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So I'm not so much typing this blog entry as much as I'm mashing the keys to my MacBook with pudgy, mincemeat-filled shovels of fingers and hoping for the best. I can't even cross the fat sausages for good luck. Not unaided.  The whole snow-on-the-ground thing meant December was officially a No Running Month, and I have successfully eaten the cupboards bare here at mum and dad's- and I've only been here ten days. In fact, not long after I arrived Mama asked Dad to pick up a few bits on his way back from the pub the golf course giving mincemeat penis' to strangers wherever he was going. "But we've got loads in," said Dad. Mama looked at him. "That was before Laura had breakfast," she replied. It's alright for her. She's so bloody skinny that she barely has one chin, let alone my six. I've taken to calling her a fat bitch as a sort of passive-aggressive coping mechanism. As in, "Could you get me a glass of water and a co...

If I have said this once over the past five days then I've said it 22,067 times. Oh! Hold on! Dad just farted as he opened the back door to let out the dog. He thinks that means we haven't heard. 22,068. And counting. I was absolutely, categorically, 100% intending to have the month of December sort of trickle off into a quiet Christmas, proudly without angst or worry about the apparent lack of direction I currently seem to have in my life AT ALL. I've had no deadlines and no obligations to end the year, not really, and so I was absolutely, categorically, 100% going to buckle down, stay out of the cold, and try and get a head start on 2011. I was absolutely, categorically, 100% not just going to lay in bed and rent movies from iTunes (IT'S JUST TOO EASY) and I was absolutely, categorically, 100% not just going to piss off to mum and dad's and start the Christmas holiday ten days early. Absolutely. But you see, The House of Pastelle just got so quiet . And it has be...

*a possible contender for the name of my first novel. It was only a matter of time before I ran back into the bosom of Mum and Dad for a weekend. I needed love. I needed affection. I needed looking after. And I needed what I think is referred to as out-and-out piss-taking to remind me that NUH-UH. I AINT ALL THAT, GIRLFRIEND . And that was just my father. Speaking of whom. I walked into the kitchen to him making mince pies. That was exciting because his pastry? Melt. In. Mouth. Good. He puts way too much booze into the mincemeat but hey- if you're not drunk and passed out on the sofa by noon at the Williams household you're probably the designated driver. Sucks to be you. So I walk into the kitchen and he screams, "CLOSE YOUR EYES!" which I of course absolutely ignore, almost like he hasn't spoken at all, and go and take a look at his treats. To his left were a tray of delicious mince pies, fresh out of the oven. To his right was a mincemeat penis. With engraved f...

It might be cold outside but WOW. This will totally get you hot! And I wonder why I'm single . We actually recorded this a few weeks ago and Calum threatened to divorce me if I didn't turn off my rented movies on iTunes, put down the Sainsbury's krispie bites and GET THE HELL OUTTA BED EVEN IF IT IS MINUS 76 OUTSIDE to finish cutting it. It's okay. I'm not bitter about the ensuing frostbite on my extremities. Health warning: you'll never get these 14 minutes back. And to think this is edited down from an hour. Powered by Podbean.com

Dear Kate, Congratulations on your recent engagement! How exciting for you that after nearly a decade of waiting you can finally slip William’s ring on your finger. (OH! WHAT YOU DO BEHIND CLOSED DOORS IS YOUR BUSINESS!) No, I’m being unfair, aren’t I? I think it is admirable that both you and William took your time to get engaged. As he rightfully pointed out it isn’t a race. A young couple who seriously consider the vows of marriage to be until death do us part is a prime example to set our generation where ‘I do’ often comes with an invisible parenthesise afterward that means (for now). (Because let's be honest, a lifetime of monogamy is a tough one. I struggle to be monogamous even for the afternoon and I KNOW girlfriend can relate to THAT. Word.) And much has been made of how your wedding will be a modern one . I salute you in dragging the royals into the 21 st century- you won't be only the only commoner at that wedding! How very NOW. (You’ll get double points if you c...