I am useless at Christmas.

I tend to get really excited mid September for a few days a bit before my birthday, and then I pretty much forget about it, and put off buying presents etc, because I think I have LOADS of time, until about the 22^nd of December. At this point I usually realise that I actually don’t have loads of time, only a couple of days in fact, which may be plenty for an organised person, but really isn’t for me. So then I spaz around town for eight hours, picking out crappy presents that I really like but will just obtain raised eyebrows from my friends (last year I got my mum a remote control rat that had sticky feet so it could climb up walls and this year I bought a thing like a cookie cutter but its for toast and says ‘fuck you’ on it. I think I’ll give it to my dad or Craig), and then get home and stay up all night (life on the edge, I know) sticking bits of shell to cardboard for everyone I couldn’t find anything real for.

Also, until a few years ago I used to be in charge of sorting out the tree, which was ridiculous because I always forgot about that too. Then one year I actually didn’t get anything sorted until about five minutes before Christmas, and we ended up with a branch off of our neighbours’, stuck in an urn with some fairy lights and a defaced Barbie on top, and now I’m not allowed to be in charge of anything important, which is probably quite a good idea actually.

Here is a nice music video from youtube featuring some of Newcastles’s finest.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dF5xVnTo8gs

The one on the far right looks like Katie.

Personal Statement

Dear University
Hi, my name is Fran and I really love history, especially reading books about it like '1066 and All That' and those ones about that lady doctor in the middle ages by Barry Norman's wife. I once read one with real facts in from the college library, although it was a bit wordy so after a while I started making a collage out of Quality Street wrappers instead.
As well as being able to read, my skills include peeling oranges, throwing things for my cat to chase and not giving up smoking. Also, I am a whizz in the kitchen and can make a variety of dishes such as scrambled egg, mushrooms with herbs, and pancakes, which if you ate them one after the other, you might be justified in calling a three course meal.
I once volunteered to do gardening for a Native American tribe which shows that I am nice, although I got sunburn and loads of blisters and they didn't say thankyou so I probably wouldn't do that again.
Because of my discussed traits I think I would be a real benefit to your university and you should definately hire me or whatever.
P.S. I don't really have any money, but if you want to waive the fees I will totally cook all your meals for you. Hope you're looking forward to scrambled egg every morning! xxx

Let the fun filled Anglo-Saxon extravaganza voyage commence...

In 15 hours (perhaps, we’re not very good at the whole counting thing) we (we being Fran and Katie) are departing for a fun filled, adventure ridden Anglo-Saxon extravaganza voyage to Suffolk. Jokes. It’s actually a death trip where our demise is inevitable, whether it be by hypothermia or getting on the wrong side of a drunken, history-crazed, Geordie ex-marine. As if this wasn’t bad enough, there are only FOUR of us going. It is going to be like a fucking family outing where we’re the (overgrown) adopted children being dragged around with force to look at decrepit monuments and ancient hats without a trace of appreciation or integrity. And it’s sodding cold, and that’s not an over reaction, I checked BBC Weather. It’s -5.

Pray for us.

Ginger Slut Luker + Captain Crime Wilkes.

How to (temporarily) get away with not doing any work

For some reason*, I seem to be doing archaeology at college, for which we get set about four hundred and twelve essays a week. I have neither the will nor the brain power to do most of these essays, but unfortunately my mum knows this, and is insistent that I should and constantly threatens to lock me in the utility room or take away my wine and friends if I don’t get on with it. Consequently, I have become quite the expert at making it look like I have written pages and pages of fantastic shit, when in fact I just sit around eating tangerines and drawing on my face with felt tips. Anyway, I thought I’d share with you, seeing as I’m actually avoiding doing one right now and we don't have any tangerines left. I know, I’m amazing.

1. Firstly, you actually have to do a bit of work, however, this bit isn’t very strenuous and means you can relax later. So open up a word document on your computer and type out the title. Maybe even add a few bullet points for good measure, e.g.

“Archaeology makes everyone want to die” Discuss

• 2 main views –  the “No way, flint is awesome!” view (Phil from Time Team), and the “Abso-fucking-lutely, just thinking about megaliths makes me puke blood” view (everyone else)
• Hillforts suck
• but mud is quite good 

This way, if a parent comes to check on your work you can show them how mature you are ‘cause you PLAN shit now.

Now, you can reward yourself by drawing a dolphin hugging a barracuda or something fun like that.

2. Before you get too carried away with marine fantasies, copy and paste a couple of paragraphs from one of the (two) essays you’ve managed to complete in your rare moments of diligence and commitment. If you’ve never had any of these moments, get something from the internet. When parent next comes to check on progress under the guise of tea bringer, you can be like “LOOK, I’VE WRITTEN LOADS I’M GREAT” and everyone will be happy. If they ask to read your ‘work’, say “Of course, I know you’ll really enjoy all the statistics and long words I’ve included” and they will fuck right off.

Carry on with the dolphins.

3. Repeat step 2 as many times as necessary.

Yay, now you’re mum thinks you’re clever and committed and won’t be able to hold this against you next time you’re shit and unorganised.

Tips for authenticity: have open books draped on desk/floor/self to give impression of ‘extra reading’, make typing noises periodically so they don’t get suspicious and/or think you have some kind of super power where you can type silently.

The finished product

*I had a series of moronic thoughts when choosing college courses including “Ooh archaeology will make me like Phil from Time Team yay I love mud” and “hmm, I read a book with the word ‘philosophy’ in it once when I was twelve, that must be the course for me!”

***** Whilst this is a brilliant technique, it is not perfect, as sometimes teachers notice when you hand in essays which are shorter than the title*****

This is stupid.
But my mum is awesome; she came to pick me up from college today so I didn't have to wait forty years for the bus + she didn't miss her dentist appointment.