“They don’t teach these things at school, they just lay down the rules which are there for you to break…”
Good point odd man from Mystery Jets! It’s very true. The things I’ve learnt since leaving school that aren’t facts and things you have to learn like times tables or science etc... In fact, I have found that the majority of moral and social lessons taught in school are contradicted.
Here are some examples:
If you work hard, you’ll be clever – Up to a point, I supposed, but really it’s all down to genetics. You do learn this in school, actually, you just don’t realise it until you’re a bit older.
You need to be clever to do well – A very important lesson they don’t teach children is that what really matters is that you’re happy in your job, and you’re good at it. Far too much attention is put on getting a ‘good’ job. Doctor = ‘good job’ = happy?... not if you’re a shit doctor! People say, “Do what you love, and the money will follow.” I think most teachers are too bitter to advocate things like this, but really, all you need is a good amount of determination and mountains of luck.
Bad things happen to bad people – Or, they get incredibly rich.
Nice guys finish last – It’s far more beneficial to be charming than to be intelligent.
It’s good to be clever – …But no one likes a smart-arse.
"Can I get your hand to write on Just a piece of leg to bite on What am I to fly my kite on Do you want to flash a light on Take a look it’s on display - for you Coming down no not today
Did you meet your fortune teller Get it off with no propeller Do it up it’s always stellar What a way to finally smell her Pick it up, but not too strong - for you Take a piece and pass it on
Fly away on my zephyr I feel it more than ever And in this perfect weather We’ll find a place together Fly on my wind
Rebel and a liberator Find a way to be a skater Rev it up to levitate her Super friendly aviator Take a look it’s on display - for you Coming down no not today"
... beg your pardon?
What exactly do these lyrics mean, does anyone know? I doubt it. Look at the words. Yes, they're words. As words go, there some good 'uns - but what do they mean? There is a very thin sort of meaning to these lyrics, but they're so unapparent that it's not worth mentioning.
These are all grammatically correct sentences, which could be said individually, and the concepts are a little odd, but not beyond the stretch of the imagination. Personally, I think these lyrics are awesome. There will certainly be the odd ninny who says how it doesn't make any sense so they're bad lyrics, but generally I think that people will tell you that they like these lyrics.
They're interesting, unique, you've probably never heard a song that said, "super friendly aviator" before, and maybe never knew what the word "zephyr" meant before you'd listened to this.
I'm not saying Anthony Kiedis is a modern-day genius or anything, I realise that they're not the most sophisticated lyrics, but this is an example of the thousands of awesome songs that use nonsensical lyrics to great rhythmical effect that's fun to listen to.
Valentines is coming up, and I just stumbled upon these fantastic cookies on Not So Humble Pie.
The lovely biscuits have romantic phrases such as 'Wanker' and 'Die in a fire' on them.
I'm thinking of making some myself, along similar lines. It's like sugaring a pill, except the other way around... pilling a sugar, yes, exactly. What would you like to put on a cookie? Everything's hilarious when it's written in icing.
Let me introduce you to my good friend Applofee pie. Apploffee pie is a cousin of bannoffee pie, only younger, a bit cheekier, and much much yummier. I have no photos because I am currently devouring the last of the first batch, round two is coming up tomorrow.
Here's how to make it, though I must say that measurements don't really matter because it depends on how big you want it to be, obviously. It really is a piece of piss, but not literally because that's unhygienic and disgusting. It almost makes me sad that something so yummy is so easy to make.
Ingredients:
Digestive Biscuits
Butter
Apples
Cinnamon
Carnation Caramel
Double Cream
Icing Sugar
Chocolate
For the base, it's just a cheesecake base really, so fuck up some digestive biscuits until they're crumbs, and then mix in melted butter. It's important not to add too much butter, otherwise the base will be stodgy and gross.
Press the base into either a spring form tin or a baking dish and bake in the oven for about 10-15 minutes.
Peel and cut the apples into medium sized cubes, add a very tiny amount of cinnamon and either bake in the oven or microwave until they're soft all the way through, but not over cooked.
When the base has been out of the oven and cooled down completely, spread the caramel about 1cm thick all over it, and then put the apples (which should also be cooled down) over this.
Add a little bit of icing sugar to the double cream (1 tbsp) and whisk it until it's got nipples, or whatever they say for meringue normally. If it doesn't thicken then add another tablespoon, but not too much.
Pop the whisked up cream on top of the apples.
Melt a little bit of chocolate and drizzle that on top as well.
Put in the fridge for a bit so everything sets all properly and nice, like.
EAT!
You don't have to put cinnamon in, and also you can make your own caramel but I didn't fancy my chances so I bought the carnation one which is exactly the same anyway.
I made it with apples because I don't like banana, and personally I think it's truly scrumptious.
I know a lot of people who have just finished being hectic Helgas after many university deadlines... so now it's time for a nice nap or two... and some apploffee pie... Why 7, you ask? Well, because quality is better than quantity, my dears!
