Day 21. Teetering on the Precipice of Stupidity

I once inadvertently drove a car the wrong way round a roundabout. (Not something I recommend). It was without doubt the most stupid thing I have ever, ever done.

Until now. 

Day 21 of my plan to take over the world, and I have made an epic decision. I was aiming for brave – but am pretty sure it’s just really stupid. Drum roll please… 

I AM LEAVING WORDPRESS 

Before you pelt me with fruit, please allow me explain:

I started this humble blog roughly 15 weeks ago, with very little expectation that anyone other than my mother would read it. That didn’t worry me though – I just wanted to write.

Then most unexpectedly (for reasons unknown) after 6 and a half weeks, a post of mine was Freshly Pressed. My mind swiftly exploded and I gave a heartfelt acceptance speech to my fridge-freezer. It also made me realise that maybe, just maybe – my blog was not that bad, actually.

With total hits to date surpassing 39,000, my mind exploded once again today. Most inconvenient, as it made a terrible mess in my living room. Note to self: Must lay down plastic sheeting.

Just to clarify – I am under no illusion whatsoever that I have ‘made it’ in the blogging world. Far from it. But the last few months have given me a tiny glimmer of hope that one day – I just might.

So further to my ludicrous plans for world domination, my brother has very kindly offered to build me a website (he’s good like that). There is one major problem however – WordPress, being god ‘dam geniuses, make it exceptionally difficult to leave. Basically I have two options:

Plan A. Buy my own URL, stay on WordPress, upgrade to a prettier (though still generic) template. Keep my hits, my loyal followers and my sanity.

Plan B. Buy my own URL, leave WordPress, gain a unique bespoke website but lose my hits, my followers and all that I’ve worked towards for the last 4 months. Wave goodbye to my sanity. 

Naturally, I have opted for Plan B. Assuming I don’t manage to break it within 20 minutes, my new website will be up and running next week. I’m hoping that by having a site of my very own, I shall finally be taken seriously as a Creative Fruit Loop.

It is quite possible that I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. But I can’t let a silly thing like fear of failure hold me back. I’m actually rather adept at being a screw up, so at least I have experience on my side.

Should you wish to follow me on my new path to resounding failure success, then please join me on Facebook by clicking the bluebird and selecting ‘Like’. 

For anyone in need of an incentive: I’m going to post a particularly delightful photo of me modelling a face pack on my wall once I reach 100 Facebook ‘likes’.

If I get to 200 then you’ll discover what I look like in an afro, fishnet tights, legwarmers and hot-pants.

Spoiler alert: It’s not pretty.

Thanks to everyone for your support – I couldn’t have done it without you. The loyalty, love, laughter, awards, and praise you have bestowed on me have simply blown my mind.

Good thing I finally laid down those plastic sheets.

Creative Fruit Loop Seeks Exciting New Job Opportunity

CURRICULUM VITAE

JESSSEEKER, BA (Hons)

OBJECTIVE

Become a wildly successful full-time writer, working from home in the comfort of my favourite SpongeBob SquarePants pyjamas. Convince Stephen Fry to write the foreword to my first book.Take over the world. Retire on a bed of gold-plated chocolate money.

PERSONAL ATTRIBUTES AND TALENTS

  • Funky Chicken specialist.
  • Cheese on toast connoisseur.
  • Grand Master of tongue-rolling.
  • Highly proficient blagger.
  • Nifty right hook.
  • Can recite all the words to The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air (abridged version, circa 1991).
  • Remarkable stamina – particularly when talking, shopping and eating chocolate.
  • Capable of solving a Rubik’s Cube within 3 hours, when armed with a screwdriver.
  • Able to hold own breath for an hour and a half, so long as no-one pinches my nose.

EXPERIENCE

Banker (not at all responsible for the global financial crisis) Feb 2006 – Feb 2012

Phone Monkey July 2005 – Feb 2006

Hostess with the Mostess Sep 2001 – June 2005

Shelf Stacker Specialist May 1999 – Sep 2001

EDUCATION 

Bachelor of Arts (honours) English. After over 3 years of study, having amassed approximately £18,000 of debt – I finally gained two letters after my name. Go me.

Advanced Level – English, Art and Media Studies. I shall never forget what I learnt at college: “When in an exam situation – if you can’t remember the year something happened, just put 1962. Lots of things happened in 1962”.

