Tuesday, 30 March 2010

It Doesn't Matter

At this exact moment in time I have nothing to write about as due to my sheer laziness today I have done nothing except fill in the album section on my itunes for all the songs missing an album. How very productive!

So here is my play list of the last hour or so...

Joan Jett - Bad Reputation
Angie Hart - Blue
Sarah McLachlan - Prayer of Saint Francis
Four Star Mary - Shadow
Zombie Prom Soundtrack - Good As It Gets
Rilo Kiley - Picture of Success
Alison Krauss - It Doesn't Matter
Blink 182 - What's My Age Again?
The Beach Boys - God Only Knows
John Hiatt - Have A Little Faith in Me
Bob Marley - One Love

Now as (shamefully) Blue - Breathe Easy begins to play (I blame the shuffle button!!) I think it is time I go and do something with my life!!

Hopefully there will be a proper blog soon :)

Monday, 29 March 2010

One hand claps not without the other

This mornings shuffle playlist...

Foo Fighters - Best of You
Cascada - Truly Madly Deeply
Ray Quinn - New York, New York
My Chemical Romance - Cemetery Drive
Paramore - Pressure
Blink 182 - All of This
Nickelback - Figured You Out
Amy Studt - Superior Mind
Avril Lavigne - Losing Grip
Cibo Matto - Sugar Water

Sunday, 28 March 2010

For all those time you stood by me

As I sit back and wait for my parents to pick me up from uni for the Easter holidays I take some time to reflect on the last few months of my life and of my friends lives. I put pictures, cards, cinema tickets, notes and other special objects onto my wall and I remember all of the things I have to be thankful for, all of the friends I owe endlessly for their friendships and all of the honour and respect I owe to each and every one of my friends.

The last few months have been a bit up and down in many ways, for both me and my friends. I have been a shoulder to few and seeked a shoulder from many.

This is the first time in a long time I feel anywhere near whole. I have made some pretty huge mistakes on my journey back here, I have got lost a few too many times and been left to wander in the dark when my light has gone out, and each time someone has found me. Each time someone has given me a hand and pulled me back up, they have carried me when I have no longer been able to walk and they have been my voice when I have not been able to speak. And some, have just given me the massive kick in the ass I needed!

Sharing my life with so many wonderful people fills me with not only a lot of hope but a huge amount of certainty and belief. Because of these people I know that it is possible to find your way back out of the darkest pit of hellish pain you have ever felt, I believe that a smile can never be completely lost, it is just trying to find its way back to you, and I am more aware now of the people around me and their feelings.

You get knocked down nine times, you get up ten

I wish I could tell all of my friends just how proud I am of each and every one of them. I wish I had the words so I could thank them for everything they have each done for me. For every song played to me, for every
Friends quote quoted to me, for every cup of tea made, for every moment spent sat in silence, for every moment spent sat in noise, for every text and every call, for each kind word said to me, for each hard word said to me that maybe stung at times but that I needed to hear, that I needed to be told, for each look of knowing that only a true friend can give, for each car drive, for each trip to the shop to get food neither of us really wanted or needed but decided to buy anyway just for some comfort, for something to do, for each time I should have been judged and looked down on and wasn't, for each supportive word said to me no matter how much or how little I deserved it
, for always being there regardless.

This is the first time in a long time I feel anywhere near whole. And all I can say is
Thank you.

Friday, 26 March 2010


Sometimes the best way to teach someone something can be through a bad example.
Sometimes the best way to learn is to see how not to do it.
Sometimes you have to look for the positive in the negative. I think that's the best way to live.

For as long as I can remember I have grown up with parents who carry the burden of money issues around with them. We have moved house several times because of it and my Dad has had 3 jobs at a time to try and make enough money so that he could pay bills and buy Christmas presents for my brother and me. My Mom has dipped in and out of her savings and me and my brother have grown up for the earlier part of our lives in hand me down clothes from family friends. Until the age of 13 I had never been abroad on holiday, and even then it was a school trip that allowed me to travel, not a family holiday, I have not been abroad again since then. My brother, now 19, has been abroad twice, both times with his friend and his parents, both times he had to pay for the majority of it himself out of savings he had. Family holidays we have had have always been cheap Sun holidays or camping in Wales, at times my Dad has had to get a credit card simply to pay for that.

By no means at all have I grown up in poverty, we have always had food on the table (maybe not things we like) and for the better part of growing up we have always been able to have the heating on in winter.

