Everytime I See or Hear Someone Giving Birth On TV.....

....It makes my fallopian tubes tie themselves in a knot.

To Die By Your Side Is Such A Heavenly Way To Die...

I used to think that love would be something that would come easily.
It did come easily.
I've fallen in love several times, each time more intense than the last. Each time realising that love isn't something that just happens, just like happiness isn't something that just happens... It continues and it either grows or wilts and fades away...

My parents for instance. They were my true life fairytale.
Met at a New Years party.
My mother was there feeling a bit down, she'd recently been dumped by her fiancee, the supposed love of her life.
My father was ten years older than her.
Less than eleven months later they're getting married and my mother is already 2 months pregnant with my sister.... (I'm not going to say the figures but they're almost at their ruby anniversary now )

I thought this was true love. Fast, intense and lasting.
Until one day I asked my parents how my dad had proposed.... Expecting some grand story I was severely disappointed....
Dad: I didn't ask her to marry me...
Me: What do you mean?!
Mum: Well, we just decided to get married.
Me: You...decided?
Dad: Yes, we wanted to run a pub together and in those days you had to be married.
Me: ....

Pretty much the day when my dreams were shot down.
Anyhow. I soon realised that love isn't really as simple as everyone would like you to believe.

Like now. I want to be with someone so desperately. It just isn't that simple...

Seeing Your Estranged Ex....

....brings about the same feelings as when there are people on a train near you punching walls, swearing and shouting abuse at people...

I don't think I need to explain further?

Forgive Me For Valentine's Day....

Had a typically clichéd girl Valentine's Day. Was actually rather unintentional.

We were like Lady and the Tramp but instead of Spaghetti Meatballs we had Curly Fries.
We sipped pink Champagne (until we ran out and reverted to boxed white wine) and ate sweets while watching that new Keira Knightly movie with all the spanking scenes... V lovely.

By the time we'd watched the film the Champagne was gone and I told my girl about those unfortunate movies I'd found (refer to last blog post).

People might think that we engage in strange activities together but it's actually one of my favourite ways to spend time...
We find strange porn to watch ('Having Sex With Virgin Melon'), funny vintage porn (70's hairdo's-top and bottom), look through blogs full of mens penis's and mock/laugh/admire (has, has he got a triangle shaped penis??) and generally have a catch up over general going's on ('Vikki Blows's breasts look so much bigger in this years calendar than last years-has she had a boob job?).

So naturally we decided it would be a great idea to check out a couple of these awful titled films. (Again, refer to previous post; http://madisonlachapelle.blogspot.com/2012/02/some-absurd-movies.html)

The first movie; 'Forgive Me For Raping You' is about a priest, who I believe is eventually revealed as someone imitating a priest (we were skipping through the whole thing).
He uses his power to pretend he's 'healing' or 'treating' women and rapes them and then asks afterwards 'Will you forgive me for raping you?' Bad enough until he then decides to kill them by strangling them. Nice.
Lowest and most absurb point of the film is when he just 'happens' to drive past a house where he notices a dodgy character leave through the back door.
Entering the house he finds a girl tied up and gagged where she has just been raped (Conveniant). He makes her carry out some sexual act claiming that he can't rape her because he doesn't want to be 'dirtied' by another man's...residue.
After he de-gags her she explains that her first rapist actually made her sit in a bath afterwards to get rid of his DNA or something (Scientifically incorrect as well as an ethical monstrosity). After this admission he revels in the joy that he can now rape her without getting dirty. Hurrah for him. Then kills her.

After that disturbing waste of digital space we decided to go onto something a little more adsurb and potentially more amusing. Cue; Slow Torture Puke Chamber.
This was little more amusing. Based on a porn star with bulimia on the verge of coming back from actual hell (the place where satan resides).
There's a lot of weird puking scenes with some added weeing-in-a-tub parts (I don't really get where the piss comes into it...) (Apart from maybe, taking the...)
The whole film ends up a bit like 'A Siberian Film'...someone gives birth, the baby is killed, raped and eaten. At this stage I was skipping through the movie as quickly as I could because it was just a bit much for me to stomach after all that junk food. Blah, blah, blah, the ending was a blur....

Cat Watching To Bird Watching....

I'm wondering if being a 'crazy cat lady' isn't the worst fate to have.

I wave at a cat outside the window and my mother screeches at me;
'No! You'll scare the Robins!'
Bird watching? Really? Is that what comes when you get bored of cats?

One more thing too worry about getting old...

New Years Ass

I worked last night so was consequently bored out of my mind all night.