EXTENSIVE PORTFOLIO OF BRILLIANCE

HOBBIES AND INTERESTS

  • Discussing Syria’s uprising with the washing machine.
  • Attempting to catch dry roasted peanuts in my mouth (without choking).
  • Figuring out how to rid the world of Justin Bieber.
  • Playing along to The Voice at home in my office chair.
  • Preparing acceptance speeches for my inevitable, highly coveted Blue Peter badge and Nobel Prize.
  • Re-enacting The Emperor’s New Groove with my pet llama and next door’s cat.

12 Things You Really Don’t Want to Hear at a Dinner Party

1. “I could have sworn I had 10 fingers this morning. ‘Sausage Surprise’ anyone?” 

Oh drat. I’m all full-up from the Bloody Mary soup.

2. “You need to bite off the wichetty grub’s head first. Then you just suck out its insides”.

When you say “need” – is participation mandatory? 

3. “I might have mistaken washing powder for sugar. You may wish to give the trifle a miss”.

I think I’ll brave it. I’ve been looking for brilliant cleaning and long-lasting freshness for some time.

4. “Of course it’s vegetarian. Chicken is vegetarian, right?”

Don’t be an idiot. Fish however is fine.

5. “I don’t want to alarm anyone, but I appear to have misplaced my pet caterpillar Dilbert. Who’s for side-salad?”

That’s terrible. What kind of name is Dilbert? 

6. “You’ll be fine, so long as you eat around the highly poisonous parts of your long-spine porcupinefish”. I’m experiencing shooting pains down both sides and have just gone blind in one eye. Is that a bad sign?

7. “Is this how they cook food where you’re from?”

I spat in your starter.

8. “I’m a fruitarian. I only eat what naturally falls from the tree. Steak and marshmallows grow on trees, right? ”

Do me a favour – pass me your steak and let me beat you with it.

9. “I hope you don’t mind, but I couldn’t find a babysitter – so I brought along Candice, Chardonnay, Tia-Maria, Rocky and Tyson”.

Curious names. Are you familiar with the term ‘child abuse’?

10. “Is this triple chocolate caramel fudge cheesecake non-dairy and non-fat?”

Oh absolutely. Haven’t you heard? All food eaten on a Thursday is fat and dairy-free.

11. “Party games? I know LOTS of party games! Let’s start by throwing our keys into a bowl…”

Let’s start by showing you the door.

12. “Just updating Facebook. Does nauseating have one ‘S’ or two?”

Allow me to demonstrate by a show of fingers.

The 10 Commandments of Facebook

1. Thou Shalt Not Document Thy Every Move.

“Just got out of bed. Dreamt about being a pufferfish”. [0 Comments].

“Breakfast”. *Includes photo*. [0 Comments].

“On bus”. [0 Comments].

“At work. Photocopier broken”. [0 Comments].

“Lunch”. *Includes photo*. [0 Comments].

“Work update: Photocopier fixed”. [0 Comments].

“On bus again. Old man sitting next to me smells of socks”. *Includes photo*. [0 Comments].

“Walking from bus to my house”. [0 Comments].

“I wonder what I should have for tea”. [1 Comment: “Cyanide” (32 Likes)].

“Chicken nuggets, chips and peas. Yum yum”. *Includes photo*. [0 Comments].

“Jam roly-poly for dessert”. *Includes photo*. [0 Comments].

“Off to bed. Night night homies”. [0 Comments].

2. Thou Shalt Not Use Stupid Apps and then Invite Others to Use Said Apps.

I will throw an actual sheep at the next person who invites me to join FarmVille

Don’t think I’m joking.

3. Thou Shalt Not ‘Friend’ Thy Mother or Thy Boss.

Pictures of you dressed as Hitler will not impress them.

Status updates like “Dude, last night was so funked* up. Did anyone return the llama?” are also unlikely to put you in line for promotion. 

Also, if you really don’t want your mother to see the dodgy tattoo on your left buttock, then it is probably wise not to moon your best friend when he’s armed with a camera.

4. Thou Shalt Not Create a Group, Then Send Thirty-Two Thousand Frickin’ Messages.

“Hi guys,

I thought I’d message you again, just to say – there’s still no update. Once I have an update, I’ll let you know, but if I don’t hear anything then I’ll get back to you within 30 minutes”.

5. Thou Shalt Not ‘Friend’ People Thou Dost Not Know.

Nobody has 36,792 friends. Not even the cast of Friends.

6. Thou Shalt Not Air Thy Dirty Laundry in Public.

“You think you know someone, give them everything, then they funk* you over. Trust no one”.

There’s a time and a place for this sort of thing. You have 2 choices:

  1. In a quiet bar, with close friends.
  2. On national television with Jeremy Kyle.

*Censored for the women and children.