We haven't always had a car and our first 'proper' car was given to us by my Grandad when I was about 9, which we finally ran into the ground about 4 years ago. Since then we have had one other car which cost us £300 and even that was a breaking-into-savings job. Before that we had a car we looked after for a year or so for some friends while they went to Africa to work, then we had a teeny tiny car for about a week before it broke down and we sold it for scrap.

I have always been aware of the money issues my Mom and Dad have. I remember seeing their bank statement when I was younger and seeing a figure in the early thousands and saying to my Dad "Wow you have a lot of money!" to which he replied, "No Poppet, that's what we owe." and I have always been careful when asking for things, whether it be a birthday or Christmas present or simply a brand named chocolately snack. My Dad has been very good and always looks out for the offers, where my Mom has never really been able to get her head around how much things cost compared to how much money she actually has. She can be quite materialistic, but a lot of that comes from her literally growing up in near poverty. She grew up without a bath or shower for a lot of her childhood, lived in at least 13 different flats or houses, and put cardboard in her school shoes. At Christmas while the other kids went down the hills on sledges, Mom and her sisters would go down in an old bin bag. So to come from that to being able to afford a mortgage on her own home I can understand why she finds it hard to understand that she still has to be sparing with her money.

For me the greatest lesson my parents have ever taught me is to never have a credit card, to never borrow money you do not own, because for them, this is a decision, twenty plus years on, they are literally still paying for.

My Dad used to collect gramophones and records, model toy cars and owned a collection of old wooden furniture, which over the years he has had to sell because we needed the money more. Each time I saw him open his box of records and begin sieving through them, picking out the most valuable ones to sell, I felt a pain inside. It is truly heartbreaking to see the lengths your parents will go to ensure that you have the best possible childhood, and it is even more heartbreaking when you see them realise almost ten years later that the one thing they did, that they thought was the best decision they ever made, didn't work and was the one decision that hurt you the most and still does to this day.

At the age of twenty I began University in Worcester. I was adamant from a very young age that I would never go to uni, simply because I did not want to borrow money and get into a lot of debt for a degree I potentially did not need, yet in my last year of college I was literally forced to apply for uni by a tutor who thought it would be a good experience for me and ensured me that the debt was nothing too major for me to start worrying about. Over a year and a half into my degree and I am so glad that tutor threw me out the class room until I had filled in my UCAS application.

During my time at uni I have both commuted and lived there, both have been invaluable experiences to me. I have made some truly incredible friends who I know I will never forget, they would never let me. I have fallen in love a little and had my heart broken too. I have had some of the most random conversations possible and some of the drunkest nights out ever. I have dressed up more than ever before and slept on goodness knows how many floors during my year of commuting. I have been on my first holiday with just friends, and found out so much more about myself than I ever would have, had I stayed at home and simply got a job. I have grown up a lot and I have become more immature at the same time.

And I have learnt the true value of money.

I now have two bank accounts, one has an overdraft I have never dipped in to, the other has a balance that has still never gone down to zero. I have a part time job and a savings account. I go out at least once a week and, although I know I shouldn't, I buy food out everyday rather than preparing packed lunches before class.

I feel that although sometimes I know I could use my money a bit better, that I am generally very good with what I have. I pay all my own bills, my rent, my phone contract, my contact lenses, my prescriptions and I give my Dad a small percentage of the cost of my laptop which we went eighty/twenty on for my twenty first birthday present.

Sometimes I feel guilty that I have more money than a lot of my friends, and even my parents. I watch my friends struggle a lot to pay rent or buy food, I see them worry as they come closer and closer towards the end of their overdrafts and I know that a lot of them live on pretty much just air during the last few weeks running up to their next loan.

I am so thankful for the lessons my parents gave, and are still giving me, in money. They showed me through all of their mistakes how I never wanted to live and how I never want my children to grow up.

Sometimes my Mom apologises to me for never taking me and my brother on a "proper holiday" when we were younger, and I believe her when she says how much it breaks her heart knowing that she never got to take us to Disney Land as little kiddies.

My Dad is forever telling me how much it still hurts him knowing that making us move from our second house is probably the most painful experience of my childhood, he tells me that he regrets it everyday, and says that he was only trying to do the right thing for us, but that in hindsight it was probably the worst decision he and my Mom ever made. Yet I could never be angry or upset at them.

