And so it ends.

My thirty days are up, and the month has ended much as it began. With piercings, red hair and packages.

This morning the postman woke me up, but I was so comfortable that I left my inevitable packages to chance and refused to move, open my eyes or even acknowledge anything sensory until 2pm.

My neighbours, The Brick People took my package in for me like good elderly insane people. I went over to their door expecting one package reasonably sized package.

No.

Now, you know how I love me some package? How I go insane if they're BIG BOXES and if there's more than one?

Three big packages! HUZZAH!

Three drinking games, one of which is so complicated I'd need to be sober to play it, and very, very drunk to do any of the forfeits.

I got a good deal on hair dye.. and dyed my hair back to it's usual bright red. I'll post a picture tomorrow.

And finally I'm on the curb of being bollocked for having more than one pair of earrings at work. I'm sorry, boss, but I've got a really big thing about being restricted. It's a perfect equilibrium. My BRIGHT FUCKING HAIR covers eleven of my piercings*, my nose piercing gets me more compliments than glares, I do my job well and they don't exactly slow me down. LEAVE ME ALONE.

Gaahhhhh...

More on that when I get yelled at.

*Eleven ear piercings (Three cartilage, one conch, seven lobe), left nostril, upper navel, lower navel.

*Ping* AHH!

Alors... I got my new uniform today. It's DIRE.

Imagine the thinnest black material you can, then stretch it across my butt and hoik them up to Simon Cowell-esque heights and you have the trousers pictured clearly.

Imagine the reddest of red shirts making my hair look grey whilst barely restraining my poor, abused boobs. And the shirt doesn't really go past the waist.

It's tight in all the wrong places. The trousers balloon out in a vile way. The buttons on the shirt are ready to pop open (settle down, settle down) and take someone's eye out and then scar them for life.

The only redeeming factor is that I have my very own Argos fleece of my very own that is mine awl mine and is very, very snuggly.

And I won't lie. This top makes my boobs look voluptious and crapulous (real word, totally applies here) and big and stuff.

And I have the red hair to go with the company logo.

And I wear turquoise eyeshadow to go with the store colours.

All I need now is A, R, G, O and S earrings for my left ear and I'm done.

28th.

Pay day.

Two days left of NaBloPoMo.

The day of the month where I spent too much on too little.

One month until Cleo's birthday.

Shopping.

Piercings.

Ouchy-ness.

No sleep.

The 28th is pretty much the same every month.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..

Purely because I'm doing my Christmas shopping a few months early this year.

And so far I've bought stuff for me and stuff for Cleo and that's about it.

Sorry guys, there won't be a Christmas this year.

Believe it or not, that is all.

Just sleeping.

It's my first day off in five/six days so today I had one of my trademark duvet days which more or less involves me sleeping, eating, sleeping some more and then listening to music until dawn and being totally dead the next day.

It's never a good mirror day though. My hair's a mess, I have eyeliner I forgot to wash off clouding my eyes, my eyes are bleary from sleeping, I slur my words, I move slowly, I don't get dressed and I'm a total asshole to all who approach me.

They're good days.

It also helps with the overall mood of the day that I'm a few days south of pay day. It's the same every month, around the 25th I start getting restless and zoom around Amazon UK adding and subtracting from my wishlist, putting all sorts of things in my basket (TWSS) with pretty much no restraint.

I made a cool investment this month though.

.Shot glass chess set.

I'm fucking awesome at chess. And drinking. And spending.

This is obviously meant to be.

I can't think of a title because I'm listening to Queen again.

So you think you can love me and leave me to dii-iii-iie..?!

Today I worked my heel off.

Yeah. The sole of my right heel is gone now.

Le ouch.

(Seriously though. Send icecream and hugs)

Today I got to be a really annoying person because my boss sent me and a woman from work out into the wide world to jump in front of shoppers and push flyers at them.

Ultimately, we got rid of 200 in forty minutes in the freezing cold and wind and got driven off by the management at Asda (grr).

It was crippling. You put your heart on the line, offer them a leaflet and then when they brutally turn you down, you are convinced you are totally unloved and that you'll never put your heart on the line like that again in this lifetime.

There is nothing more pitiful than a girl in their work uniform wearing a fleece maybe three sizes too big for her, windswept, clutching a stack of flyers and limping (raw feet from 22 hours of working around the stockroom and assembling well over 2000 orders SINGLE-HANDED/FOOTEDLY over the course of four days).

Don't talk to me about work ethic.

I are clever.

I have been on my feet for 10 hours, but I will not rest!

Behold:

.Click.

Yes. That is Nicole's spanking new Videojug site for body piercing.

Let's see how this one turns out.

No rest for the wicked.

Christmas shopping:

Lunchbreak in the staffroom: Argos catalogue, paper, pen, tea and coffee.

In the news

By the way...

Sliced bread's got nothin' on this mofo.

My dad has just come home from scouting for a video location and with him came two amazing things...

I got one of them. And the magical thing is this:

Yes. That is a Smirnoff bottle cooler-jacket with built-in speakers.

