Late night rant: This weather

So, I haven’t ranted in a while, I apologise, I’ve been busy, trying to scale mountains and shit (not literally) but in a professional sense of the term, yeah, kinda. So I haven’t really had the time to sit here and puke up the words to rant on here, for a while, something I’m sure most of you are surely grateful for. But, after spending most of today working my ass off, I sat down, had some dinner and thought, I haven’t blogged for a while, let’s write up some stuff and see what comes out. Earlier was a happier post, a much needed joy-fest of writing about my love for my iPhone and I do love you my iPhone, mwah mwah mwah. I won’t be ranting about you my little silver bundle of joy.

What I will be ranting about is the weather. All Londoners, actually Britons will know the frustration that is this fucking weather. Is this fun to Mother Nature to piss (literally) on our parade when we’re really getting into the sunshine spirit?

For 3 days this week the weather was actually kinda awesome, with yesterday being fucking cool, not cool as in ice cool but fucking awesome cool. Hot, delicious glorious weather, sunning me whilst I sat outside in the garden, doing emails, for work, with a cold iced soda, lapping up the sun to try and give me that most desperately needed sun kissed glow just about everyone else in the world is loving, yet we’re being deprived of.

Then today happened. I mean, what was it? Look you can have fun, but we’re actually gonna take it away with you because you Britons deserve crap for moaning about the weather, so that sun was a bit of a tease and now here’s some rain. Fuck you. Total bullshit.

Why? What have we done to actually gain more rain and depression and puddles and shit? What? Can we not just have our summer now please? BBQ’s, picnics, shorts, tops, sunglasses, anything that is far more fun than this cold depression in MAY, MAY.

Google and my iPhone says it’s going to be sunny tomorrow, you better be. I don’t need to spend another day in twenty jumpers, a hat, thick socks and a dressing gown to prove a point to my housemates we don’t need the heating on this month.



Call me a grumpy old twenty something, but I’m not doing the ice bucket challenge

Well done to those who have taken part in the Ice Bucket Challenge.  To the hundreds of celebrities and people who have raised awareness for charities across the world. To be honest I didn’t even know what ALS (Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis) was before, I mean I heard about it, but I didn’t understand what it meant fully.

What is ALS? 

Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), often referred to as “Lou Gehrig’s Disease,” is a progressive neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve cells in the brain and the spinal cord. Motor neurons reach from the brain to the spinal cord and from the spinal cord to the muscles throughout the body. The progressive degeneration of the motor neurons in ALS eventually leads to their death. When the motor neurons die, the ability of the brain to initiate and control muscle movement is lost. With voluntary muscle action progressively affected, patients in the later stages of the disease may become totally paralyzed.

Why am I not doing the ice bucket challenge?

Call me an old git, but I refuse to do it. At first  the whole point about the ALS ice bucket challenge was about raising awareness but now it seems to be people pouring buckets of water on their heads for a laugh and that’s just not cool. Yeah I’m a spoilsport, an inconsiderate individual that has no sense of fun, who has no idea how incredible this movement is because “did you know Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerberg, Jamie Dornan and even Victoria Posh Spice Beckham took part, so why aren’t you?’

I’m not doing it for the following reasons:

Peer pressure 

I’m all for people raising awareness through whatever campaigns, go wild with that but I don’t think people should make you feel guilty about if you do or don’t take part. Everyone helps donating and raising awareness their own ways and nominating people to pour a bucket of water over their heads when it’s seriously fucking cold outside or outing them on whichever social media channel is a bit pathetic. If someone wants to raise money, they shouldn’t be told how much they should donate and shouldn’t feel like they have to take part in this challenge.

Charity can happen in many different ways – why does it have to be through ice and water? 

Anyone can choose to donate to a chosen charity how they want to, whether that is through spending time with those youngsters who patrol our high streets at the weekend and donating a fiver per month, running in a silly costume in a race, spending time with your elderly neighbour who has no one to spend their evenings with – why should we be made to choose who we donate to? The time I would have wasted a bucket for of water over my head (I should just stand under the rain and get soaked for an hour willingly for a laugh – natural and I didn’t waste any water – oooh a plan!) I think anyone who wants to donate should be able to do so, through any method they want to and have the choice of who they want to donate to.

