Saturday, 26 June 2010

Bernie Nolan - A True Inspirational Person

I want to post on here how much I am rooting for Bernie Nolan. She is my idol, not only is she beautiful, she is the best singer in the world and a talent actress. I saw The Nolans tour last year, they all have amazing energy like you'd never believe but Bernie is something else. Bernie was made to preform and entertain. She has the engery of a teenager although she is pushing 50. It's playing on my mind that this wonderful lady is going to go through an awful time over the next year or so. Cancer is evil but it has picked on the wrong person in Bernie as I know she will kick it's arse out of her. She will be back and as wonderful as ever once she has fought it off. Bernie reminds me a lot of Bette Davis, she's extremely talented, has real character and a lot of guts just like Bette, there is also a resemblance in their looks too.

It makes me pretty angry that know one has snapped Bernie with a big record deal. She should have a album with completely new songs on. Her first solo album is brilliant but it's mainly covers of other peoples songs. Forget Christina Aguilera who is supposedly the best singer in the world, she isn't, she has no control over her voice. Christina can reach all kinds of notes but so can Bernie. On The Nolans tour they covered two Christina songs, Bernie certainly showed Christina a thing or two, she can reach all the same notes but with one major diffrence, she has control over her voice. As for Leona Lewis, well lets just say Bernie can match her in voice too, except Bernie has more personality in her little finger then Leona has in her whole body. Bernie wiped the floor with P!nk, her cover of So What is a million times better then P!nks crappy version. So Bernie has a lot over these American singers, yet she hasn't so far been treated right, she should definately be signed to do a new solo album. It would be great if some of these song writters could get together and write some songs with Bernie, especially whilst she is ill. It would give her something positive to focus on while she is ill, she could also put her emotions down on paper. Once she has recoverd she could record the songs in the studio and go on tour. I wouldn't say no to another Nolans tour either.

Lets face it young people don't know what the hell to do or how to entertain, it's all just sex, sex, sex. We need a good strong female character with a mind blowing voice like Bernie's out there in the industry. Bernie is the only person in my mind who fits the bill. She can do anything she wants, pop, musical theatre, opera the list is endless. So Bernie, if you happen to stumble apon this blog (which I doubt) you kick are girl, I love you and hope the treatment is as painless as possible and you make a full recovery. Hold you head high you are an inspiration.

Bye For Now

The Vixen xxx

Tuesday, 22 June 2010

Bloody Hair! And My Ex Neighbours!

Right for a start I paid fifty quid to have my hair permed today. It came out the rollers very tight and big. I loved it, finally after years of heavy, thick unbelieveably straight hair it is curely. Well guess what? As the evening is going on my hair is getting patches of straight hair! I am so pissed off you wouldn't believe it. My shitty hair is obviously trying to resist the perm! I read it could happen but my hair dresser reasured me it wouldn't happen. Why is it that I got a feeling this barstard hair of mine would do this? It's bloody typical, well I will say this now, it's not going to be straight, if it doesn't stay permed or gets really patchy it's gonna be chopped off! Fuck it! When I want something, I dame well bloody have it! I want curely hair and that is what I am gonna have, I will chop and shave this shit on my head off and invest in a good wig. I don't give two monkey's what the bloody public think, they can laugh at me all they like. I will wear my current wig that I own until I can afford an expensive good one. I don't give two tuppeny buggers what any body thinks it my shit hair, they aren't looking in the mirror after drying their hair and finding they look like Dougal (from The Magic Roundabout) who has had an encounter with hair straighteners! I have never used straighteners on my hair, never have needed too. Bloody hair, I will give it a burn tomorrow with the tongs, my hair dresser told me not to do anything to it for at least two days but she didn't think it was gonna start dropping. I'll burn the hell out of it, it ain't staying straight! The fucking irony of all this nothing else about me is straight.

