Followers who are fab - I am moving, to a new blog!!!I decided, whilst my alter ego was funny and all, that i could do more!
If you would still like to follow me (it's okay if you don't, i'm fine just rambling along to myself), then please go to: www.oneelleoftheball.co.uk and you shall find my new blog :)
You'll still find all of my old scribbles on the new site, I will find a place for them in due course.
P.s. It's still a work in progress, don't judge people, don't judge. xx
Wednesday, 7 December 2011
Tuesday, 25 October 2011
Staying Drunk
Belle has been away for a while - i'll catch you up on the latter's activities shortly.
Tonight, whilst frequenting the local Sainsburys, Belle had a revelation: she is, in fact, a cat lady.
Before entering said Sainsburys, Belle had visited the 'Pets at Home' (completely non chavvy store...) round the corner from Sainsburys (Superstore i'll add- by the by, there are 3 Sainsburys in about a 5 mile radius, is this actually legal?!) to purchase litter for cat, we'll call her Dol. Dol has been using a brand labelled 'World's Best Cat Litter' - to which I muse, by taking that name as an actual brand name, there need be no actual proof of the fact; impressive marketing from the boys at 'World's Best', I must say.
The world's best marketing ploy for cat lovers with no sense, 'World's best Cat Litter' retails at around £11, so Belle said: "fuck it" and bought the cheapo stuff that is actually - and I kid you not - called Cat's Best Cat Litter - RRP of £8. My £3 saving apparently goes into the handle at the top so Belles can carry the bag to her car and then out again on the other side...
After a short trip to Sainsburys, pizza in hand, Belle heads home when the young Mafia esque boy pulls into the drive after her in his shiny Lexus. Beat up Peugeot aside, Belle struggles will all her bags, ambling to the door, where nice, friendly 'son of Mafia boss' is holding the door open for Belle, whilst his girlfriend struggles to gain entry to the other door.
This was the exact moment in which Belle realised she was a cat lady. A cat lady living alone with her cat, eating pizza by herself relishing in the silence that ensues whilst she partakes in a cheeky marathon of The Only Way is Essex and Made in Chelsea.
Belle is a cat lady, in order to recitfy this situation, Belle has tried to ease the pain of this revelation by drowing her sorrows.
Not only is Belle a cat lady but she is a sloshed cat lady.
Tonight, whilst frequenting the local Sainsburys, Belle had a revelation: she is, in fact, a cat lady.
Before entering said Sainsburys, Belle had visited the 'Pets at Home' (completely non chavvy store...) round the corner from Sainsburys (Superstore i'll add- by the by, there are 3 Sainsburys in about a 5 mile radius, is this actually legal?!) to purchase litter for cat, we'll call her Dol. Dol has been using a brand labelled 'World's Best Cat Litter' - to which I muse, by taking that name as an actual brand name, there need be no actual proof of the fact; impressive marketing from the boys at 'World's Best', I must say.
The world's best marketing ploy for cat lovers with no sense, 'World's best Cat Litter' retails at around £11, so Belle said: "fuck it" and bought the cheapo stuff that is actually - and I kid you not - called Cat's Best Cat Litter - RRP of £8. My £3 saving apparently goes into the handle at the top so Belles can carry the bag to her car and then out again on the other side...
After a short trip to Sainsburys, pizza in hand, Belle heads home when the young Mafia esque boy pulls into the drive after her in his shiny Lexus. Beat up Peugeot aside, Belle struggles will all her bags, ambling to the door, where nice, friendly 'son of Mafia boss' is holding the door open for Belle, whilst his girlfriend struggles to gain entry to the other door.
This was the exact moment in which Belle realised she was a cat lady. A cat lady living alone with her cat, eating pizza by herself relishing in the silence that ensues whilst she partakes in a cheeky marathon of The Only Way is Essex and Made in Chelsea.
Belle is a cat lady, in order to recitfy this situation, Belle has tried to ease the pain of this revelation by drowing her sorrows.
Not only is Belle a cat lady but she is a sloshed cat lady.
Saturday, 7 May 2011
Italia Yodels
Belle was recently asked to go to Italy.
By an Italian man.
Get me.
He emailed me and wanted me to go to Carnivale, by myself, to a gorgeous part of Italy as he wants to 'catch up'.
Apparently he had been talking to mutual friends about my skin and hair (bit weird, i have to say as I've met him twice, once on holiday last July and again on a work trip in September).
Worrying? or a great opportunity? Belle ponders what her life could have been like if i had taken him up on his offer...
Pros of going:
By an Italian man.
Get me.
He emailed me and wanted me to go to Carnivale, by myself, to a gorgeous part of Italy as he wants to 'catch up'.
Apparently he had been talking to mutual friends about my skin and hair (bit weird, i have to say as I've met him twice, once on holiday last July and again on a work trip in September).
Worrying? or a great opportunity? Belle ponders what her life could have been like if i had taken him up on his offer...