7. Thou Shalt Not Tag Friends in Incriminating Photos. Unless Thou Wanteth No Friends.

Your real concern however should be the ammunition your friends have against you.

Hot-pink leotards don’t look good on anyone – particularly 12 year old boys. Dancing to Madonna. With 7 girls. On stage. At Brownies.

8. Thou Shalt Not Divulge Too Much Information.

I am delighted that your baby made it here safely. Name, birth weight and “mother and baby doing well” will suffice. Details of the labour, how many centimetres dilated and reports that “it got a bit messy” are superfluous to requirements. I’m quite happy to maintain my belief that you found him or her in a cabbage patch. Thank you.

9. Thou Shalt Not Rant Chronically.

“I can’t believe the price of stamps have gone up by 10%! 10%!”

“God it’s hot. I hate this”.

“Freezing cold. Come back sun”.

In the words of Chandler BingMy wallet’s too small for my fifties and my diamond shoes are too tight”.

10. Thou Shalt Not Contact Anyone Whilst Intoxicated. 

Never EVER declare your undying love or burning hatred to someone whilst inebriated.

Your spelling and grammar will be atrocious.

Salt Lowers Blood Sugar and Other Utterly Preposterous Things to Say

I have a confession. I secretly love it when other people say really dumb things. Does that make me a bad person?  Quite possibly, but I can live with that.

Here are a few of my favourites. All genuine:

“I don’t believe in God. I’m an amethyst”.

“You’re going on holiday? Anywhere nice?” No, self catering in Afghanistan. In a cave. Alone. Or I might circumnavigate the Falkland Islands in a submarine.

“It’s raining. That horrible rain that gets you really wet”.  As opposed to…?

“What’s the number for 999?” We’re in an emergency situation. I don’t have time for your stupidity.

“I really fancy the black guy from JLS”. You’re going to have to narrow it down a bit more.

“You are driving erotically. Pull over!” I shall take that as a compliment.

[To a diabetic friend whose blood glucose was a little high] “Do you want me to get you some Ready Salted crisps? Salt lowers blood sugar”. They’re not acid and alkaline – salt doesn’t cancel out sugar. Who taught you Chemistry?

“Can you see out of your glass eye?” Who said that?

“The exception proves the rule”. Does it? Does it?

“How many sides does a triangle have?” I no longer wish to be associated with you.

“I could care less”. You could? Excellent.

[Having purchased one item at the supermarket, the checkout assistant asks] “Would you like help with your packing?” No, I think I can just about manage a loaf of bread singlehandedly, thank you.

“I recognise your voice from your email”.

“Tell me everything. Be pacific”. I’m not great at this role-play thing, so you’re going to have to help me. How exactly do I become an ocean? 

“My eyesight has been playing up, and I keep getting headaches, so I’m having a rectal scan tomorrow”. You need to change your doctor.

[Upon hearing Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ for the first time] “Has someone covered Hearsay?” 

“Well, me, myself, personally…” How many of you are there?

“Absolutely. 110%”. So Maths – not your strong point? 

[In the boardroom] “We don’t have to boil the ocean”. Always reassuring to know. Now back to work…

“I may not know a lot about politics, but I do know that James Cameron is not the right Prime Minister to lead us out of recession”. Very true. Despite a strong Directing career, his political credentials are somewhat lacking. Shall we see how David Cameron fares instead?

“Silence when you’re talking to me”.

Sometimes there are no words.

The Top 8 Pitfalls of Being a Superhero

Being unemployed does crazy things to a person. The longer I’m a jobless hobo, the more I find myself considering professions that would otherwise have gone overlooked. Such as, though not exclusive to:

  • Pole Dancer.
  • Forklift Truck Driver.
  • Brain Surgeon.
  • Life Model.
  • Superhero.

Fear not – I would never be a Life Model. Being a Superhero however does appeal. Just imagine – I could use my superpowers to rid the world of evil, hatred and Justin Bieber.

Being a caped crusader is not without its drawbacks though. Who knew?

THE TOP 8 PITFALLS OF BEING A SUPERHERO

The Moral Code. Goddam’ it. ’Willingness to risk one’s own safety for others, without expectation of reward’. No reward you say? None at all? Not even Jaffa Cakes?

Your Highly Questionable Outfit. Nobody looks good in Spandex. Not even David Beckham.

Chafing. Trust me – no amount of Vaseline can protect you.

Everyone Knows Your Achilles Heel. Most mere mortals can hide their flaws with some camouflage make-up and good lighting. Your faults make the front page.

You’re On-Call 24/7. Even during The Apprentice.