The Ex Neighbours

Anyway after that little rant! I wanna talk about this neighbour I had. His was just like Alf Garnet and his wife looked like Dot Cotton from Eastenders, she was an ex porzzy. They were a mean old couple and well lets just say they had anger issues that I tried to help them express ;). He use to drink and drive and the police were after him. Every Friday his wife had a cleaning job for a few hours in the morning. As I spent most of my teenage years at home, as I had a shit whole for a school and never went as there was no point, I would be at home on Fridays. Just before they were due back, I use to wash the communal hall way, I'd make it as wet and as soapy as possble. Then I'd eagerly wait behind the door for them to come in. We had this little spy hole in the front door so I could see them too. They always took the bait with comments like "Oh what a mess!" or "Bloody Swimming Pool" or "Whats been going on here then!" She would stand there staring at the floor in disgust, I was normally behind the door almost pissing myself with laughter. Then I decided to have some more fun with them, when they would go out I would stich the fither duster through the letter box and watch their reaction, she would normally say something like "Your as mad as the March heir" once she grabbed the duster and pulled it through the letter box, then she dropped it on the floor. He would put his finger to his head and give me the screw lose sign. They didn't seem to comprehend that when they were trying to be nasty they were actually being side splittingly funny. Ever since my parents and I had moved to that flat we had been getting annoying post. We knew the source of the post so I decided to give them the same in return except I went one step better. I was looking through a cheap TV listings one day and found a sent no money now ad. I filled out hundreds of those ads in silly names. Her silly made up name was Maude Daisy Beatrice Shipman and his was Paul Wesley Angus Shipman. They got lots of packages, it was so funny and I looked forward to the postman coming or a delivery van pulling up. Often the delivery person or the postman wouldn't bother knocking on the door so they would come out or come back from somewhere and find a nice parcel on the doorstep. It was side splittingly funny watching them pick the package up and finding it wasn't for them but had their address on it. Then the next day I'd watch them getting in the car taking it to the post office.

It was always fun to hang around on the communal hallway. You'd hear him swearing and shouting at the TV. He use to have the TV up full volume, so you can imagine the noise that came out of their flat. If I was luck I would get to hear them arguing. I think she was in her early 70's and he was in his late. He was so much like Alf Garnet it was pretty spokey! Anyhow, I stepped my game up again and invested some money into my project. I bought a mobile phone and gave them them some silent or extremely noisy phone calls. The silent ones were the best, he would pick the phone up and I would stay quiet and then he'd start swearing and calling me names. It was priceless, I enjoyed it so much, that I almost became addicted to it. They never took their phone off the hook or unplugged it, not even at night. It was like they enjoyed the wind ups. Also I use to call them names, I called her "monkey features" as she looked like a chimp and him "letter" box as I thought he looked like one. He had some names for me too, the main one being "the bloody nutcase." Whenever something went wrong, I would encourage my parents to put it on the communal hallway until they could get to the dump. Once my my mums drier broke down and I helped her put it out on the hallway. Of course as usual they took the bait, she stood and stared at it and waited for him to come over from the garage. Then they stood and swore and moaned about it.

One summer, a local school had had a clear out of old furniture. My mum and I were walking past and we thought it would be a good idea to suprize them with a couple of chairs. I mean, it was a very generous idea in my opinion ;). So we took a chair each and hid them under a bush until it got dark, then we sneaked out and put them in their garden. One each side of their rose bush. I got exactly what I wanted, a reaction! They came out and were looking at the chairs in their garden through the window on the landing, he said "bloody things!" Then he went down to the garden to take a closer look at them. One of our other neighbours was walking past and he asked them if they had seen anyone. They said "no" and "it was probably just kids." The chairs remained in their garden for almost a week. Then he loaded them in the car and drove to the dump.

I don't know if a mentioned earlier that he was a drink driver and had been done for it before, so he was very close to losing his licents. The police hated him almost as much as the people on our estate did. Anyway, one day he was driving down after picking her up from the hair dressers. The police were following him and he pulled up outside, they stopped him right infront of all the neighbours and did a breath test. He was well over the limit as he drunk Scotch from 4am in the morning until 11pm at night. Of course I had to help him express his anger, once again. I stood at the window and pulled the net certain back and gave him the biggest grin I could master. His was about to explode, he started ranting to the police about me. By the time he got them to look up at the window, I, of course, was gone.

Well in the end I did get into trouble for all the wind ups. When I was 17, the police arrested me for putting up posters to annoyed the old couple. One I put up just after he got arrested for drink driving. I drew a picture of a tandam and put a for sale on the sign along with the police station number. I put a picture of Dot Cotton on their front door and put her name and said Dot was her double. Some other neighbours did join in the wind up, this 10 year old boy and his mother. The boy would order them pizzas and call them taxi's, then he'd text me so I could wait for the commotion. His mother drew a picture by hand of the old woman dress in stockings and holding a wip, and wrote Madame Wiplash on the picture, we hung it on the lanp post out side. I was a good christian girl in those days and went to church every Sunday evening. One Sunday I decided to put up a ad on the church message board for a large fridge, free. Guess whoes phone number went on the ad? Yes the old codgers number. Anyway they took everything to the police and I got a caution, I couldn't contain myself in the police station, I kept laughing and enjoyed being there. My mum had to come with me and the police man as I was still a minor, as soon as I got out the police car I was grinning from ear to ear, I said to my mum "this is just like being in The Bill" (The Bill is a UK police drama), it liturally was almost the same, especially out the back, there was detectives out having a smoke and everything. In the interview room I was laughing too. When it came to me having my finger prints taken I played a track on the police woman. I had face powder on, so I touched my face with my fingers so when the police woman put my hand on the machine the finger prints weren't recognised. I did this and it took her ages to take my finger prints. She didn't work it out. I got these two pieces of paper which said I had been cautioned, was told of by a senior officer and driven back home in the police car. It was a fun day out believe it all not. The caution was worth all the laughs I had got out of the wind ups over the years. God, it's scary to think 7 years ago I was a naughty healthy 17 year old, a far cry from who I am today. In fact now I tell people how old I am and they are shocked, as I have physically aged due to illness and medication, I look in my early 30's and know one who sees me denies it. I am far more mature then what I was when I was 17, but one thing I will make clear, that old couple deserved everything they got, they made many peoples life a misery. Anyway I don't live there anymore I live alone now in a quiet private flat.