The whole point is not to see how many people ‘like’ your video

Thanks to the likes of the God-awful Kardashian clan, it’s all about self promotion these days – ‘oh look at my butt in these super tight jeans’ – this challenge shouldn’t be to see how many “likes” you can get, it should be to raise awareness. Out of the 300 friends on my Facebook, probably the 25 out of the 50 people who have done it, have actually donated. Shame on the rest who thinks it’s now just seen as a fun past-time.

You won’t catch me in a bikini top flaunting my curves in this weather

If you’re English, you’ll get me on this one, it’s personally too friggin cold to stand outside in my teeny ting shorts and bikini top showcasing my figure that should only be available to blind people on the beach, whilst I pour water over myself. Let’s just save that image from all your minds and watch people who are stupid do it this way:

My donation, my choice

Personally my donation is going to two charities. I couldn’t choose 1 in particular because, well, I feel strongly about 1 and now understanding the full ins and outs about ALS or MND, I am donating to this charity as well.

Cancer Research UK

No other charity anywhere in the world is doing more to beat cancer than we are. We’re the only one fighting over 200 cancers, including the one that matters most to you, and here in the UK we’re the single largest funder of cancer research. All this is only possible with our generous supporters and hard-working scientists.

Cancer Research UK has been working on pioneering life-saving research for over a century. These pages tell the story of our groundbreaking achievements and the real progress we’re making in preventing, diagnosing and treating cancer.

The Motor Neurone Disease Association 

Motor neurone disease is a rare condition that affects around 2 in every 100,000 people each year in the UK. There are about 5,000 people living with the condition in the UK at any one time.

Most cases first develop in people in their early 60s, but people as young as 18 and as old as their 90s can also develop the disease. Motor neurone disease affects slightly more men than women.

In 5% of cases, the person has a family history of motor neurone disease or the related condition frontotemporal dementia. This is known as familial motor neurone disease, and relatives of the person may be at an increased risk of developing the disease in later life.

Thanks to the ALS challenge, I now understand the full meaning of MND and the difficulty people face on a daily, weekly, monthly and yearly basis.  Both these charities have done a significant amount to raise awareness and my donation will hopefully make a difference, even though it’s small.

Final note

I hope that anyone who chooses to continue to take part in this ‘challenge’ actually continues to raise awareness for the charities they have hopefully donated to. Anyone that wants to donate should donate to a charity that they relate to and you should choose how you want to donate. Your difference makes a change, however big or small.

Neknominate: Stop the craze, save a life, grow up.

Alcohol awareness charity DrinkAware has called on parents to take the lead against extreme and dangerous drinking challenges like Neknominate on social media channels. Since this craze has gone ‘viral,’ three young people have died taking part in the challenge. The apparent ‘craze’ involves participants, young, old and stupid encourage each other to film themselves consuming large amounts of alcohol in one go, nominating someone else to continue the game, wherever in the world, via video on social channels including Facebook, Twitter and YouTube.