Yes. They work like a dream.

Yes. They keep my vodka cool.

No. You don't put it in the fridge.

But yes. Smirnoff-vodka-cooler-jacket-speakers.

Smirnoff, I salute you.

We can dance, we can dance the night away.

Yesterday was a loooong day.

It all started on Friday night, which was awesome, awesome, and really really awesome, and I got no sleep, and then I went to work on Saturday feeling very happy and tired and hyper and stuffs. THEN I got home and sat down for maybe a minute before taking off to see Panic Room at The Duchess.

Le awesome. Free drinks (for me, mwahaha), awesome people, awesome band/support bands, all spells for a good night. My dad was given the top-secret-hush-hush promo copy of Mostly Autumn's new album and we went home to listen to it (which reminds me, I have something awesome to show you tomorrow) 'through vodka', which is what I'll show you tomorrow.. I suck at surprises.

Also, it's probably still Jassie's birthday! Puh-leeeeez head over and hump her leg and tell her she's the best asshole ever, because she totally is. =)

Overly complicated.

Working the lights.

To do.

Read Fragile Things

Redecorate bathroom
    - Find naked man shower curtain
    - Funky toilet seat

Finish Neverwhere DVD series

Successfully get at least one of my friends a job at work this Christmas.

Start driving lessons (Sooooon! ^^)

Stop my car from dying on its arse. Again.

Start epic piercing training.

Stop binge eating. Stat.

Don't lie. This is hysterical.

I am sorry for the people who got hurt. Karma may punch me in the face. It's still funny.

This is a public announcement

..About my mum's boobs.

My lovely lovely mother whoisreadingovermyshoulderrightnowsendhelp is very lovely.

I've been dying of a grizzly infection which has left me bed-ridden (or hobbling around at work, grimacing) and in constant discomfort so my lovely lovely mother made me a nice hot water bottle because my feet were cold, and when she was sealing it, she squeezed it, caused a geiser, and scalded her boobs.

Le ouch.

Scalded as in, red, sore, blisters and everything. The whole shebang of boob-burns.

All hail my mother, who not only braved evil mastitis when I was a baby, but has now had her boobs poached so I could have warm feet.

Remember that time when Homer took a baptism to the face for Bart? This is nothing like that.

Major (ish) controversy going on in the house tonight.

My niece Kel went away on holiday with her Nananana and now she's been converted to Catholic Christianity. And she's being told to do this communion thing and drink Jesus's blood and stuff.

WHY, GODS, WHY?

I wouldn't mind, I really wouldn't, but Kel is just a child. She's only just seven years old now, and.. ugh. People should be allowed to choose their own paths, and I know they've all been talking about it over her beautiful blondy head.

I have nothing on religion. I just worry that Kel'll get all influenced and opinionated like I've seen with sooo many other children. I've met friends of Cleo's who were raised to believe that 'Playing pretend is like lying', 'silence is golden' (fair play.. but not for a child!) and it's just sad.

I'm not blasting religion. Absolutely not. Everyone can do as they please and (hopefully) be happy that way. But imposing a massive religious... thing.. on a seven-year-old is a low blow.

On a lighter note.. I have a companion piece to go with this rant:

"You don't have to be a six-footer
You don't have to have a great brain
You don't have to have any clothes on
You're a Catholic the moment Dad caaaaame..!"

Monty Python - Every Sperm Is Sacred.

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGMUCHLOVE.

So I had a really shitty day yesterday. And the day before. And today I kinda manned up and did well at work (shock horror) rather than getting dragged by my toes into the manager's office to be yelled at twice in one shift.. again.

So I feel a little better.

Healthy eating has gone out of the window, I'm binge-eating like a rat in a fairground (I love that film) and I've managed to stop biting my nails. HUZZAH!

My packages arrived and thankfully I wasn't at home to hump the postman's leg this time. Lucky for him, because there was a HUGE box involved.

And finally, I'm reading a book called Fuck It: The Ultimate Spiritual Way so I should have some pearls (haha) of wisdom soon.

And and and!! Do we think that my hair does a passable impression of being on fire?

Below the blue.

I've been having too many bad days.

Work is bad. Home is bad. Time goes slowly and I sleep and sleep.

What am I supposed to write about?

Well, this is awkward.

One-day hiatus from NaBloPoMo me thinks.

Nicole's Definitive List Of The Sneaky ("This Is How I Blog II")

Another thing that spawned from an early morning at work.

Nicole's Definitive List Of The Sneaky

A.k.a. Things you can buy from the shop that probably make you a criminal of some sort in Nicole's warped mind:

• Fire-proof boxes
• Cross-cut paper shredders
• Invisible ink pens
• Bubble wrap
• Oral B electric toothbrush
• Butane gas
• Pitchfork
• Swimming pool cover
• Rubber gloves
• Diving equipment
• Petrol-fuelled chainsaw

I have seven hours at work tomorrow morning. I'm going into the lion's den..

This is how I blog.