Friday, 18 June 2010

Feeling Alone And Thinking Too Much

I was ok earlier, I felt fine. Today has been pretty uneventful, I have seen no one it's just been me and the cat. I got up at 12.30pm to take the shopping in that Sainsbury's divered. I took my old nail varnish off and then felt extremely tired. What made me tired was bringing in the shopping, I know that doesn't sound like a lot but to me it is, my heart rate went up and I started to sweat. So I sat down until I could get my barings back and then moved the bags from the hall in to the kitchen, there they remain still. I will unpack the stuff as I need it, I did put the cold stuff away that needed to go in the fridge but the rest is still in the bags, I was/am too wiped out to unpack them all. So after watching the afternoon news I went back to bed until 5.30pm when I got up to watch Neighbours. After Eastenders there was basicly nothing on, so I just put QVC on (my favourite channel) I treated myself to a Leighton Denny nail care kit, it was at a fair price so I thought why not? I love Leighton Denny's range he was on QVC today, it's him who is inspiring me to want to do a manicure course. Then I could have a little business from home like my hairdresser does. I really love glamour and make-up. I got my first eyeliner when I was ten. It wasn't that I wanted to attract anyone, it was that I wanted to feel grown up and also was fasinated by the make-up, for me it's like art. My face is the canvas. I love treating my hands and painting my nails too, I made my hands really soft last Saturday when I used some of this treatment designed by Leighton Denny. No LOL I am not on his pay role I just love his products.

But anyhow, right now I feel very alone. Earlier I was fine, but now I have started thinking. I'm thinking about how in love I am with someone I can't have. It's a hopeless situation, I am fine one minute and the next it hits me. I adore her, her accent, her tattoos, her beautiful brown eyes, her cute little nose with a little stud in it, her mouth and lips they are so sweet, she has this cute little line that has developed over the past few monthes. She is a smoker and it's causing her to get mouth lines but I love them. I love the stale smoke small of her. And as for her personality well she would blow anyone away, she is a fiesty, opinionated, and bitchey but she has a wonderful heart and is warm, she like animals too. She has a teenage son. She has had her problems but is now on track. She is so imperfectly perfect if you get what I mean. This not a La Vie En Rose kind of love and that is what makes it harder I think. But anyway my love is in vain. So I am trying to take my mind off her and meet people online, maybe even someone I could date. But it's hard to get anybody interested. I think the trouble is I like older people. It's actually funny because gay people are always campaining for freedom of love, yet it is still tabboo in their eye that a woman in her 20's can love a woman in her 40's. It's very hypocritical.