You Can Never Find a Phone Booth When You Need One. Like when you only have a nanosecond to get changed into your leotard. (I blame mobile phones).

Your Archenemy. One mega-villain trying to take over the world. Again. It’s exhausting.

There’s No Room in Your Utility Belt for Hair Straighteners. How can they expect you to be photo-ready at a moment’s notice if you can’t address the state of your tresses?

Upon reflection, I have decided that superheroism is not for me. I think I’ll give brain surgery a go instead.

Any volunteers?

Dearest Spammer, What Can I Say?

Dearest Spammer,

I would like to express my sincere gratitude for the mass-produced unsolicited marketing material you so thoughtfully sent to me and half a million others today.

And yesterday.

And every day for the last six and half years.

So good of you to think of me for your latest herbal supplement weight-loss campaign. You shouldn’t have. I feel that I owe you something in return; so please consider this letter my gift to you. No need to thank me…

There were several reasons I needed to decline your generous offer to test drive a Honda:

  1. I heard about the recent product recall over dodgy airbags and did not wish to risk breaking my face.
  2. As a jobless hobo I am currently unable to afford a paper aeroplane, let alone a shiny new car.
  3. They don’t make them in purple.
  4. I cannot drive.

How considerate of you to address the emotive topic of death whilst trying to sell me life insurance via email. Most people just can’t find the right words, but you nailed it.

Thank you so much for drawing my attention on 5th April to the imminent festive season. Season’s Greetings to you too!

I have decided to spend every penny of my one thousand pounds on Christmas decorations to adorn the roof of my home. ‘Tis the season to be jolly, after all.

Moving on – thank you so much for the MBNA reminder. I would have happily provided all of my personal banking information, including sort code, account number and Pin, if it wasn’t for the fact I don’t have an MBNA account.

So I input my husband’s details instead.

Despite having no need whatsoever for Viagra tablets, your ‘professional packaging’ intrigues me. I’ll take seven batches.

While we’re on the topic, I also have no requirement for a cure to male pattern baldness, nor do I need to enhance my ‘member’.

Feel free to send me free chocolate though, to accompany the herbal weight-loss supplements.

Yours,

Jessseeker

If Only I Had a Brain

So, it turns out that staring at a blank computer screen for one hundred and thirty-seven consecutive hours is not the best way to get ideas. Why did nobody tell me? 

I figured this out for myself eventually. Only five and a half days wasted.

Jusmeh recently asked me “Where do you find the inspiration for your blogs?” H’mm, let me see…

LIFE IS THE ANSWER

An unfortunate home hair dying incident when I was seventeen resulted in me adorning hats for the entire summer of 1999. This seemed a fitting tale to include in my post I Really Should Have Thought This Through, which, much to my delight embarrassment was Freshly Pressed in February.

Just to reiterate: I still don’t know whether blondes have more fun, but I can verify that oranges certainly do not. 

A few months ago, I noticed a sweet little girl on the bus, with big brown eyes, short curly auburn hair and a cheeky grin. She turned to her mother and said “When I grow up mummy, I want to be a tomato”. Quite clearly a god ‘dam genius – she inspired my post Think Different.

I have been unable to eat a tomato ever since. 

My brother Oli recently invited me for Sunday lunch. A prospect that would have filled me with joy, if it wasn’t for the fact his latest pancake attempt looked like scrambled eggs and he referred to his colander as coriander. I survived though and had lots of new material for my post “I Just Found a Chicken Bone in My Cheesecake. Is That Bad?

Thank you brother. Your thrice microwaved chicken was delicious. 

A couple of weeks ago, I decided it would be a brilliant idea to walk three miles home in four inch heels. Turns out – it wasn’t.

I ended up in agony, with several blisters and one less toe. My post This Season I Shall Mostly Be Wearing Slippers was born. 

If only I had a brain.

Face to Faux with The Hoff

David Hasselhoff needs to explain himself. I still don’t have a talking car named Kitt and who on earth gave him permission to sing? Let’s see what he had to say for himself in this week’s instalment of Face to Faux:

Jessseeker: May I call you David? Or do you prefer ‘The Hoff’?

Hoff: ‘The Hoff Father’ is fine.

Jessseeker: Knight Rider rocked. Did you find your role as Michael Knight demanding?

Hoff: It was tough. You have no idea how tough. I had to talk to a car – and a watch.

Jessseeker: You also achieved huge success and notoriety with Baywatch.

It was well received internationally and has been shown in over 140 countries around the world. According to the Guinness Book of World Records it is the most watched TV show in the world. What do you think was the key to its phenomenal success?