Today I was at work verrrry early (9am. How can I be trusted to operate heavy machinery at 9am?) and eventually I ended up seeing things in a skewed sort of way that I just had to write down, so, lo and behold, I have five crumbled pieces of paper infront of me that spent at least four hours in my bra today and are covered in scribbles.

First it started with The Cosiest/Fastest Bed In The World, which was essentially a shopping trolley filled with pillows and beanbags and other such awesome stuff you can find in the stockrooms of Argos. My bra proved to be much less safe than I thought because that piece of paper escaped so there is a (somewhat crumpled) top-notch drawing of The Cosiest/Fastest Bed In The World somewhere on the floor at work.

Then I started writing stupid lists. I'll spare you for today.

Then I got someone to apply for a store card and- Well. Do you know that episode of The Simpsons where Mandula goes to get a divorce from Apu and the divorce lawyer starts dancing on the table after he hears they have nine kids? Yes. Just like that.

And everything was dandy for a while, then my boss came along and said I was being slow and not doing things right and making me do stuff when I was already very very busy with something else so he could go read his newspaper and then this doodle came about:

And then my favourite manager came to join us all and I all but humped his leg.

Work is.. Interesting.

I am sailing, I am sailiiiing..

Please, please, I beg of you, please share with me in the hilarity of this video:



(Courtesy of LiveLeak via The Bloggess)

Oh My God I Hate That Song.

Here in L'Angleterre our children (I have four) are subjected to singing assemblies at school.

NB: This is where we are all forced to stand up, stare at terribly cheesy lyrics and sing along to terribly cheesy music whilst hating ourselves and watching our lives glide away as fast as they can.

Example:

Conkers, lots of lovely conkers
I'm trying hard to find the biggest and the best

A particularly quirky tune about conkers. I hate conkers now.

Then there was 'cum bi arrrrr' that eventually turned into '2 pi r' in year 10 maths because we all want to know the circumference of a circle. It's definitely preferable.

Then there was a particularly haunting song about school rules.. Which was hysterical just because it was terrifying.

Don't tell tales and don't tell lies
Don't be cheeky or unkind
...We're learning...We're learning...

Scary as hell, even without the tune.

I'm only saying this because my household is finally free of these horrors. Cleo, God rest her soul, has started my terrifying school that made me all depressed and shit and let me tell you, singing in assembly? Punishable by death.

Good luck Cleo. May the odds be ever in your favour.

Dead man walking.

I feel like I should explain why I - me, who doesn't actively go to school and works a couple of days a week - am sucking so badly at posting everyday, even though I'm online anyway.

I'm DYING.

Everytime I take my crazy pills (every morning) I have a few hours of normal just-woken-up tiredness before they make me all exhausted and I have to sleep and sleep and sleep to feel normal again which just makes my day run later and later until it's past midnight and uhh shit, I've missed the deadline again.

On Saturday I stayed in bed and started/finished Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins. I've been waiting for that book for the best of a year so it was awesome before I even read it. I cried like a baby towards the end.

I flying-hugged a postman because he brought me five packages in three days.

I woke up with one of my (..eight..) earrings embedded in my ear. Lovely.

I'm totally addicted to Amazon.co.uk. I have the world's longest wishlist. I'm slowly buying my way through it.

And finally I'm about to indulge in Chinese-style sticky chicken. Wish me luck.

My little pony.

I'm really sorry I'm sucking so bad at NaBloPoMo. I promise I'll sit down tomorrow and tap out a decent post.

In the meantime.. Pony!

Pop art attack.

Alors.. I'm in a rush.

Pop-art Nicole. (Done on MS Paint - worship me, bitches)

That's better.

You're all insane.

Dear stupid, stupid people.

Why in Ghandhi's name did I see you hovering a million miles above York this morning?

Are you buttfucked? It was freezing cold on the ground and yet you go up in a hot-air balloon at SEVEN IN THE MORNING with a very sporradic heating system and a view of fog on an already bleak-looking York.

You fools!

Don't let me catch you at it again.

Regards,

Nicole K Smith CE.

Art Bart Cart Dart Eart Fart. *parrrrp*

I'm giving NaBloPoMo another stab (*stab* *stab* *stab* WAR CRY) this month and it'll be my fourth fifth (fucking hell) NaBloPoMo, so as my über-Führer boss-man would say, "Let's all get behind this please".

Kidding. You have my full permission to ignore my ramblings for the full month.

The theme be ART. I like ART. Particularly body art but I'm pretty sure you've heard all about that by now.

I've been getting many many packages lately. Yesterday I got two, today I got two. Tomorrow I'll probably get two more. Heil Amazon. (Note to self: Stop it with the Nazi references)

I'm probably world famous for my Amazon wishlist. I spent all month Windows (C) shopping (oh har har..) and as soon as I get paid, usually before lunchtime on the very same day, I spent at least £160 (about $200) on things I've hoarded on Amazon, and then get über restless whilst I wait for them to arrive. It was even worse this time because they very conveniently placed a bank holiday RIGHT where my delivery would've been. The slags.

So that's all from me for now. I'm feeling way too controversial today.