So I guess I may as well have been alive in the 1940's or 50's. Of course I wouldn't have be able to have a relationship but I don't think it's going to happen for me in this era anyway. But at least I might have enjoyed some kind of life. I would love to have been in London during the war, sounds weird, huh? Working in a factory, hearing the air rade sirens and running down into the shelters or the underground station. My mums mother was a Ren and my mums father (my nice grandad) who died when I was 3, he fought in World War II, he suffered from terrible shell shock and use to shout in his sleep and all. He was a great man, I don't remember him much even though we lived with him but I do remember sitting on his lap whilst he drunk tea. His house in which we were living too, was like something you would have got in the 40's, he built it himself and his brother built a bunglow next door. There was no heating in the house, so in winter it was freezing in all the rooms except the kitchen and the living room where there was a log fire. There were apple, pear and plum trees at the bottom of our garden. We also had a pond although it wasn't particularly a nice one it needed cleaning badly. Across the road from the house are field with horses, my mum become friendly with some of the owners so I got to ride the horses. There are two I remember particularly. Melody who was a beautiful brown colour and Alfie a Shetland Pony. Alfie bit me once, I remember that well but I loved them. Then in 1990 my grandad died and my mum had to try and fight her sisters. They wanted to sell the house right away but that ment we'd have to move and we didn't have any money except my mums share of the money that would be made from the sale of the house. They are not nice people my aunts four/five years ago I tried to get involved with them but soon found out what type of people they are. Anyway one of them lives in Australia so we don't know how involved she was, but I believe she was involved more then we know. My aunt Susan used to come and regularly rade our house, she go through draws, pick things up and burn them. She was a vile woman and out of my mums three sisters she is the most normal one, scary huh? My aunt Lucy was a cold hearted bitch, she wrote nasty letters to my mum. These are not undereducated people from a poor back ground these women had grown up in that lovely house my grandfather had built. They never wanted for anything. But they took my mum to court and they won the case. My mum was told to get rid of all our cats, my brother was heart broken. But one of the cats that had gone missing came back after my mum rehomed the others. So we were moved to this really awful council estate. It was a fowl place and the house it's self was just down right horrible. This estate was so awful that murders were taking place there. We were all terribly unhappy. One day my mum said she couldn't stand looking after the cats tray and insisted the cat went out. We had only been there a week or so. My brother, my mum and I took the cat to the back garden. My brother put him down and he bolted, never to be seen again. My mum regrets that to this day.

Anyway I will stop now, I don't want to write my life story in one post. I will write some more tomorrow. I actually didn't come on here with the intention of writting all that stuff lol. I just want to write how lonely I feel now but my mind deviated, as ever hehe.

Bye For Now

The Vixen xxxx

Thursday, 17 June 2010

The Truth About Great Britain

This is going to come as a suprize to many people who live outside the UK, but Britain isn't a nice place to be. I am British so I know what I am talking about, I have lived here all my life and quite frankly I am misrable.

Immigration & It Effect on Jobs

This may offend some of you outside the UK but we do not need anymore immigrants here. Under the Labour government immigration went out of control. I am not aware of any changes in the policy now we are under Conservitive/Libral Democrate government, but I hope it does change. Before I was struck down with M.E, I use to work, my first job was at a nice little private school but it got closed down due to corruption. After being made redundant finding another job was impossible, I applied for forty jobs between July and September 2006. Only about two of them had the decentcey to bother sending me a sorry letter. It got to the point were my redundantcey money was running out so I had to claim Job Seeks Allowance. I continued to try for jobs but to no avail. Finally in December 2008 I got offered an interview with South West Trains. I traveled all the way to Basingstoke, when I got there I found including me there were three British people going for the same job but there were about seven Nigerian women also out for the same job. We were all asked for identity, one of the Nigerian women didn't have her passport, they made allowances for her. Then they got round to me, I had forgotten to bring a utility bill but I had my passport and other ID. They started questioning whether or not to let me take the test for the job. They did let me in the end. Sadly I failed the test. See I was suffering from M.E at the time but i didn't realize it, it wasn't as bad, but my eyesight was affected and everything seemed so bright and the words moved on the paper. It's worse now but at least I know why everything is brighter for me. I thought I was dyslexic and mentioned this to the job centre who were able to send me to a work psychologist, who told me I wasn't dyslexic. Anyhow most of the Nigerian women got through to the next stage. I continued to look for work, early in January 2007, I got an interview in a shop which sold pictures and frames. I noted as I went in many of the staff were very young. When I got into the interview I was basicly made to feel bad for NOT being a party girl who goes out clubbing and drinking. Basicly in not so many words they were telling me I was too cultured for them and their staff. At the start of Febuary I managed to get a voluntary job in a school. I worked my ass for four whole days a week, for NO MONEY. It was a very bitchey enviroment too, I was excluded from any social events. But I loved the childern an that is why I stayed there. But it was working there that made my M.E take a strong hold, I had to walk there everyday a mile each way, that is not so bad. But I kept picking up flu and bad colds. Plus try and do that long walk. The job centre were really getting funny with me over the fact I was working all those hours and claiming job seekers. But they found that you can do as much voluntary work as you like whilst claiming job seekers so long as it's for the government, and this was a state school so I was working for the government. Then in April that year they made me go for this interview with this hair dresser. He gave me a job, but I paid a massive price, as I will tell you now, he sexually assulted me. Basicly he told me I had the job and told me to start Monday, how stupid was I, I should have realized hair salons are not normally open Monday's. He shut me in the place and was like a cat with a mouse, then put his hand down my top. I got out of there in the end. But no authority ever found out as it would have been my word against his. Just two monthes later I broke down and took an overdose of Paracetamol. Then that summer I was told BY THE JOB CENTRE ADVISERS that I wasn't fit for work. Ever since I have been on Income Support. So that is just one way this country has been affected by immigration, our jobs are all taken. Yes there are some Brits that don't want to work BUT there are others that do, I know, I was one of them and still am. I am thinking of setting my own business up from home.