For all of the ways they claim to have "let us down" I will only ever see a mountain of truly selfless acts of love and the best lessons a parent could ever give a child. I only hope one day I can repay all of the wonderful things my parents have given me, that I can buy them a nice brand new car, or pay off their mortgage for them, clear their debts or send them on the holiday of a lifetime. I hope that they know that as much as a struggle growing up has been at times that they gave me the best childhood I could hope for. At the time I may not have seen it, always being the last in the class to get the 'in' toy at the time or playing with hand-me-down-hair-cut-off barbie dolls from my older cousins, but now I do. They have always done everything in their power to make sure my brother and me were happy, at times they have messed up a little, but what parent hasn't. All I know is that of all the toys or the brand name foods I grew up missing, love was something that was always present, and that is the most important thing a child needs. They have made me the person I am today because of the lessons they have taught me, however dysfunctional they may have been at times, I thank them for every single one of them.
my name is amy cole and i like to blog about things such as, thomas budgen, tariq khan and battlestar galactica.


Wednesday, 24 March 2010


I don't quite know what to say. I have so many thoughts running through my head, so many questions I'm asking myself and no way of knowing which is the right answer, if in fact, there is any.

Is it my place to tell you how I'm feeling, to express my worry and question your motives? Is it my time to step in to something I could be seeing with completely blurry vision or am I in fact seeing it clearer than maybe perhaps you yourself? How do I know that my concerns are valid and when do they become any of my business anyway when in reality the only person they are anything to do with is yourself? By not saying anything am I being an enemy rather than a friend, even if my interference may upset you for a while? Surely it is better to speak up and be wrong than say nothing and be right?

It bothers me. I'm not going to pretend it doesn't, I care too much to just sit by and watch. Yet I think that maybe I need to watch and observe a little longer before I decide which answer is the right one for me.

"I see more than anybody realises because nobody’s watching me. Maybe that’s my power. Seeing. Knowing."

Tuesday, 23 March 2010

I thank you for our paths

As soon as you read this you'll know it's for you, so I'm not going to name you, I don't need to.

I wish when you looked in a mirror you could see what I see. I wish you could see and believe in yourself and the paths you have taken as much as I do. Seeing you on that stage singing those songs make me believe that there is hope for people like us and that we are in no way wasting our time here. I swear that show was written for you, I look around that studio and there is not a single person I think could even come close to performing that role as you do, you're a true natural at it. And not only that - The way you walked in to that society and created friendships with everyone instantly is a quality I will always envy of you.

I don't think you realise just how bright your light shines. You wrongly dim yourself at times, as if to try and let others shine, but you don't need to. It's your light that feeds others and gives them the courage to shine themselves. It is for me at least!

Everyone knows that the end of last semester I had it rough with the panto, and I think a lot of people saw me slowly begin to fade and disappear. I became lost and for a time I had no way to escape because I needed to stay there to do that show and sing those songs. I was tied down and I had no way of cutting the chords, and for a time this semester I have felt like that again. There have been nights I have come home and cried myself to sleep, and rehearsals I have walked into and had my light blown out instantly. There have been many times I have almost walked out without a second glance, knowing that no one would even notice.

The last few days though, I feel that my light has been lit again - because of you. Now when I walk into that studio I know I will be wanted, and I know that if I ever did leave I would be missed. So thank you.

I know that I don't have a very big role this time, but I am in no way jealous of you or anyone else, I am only happy. Seeing you up there singing fills me with a sense of pride because I get to honestly call you one of my best friends. I think at that I am rather lucky!

I hope you read this and realise just how much of an impact you have on the people around you. I hate to see you feeling down and lost and I only hope that this gives you a sense of belonging again because right now I think this is where you belong.

We all chose different paths in our lives and they will weave in and out of other peoples paths. We get to travel and experience those journeys with one another, however brief or long it may be. I hope our paths will never part because you are honestly one of the most beautiful roads I have ever had the pleasure of travelling and I know one day you will find your way back on to the path you sometimes feel you may have strayed from.

Never stop believing in what you want, because what you want is something you deserve and something I have no doubt in you achieving.

Thank you for helping me find my own light again. I will always do my very best to help you find your own.

Monday, 22 March 2010

Let me get lost in the music and make a world of my own

Regarding my post late last night I would just like to take a moment to post this video. The video quality itself isn't too great but the song is beautiful.