Pros of going:
- Free Accomodation, food and probably drinks (mmmm Italian vodka)
- Amazing Clubs on the beach
- Beaches (without chubby British men clambering about in their socks and sandals)
- Marriage in Italy (enough said really)
- Hot weather (Belle has a distinct hatred towards the cold)
- Skiing in winter (Belle has never skied, but it's nice to have the option on a great big mountain instead of Milton Keynes' Snowdome, eh?)
- Olive skinned babies
- My boyfriend would probably disapprove.
Thursday, 20 January 2011
Time goes by but i'm holding on..
Yes, you did in fact see correctly, i am using a title taken from an Atomic Kitten song.
It sums up how lapse i have been with this blog to a T, baby.
So the new job and the vodka continues, the vodka has upgraded itself to cocktails and Sailor Jerry's (not together, i'm not that much of an alcoholic) and mostly takes hold of my throat on a Friday or a Saturday night. Belle decided to be cheeky today, indulging in a small drink a day before work ends as she spent half of her afternoon emailing the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times.
Today's tipple comes in the form of Savanna Dry Cider (still classy), fresh from the tretcherous shelves of the Sainsburys down the road. Today the normal Sainsburys experience ensued: upon entering through the automatic doors and heading to the magazine and newspaper wall (as one does everytime one enters Sainsburys Superstore), I was halted by what appeared to be a Wizard, fully attired in a velour, purple smock and a black velvet cloak walking just infront of me. His mate, whom i can only class as a witch, indeed also had a cloak but was more witchly dressed in a purple dress and leather boots.
I must admit i was slightly shocked upon seeing this. The sweet country girl that I am is used to the sight of tweed, MUSTO and Hunters (which also make me want to break out in hives) and so i could actually feel my face contorting into confusion. I half expected them to pull out a staff and re-enact the Gandalf scene in Lord of Rings: 'You Shall not Pass to buy Grazia!'
In panic mode i aimed for the root vegetable aisle, clearly normal thinking as my friend S always remarks on how root vegetables are the root of all evil. (I think my brain was aiming for the correlation between their evilness helping me to fight back. Either that or i have subconciously notice that hoards of students congregating near the potatoes and i could hurl one (a student, not a potato) at the magical couple (with my super strength) and run away to hide).
Sufficed to say, after five incredibly tense moments of me eyeing this week's Grazia, the Wizard and his partner moved along to the spice section and I continued on my quest to find toothpaste, magazine in hand.
Getting distracted in the spirits aisle i wandered over to the boldly displayed variations of tasty cider and upon craning my head to get a better look at the price of Kopperburg compared to Savanna, I noticed a glistening off to my left. Turning I bore witness to a 60 year old woman dressed in a full on fur coat, pearls, diamond earrings and high heels, complete with a full face of make-up that any member of a Benefit concession would be proud of.
Sometimes i wonder why i moved to the city.
It sums up how lapse i have been with this blog to a T, baby.
So the new job and the vodka continues, the vodka has upgraded itself to cocktails and Sailor Jerry's (not together, i'm not that much of an alcoholic) and mostly takes hold of my throat on a Friday or a Saturday night. Belle decided to be cheeky today, indulging in a small drink a day before work ends as she spent half of her afternoon emailing the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times.
Today's tipple comes in the form of Savanna Dry Cider (still classy), fresh from the tretcherous shelves of the Sainsburys down the road. Today the normal Sainsburys experience ensued: upon entering through the automatic doors and heading to the magazine and newspaper wall (as one does everytime one enters Sainsburys Superstore), I was halted by what appeared to be a Wizard, fully attired in a velour, purple smock and a black velvet cloak walking just infront of me. His mate, whom i can only class as a witch, indeed also had a cloak but was more witchly dressed in a purple dress and leather boots.
I must admit i was slightly shocked upon seeing this. The sweet country girl that I am is used to the sight of tweed, MUSTO and Hunters (which also make me want to break out in hives) and so i could actually feel my face contorting into confusion. I half expected them to pull out a staff and re-enact the Gandalf scene in Lord of Rings: 'You Shall not Pass to buy Grazia!'
In panic mode i aimed for the root vegetable aisle, clearly normal thinking as my friend S always remarks on how root vegetables are the root of all evil. (I think my brain was aiming for the correlation between their evilness helping me to fight back. Either that or i have subconciously notice that hoards of students congregating near the potatoes and i could hurl one (a student, not a potato) at the magical couple (with my super strength) and run away to hide).
Sufficed to say, after five incredibly tense moments of me eyeing this week's Grazia, the Wizard and his partner moved along to the spice section and I continued on my quest to find toothpaste, magazine in hand.
Getting distracted in the spirits aisle i wandered over to the boldly displayed variations of tasty cider and upon craning my head to get a better look at the price of Kopperburg compared to Savanna, I noticed a glistening off to my left. Turning I bore witness to a 60 year old woman dressed in a full on fur coat, pearls, diamond earrings and high heels, complete with a full face of make-up that any member of a Benefit concession would be proud of.
Sometimes i wonder why i moved to the city.
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