Young British People & Drugs and Alchohol

Another thing I dispise about this country is the whole drinking culture. You cannot go out on a Friday and Saturday evening to the theatre and not see a group of sluts, going clubbing already drunk. I stay at home on those nights now as I can't help but have a go at those whores. My parents have two little sluts living below them. They were there for two years, the evil little barstards would go out every weekend and come home at 2 or 3am totally piss. Then they smoke outside and scream and shout. They'd go inside and scream and shout and play music. These were not common council house sluts these were middle classed sluts. My mum complained about them and was told that they were respectable young women with good jobs. WHAT FUCKING RETARDED ARSE HOLE CLASSES THAT AS RESPECTABLE? Two filthy young sluts going out and getting pissed every weekend. A week before my dad commited suicide they had a kareoke party that went on until 2am. He called the police and they did nothing. A week later my dad was dead, ok it wasn't just them that caused it, but they certainly contributed to it. A month later the the two sluts moved away. They had come, done their evil and moved away once their evil deed was done. I hope they have misrable lives, they will have to live with what they have done. Don't think that those two sluts were an icsolated case, they had lot's of friends with them. Also my cousins on my mothers side were acting in a similar way, one of them had contracted a STI and the other one was suspected of dealing drugs. Again these are not common council house people, my aunt and uncle are business people. They own a big house in Norfork. Both my cousins were (and probably still are) out of control drinking, clubbing and taking drugs. This is an example of young people in the UK.

Now lets talk about the young people who are on the council estates. This is the common thing that happends. Girl gets pregnant so she gets a council house. The father of the baby goes to prison for petty crime comes out, goes in again, goes out, goes in again. When he comes out his dosses around the girls place all day smoking pot. The girl doesn't work and her excuse is she has a baby. The bloke doesn't work, he doesn't try to get a job and even if he did his criminal record is too bad. Then sooner or later the girl gets bored when he is in prison yet again. And finds herself another loser to knock her up. See she needs to have another baby before the first one gets to school age. Then she has an excuse not to work again and is entitled to a bigger coucil place.

Over Development & Corruption

Now this is probably something that every country in the world suffers from. But here it is particularly bad. I use to work in this beautiful little private school. It was a lovely place to work and everyone was happy there. In the summer it was the best place to be, it had rose gardens, lots of wild life and grand beautiful old trees. The buildings were a little shabby but it was a taste of old England. I adored the place. In 2005 it was announced that the school was having money trouble and was basicly in debt. They were in talks about how to move forward, they chose to sell the school and they had two choices, sell it to a big company that specialised in private schools or sell it to another school in the area. People were wrongly suspicous of the company and the school got sold on to the other private school in the area. I am gonna name and shame that school, it is Danes Hill School in Oxshot, Surrey. They bought the school for very little and promised to turn it around. They said they would give it two years. As time went on strange things started to happen. This guy who was a teacher at Danes Hill was bought over to the school I was working at, his job was to promote the school. One day he turned up there in the afternoon, drunk and insulted many parents, this was a set up. It just so happend there was a school trip to Switzerland that afternoon so he knew there would be lots of parents about. There were many other weird things that happend during that school year. Then in May 2006, it was announced the school was going to close. Everyone was in shock the decision was taken by the Danes Hill governers and most importantly an ex MP DAME ANGLA RUMBOLD. The company that had been interested before made an offer to buy the school and save it. But they got turned down. Things went quite for a while then it was announced in the papers the school had been sold for development. Now the whole school has gone, and is being replaced by obnoxous five bedroom houses. I will not pass the site, I don't want to see what is there now. What makes me laugh is, that the residents of that village could have put a stop to the development. But the were bribed by the developers with a new criket pitch and club house. NOW the people of that same village are campaining against a new Tescos being built on the site of an old ESSO garage. They have even gone as far as to put together money for a top lawyer to fight Tescos. They are saying that a Tescos will spoil the special village atmostphere. Um what bigoted hypocrites. The school that I worked at had been there for over 100 years. The main building was even older, Samual Pepys even wrote some of his famous diary under a tree in the ground. The people of this parthetic village are corrupt, bigoted, hypocritical, spoilt, rich, fascist, barstards and I don't care who is insulted by that, because it's the truth. I have even email what I think of them to their residents assocation. And I notice something very interesting which I will bring up in my next topic.