I amused myself by keeping at a carefully balanced high of American sweets, vodka, Champage, beer and Red Bull....

Got home around 2.30am and after having a shower decided it would be a good time to change my sheets and flip my mattress....

After almost breaking about twenty things in process of said mattress flipping, I finished my sheets and crawled into bed just before 4am. Erg.

Happy New Year!

Sex Toys and STI's

I recently had an experience of tackling the subject of Sexually Transmitted Infections with a new love interest.
(Do you notice how I start all my stories with 'recently'?)

Now. Before you take this as some kind of new-angle take of writing a blog about the more serious things in life or trying to 'teach' others new things, I'm not.

This is how the situation should have gone...

Me: I think before we do anything together sexually we should both make sure we're free from sti's.
Him: Yeah, I think that's a good idea.

This is how the situation actually went.... (Condensed and simplified)

Me: I want to suck your dick.
Him: I want to go down on you.

Half-naked times commence.

Me: I want to have sex with you.
Him: Okay, let me get a condom.
Me: I'm on the pill.
Him: Errrm....
Me: Oh... Are you worried about the other thing?
Him: Yes.
Me: I see. Well. But.... I don't understand, you just went down on me... If you're gonna get something... You can get it from that as well...
Him: What.

At this point I explain that sexual fluids are sexual fluids and have to break it to him that you can still get aids just from giving oral sex. Sigh. Making him feel stupid. Feel like a bitch.

Him: Well, since my last STI check-up I've used a condom everytime I've had sex.
Me: Yes but I've only had sex with a girl wearing a strap on since I last had a check-up. And she's a porn star. They have to be checked all the time and be safe....I'm pretty sure you can't catch an STI from a strap-on! (Sigh. I'm being a bitch again.)
Him: .....


And now it's almost Christmas. I have to try and get a sex-test around the Christmas period.

It's going to be ages before I can have sex.

I feel like I'm living in a, safe-sex at the holidays, booklet...

Father Christmas's Guide To Safe Holiday Sex!  

I think I'm onto a winner...

Another Week, Another Adventure

I don't even know where to begin with my week.
I've been insanely busy. Partying. Ha. It's a hard life I lead right?!

In seriousness though, I have been working stupid amounts.

And Christmas is coming soon right!
I haven't even had a chance to devise a little Christmas list of my own, let alone, shop for other people!
(That should be the other way round though, shouldn't it?)(Yes, I'm selfish.)


So, one of my days this week carried it's usual mix of surrealism and strange reality.

I was at a themed studio all day, that's weirdly enough ran by a member of a famous metal band. (Very odd.)The studio is beautiful. It's a set of themed rooms, a gothic style bedroom chamber, a prison cell, a big elegant-gothic style lounge area, an office, a bar and an American diner. Oh and a dungeon/torture chamber room.

I kept wishing the bar was real. And there was a fake frothy milkshake with straws that I just wanted to be a real vanilla ice-cream float. (I even tried sucking on it just in case...)(No pun intended.)


Anyway, so we were there shooting porn again, obviously, I was not in the porn, I am just the make-up artist.


Now, we'd been up since 8am, I'm not used to the early hours, by the time we'd got to the studio and done all the make-up and set-up, it was gone midday.
I needed a nap badly. And I was cold. (Air-con in a place where people are predominantly naked, someone please explain?)
So I sought comfort on the nearest comfy spot; a torture style, leather-effect bed. Complete with a wooden cage underneath. Yep. I took my nap in the torture chamber. Glamourous.

Obviously after my nap I was a happy kitten and decided to be sociable again and see what's going on.... Apply some more make-up...... Decide to play on the sex swing hanging from the ceiling......

One Extreme To The Next

My life is laughable at the moment.

Last weekend I spent Bonfire night in a porn studio. (SheBang.TV FYI)
For six hours I was with two naked girls.
One with implants, blonde extensions, tanned skin. The typical 'porn babe' and the other a beautiful, innocent-blue eyed, black hair with a tiny waist.

I was almost hanging out naked as well just because it was so insanely hot in there.

I was working (doing make-up) until gone 2am. One of the girls put an indoor sparkler (safety first) in herself (/up herself?) which was rather entertaining.

At one point I did wonder to myself what the etiquette was for sitting in a porn studio...
I mean, I got rather bored a couple of hours in and kinda wanted to read a magazine but I thought to myself, would that be rude?


Anyway. A few hours later I was awake again, travelling back from London. Already tired. Already consumed half my daily calories with a McDonalds breakfast.
I get to my usual job....