I’ll be honest, I do like a few glasses of wine in the evening after a long day, or meeting my best mate at the pub for a jolly old knees up, but this happens over a long period of time. Ok, probably the amount of alcohol units consumed would be enough to give most doctors a heart attack, but with food and being sensible with my alcohol consumption, I am being careful.
This Neknominate crap, was mentioned in my local the other day, with some daft twits nominating each other to neck a pint of lager, whilst filming themselves and posting it to Facebook. Over the course of a week, the nominations bounced back and forth between the 8 that took part and it seems their *crazy viral idea* has fallen off the face of the earth.
This online chain letter thrown in with childish games seems to be the talk on everyone’s lips in the press recently. It is believed to have started in Perth, Australia. The trend swept across the country, faster than you can say Jack Robinson and everyone from teenagers to fully grown men are getting in on this stupid craze. The friggin craze has its own Wikipedia page for Fuck’s sake. Some people are saying it’s the craze to get involved with, whilst others are trying  to stop it and campaign for young people’s safety.
Those who are getting involved with the campaign to stop it includes a horrified mother who went public with a picture of her unconscious son who was covered in his own vomit, in a bit to spread awareness. Nikki Hunter found her son passed out on the sofa, after a night out with mates, drinking three bottles of spirits. Her 19 year old student son, had accepted a dare to film himself downing a horrendous, unbelievable deadly mix of vodka, whisky, Southern Comfort, Barcadi and Sherry, BARF.
After the twat worried his mother into position thinking he was unconscious or dying, she put him in the recovery position and took a picture to warn others of the dangers of Neknominate.
I hate being there when people are sick, damn I hate when I’m sick, it’s disgusting, makes you feel totally gross and generally shit, so having a photo catapulted across newspapers and social media channels should be a lesson to 19 year old Kieran and all the others out there.
Some of the dares are just unimaginable. Girls dressed in their underwear parading round the local supermarket, drinking live goldfish (yes you read that right), eating and drinking the contents of a fridge, riding into a store on a horse, or running up a motorway semi-naked drinking huge quantities of alcohol, for the fun of it.
Everyone who drinks, likes a tipple. Whether your drink of choice is wine, like me, a cold beer, a perfectly poured Guinness or something a little stronger like a good spirit. Christ, I’m not judging you, everyone has their own little pick-me-ups but this type of game is really stupid. This game is letting children and young people believe it is acceptable in our society to do this. It’s not. Drinking is dangerous if not done carefully. I’ve been an idiot in the past, at 21 drinking my body weight in vodka & red bull, because at £2.50 a pint, I didn’t see the wrong in it – until the next morning when I felt like I was having a heart attack. The truth is, you have to know your limits.
This game is sick, it’s encouraging too young people to get involved, exploiting kids of all ages, promoting something that really isn’t or shouldn’t be promoted and harming those around them, including animals, which is completely fucked up.
The Daily Mirror reported a few weeks ago that the RSPCA has got involved to stop animal cruelty.

The RSPCA is launching animal cruelty investigations into pranksters who film themselves downing goldfish as part of a bizarre drinking game.

The animal welfare charity has received numerous complaints of footage being posted online of people drinking alcohol with fish in the glass.

The incidents appear to be part of new craze called NekNominate, involving people filming themselves “necking’ alcohol, then nominating a friend to do the same – and challenging each other on to do more extreme and outlandish feats.

In one clip posted on Facebook, a thug dressed in pants and a bow tie, proudly drinks THREE goldfish in a glass with cider, eggs, battery fluid and urine.

RSPCA wildlife scientist Nicola White said: “We are extremely concerned about this shocking new trend. We have had quite a few similar cases reported to us in a very short space of time – but this could be just the tip of the iceberg as there’s probably many more we have not been told about.

“Eating a live animal and posting of a film of it on the internet is not some light-hearted joke – it is unacceptable. It sends out a clear message that animal cruelty is OK as long as it is in the guise of entertainment.

“We urge people not to take part in this horrible craze and to report to us anyone who is taking part.”

 If you’re really that desperate to get noticed, to make new friends, or whatever it is you think will make you more popular, take a leaf out of these guys books, and grow the fuck up.

If you want to be noticed for doing something a little different, give up your Neknomination and trade it in for a RAKnomination, also known as Random Acts of Kindness.  Not sure what that is? Google it.

Yet another rant about Travel in London

I apologise to everyone who reads my posts and quite possibly, think ‘Oh Dannii, just shut the f*ck up,’ but, if like me you live in West London and get a train that normally shoots its way to Reading & Windsor or to London Waterloo, you’ll understand my frustration. Two weeks on from the TFL tube strikes and since the flooding has got worse, my commute to work has been a total pain in the backside.

I live in Twickenham,  just 10 miles (16 km) southwest of the centre of London, home of England rugby, lush little eateries, boutique shops and a 10 minute walk to Marble Hill house by the river or 15 minutes walk to Richmond Deer park. Us Twickers have been lucky enough not to experience the awful events that have occurred in recent weeks with this horrendous weather that has terrorised our neighbouring towns but the effects can be seen throughout our commutes. Friends, colleagues and fellow passengers have all seen the effects, some way or another getting to and from work, from all parts of the country, so this little rant, doesn’t just put us South Westies on the map.