The Work Shy and Lay Abouts

Now, I am sure you imagine a typical British person. I over weight man in his 30's with a can of beer sitting on the sofa playing an X Box all day and smoking pot. Yes we have plenty of them. We also have plenty of girls like Vikki Pollard, poping out babies and getting lots of benefit. Then we have the "I've got a bad back" jobs that claim disability benefit and the secretly work for cash in hand. But what you may not realize is, that the rich barstards are at it too. As I have mentioned before, I have M.E. I used to attend a group which was mainly made up of middle class women. They were claiming benefits! Yes! Can you believe it? That is not all, only one of two of them actaully had M.E. I know because I was there and they were full of life. Whilst I was sitting there yawning, trying not to full asleep and on a few occassions I actually passed out. They were happily chatting away, doing crafts and then driving home afterwards! Now, I can't even stay awake all day, most of the day I am asleep, I wake up later in the day, I have to go and have regular lied downs. Because I now have Fibromyalgia I don't get proper sleep hence why I am awake now. See with Fibromyalgia you don't reach all the sleep stages. Which has a knock on effect on my M.E. Now one of the women that is part of that M.E group is one of the active campainers against the Tescos development. She is in the news papers and has been seen on the street getting people to sign pertitions. I saw her on Chris Grayling's (a UK PM) youtube channel so I couldn't help but comment on there that this woman is rich, claiming disability benefit and I pointed out if she has the energy to campain then she has the energy to go out to work. God knows, I feel strongly about so many things but I don't have the energy to do more then send a nasty email to whatever person or company that is upsetting me. I can't even walk down the road very far and I use a wheelchair. I would love to be able to go out and join animal rights protests and that sort of thing. I live alone and I don't see anyone much except my mum most days. I do see many people from the NHS both at home and in hospital. I do have one or two people visit me and occassionally I see my aunt and her grandchildren. Now the government are cracking down on people claiming benefits, because of the types of people I have mentioned. It will be people like me that will be hurt by this. Thanks to the lazy good for nothing people, I risk losing my piddling amount of money the government let me have. I basicly don't have much of a life but I find things to please myself and keep me ocupied, mainly films and old comedies which I can watch in bed. I have a very good friend who I chat to online nearly every night. But M.E and F.M (abriviation for Fibromyalgia), are real disabling illnesses yet there are the piss takers out there that use them to get benefits. But you can spot them a mile off believe me, if you meet someone with M.E or F.M or both and they can keep their attention on you, go out and be full of life, then yoou have met a faker my friend. You also get the ones that fake mental illness, I hate that too. They go to the doctor and say they are depressed to get signed off work. You have to really studies illnesses to spot all the fakers but once you learn about the illnesses you will be able to spot the fakers. And they are not only the obvious people you see on council estates they are the rich ones too. So be aware, if you know someone claiming unfairly grass them up and get their ass kicked off the benefit.


So it seems Labour has plunged this country in to terrible debt. Now the Tories and Lib-dems have to pick up the pieces. But again they are targetting the wrong things and people. This week my mum when to cash in one of my perscriptions she was told that the medication was unavalible, she went round three chemists before she found one that had the drug in stock and even then they could only give her three as they needed to order more. They told her that it is a very expensive drug. So it's obviously that the government have told chemists not to order the more expensive drugs, I mean this if the first time it has happend and it's too much of a concidence that we have a new government. This particular drug is a powerful anti-emetic, and is used by cancer patients. I have to take it because my M.E causes me to be very sick, I take another anti-emetic too, domperidone. Together they make it so I can eat and drink almost normally, of course I can't eat curry often and things like that. If I stop taking either drug I feel very sick, if I stop them both I am sick and can't even sip water. The government should cut back in other areas, maternity services in the NHS for a start, make people pay for it. That will soon put a stop to all these young woman getting pregnant if they know they would have to pay for maternity services. A guy is gonna think twice about knocking a girl up if he realizes he is gonna have to pay something towards her hospital care. Then there is the transport in London, we have a useless bus service where I live. The trains are not bad providing you travel with South West Trains, Southern Railways are usless. But go up to London and it's fantastic, they should cut a bus or two. Maybe cut a few tube trains. I mean unless you are a wheelchair user you have a lot of options how to travel about in London. So that is another thing they could cut back on. I know what I would dam well do, stop all the fucking bus and tube services on a Friday and Saturday night, that would teach the slut and cunts who want to go clubbing a lession. Another cut back, make anyone who has a none psychological self inflicted illness pay for ambilance and A & E service. Then all the shit that go clubbing and get so drunk they make them selfs ill or end up in a fight will have to pay. And when I say none psychological I mean, if someone is in a poor mental state and harm themself then they should NOT have to pay.

