Late night fever stricken web browsing..

..leads to a return of my ebay obsession. I seem to have developed some sort of unspecefied virus and as such can't sleep (also, am waiting for boyfriend to return from his late night dissertation panics, once you get used to sharing a bed with someone you can't sleep alone) and wandered onto ebay to have a look for a replacement for a dress I have managed to ruin. This was a mistake. Several hours in and I have searched through every bloody size 14 dress on there, have about fifty things on my watch list and have convinced myself that I reeallly need a rose print laura ashley skirt. And my glands are still up.

The afore mentioned longing for rose print garments may have something to do with the reappearance of twee in my life. I had a brief foray into noise, but I'm running back to belle and sebastian with my arms wide open. And if anyone wants to buy me a stars t shirt from the yellow bird project, that would be nice.

In other dull news, I'm addicted to tetris and I never finish any crochet I start.

After a short hiatus....

..I am back (to save the universe).

And what spurred me on to getting back to blogging? My hatred of crocs. Which now come in a fur lined option. Dear God.

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Ok, so they're comfortable. So are your boyfriends boxers and your dads walking socks but there's no need to start wearing them in public (though if the new 'melting pot' trend is anything to go by, perhaps there is). They are hideous. They can make grown men cry, and not in the good way. A man working at Nottingham University wears them with suits. SUITS. It's all I can do not to leap out of the bus and grab them off his feet in a bid to save him from himself.
Fashion isn't about comfort. It's never been about comfort. It's about putting yourselves through all sorts of ridiculous procedures in order to look nice, and crocs do not look nice. My feet are horrifically battle scarred from years of abuse through shoes that are too big/small/pointy/flat/high (and years of ballet) but who cares, no one sees my feet anyway because they are always covered by attractive shoes. In fact, my feet have been scarred since the age of about 7, when I had my first pair of 'proper' shoes (ie, not with a t-bar, which was the sign of being a grown up. Odd then that now I eally crave those gold t-bars from primark that I missed out on). I refused to take them off even when they had become far too small for me, resulting in my toes now not quite being straight. Start em young, that's what I say.
Anyway. Crocs. It's time to pin your colours to the mast and follow the lead of Manolo over at shoeblogs in stopping this crime against fashion once and for all. Just Say No.

Shameless plug...

If you are in London on these dates I urge you to go see this play: the writer has won awards and is all very good etc but most importantly, Becky Gunstone the designer is my best friend. She's incredibly talented: go see her work. And go see her play.

New Kid On The Block

So, thanks to a Blue Peter competition, there is a new Bash Street Kids gang member for that old children's favourite The Beano(I didn't even know it was still going, to be honest). He is called 'Wayne's in Pain' and is an accident prone chracter suffering from numberous injuries at any one time, created by 7yr old James Thompson from Sheffield.
On the BBC website James is quotes as saying: ""Wayne was based on the fact I went through a period of small accidents, which meant I had injuries."

Have you ever met a seven year old child that talks like this?

Cause me pain, Heidi Slimane

I am in love with the House of Holland t-shirts with slogans relating to British designers such as 'Cum Again Christopher Kane' and 'Get yr freak on, Giles Deacon'. I want one quite a lot.

However, what I want more is to create my own with my favourite scientists on. 'Kiss me Quick, Francis Crick' anyone? Maybe inapropriate, he is dead. I was thinking of a philosophy range too, perhaps involved the rhyming of 'Kant' and 'Pant' but who knows. i certainly intend to make some after my exams are over.

Speaking of which, I am still short many many thousands of words on my dissertation so, goodbye!

Worky work work work

This has made me LOL a lot today, and was clearly written by someone both intelligent and probably hot too.

The whole 'we've found kryptoinite!" thing though, seriously. It's not, is it? It's a substance with the same molecular composition as the FICTIONAL rock had, which it was probably given because nothing with that composition had been found yet. I love that one scientist has had to state "I'm afraid it's not green and it doesn't glow either - although it will react to ultraviolet light by fluorescing a pinkish-orange," because no doubt, someone would have thought it really was kryptonite. And it doesn't even contain Flourine, which the rock in the film did.

Well, whatever it takes to get the British public interested in science, I suppose. I'm probably just being a boring science undergrad who doesn't like anyone enjoying something that I think only people with years of education can understand. Yet, I constantly bemoan the lack of science education and understanding in thie country. Can you spell hypocrite? (I can't, I had to use spellcheck)

In which I mention slightly risque subjects...

I just found an issue of Scarlet Magazine (cheap looking website, I could make that) which I bought about two years ago now (actually, my boyfriend at the time bought it: porn was one of his research interests. Genuinely.). It billed itself as this revolutionary magazine: "Scarlet will never patronise you or support tired stereotypes; men aren't all bastards, women can (and do) enjoy porn, and we don't all dream of being a size 10."

Never patronise? In the issue I have one of the articles is entitled: "Men: are they really scared of commitment?'. In it, three men give their opinions on this. Apparently, yes they are. But just because they are scared women will make them listen to Robbie Williams and watch Friends instead of going to the pub. Right.

The 'Cliterature' (see what they did there?) we get supposedly steamy stories for women. I have no idea what woman is turned on by these, but they're laughable. Any story that refers to a man's genitilia using the word 'member' is hardly sexy, is it? And apparently we all want a tanned hunk with a six pack to dominate us. I've totally been going wrong there all these years, then. And some of the lines....I am not going to write them there, but, oh god. If anyone said any of them to me during sex, I'd laugh hysterically, pick up my clothes, and leave. Have a look at a sample here.

Moving on, the problem page PASSES JUDGEMENT on people writing in to ask about certain sex acts ("are you sure this still sounds like fun?"). Erm, very liberated there, yes. And there's an article on how, actually, giving oral sex isn't all that bad really, so women, try it! Wow, pretty daring there guys.

Add some pseudo femminism about taking back the word 'c**t' (am I the only girl not really offended by that? All it makes me think of is Simon Amstell: "I can't say that because I haven't go an umbrella." I happen to think there are bigger issues facing women today, and isn't this story a little old?) and I think I would quite like to burn this magazine in some kind of ritual.
Basically, it's 'porn' for women who think going to Anne Summer makes them a bit naughty, and who still identify with Bridget Jones is a role model (don't get me started on her. Lose some fucking weight and get a decent boyfriend! Or shut up.)

In a similar theme, I found facebook group (if you ever want to get really angry about something, just look at facebook) for 'Things men shouldn't do during sex' that has clearly been founded by a group of girls who think going on top is pretty crazy. Sadly, some of my friends are in it. What's wrong with girls today? Sex is fun, you know.

And fuck you Scarlet, I'd quite like to be a size ten as well.