'Can I have some mint sauce with my chicken please' (Yes, I've made that more polite than the actual request)
'My kids are hungry, where's our food?'
'Do you have sour cream?' (No.)
'I don't have a yorkshire pudding.'

Are you kidding me?! 12 hours ago I was rubbing foundation into someone's pubic region and now I have to deal with you morons?!

My life, ladies and gentleman. Ever a pleasure.

Ramble and Bamble

I don't even know where to start on my escapades of late.

They involve;

-Being on the set of a glamour shoot and watching some live porn (Cue, jealousy from all the 19/20 year old guys I work with.)

-Hanging out with a pretty famous rockstar (not naming anyone) and him giving me a lift home... to my shitty little town. (Yup. Bit weird.)

-Basically having sex with a girl for the first time (Although, I wonder how you define having sex with a girl if you're a girl? I mean, unless you have a strap-on, there's not really any penetration... Help?)


On the plus side though, these small fabulous moments in my life are taking away the flailing groan of my usual tragic life.

Like Internet Dating.

Yes. Internet Dating. You heard. And yes. I'm giving the term capital letters.


To throw in some more of the usual events though, I tried to make my friend a dinosaur birthday cake. I got cocky. Cake=1 - Madison=0  

Morning Wake Up

After a very late night of partying and being flirtacious I ended up in a hotel.
Now, I'd just like to let you know, this isn't one of those horror stories of 'Oh my God, I woke up with this guy and I thought he was a different guy and what was I thinking?!'

No.

Although maybe on reflection this may be more interesting....

Nope. I wake up, open the curtains to let in some light so I can find my bra.
I notice rain marks on the window. Bitcherella, I only have shorts and flip flops with me. I pull back the net curtain to try and see whether the rain is going to make me look like an absolute twat.

Hmmm.... I can't seem to tell, there's a building in front of me and not much else...

Oh wait. What. Wait.

OH CHRIST.
I dive for the bed.

Yes. Outside the window. In the opposite building are office workers. Three floors directly in line with my window. And all the office workers are facing towards their window.

Oh, did I neglect to say one small thing? Yes, yes that's right, I am naked!
A whole office has just seen me naked!

What a way to start the day...

A Tribute To My Longest Lover

Ode to Burt.

You've been there for me for nearly 6 years now.
I remember when I first met you, shiny and new. You spent time with me and my boyfriend and introduced me to new fun things.

Boyfriends have come and gone yet you've stayed with me all along.
You kept me busy when I had no one else around and didn't get upset when I left you alone.
I thought I'd hurt you so many times too but you powered on through, making sure I wasn't ever left unhappy.

Six years! You're the longest relationship I've ever had!
Nothing has ever been able to compare to you and I'm sorry for all the times I tried to replace you with something new.

You can handle my boredom, handle my frustration, handle my excitement.

I don't tell you enough Burt, but I do love you so. I'll be so sad, the day that you go.

Long live Burt, the best vibrating rabbit a girl could have.

Well That Worked Well...

I tried in vain to have a crush on someone to distract myself from my lover....

Turned out he's only eighteen.
And 'bisexual'... Well, I think he's more gay...





Don't think I need to say anymore than that really....

Definition of Life

One of my best friends likes to point out on regular occasions (Usually when I'm facing disastrous situations ) how 'hilarious' she finds my life.


I think the word she actually means is 'tragic'.


But it's true, it is regularly that these events happen.


Recently, my mum, my sister and I had a trip planned for a spa day (Champney's all the way). We were picking up my sister on the way and my mum and I were all packed and ready to go.




Now, my parents have long installed a strong sense of security in me and I had to endure plenty of conversations about the research of the 'best type' of doors and door handles.
You may wonder if there's much to think about with regard to door handles but my god, shapes, lengths, handle direction, thickness.... I could go on (but don't want you to realise how deeply uncool I am for knowing this stuff).

So anyway, we have some extremely secure front door that I can't really believe isn't made of titanium....
We also have the handle to match.


What the hell does this all have to do with going to a spa I hear you ask.
Well, just to go a bit further, when you have your key in the door-lock from inside the house, if you were to put a key in from the outside, it won't let you unlock the door. (This still has nothing to do with spas Madison!!)

SO, my mother had unlocked the door (from the inside) and we were walking out the door, finally (because it takes so long to get ready to go somewhere that requires no make-up, jewellery or clothes other than a bikini....).
Her phone rings. I carry on walking. Then I hear a 'Shit!'