7. Goodnight – The Magic Numbers
6. Lullaby – The Cure
Equally about sleeping as it is about paedophiles, I still like this song.
5. Golden Slumbers – The Beatles
4. Lay Lady Lay – Bob Dylan
Ok, so maybe this one's not completely about sleeping, but it's got a bed in it and it's a beautiful song. Pervy old Dylan.
3. Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me – The Smiths
I have yet again become victim to the frequent urge that is night-time housework. It seems to me to be a uniquely female thing: the impulse to clean late at night.
I was always waking up in the middle of the night when I was little and finding my mum scrubbing the bathtub, or cleaning out the insides of cupboards. Really late at night seems to be the only time when odd bits of cleaning can get done. If you work all day, there's really no other time for you to do housework, apart from a day off, but screw that for a bottle of Mr Muscle!
It's probably because these are the odd jobs that you know you will never be inspired or remember to do later. You're never going to be in the mood to wipe the skirting boards, or dust each one of your ornamental teapots, and you're never going to have the time or energy, so you might as well do it now.
I know for a fact that other girls I know get this at times. I have never seen or heard of a man doing this. Why is that? Non-chauvinistic answers on a postcard, and chauvinistic ones written across some boobs in sharpie.
Because it was brought to my attention the other day that not enough people have listened to enough Jackson 5. What's not to love about mowtown/disco? Here is a cute little MJ dressed like a pimp.
Ps. YouTube - there is a shocking lack of Jackson 5 songs about! Pull your tube-socks up!
The other day when it was snowing, here are the first few songs that played on shuffle:
Here Comes The Sun - The Beatles
Shiver - Coldplay
Snow (Hey Oh) -Red Hot Chili Peppers
Maybe it's just that I have a lot of weather-themed songs on my ipod. Maybe my ipod's sense of humour is as ridiculous as my own.
But also, do you ever find that your shuffle plays appropriate songs at certain times? Like when it's sunny it'll play Bob Marley, or when it's dark it's usually Coldplay or Keane or something stupid and depressing like that. It's very likely that I only notice this when it happens, but it's equally possible that my ipod is a sick bastard.
Little darling... I feel that ice is slowly melting... it feels like years since it's been clear...
Sometimes I intentionally throw something I really like away, just so I don't become too attached to it. Maybe that's a bit weird, but I don't want to become obsessed with objects. If you own something for a certain amount of time, sometimes you feel obliged to keep it, just because you've had it for so long. It's time to throw those socks away, because they can't possibly keep you feet warm anymore.
It's all about the memories attached to the objects that can't be thrown away, or break, or have tea spilt on, or get lost, or be sat on, or be sold for drugs money, or be eaten by the cat... That's all I need. If I forget about it, then it obviously wasn't important enough in the first place.
Bonsoir mes petites meshuggenahs, I have been away for troplongtemps, jelesais, jelesais...
So, I know you don't care what I've been doing, but... I've been doing lots of uni work. I didn't do any over the Christmas holidays and this is my punishment. However, I have now done all my work except for one essay, and so I am allowed to blog now. Not that I have anything of any use to say.
The worst thing, I think, about writing is that it involves a lot of sitting down. I don't mind writing for an entire day, but then at the end of it all it's as if you can feel the muscle mass dripping off your legs and into a slushy heap on the floor. Then, when I try to stand up to make a cup of tea (one of the few moments of physical exertion in a writer's day) one of my legs will snap under the weight of my massive brain (which has obviously grown considerably in size because of all the writing shit I've been doing).
Then I'll have no choice but to crawl to the kettle, and we all know that's not a good idea because the kitchen floor really is horrifically dirty. Starchy Archie may be making a guest appearance sometime soon, I fear.
Oh my goodness, also, I hope everyone had a good new year if I wasn't with you at the time. And if I was with you at the time, I hope I didn't ruin it for you. MazelTov!
Ps. This anti-semitic spellchecker is telling me that mazel tov isn't a word.
Ok, so I am working very hard (which is why there's been no posts around here lately, I'm as swamped as a swamp monster, which I'm sure most of you are too, what with uni deadlines and the like...) but, I found this video doing research and I just had to share it. I promise the Beatles related videos will stop soon. Though how soon I am unable to divulge.
Yes, I promise it is part of my work I am doing. I may post it on here after it's been submitted, because it is rather cool.
May I recommend 3:48 for yet another awesome Ringo moment.
Sophie formed from the mould found on the bottom of a writer's mug of tea. Not much is known about the writer, except that they were shite.
A considerable amount is known about the mug, however: it was a white mug with The Beatles images on the side. Many believe this is the cause of many of Sophie's traits, such as her pale shiny skin and her treatment of The Beatles like Gods.
Some might say Sophie talks too much crap. Some might say her use of large font is quite irritating. Some might say she’s a twat. All of these are true of course, but you’re the one reading the blog so now who’s the twat, eh?
This is the blog of Sophie, and her adventures, thoughts and opinions.