Immigration and It's Other Damages

So that wanker of an ex priminister, Gordon Brown thought that have so many immigarnts was good for the economy. How ignorant was/is he. They come over here take our jobs, yes they work for less money as they are prepered to live in disgusting situations like share a room with 5 other people. They don't spend the money the earn here they send it home. When they leave the country they claim their tax back. So how exactly are immigrants good for the economy? We have a housing shortage, we do not need more people here. We have a high unemployment rate, so where is Gordon Brown's logic? The NHS is stretched to it's limit as we have these people over here. Being part of the EU has damaged the UK! Then we have the two wars that nobody over here wanted but Tony Blair couldn't stop kissing president Bush's arse so we have troops in Afganistan and Iraq. That gives the people of those countries a brilliant excuse to come over. We have illegals getting in here through France. Many of them end up staying here. Milking our system and drying it out.

The Lost Identity of Britain

So people still expect to come herer and hear a lovely accent. See us drinking tea and eating scones. What you will get in reality is, stupid young people trying to speak with an American accent, adding "like" and "oh my god" in to every sentance. They even clone each other and you will hear them speaking in the same tone. You will find the poorer people either speak like an Afrian American or Vikki Pollard. You are very unlikely to be greated with "hello" more like "alright" or "whats up brov." Nobody says "yes" anymore it's now "yeah." You will not find a quiet country village anymore and they are disappearing more and more due to development. Britain is no longer a great country Britania does NOT rule the waves anymore. This country is in a limbo, it's trying to be like America, stick to the EU rules and trying to maintain certain annoying traditions. Even one or two shops where I live close early on a Wednesday afternoon, most of them in that village where they are against Tescos, the shops close early on a Wednesday. We still have the bank holiday's and celebrate Xman and Easter yet hardly anyone here attends church and I would say there are more Muslims in the UK then there are Christians. Cockney is no longer the spoken language of the eastend of London, it's now Urdu. There is no old fashioned Britain anymore, if you watch a classic film or classic comedy made in Britain and you think it's still like that you are in for a massive shock.

Anyway that is it for now I am off to bed.

Take Care

The Vixen xoxo

Tuesday, 15 June 2010

Thank God Today Is Nearly Over

I'm so glad that there is only just over an hour left of today. It has been chaos as I knew it would be. First off I was woken up by the postman delivering my new wig. Bloody Royal Mail, they can't employ some one with good manners, the stupid bloke rang my door bell and then shouted "postman" through the letter box. So I dragged my sorry arse out of bed and answered the door, he handed me the package and off he went. So you'd think I'd get a little piece after that? Oh no, I got back in to bed, then I hear some lorries pull up outside, a few minutes later there was all this crashing around on the communal landing. One of my neighbours was having a new washing machine delivered. I don't understand the mentallity of people, why in gods name do they want to do everything first thing in the bloody morning? Anyway, once all the noise stopped I went back to sleep, I mostly sleep most of the day, I find mornings unpleasant, I don't know why. But I feel more with it in the late afternoon and evening, hence why I don't got to bed until the early hours. It's a weird M.E pattern I think but it's highly inconveniant.

Anyway, so when I woke up this afternoon, I took my first lot of medication for the day, I take Amitriptyline 100mg, Duloxetine 60mg, Domperidone 30mg x 3, Ondansetron 4mg x 2, Thyroxine 25mcg, co-codamol 8/500mg 2 four times aday. Without Domperidone and Ondansetron I wouldn't be sitting here now. Towards the end of 2007, I started vomiting a lot. At first it was mainly in the morning but then it spread to all diffrent times of the day. By January 2008 I was becoming very ill as I could barely eat or drink. By Febuary I was so ill I had to be admitted to hospital as I was dehydrated. I was stuck on a drip taking all kinds of meds until they found the right combination to stablize me. I have had lots of examinations to try and find out why I get so sick but they have found nothing, so the conclusion is what I feared, that it is the M.E that causes my sickness and therefor there is no cure. So anti-emetic medication is something I will probably have to take for life.