Hoff: I believe the camera photographs your aura, and it also photographs your heart. If you look at Baywatch, everyone on that show had a great heart.

Jessseeker: Yes, that’s certainly why my brothers watched it. For Pamela Anderson’s heart.

Moving on – did you nick the baseline from the YMCA for your hit Crazy for You?

Hoff: I really have no idea what you’re talking about. Stop talking. Don’t hassle the Hoff.

Jessseeker: So, whilst we’re on the topic of bad music – what is the most embarrassing album you have ever owned?

Hoff: Probably my first album, ‘Night Rocker’. It was awful! It sold six copies, I bought five. It was number one in Austria though. Wherever that is.

Jessseeker: With a reported fortune of over $100,000,000, have you ever considered investing in singing lessons?

Hoff: Why bother? The Hoff’s got talent. I’m huge in Germany.

Jessseeker: In May 2007, a home video clip surfaced of you not looking your best. It showed your drunken attempt to eat a cheeseburger on the floor of a Las Vegas hotel room. Where were your table manners?

Hoff: I’d left them at home, along with my sanity. It was a low point. So were the many photo shoots in which I wore nothing but a black thong and a smile. I can only apologise.

Jessseeker: I couldn’t help but notice – the personalised photo prints of you on your website have been marked down in price. Are you disappointed by the lack of demand for images of you in a camp fur-lined robe?

Hoff: I felt there was a gap in the market. Turns out, there wasn’t.

Jessseeker: Final question then Hoff Father. Would you agree that your cameo appearance in The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie was the pinnacle of your career?

Hoff: It’s a close call, but I’d say being serenaded by David Johnson on America’s Got Talent just beat it. He offered to spoon me the whole night through – even if I had the flu.

Life just doesn’t get better than that. Well, maybe if I had a cheeseburger…

12 Things I Learnt from My (Less than Brilliant) Vlogging Debut

For those not yet in the know (where have you been?) I recently announced my intentions to take over the world. Well, the blogging world at least.

So in addition to perfecting my evil dictator laugh, I have begun working on ideas to expand my readership. With this in mind, I foolishly decided to make a video log (or “vlog”).

I hope my debut vlogging experience can be used as a cautionary tale, for anyone else crazy enough to even think about trying.

Here are the top twelve things I learnt:

1. Invest in a tripod. I’m pretty sure professionals have no need to attach their camera to a cardboard box with masking tape. Or place said box on top of another box, precariously balanced on their bed, alongside a broken lamp.

2. Good lighting hides a multitude of sins. Bad lighting makes you look like a big fat spotty toad. Sadly, I fall into the latter category. That is my defence – and I’m sticking with it.

3. Have a plan of action. For reasons of continuity, you will not want to rerecord anything afterwards in your pyjamas.

4. Adlib. Whilst planning is extremely helpful and saves time – my best bits by far were totally impromptu. Yes, I am aware that I have just totally contradicted myself.

5. Record multiple takes of everything. You’d be surprised how many times you can fluff up in only a matter of minutes. Or maybe that’s just me?

6. Employ a glamorous assistant. As an extrovert, I gain most of my energy from other people. As such, I found my true personality didn’t really come out when talking to a camera lense.

Your glamorous assistant can also take ownership of button-pushing, face-fanning and tea/coffee/biscuit duties. So long as you pay them enough.

7. Keep it brief. I managed to cut down about an hour’s footage into five minutes and fourteen seconds. I wish it was shorter.

I can only apologise.

8. Enunciate. Otherwise you’ll sound like a rugged commoner. When I say “write” in the video, you can’t hear the “t”.

I’m now in grave danger of being disowned by my mother.

9. Stick with whatever word you originally planned to say. If you start saying “blogs”, then mid-word change to “posts”, the resulting word will be “blosts”. (I managed this fourteen seconds into my video. Impressive I know).

10. Know your weaknesses. Maths is not my strong point. Check out the percentages’ breakdown roughly three and a half minutes in. I’d love to say this was intentional. It wasn’t. I just can’t add up.

My father’s going to disown me too.

11. Avoid “Um” and “Err”. They are not your friends.

12. Don’t be afraid to fail. It will probably take you a whole day to film and edit your complete pile of excrement. But don’t worry if it’s not a cinematic masterpiece, so long as you learnt something – or maybe twelve things.

I’d like to dedicate my video to all the lovely bloggers who responded to my recent post ‘Friends, Romans, Readers, Lend Me Your Ears’ with such fabulous questions. I’m blaming you.

Cue evil dictator laugh: “M’wah ha ha ha haaaaaaaa!”