends wall (...just yet!). Truth has it that I'm actually pretty talentless when it comes to singing. Strangely however, and much to the disadvantage of those in the vicinity, I love to try. 

But before I start getting distracted by that guilty pleasure that be online Karaoke and before I begin telling you any more random ridiculous facts about myself; I'm going to reign in my imagination, if only for this post, and stick to the point. As you can see I'm a fool for distraction. I'm a fool for other things too such as chocolate, whores and straight girls. All very much the same thing. But distraction is one of many reasons why this blog has taken so long to get started.

I had been meaning to start this opening post many moons ago. I have had a billion ideas of topics to write about. Some that will feature and some that have been lost in the depths of the past. My memory, like my singing voice, is not a  particularly strong point. I blame it on an open bar when I was on a girlie holiday at the tender age of 17. For some reason open bar to me means try and kill your liver as quickly as possible. So you can imagine the state I was in after nine sex-on-the-beach' in less than an hour. Needless to say I was a cocktail slut. The liquor raped my internal organs in a similar way that I would to Megan Fox if she were to knock on my door asking whether I'd buy some homemade cookies. What can I say?... I like cookies! Long story short I was a passed out, vomit dribbling, dirt bag before midnight struck. Not a good look. Not a good look at all. But I was young. I was carefree. Oh who am I kidding. I'd do it all again if it wasn't for my gag reflex at the smell alone of that lethal lethal concoction.

Where was I? Oh yes. Distraction. See it's not easy being me. One straight girl batting her lashes and wammy, "gone fishing". So you get it. You should of by now. I get distracted and yes, as mentioned, it is one of many reasons I have started this blog o mine as late as this. Another key reason for it's belatedness was because I couldn't decide whether to vlog or blog. Hmm quite the conundrum. Decisiveness like both my voice and memory is not one of my fortes. If life has taught me anything so far it's that when things get a little blurred it's worth making a pros and cons list to see clearly again. I mean sure there have been other valuable lessons learnt such as don't ask strippers for change and avoiding unhygienic eateries equals avoiding a bout of the shits. But a Pros and Cons list is a blessing for an indecisive retard like myself, a little like a magic 8 ball without the element of surprise. Jesus come to think of it why didn't I use my magic 8 ball. You Penis. (Ignore my self-cussing. I'd like to say it is involuntary if it meant making me look any less of a nerd, unless you dig nerds? Because if so I'm a motherfucking penis cake. Call me already?!) So upon deciding whether to jump into the limelight with my very own spotlight and myself as a highlight. I had to weigh it all up. (I could have simply shaken the 8 ball but no I went and drew a frickin' mental list didn't I.) It went as follows...

The pros: as research suggests having a successful vlog means there's a chance it'd make you a hit with the chicks. 

The cons: knowing my luck I'd end up with a half ton lunatic from Idaho. 

I quickly came to the conclusion that a simple blog would be sufficient for me to share enough of myself to the world (wide web). My words alone are going to have to carry me forward for now. But don't underestimate me ladies. I'll still attempt to blow your minds when and wherever possible, armed with a laptop and a mission to thrill. Make no mistake. And I shall save my fifteen minutes for another day. In fact I do believe my camera will remain switched off until I get to that exciting stage in my career where I'll need to make an awesome sex video with Drew Barrymore and Kristen Stewart that will happen to get "leaked". Oh the shame.

So blog it is.

And here I am. 

I'd like to welcome you to my world. A world that can only be described as a queer mess of confused love fueled by chocolate, ladies, and laughter. I'll introduce you to most of me. Gradually. I'm a lot to handle all at once, a little like my future fat girlfriend from Idaho, a little like a complicated crazy British girl! I'm glad we've made it this far together, you're starting to become my longest relationship yet. I'm a commitment freak so I'll pretend I didn't just say that. But stick with me on this one. I'm thinking it will be quite the adventure.

There I've said it. I've kicked it off. At last...