It is a cover of The Killers 'Smile Like You Mean It' by Bring Home The Love. They are some brilliantly talented people who are such amazing guys, of course I am biased as they are my best friends brother Chris and his friend Lee, but after spending one truly amazing night with them in the Crown & Anchor aka The Chicken late 2009 and singing with them in an open mic night I can honestly say you will never meet two more lovely guys. Anyway, here is the video of them busking in Oxford (I think).

Bring back the music we can fall in love to.
Bring back the music with can get lost in.
Bring back the music that fills peoples hearts with ambition and makes dreams a reality.

Sunday, 21 March 2010

Is it just me

or does todays music all sound pretty much the same?

I feel dissatisfied with a lot of the music that is around at the moment. What happened to lyrics that mean something? To sounds that are sounds and not just a messy colobration of noise? What happened to the lyrics you can lose yourself in completely?

I miss the days when music was appreciated rather than given to anyone and everyone to do with as they wish and abuse in their own 'new arty' way.

Bring us back talent.
Bring us back lyrics.
Bring us back music.

Tuesday, 16 March 2010

Gossip Girls

It's amazing how for so long you can think that the past is actually in the past. That things that happened months ago, are left there, a distant memory that no one really tends to turn back to because it's easier to avoid it. That you've managed to move on, come out of it a broken soul but kind of sew yourself back together, however mishmash that may be. That you no longer think about it so why should anyone else.

In a day all those beliefs can be turned on their heads and you find that you're still, months on, something to talk about. In a day you find out who your friends are, and who never were. And you find out how people manage to cover up their own guilt by labelling the innocent as guilty.

I didn't sleep with him. I wasn't ready. I trusted him to a point, the point where I trust most people, the point that since him doesn't really exist any more, the point he took with him along with everything else.

Behind every girl who doesn't trust, is the guy who took it away from her.

Today I find out that it's my fault he cheated. That it's my fault I got used, and hurt, and lied about, and talked about. That it's my fault that she got hurt too, that it's my fault that she was so naive to go back to him. It's my fault because I "should have know".

Friends. Friends are the ones who have said this. Not close friends, not friends I really talk to all that much any more, but friends who said they felt sorry for me when they found out their best friend was a lying, cheating, two-faced scum bag. Friends who swore not to forgive him easily but who, two days after it all came out in the open, went out and celebrated his 22nd birthday. Friends who still see him everyday and act as though nothing ever happened. Friends who avoid me in the hall. Friends who look at me and think I don't don't notice. Friends whose conversations go quite when I walk into a room. Friends who blame me to make themselves feel better for forgiving the most hurtful person I have ever had the unfortunate mistake of caring for.

I didn't sleep with him. I wasn't ready. For this very reason.

So please, feel free to bitch about me behind my back in the library. To retell the story a million times over in your own edited edition of events that make me look like the bad guy and you all like saints. Miss out the parts where he lied to me just as much as he did to you. Forget to tell them that he was falling in love with me and then going back to her. Neglect to share that every night he wasn't out with you he was in my bed making plans with me and skip over the part where he nursed me when I was ill. Erase all the blame from him and land it all on me if you wish, if that is what it is you need to do to make yourselves feel better about your own actions then and ever since.

And while you do that I'll sit at home knowing that my friends, the ones who sat with me and said nothing while I cried myself to sleep every night, the ones who made me eat even just a piece of bread when all I had had for a week was water, the ones who helped me laugh when I believed the glorious sound had become a fictional character in a fairytale, are real friends. That they mean their words, that they do not blame me at all for getting hurt, only for caring enough to leave myself open for injury in the first place, which really is the bravest thing a person can do, that they will stand up for me when people like you are sharing the story with strangers, adding in new lines and taking out old, and that they will tell you to be quiet and stop your gossiping, for that moment at least.

I thought after all this time that people were past this. That it was a forgotten history in a tiny chapter of my life that I never had to revisit unless I chose to.

I know now that such luxuries do not exist. That your past is never past because it is always a part of your future. You cannot leave your past behind, you cannot escape it because it will always be a part of you, but it is something you can chose to become a help or a hindrance, and I'll be damned if you are a hindrance to me!

Sunday, 14 March 2010

Happy Mothers Day!

Today has been quite eventful. Let me share with you a little story if I may.

Last week my Dad rang me to see if I was coming home for Mothers Day, saying that he, my Mom, my brother, my two Nans, my Auntie Debbie and my cousins Sam and Jay were all going for a meal and wanted to know if I wanted a place booking for me too. I decided it would probably be a good idea as otherwise my Mom would get all upset and what not, despite me not liking the place they were going to eat.