My mum came around 2pm, and I got ready to take a trip to Dorking, which is a nice little town near Box Hill. A few weeks ago I saw this beautiful picture of Marilyn Monroe in the window of one of the shops along the high street there. The picture was £40 but I just had to have it so I decided to go all out and have it framed as well, which was £68. So I had to wait for it to be ready and I picked it up today. It's gorgeous, I am so pleased with it. But anyhow the day was not so good apart from that. In order to get out before the shop shut I decided to speed up my beauty routin and wear my new wig. I bought it last week for £16, it looks obviously fake. But I decided it is better to wear a fake but neat and well groomed wig, then take forever trying to curle my hopelessly straight hair and miss the shops. Of course people have no manners, they just have to stare. I was all ways told as a child that it is rude to stare but obviously that is not something that is installed in people anymore, I am sure that went out with a how lot of other manners, in the 1960's. But I could take the staring. I am pretty use to it being in a wheel chair and when I do try and walk I have to use a stick, of course people will stare, I am 24 but have the mobility of an 74 year old. But what really does get to me is people laughing at me, that pisses me off and if I see them and they are in range for me to say something or shout something, I will. I feel kind of strong about how people treated me today, I mean I was wearing the wig because it is sometimes easier for me, I get a lot of pain from my Fibromyalgia, so it can be hard to do my hair, curle it up and style it. But what if I had an illness where I had lost my hair, like when you have clemo to treat cancer. So now, I will wear my wig if I want and I will give people a rocket if the laugh at me, I will not do it for me, I will do it for those people out there who have no choice. I want everyone to be accepted in this world, people should be able to be true to themselfs. If someone is ill and they lose their hair they shouldn't feel bad because of other people.

Apart from the wig business, I was rowing along the street with my mum. We are always rowing now. But we ended up in a pizza resterunt, so you can guess what we had to eat, yes that is right! Pizza! Then I had my favourite pudding, profiteroles with chocolate and vanilla source. Trouble was I was having a problem staying awake, I was asleep when the pizzas arrived at the table, I was halp asleep whilst eating the profiteroles. So when I came out of there, I felt shit, and couldn't wait to get home. We had to wait half an hour for the god forsaken bus. I hate travelling on the bus, I get travel sick, especially now I am in a wheelchair as even when the breaks are on on the chair it still can move around. God that is a vile feeling. So most of the time out today I felt sick.

Anyway that was basicly my day in a nutshell. Boring I know but that is how it is. So I will love you and leave you. Check back tomorrow to see what other things end up on here.

Bye for now

The Vixen xxx

Monday, 14 June 2010

My First Post and About Me

Ok I could have come up with a better title for my first posting here, but why the hell should I? Of course you know what you can do if you don't like what I say, GTFO!

Who is The Vixen? Well I am a young woman who lives in the south east of England. Most importantly though, I am a person with feelings and thoughts. Dispite what people think, I do feel love, I do feel emotional pain, I do feel joy and I do feel anger. I feel things that most people do. I am under educated, sure, I don't mind admitting it. I am flawed I have M.E and Fibromyalgia. I also have been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and Bi-Polar III. See I don't admit I have those to get your sympathy, please keep the volins in the boxes. I admit it because I am not ashamed of who I am, although others try to make me feel bad. I talk openly about mental health especially, as I feel the media make it out to be something awful. I am a none comformist, I like what I want to like and do what I want to do. I hate this "type or person" thing, I can't stand labels. I am a vegetarian and feel strong about animal rights, so automaticly people get the idea I am some kind of hippy, they couldn't be further from the truth. I am a gay woman, so naturally people assume I have cut my hair off and wear mens clothes, it might suprize them that actually I am extremely feminine and love glamour. Butch lesbians are not my type, but I do respect them, let them be who the wannabe, I would definately be friends with a butch woman.

Why have I started this blog? Well for two reasons really. The first one is, I realized that nobody in this world knows me, the real me. Nobody knows everything I think and feel, what my true opinions and thoughts are on certain subjects. The second reason is someone, and they know who they are, told me that they found my rants real but funny, which is a good thing. I hope that more people can feel along those lines, I also hope that there are people like me who are alone and feeling a little lost who can relate to me. I would also like to think that there are people out there who are completely diffrent to me but would like to find out more about diffrent peoples lives and cultures.

Why The Vixen? I thought the name suited me, who I am. A foxy lady, with a lot of bite. Sometimes I look seductive and other times I look a mess. Just like a fox, I am to some people an unwanted pest, to others I am someone they want to help. I have a lot to give just like a fox but know one so far has wanted what I have to give. I am misunderstood just like a fox. The name just displays to me a little bit of everything of my personality, the dark side, the fun side, the sexy side but most importantly the feminine side.

So somethings you must know if you intend to read this blog regularly. I will say what I think, but if you don't agree with what I say, act mature about it and lets discuss it. If you send me abuse, you will get abuse back, I promise you that. And to any men out there who think they can convert me to hetroland, don't bother trying. I have no problem with men and will be friends with a man provided he realizes I am off limits. I am more then happy to be friends with anyone out there, so get in touch and don't be shy as I will be nice but truthful, you will get no bullshit from me but equally I won't be nasty unnecessarily.

Anyway, I think that is enough for now. I hope you come back regularly and get to know me, I am lots of fun but I can be difficult at times. But as Marilyn Monroe said "If you can't handle me at my worst. Then you certainly don't deserve me at my best"

Bye for now ღ