Next thing I know I'm being eyed suspiciously by people walking by my house because I have my arm through the letter box, upto my elbow or because I'm taking my arm out of the letter box and in my hand is a re-shaped wire hanger.


Yep, I'm breaking into my own house. My mother has left her keys in the door and then closed the door.
We can not get in. Her car keys are on the set of keys also. My key won't work because her key is in the lock.

So instead I'm trying to pull down the handle with a wire coat hanger that I had to ask my neighbour for and alternating with trying to hook the keys out of the door.



Welcome to my life.

Another Day, Another Man

I got myself into a situation recently that was entirely naive of me.

I'd started talking to a mutual friend and after skyping each other for a bit he kept trying to get me to go on webcam.

Hell no! Even if I had one, right now I look like I've been on the waltzers too long, hair array, no make up, hell.

Somehow, somehow next thing I know I'm getting a small parcel in my post and trying to understand why it's such a long damn process to set up a webcam.


I spend twenty minutes getting the precise angle of hair and face and still make it black and white.

We start talking. I give it ten minutes before I decide that I look like a statue because I'm too scared to move into a wrong angle and turn it off.



I'm sure plenty of people use webcams/Skype to have their conversations, far-away couples, etc....

But

Really not for me though! My gosh, could you even imagine getting naked on one of those things? Please, it's mortifying seeing how you look while trying to move around just to get undressed, let alone actually getting off in front of someone, while seeing yourself, staring back at you....

When in person, I do enjoy some good mirror action but at least you know then that it doesn't matter what the hell you look like or what face you pull because all that matters to the person you're with is that there's a naked person in front of them waiting to be shagged. (Shagged; very English word, very 90's Hugh Grant of me.)


Moral of the story; if you want to use a webcam then get someone else to buy it for you so that when it's quickly discarded at the back of a cupboard you won't feel bad about wasting money. V. Sensible.

Week In, Week Out

Oh the wonders a week can bring.While out for a rendez-vous with a girlfriend (It was our anniversary) we'd decided to stop in on a bar, before going home, as a colleage was out for their birthday.

I'd been there for less than ten minutes (But who's counting?) when I noticed a guy sat at one of the tables.

Oh yes, I recognise that person, I'm sure it's one of Sparkle guy's friends..... Oh yes, that's it, I met him a few weeks ago....But wait.... Oh, oh yes, that would be Sparkle guy, sat there, with his back to me....


However. Sparkle guy lost his sparkle a couple of weeks ago and it turned out that he has no more sparkle than any other man. It's just very unfortunate that he happened to break my hope as a result of it.
So, like the with-it girl I am, I carried on like there was no pink elephant in the room. I sipped away at my wine (Ok, I gulped, I'd had a shock) and involved myself in the group conversation about.... Well, I wasn't really listening... I just kept my peripherol vision wide open in case he turned and noticed me.


He didn't ever turn round. And instead I started to burn holes in the back of his head by staring at it. I promptly addressed the time and urged that we should leave.

So that was a slight disaster that took me straight back up to being on edge and slightly paranoid of seeing certain individuals like this out and about.



You'd think my week couldn't get any worse right? Well, you're wrong. (Obviously, as this post is continuing.)

My working days have been lightened up dramatically by the sighting of this cute wild rabbit that I affectionately named Peter. (As in, Peter Rabbit.) (As in, not very original.)

So, I've been seeing Peter for the last few weeks. Usually on my way home from work and then I started seeing him in the mornings as well! Nibbling away at the weeds/grass (Yes, I really am talking about a real rabbit.) and doing general rabbit things.

I've started saying hello to him and he's started to get more relaxed, basking in the sun when it's shining or just by carrying on munching away at some dandelions.



Now, a couple of days ago, I was on my way home, wondering if I'd get to see my favourite rabbit (alive and fluffy type) when I realed back in horror! I shouted OH MY GOD! (so loudly that I'm quite glad no one else was around...) and my heart started pounding.

Someone had come along and cut the grass! All of it! Gone! Nothing for Peter to hide behind or underneath. Nothing for him to eat. I am distraught.

I haven't seen Peter since the grass has been cut.

I'm worried for his safety.


And that, that just topped my week off for me. I hope other people have had better things to happen or to talk about than something as pathetic yet completely unfortunately true as my weeks events?

Peace

Mess Of Words. Clash.

I'm not going to lie to you all. (All, I say that like there's more than one person reading.)

