The shittest week on record

The boyfriend dumped me on Wednesday after a year. Not happy about that. Well am pretty devastated but cest la vie eh? He has all thse problems an' just isn't satisfied with only being able to email me to talk which is absolute bullshit. He hardly ever Skyped with me, I always had to ask an' even then it was hit or miss because being me being 8 hours ahead an' him having the compulsion to go to the gym every fucking night around the time I start passing out it hardly ever happened. He said he wanted to talk to me about all these problems on the phone or text me or summat. How would it be any different if he wanted to do that if I was 20 minutes down the road or half the world away? Contradiction there that is. An' I was ALWAYS available. Shit excuse. Apparently though I needed to be there. There were lots of options. Him coming here or me going there. But he didn't want to do either, one being he would have to marry me to get me there. But I thought people who loved each other so much would do anything, right? No, wrong.

I also think it was very unfair that he sent me the email saying "We need to talk" at what would be a normal time for him, but turned out to be half five in the morning for me. So of course, I checked me email when I woke an' there it is. I was worrying for the rest of the day until I managed to coax it out of him. I was actually sick with worry. That an' I kept bursting in to tears at work. Eventually, I got him on Skype an' proceeded to do the typical woman thing consisting of shouting, screaming, bawling an' so on. 2 hours later after that, him not really looking like he was bothered an' a ton of drawn out silences an' me just GLARING. That was it.

An' on that night (for him, morning next day for me) he mailed me saying that he'd booked a flight to Vegas where his race team were an' had asked him to go with them like the week before. So, while he's swanning about Vegas having a good time, getting drunk an' shit; I'm here doing my normal thing of working, gaming, working an' being miserable. Fucking charming eh?

His excuses were shit to me. I know people who go through a lot worse with LDR's, etc. He also never spoke about "us." It was always me bringing up "us" an' he always shunned the talk, saying we'd cross that bridge when we get to it. He also said he'd been thinking about this for a while now, but that was the first I'd heard of it. Am' not that much of a bitch nor am I that unreasonable that I can't be spoken to about these things an' have a discussion. No, he just didn't have the balls to actually initiate a discussion about it.

Which makes me come to this conclusion.

I have more balls than he does.

In fact all the shit I've gone through since high school have given me bigger balls than most so-called tough blokes.

If he wants to continue talking to me, that's fine by me. No skin off my nose. Brash, loud, abrasive an' forward I may be. But total cunt, I am not. The ball's in his bastard court.

Fuck it. I want me a rugby player.

IN OTHER NEWS!!!!!!

I completed both Arkham City an' Uncharted 3.

Uncharted 3 could've been better I guess. I dunno it was lacking summat that the first two games had. Probably a bit more humor an' a lot less repeated drama. Story was a bit naff an' all I stopped following what was going on about a third of the way through 'cause I got so confused. Still a good fun game though but bloody confusing, an' the aiming system isn't as responsive as usual either which is annoying. I might play it through again though when I got me good head back on.

The problem with "Men" an' shopping...

Am knackered. Absolutely KNACKERED. Barely got 5 hours sleep last night. Don't ask me why but I was having a hard time getting to sleep an' staying asleep.


So anyway, a bit after I finished work me dad announces that he's off in to town to go get ciggies an' stuff. Of course me father get's "shopping" as in "absolutely nothing of nutritional value or use." Dad's "shopping" primarily consists of cake, crisps, pies, cake, an' more cake. He also normally comes back with some kind of medication to for whatever ailment his hypochondriac mind has decided he has this week. An tonight has been no different. He come back with above mentioned shite.


Now, before he went I asked him to get me some Coke or Pepsi. Just straight forward Full-Fat Coke or Pepsi. Either one am not bothered so long as it's Full Fat. (Interesting note here, in the UK, possibly the rest of Europe we don't have any cola "throwbacks" mainly because we don't really use HFCS in our full fat sodas int first place.)


Now here's my thing...Can you tell the difference between this:

And this...

And this?!

Well, according to me father there IS no difference!

Yes it might be me being harsh again but come on nobody's that stupid. He blames it on being "close-up blind" as he says or long-sighted to you an' me. Now I have been shopping with me father, he literally picks up the first thing he gets too then he's off 'cause he get's estate sick when he's away from work for more than 15 minutes on non-work related whatever. Either that or he really is dim OR he's bringing me this shit back on purpose 'cause he doesn't want asking again. I asked him for full fat Coke or Pepsi.He brought me back a 6 pack of Pepsi Max an' a 6 pack of Diet Pepsi'cause it was "on offer an he didn't know what to get so he got two different kinds."

Some people say "Awww Georgie don't be so rough on him he's trying!" I say "No." This is the man who has had women running about after him for most of his life. First his mother, now it's me an' me mam. He can't cook. Heck he can't even boil a pan of water without ballsing it up. He's been banned from attempting to cook a fry-up 'cause he coats the entire kitchen in grease, fills the kitchen with blue smoke then he doesn't move his plate in to the utility rooms where the dishwasher is. He leaves it ont table, with his chair a yard away from it waiting for either me or me mam to shift it.

This is also the man who doesn't speak to us for days if we genuinely forget to buy him a lottery ticket with our own money.

This is also the man who said that if he was meant to wash dishes, he'dve been born with a pair of tits.

SO! For the single ladies this is my advice to you. You want a fella who can at least do all if not most of these things.

1: Cook at least one or two meals. It's not always your duty to make sure he's fed all the time. As the saying goes "I'm not your mother." An' it's true you aren't!

2: Offer to go out to eat once in a while, regardless of if he's a shite cook or not.

3: Pick up basic groceries an' bits an' bobs at the supermarket in the brand you normally use/like without having his hand held.

4: Actually DO bits around the house. Not "I put them shelves up" which you remember were put up three years ago, not three days ago like HE remembers. I mean things like take out the bins, load/unload the dishwasher, whip round the living room with the hoover once a week, actually put his dirty clothes in the laundry basket. Etc...

5: Not expect you to do EVERYTHING. "A woman's work is never done" an' that can't be true enough. You yourself can't claim or expect you can do everything an' neither should he. Give an' take from both parties remember. :)