Last week, I was late if not by 1 minute, definitely more than 15 on a few occasions. Trains were packed, squashing even the likes of local MP, Vince Cable on the train, like tinned sardines, all desperate to get to work on time for the week ahead. Yesterday, however, not so much as to a squashed sardine. Cancellations, delays and what not have caused a little fury bouncing off a few fellow commuters.


image (1)It’s sad news that even with the weather possibly clearing up that everyone who has been affected by the horror that is the floods, that it all wont be sorted for quite a few months but delays, delays, delays on all the trains. Really? Unless the weather is swishing around the station, do we really need to have to wait 27 minutes for a delayed or cancelled train? Where does it say that everyone has to turn into a ninny, as soon as a little trickle of delays are floated about?

Mind seriously does boggle, when this shit happens. Some people are just twats.

Since when did Valentine’s Day become more about the money made, rather than love itself?

Happy Valentine’s Day a whole year on from my single self. I’m now in a relationship – yippee yay and I still agree with myself from last year. Why? Well, my boyfriend is not the romantic type, unless you count a trip to Nando’s and the cinema to watch that Tom Hanks Captain something or rather. I’d like to point out, I am in no way a miserable prick, I don’t spend my time at home, plotting against Valentine’s day all year round or ignore my boyfriend when we both get home, because I’m a bitch, no, not at all. I just don’t see what all the fuss is about.

For example, my boyfriend said he would like to go for dinner somewhere, then, if we wanted, we could go for drinks later, if we wanted to. See, that sounds lovely doesn’t it? It does. Except, although a gorgeously romantic gesture, the restaurant we like going to is charging £30 extra (minus alcohol) because it’s Valentine’s Day. Er, why? You threw in some extra balloons, some pink glitter and roses and we have to pay for that too?
I love that my boyfriend treats me. He does great little gestures that mean a lot to me and that’s what makes me happy – he does that all year round. Not spending an extortionate amount of money on one day to give into the corporate money mine of all those retailers.
I’m pretty sure Valentine’s Day never started out with the Romans standing by their food/textiles stalls banging their produce about the place, desperately trying to get their customers to buy into all their shit. Not anything like the way most retailers shove it down your throats now.
It all has to be about the perfect card, perfect gift, perfect date, dinner and whatever else. Why does it have to be one day and not every day?
What is it?
There are many different stories of the origins of who or what exactly is Valentine but most say it’s from a famous saint. The day gets its name from a famous saint, but there are several stories of who he was. The popular belief about St Valentine is that he was a priest from Rome in the third century AD. Emperor Claudius II had banned marriage because he thought married men were bad soldiers. Valentine felt this was unfair, so he broke the rules and arranged marriages in secret. When Claudius found out, Valentine was thrown in jail and sentenced to death. There, he fell in love with the jailer’s daughter and when he was taken to be killed on 14 February he sent her a love letter signed “from your Valentine”.
It’s like retailers looked at their piece of history and shat all over it. Let’s fill our shops with endless crap and make people believe this is the shit they need that one day of the year, better than the rest.
The whole ‘we need a day to tell my partner how much we love him/her’ is just crap. I don’t need one day to tell them how much I love them, I do it everyday, if he cooks (rare), pulls a silly face to make me laugh (often) and everything else that makes me love him.
It’s too commercialised.
Did you know?
  • Britons were predicted to spend £978m on their wives, husbands – and prospective partners – on Valentine’s Day gifts, going out and weekends away.
  • The average spend for a man is £39.57 and £22.64 for a woman – although this varies from city to city.
  • Most popular gifts for women include flowers, chocolates and perfume, whilst men get chocolate, dinner and aftershave.
Love has nothing to do with how a retailer measures their profits. There’s too much pressure for those who are in relationships to have the perfect relationship. Fuck sake, it’s hard enough as it is, without having to make it perfect. Nothing in life is perfect, especially a relationship. It’s hard work. For those who are single, stupid retailers make everyone believe that being single sucks, fuck you it doesn’t.

So whatever you are doing this Valentines Day, have a good day. It’s a Friday, like every other Friday, get drunk, eat happy, lounge about, sleep well, party on or do what you want, enjoy it.
Love x


Morning Rant: People on public transport, are they from a different world?


What is it with people on public transport that turns them into complete morons? This morning I got onto the train thinking that it would be a good day. Instead it was a journey of hell rather than fun. There are some thing in life that are simply unexplainable. This, this morning is most definitely one of them.