So Debbie phoned to book a table at The Thorns Carvery only to find out that they weren't taking bookings and were simply seating people on a first come first serve basis.

At 1.30 we met outside the carvery as arranged, only to find that there was an hour wait on tables. The pub was absolutely packed! We agreed to the wait however as everywhere else would probably have a similar wait, we only had one car between 9 of us and no one had bought any food to cook at home, so it's off to the bar we trek while we wait to be called for our table.

An hour later Debbie decides to go and ask where in the queue we are, only to find out that there are still another 10 groups in front of us. However, we were reassured that it would not be much longer as once they had got the group of 18 and the group of 22 out of the restaurant they would be able to start getting through the queue quicker.

Soon there were only 8 groups in front.

6 groups.

3 groups.

Then we were called.

Once we had got to our table we then had to go and queue again for our food, by this time my very impatient auntie was speaking at the top of her lungs as she so often does when she is irritated.

By 4 o'clock we were finally seated with our food and everyone stopped talking and began to eat but the place where they had sat us was boiling. Nathan got up and opened a window which helped a little but it was still rather hot so off come all unnecessary clothing. Soon enough Nathan, Jay, Sam and myself had finished our food and I hurried off to the bar to get another glass of coke as I was still so hot.

As I waited at the bar I looked over at the table and saw my Mom and Debbie standing up - surely they aren't ready to go yet, they still had plates full of food when I left a moment ago. Next thing I know Mom is at my side, "Your Nanny Maureen has just been sick." Then comes the retching. "On to the table?" I ask. "Into a napkin." More retching. "Fetch her a glass of water."

By the time I got back to the table everyone bar my Dad have pushed their plates to the side and are looking at my Nan horrified as Debbie cleans the sick off the floor and Nan sheepishly wipes her trousers dry.

Staff continue to come over with blue roll and cloths to wipe the floor with and Mom apologises to the table next to us who have also pushed their plates to the side.

Dad tells Nathan to turn the radiator behind us down as the heat is causing the smell to rise and then tucks back into his lunch while Sam has turned her chair in to the wall and is sitting with her back to the rest of the family, covering her face with her hand.

It gets worse.

Debbie then decides that it is time for them to leave as Nan has embarrassed everyone and put not only our table but the one next to us off our food and starts to walk out. - For anyone who has met my auntie they will know that this is not a quiet lady and she not one to hold her tongue..

"Cor tek yo' bloody no wear!" She shouts across the pub at my Nan, "Shoein' us up laike that!"

Jay follows, looking at Nan who is sheepishly getting off her sicken seat and making her way across the pub, "Mom, why don't you hold her arm."

"Why doe you?!"

"She's covered in sick."

Sam follows, looking at the floor the entire time.

Mom goes out with them all to get some air while Dad stays seated, oblivious to the commotion and continues to eat as though nothing has happened. Seconds later Mom and Debbie come back in asking Dad for money, he hands them a tenner which they then try and force on to the ladies at the next table as a way of saying sorry for ruining their meal. They politely refuse and Mom and Debbie turn away.

"'Er sez it's 'cause th' stuffin' was too cheesy. 'A sed "No it ay it's 'cause you threw it don' yer neck s'fast!" 'Er piles 'er plate up then ates it in seconds!"

Debbie once again storms out the pub, followed by Mom and Nathan to say goodbye to everyone as their lift in the form of Sam's chavy-good-for-nothing-boyfriend has arrived.

Later on our way to our car we re-tell the story to each other, commenting on peoples reactions and how embarrassing the day has been. Mom fills us in on a few of the comments that took place outside while waiting for their lift.

Debbie: "Janice has waeted two hours fer a carrot on a pae!"

Nan: (To my Mom while getting into the car)"I won't kiss you Janice."
Mom: "Good."

I think it is fair to say that this is a Mothers Day we shall not forget in a hurry, even though we may wish we could!!

Saturday, 13 March 2010

Ol' Man River

I have just witnessed some photos which really made me lose all respect for the operatic society I used to be a member of. It is a society I did three shows with, and like most drama related things it was a very clicky, sometimes bitchy place. I had some lovely times with them and I had some times where I just wanted to throw in the towel and call it quits.

They put on a good show, of course I could be a bit biased, and their vocal quality is superb, they are known for doing the old musicals, the classics like Camelot and The Scarlet Pimpernel, but to see that in 1993 a complete white society did a production of Show Boat and blacked up half of the cast, to me, seems wrong.