Anyway, I'm not going to lie. I am terrible at keeping on task/updating/doing anything productive.
I actually have two posts, half written, in my drafts, waiting to be finished off. Signed off with a dot if you will. (Yep, just made up an expression of my own.)


It was recently my birthday anyway. I can't say my perspective and outlook on life has dramatically improved, have to say.

I did leave my sunglasses down south though.

Yes. I did fly the nest to visit pastures new.


(Well, I certainly seem to be speaking like an elderly person.)

I have to say as well, I co-hosted a radio show last week. Very exciting right?! (No, still not famous.) (Our mums are our biggest fans.)

Anyway, I came out with these two cracking sentiments;

'Tallyhoe ol' chap!'

And

'Give it some welly!'

So yeah, beginning to think I'm absolutely ready for a life of cats already.....



In other news. I finally had sex! Not a huge deal, not like it was my first time....with that person.
I needed it. Let's just say that.

Sorry to be so crude but to be honest, the relationship I've had with my vibrator of late has been very turbulent and I think it's really happy that I've finally given it a break. I genuinely feel disliked by my own toys.



Anyway, there was less of a point to this post. Many things have been happening recently that I really need to construct into some good group of words.
Like Dreamy guy. I have mentionned him before. He's dreamy. He makes me swoon. I got to see him. But I will talk about this another day!!

Love And Other Things

Well, first of all, on a love-related note....

Sorry, did I say love? What a joke.

The one person I love doesn't have enough balls to be in a relationship. He's had his chance.

And the one person who I could fall in love with... well, I'm not sure for sure but I'm pretty confident that he's not into the idea either.

And I've cut both of them off. I'm not stupid, I know the way to find out where you stand. Don't contact them, be off the visor and see what happens.... (Doesn't mean I have to like to results.)


So, my relationship is with my vibrator. And it isn't even a great relationship.

I demand it after weeks of not giving him any care or attention (Yep, decided it's a male vibrator.) and then use and abuse him until his batteries have worn down.

This mainly equates to about ten times in a row until both him and me are shuddering and worn out.


I've also agreed once more to an attempt of someone to set me up. Now, if anyone has read my previous posts, you'll know that I have completely written off the idea of being set up, many a time.

Why now? I'm bad at saying no. Really. Bad.

I've also protested that this double-date affair is going to be a non-date. No mention of any kind of set-up or date or being single or relationship, etc, etc, etc.



Yep. I think I've fallen for it once again haven't I? Totally being conned aren't I? Great.

She Wore Pink Sunglasses

I've decided my tool to surviving the roads when cycling (Yep, still haven't evolved past the piece of scrap metal.) is my sunglasses.

They're wonderful. Pink hearts with darkened lenses. I purchased them from Portabello Road market a few years ago (therefore, they're vintage, right??) for a modest amount of money.


So, what's so special about these glasses I hear you ask. Do they have rearview mirrors attached? Have a pop up sign attached, warning people of my bad skill of staying in a straight line? Blow smoke signals? Blind drivers into stopping for me?

Nope. They're just pink heart, sunglasses. My 7 month old niece pulls them off rather well actually.

(If she was bigger then I'd definitely go as far as to say they'd look better on her than me.)


So these glasses are not magic. But. They lull people into the illusion that I'm younger than I am. They see bright, shaped glasses on a pink bike (didn't I mention that before?) and immediately '7 year old' springs to their mind. This means people stop for me, let me pass and generally are a lot more patient with my speed and slow progress.
I don't wear them purely for this reason though. I actually like to kid myself that they make me look cute. In an ever-so-ironic way.

It makes me wonder though, when do you stop being able to get away with these things? Are you ok to take on child-like qualities (and dress sense) until you're 25? 30? 40??

I think this may take longer to explore....

Sentimental Mumbo-Jumbo (There Might Be A Point In There Somewhere)

Although it would be more than fitting if I were to drive a beautifully sleek convertible car, I'm afraid to say that actually, my way of getting to work... is cycling.

Now, I'd love to make out that this is down to being a super, mega, ethical, eco-babe.

It's not.


So this week, so far, I've cycled 74 miles. This sounds a lot but actually it's clearly not enough to shift my few extra pounds I have floating around my hips.

Anyway, this wasn't a post to complain about my personal body image. It was actually to rejoice on my motivational will-power to cycle that far everyday.

I'm not going to lie, it's not the most dignified of activities...slogging up a hill... holding on for dear life when going down a hill....

But it is feel-good. And the wind in my face (when it's not blowing bits of tree or flies into my mouth) feels amazing, freeing, just like I'm flying.

It's just something that really is....wonderful.