Picture this; get on the train, the cool air-conditioned carriage, put in your earphones and lie back, head resting on the semi-comfortable red passenger seats. It’s only a 25 minute train journey. We love sitting on the fast trains, whizzing into London Waterloo, rather than stopping at every stop, is a lifesaver, especially in the mornings. I had just come out of the dentist. 2 more wisdom teeth had been yanked out, the blood and the feeling of numb gums and a baggy bottom lip (hate that feeling), the last thing you want is people disturbing the peace. Well, today, clearly wasn’t my day.

Woman with the IQ of a knat and her 3 screaming brats were causing mayhem on the overground. Kept running up and down the carriage, knocked over an old woman and kept pulling on the emergency stop alarm. One very put-together suit, approached her and told her to control her children, which was responded with that oh so lovely thing girls (and guys) of a certain age do when they have no respect for their society, kissed her teeth and saw red.

“You fucking what?”

Believe me, the suit moved along quite quickly as Vicky Pollard and her crew of shitty misfits pulled the face that threatened ‘move along, or watch your back.’

Where was Jeremy Kyle?


Hopefully my tutting (I’m definitely getting older) and the mumbling of, this is why condoms are used, muttered under my breath made her get the hint- probably not but heres hoping her day is shit and smothered in karma.

This is where a carriage for the inconsiderate f*ckwits and their offspring should be placed. It has caused me to be late, later than planned and I feel a migraine coming alone. Not enough tea in the world can make me feel a little more spritely after having 2 more wisdom teeth yanked out. Aaargh.

End of rant, I need to work. I might write a letter to Jeremy and South West Trains about that carriage thing. Or start a petition and see what the response is.

Over and out.

The ‘Other’ Inbox – the portal to the underground

My ‘other’ inbox in Facebook is full of some random things. Spam, messages of love, invitations for marriage, dates, prize messages, ‘You’ve won the lottery’ and special discounts on the latest Viagra tablets and so forth. It’s all a little strange. Digital Trends, a digital and technology reviews website, posted an article by Katie Knibbs, a writer from Chicago, last week about Facebook’s feature, the ‘other’ inbox. It’s seriously a portal of weird beings who just exist to irritate. Knibbs identified the main categories of the weird aliens who contact you.

They are:

  • The ‘confused friends who don’t know how to add you’
  • Event updates
  • Page updates
  • The creepers
  • The spammers

I honestly never had taken a notice until a notification pinged up onto my iPhone that I had a message from John Clive.  A 50 something year old dude who clearly hasn’t heard the word ‘perv.’ John Clive messaged me this:



There are a few things wrong with this.

First off, my name is not pretty, therefore you won’t find it under the English Dictionary with my picture attached. I have a name for a reason. Please do your research John, before you contact me.

Secondly, ‘I feel so good and secured after going through your profile’ – that’s not stalkerish AT ALL. I know for a fact my profile isn’t available to the masses. I know I have a public profile but only so much can be viewed across it. It freaks me out that there is a right weirdo out there getting off on my profile, if he’s even doing that. Still freaky though.

Thirdly, ‘can we get to know each other?’ No, is the answer to that. I really don’t want to know anymore about you.

I checked out his profile and it confirms it. He’s a bit of a loser. He’s from America, wouldn’t at all be bad looking if I passed him in the street, has a few photo’s of him larking around or posing by a lamp post but has a rather proud ‘look at me’ moment, kneeling next to a rather large, I’m pretty sure it’s dead, turkey, smiling proudly into the camera with his prize.

I don’t know about you, but generally when random stuff is posted to you online, you tend to either ignore it or throw it to the sheep end into the trash/spam folder. This, I’m just amazed it has the response to it, like it has.

I asked the guys in my office and they were generally surprised they even had a ‘other’ inbox and the rest were amused by the message John had sent me. My colleague Olly, jumped through the air when he found 89 messages within his ‘other’ folder, where most of the messages consisted of spam and he won something on a caption contest back in December and he’s missing out on his £10 Amazon voucher. How exciting.

To access your “hidden” inbox, click on the “Messages” link on the left-hand side of your Facebook home page. From there, you should see a sub-option—called “Other“—pop up under Messages or situated next to your “inbox” option. Click that to see your other messages.

Have you had a weird experience with your ‘other’ inbox? I’m interested to hear your responses.