As an old member of the society I know that each show is directed and rehearsed with care, but as a student who has studied the show that quite literally changed the face of musical theatre and dealt with deep issues of race it seems wrong and disrespectful to everything Hammerstein and Kern challenged and created.

To be successful at anything you need to know your boundaries. If you respect them then you can at times break them, sometimes it is right to, other times it is not and I think that this is one time that that boundary should have been respected.

Saturday, 6 March 2010

Oh to be a student!

To be a student is an amazing thing, low bank balances, 7 drunk nights out a week, living off super noodles and takeout, rushing work to meet deadlines, a messy room you're never in and a billion and one friends.

I am such an awful student!!

It is a Saturday night and after a tiring 9 hour shift at work I am not getting ready to go out and party my troubles away, nor am I planning a night of films and wine with the girls, instead, what I am doing is sitting in a beautifully tidy bedroom, eating a gorgeous salad and catching up on all the work I am behind on. And whats even more shocking is that I have given up alcohol for lent!

If this was a one time occurrence I suppose I could let it pass unnoticed, yet it was just last night that I turned down a night at the weekly SU karaoke with all of my best friends to clean the bungalow!!
Granted the cleaning started as a method of procrastination from the mountains of work I have to do, but still, I decided to procrastinate by cleaning rather than by spending time with my friends and parting from my well earned dosh!

Again. I am such an awful student!!

Even so, I wouldn't have it any other way :)

Wednesday, 3 March 2010

Pieces of Me

I'm a friendly person. I love to laugh, I have 'in' jokes with my friends. I'm the most immature person I know, I'm a child trapped inside a (young) adults body. I have Peter Pan Syndrome and I never want to grow up. I want to stay at that age where you can explore, and laugh at the top of your lungs and its acceptable. I want to stay at that point where nothing matters, not really, because all that you really care about, is life. Exploring, having adventures, laughing til you pee, play fights. Innocence.

But as young and childish as I am I am also very wise. I am wise beyond my years, I've seen things people my age shouldn't see, shouldn't experience. I am the shoulder to cry on, just as much as I am the one crying on the shoulder. I know about things, not worldly things, not history or money or business. But I know about life. I understand people. I guess part of it comes from being an actress. I like to unravel a story, understand.

But the thing I am the most, above childish, above immature, above grown up, above wise, above anything, is naive.

I live by the belief that I've had enough crappy dates, enough cheating boys, enough lies, enough pain, enough heartache. I believe that maybe it is finally my turn. To love, to laugh, to dance, to be happy. To be safe and secure, to be loved in return. I listen to love songs and await the day they belong to me. Because one day they will.

How very naive of me.

So I set myself up for more pain, for more heartache, for more boys who are truly unworthy of me. But I'd rather do that than be alone. You have to fight for what you believe in, and I believe in this. I believe that one day I will find my Prince Charming. That I will be happy, and loved, and safe and secure.

On a Monday, I am waiting
Tuesday, I am fading
And by Wednesday, I can't sleep
Then the phone rings, I hear you
And the darkness is a clear view
Cause you've come to rescue me

Fall... With you, I fall so fast
I can hardly catch my breath, I hope it lasts

Tuesday, 2 March 2010

grr arg!

So he leaves a rose on my bag in the staff room and comes to my till just to offer me a sweet, then he leaves it a while before apologising if the rose scared me a little and asks me for a drink, or maybe a meal.
And he seems kinda shy around me, like he's unsure how to approach me, like he's just not very good with women. So I say okay, give him my number.. Then he sends me a text which scares the living b'jesus out of me!
A first text should consist of 'hi how you doing, this is my number.' not how you're feeling, when you're working, when am i working, when am i free, what do i fancy doing and then your name. Good lord!
Then come the drunk texts. 'you out tonight.' fair enough but no I'm not. I'm ill in bed. 'are you up for it.' 'i lkie you.' 'i think you'd enjoy it' and finally two hours after i didn't reply 'sorry i was horny. night night.'
All i can say is GRR and mother f***in ARGGGG!!!!

What happened to the days when people liked you for you, not your body, not whats under your clothes or what you might be willing to give away for the price of a drink. What happened to being respected and polite and not bombarding a girl with texts the moment you get her number. When did 'sorry i was drunk' become an acceptable excuse?

I once got told 'drunk mans words are sober mans thoughts' if this is true then we are all doomed!