Tag Archives: drunk

New Year, Same Stuff

Recently, my blog has been quieter than Alfonso Ribiero, Carlton from Fresh Prince, seriously what happened to him. So one of my New Year’s resolutions was to post more stories. So, 19 days later, I am trying to do this. I would tell you about my New Year but, to be honest, the only portion of the night I remember involves pouring drinks and selfie sticks capturing my fall from grace hour by hour.

New years

Here is us doing the macarena, or auditioning for the Village People. Either or.

Lately, all I have noticed is how demeaning social media can be. It seems that the only time people log onto Facebook or Twitter or even Bebo, if you still live in 2007, is to criticise people for everything they do. I also respect the irony of me blogging critically about people criticising but c’est la vie or whatever the Spanish say.

One of the first things that will be seen when logging into social media in January 2015 is ‘gym bunnies’ having a go at the ‘newbies’ at the gym. Complaining that some ‘fat wallopers’ are using all the treadmills. Well, to be honest the only way they can become ‘thin wallopers’ is that treadmill. Everyone had to start off somewhere so why judge people that have taken the first step in becoming fit. Come back in 20 minutes and I’m sure the treadmill will be free while someone sweats profusely and has a panic attack in the corner.

Also, there has been a lot of digs at ‘New year, new me.’ New Year, New Me usually involves a plan in which this person becomes Cara Delevigne and starts the transformation with a trip to the hairdressers to get £20 worth of highlights. I get that it is annoying but sometimes the New Year is what people hold on to make themselves a better them. Why bring them down, brassy highlights and all.

I, like everyone else, had New Year resolutions, the old favourites that I repeat every year like one of them horrendous Christmas CDs, who buys these CDs!! It’s the same songs every year. Anyway, I promised I would get fit and lose weight and be more social at 12 am on the 1st of January. 12 hours later I can found with my head in a toilet bowl and wondering if I will ever feel normal again. This ritual happens every year.

I spent New Year demolishing vodka and wine, testing the capacity of my liver and failing, then like all young 20 year-old’s being put to bed at 02:30 after falling up the stairs, not being able to see straight and being astounded by the depth of my love for these people who were in an equal state, I like to keep the New Year classy.

Another one of my New Year’s resolutions is to be more involved in current affairs, top notch journalist right here, I know a little about politics but not that much. My understanding is limited to David Cameron – dick, Nick Clegg – dick, Ed Milliband – a sad Wallace without the Gromit and Nigel Farage – massive dick. One of the main reasons I want to know more about politics is so that when I’m at a party and someone brings up a deficit, cause we’re cool like that, I sound educated in between rounds of never have I ever.

I know I probably won’t stick to all of my New Year’s resolutions but it still makes a difference that you have a goal and want to better yourself, so stop judging people and get on with your own life, right!!

Another one of my New Year’s resolutions was to be nicer to people.


TITP survival guide

This is my 3rd year in a row going to TITP. So will I be more prepared as a journalist student at the age of 20 than I was as a fresh ex-high school student just turned 18?

Well I packed my bag the night before leaving so I’m going to say no. However, my bag is extremely heavier than it was two years ago which suggests my drinking habits have increased with my age. I probably won’t address the problem until the age of 25 when I’m found under a lamppost claiming aliens took the dregs of my tesco’s finest vino.

Anyway … TITP isn’t about being prepared. Sometimes not being prepared is more fun.

This is just my tips that I’ve learned over the years.

The first year I went to TITP I had no clue what to expect. I’d never been to a festival before and it was my 18th birthday.


Here I am on my 18th birthday! I’m the one wearing a sash. At this point I hadn’t learned the tip sneak drink in! It is £6 for one cocktail in an itty bitty glass. I searched but I couldn’t find the gold lacing on the plastic cup. My best tip is get a plastic flask. One with a clip! This is vital. Fill it with the strongest drink you have. The drunker you get the less the paint stripper after taste disgusts you. Clip under your top to your bra and saunter through the checks like the sassy bitch you are. I have no tips for males. I apologise. It’s a gender requires kinda tip.

Also if it rains you will get muddy! Unless the weather god is your personal servant and protects you, you’re perfect hair, make up, clothes etc are fucked. Excuse the french.

I swanned out of the refresh tent like a clean goddess. My inner iggie azealia judging all the muddy peasants. Until someone I can only describe as a deviant kicked mud at me. I was shocked! My inner iggy floated away and subo took her place. Embrace the mud. I don’t mean roll around in it, which I have seen people do, but if you get mud on your clothes channel bear grylls or get smashed. Both work.

Getting on someone’s shoulder is not as fun as it seems. Especially if they’re 6ft tall and smashed and when you ask to get down the practically choke slam you down.


This would’ve been an amazing photo if that bitch hadn’t done this. She’s looking at me as she does this. She knows she’s stolen my golden photo. Not everyone appreciated your sassy-ness. However, it is fun watching people tumble off of drunken people’s shoulders. If you look closely you can see the regret on their face at they fall from the 7ft tall giant they’re  crouched upon.

The best thing to do is make sure you’re going with amazing friends. Some of best ever memories is at TITP. For example, my friend destroying another friends tent over the mystery of the lost lucozade while screaming ‘It’s not about the lucozade it’s about the sharing!’

Or going on the waterlogs have cut singing along to snoop dog.

Or assembling half of Manchester to build your tent as you realise a 6 man tent is not as easy to assemble as a 2 man.

Or one of your friends being preyed on by and older drunk male. This may not sound funny but we made up a song about to that makes it okay.

And just get wrecked.



This may not be the best photo of me but look at my teeth! It’s like a Colgate advert for emos.