Wine goggles and a propensity for support undies

Posted 28 Apr

Prostitutes have got it right – getting paid for sex. Us singlies are totally going about sex in the wrong way, for starters the cash layout begins way before an actual date. First you've got all that preparation crap to try and pull a bloke, like damned foundation underwear. I prefer the all over body hugger which mean the rolls of fat from your bosom to your thighs are all subtly squished together to give an illusion of oneness. The only side effect being that your bosom is now giving you a double chin and your kneecaps look like they've been the healthy recipient of left over liposuction fat.

The there's the ton of make up that would make a cabin crew member recoil in horror and that's just the male ones and of course the countless amounts of furtive phone calls in toilets to ring your coupled up mates for advice on how to pull. This is a pointless exercise as these guys have been shacked up together for years and the last thing they pulled is a lower leg ligament trying to fill Mr Tiddles' litter tray.

Then when you do get a date the process just continues from there…out goes the support underwear and in come the frillies, all wires, balconies and blatant lies…not so much enhancing cleavage as creating.

Then you have to go with his choice of film, cause everything you've ever read has told you that men like their women to be subservient and submissive. So you go and watch a horror film, where he believes you really must need your eyes tested as you seem to have spent the entire film studying your drinks container rather intently.

You have to pretend to laugh at all his jokes and pretend to want to go halves on the bills. Guys – we don't. We may be up for equal opportunities but that doesn't apply to paying for things, when it comes to this we're still complete tight wads.

Then you have to fib your way through the entire sex thing..'Oh you're so big, you're so amazing, I've never had anyone make me feel like this before'.

Finally you're left in the morning trying to think of excuses to get him out of your bed, house and as your wine goggles snap sharply back into place, probably your life.

So prostitute's have got it right - they've never had to fib their way through sex, remember their name or make them a cup of tea in the morning!

Jools, car, hedges and ditches

PROPER LIVE POST - AS IN THIS HAPPENED THIS MORNING!


Oh my lordy, I definitely win for the biggest DIV moment of the week.

*Yes indeedy, guess who ran her car into a verge/ditch this morning!

To be fair I did execute the movement pretty stylishly and the resulting parking (pic to follow) was actually pretty impressive. Although divviness was compounded by the fact that half of my work 'colleagues' drive the same route and were delighted at my use of 'hedge attack' tactics.

Jools - fine but whip lashed
Car (once recovered by 4 burly work colleagues - they were blokes before people get some smart arsed ideas) seems fine
Snails - 6 of the buggers relocated by high speed transportation
Hedge/ditch/verge - Oh dear!

Tea and sympathy please folks as my neck hurts to buggery.


*Yes it was totally my fault! I decided to overtake a slow arsed driver who unbeknownst to me at the time was overtaking a slow arsed cyclist; strangely enough country roads aren't really made to take 3 cars! Although to be fair I've always said the road need to be widened so I like to think I've helped out the council a little bit.

Brought to you by Jools is a Total Tit Inc, for all your mud relocation needs.

Wellies, wife swapping and kumquats

Posted 25 Apr

I love living in the country, land of tractors, wellies and wife swapping.
It's great - the local town hall puts on courses to keep us amused, including needlepoint, cow tipping for beginners and a little light BDSM.

No need to worry about the practicalities though, as Majorie from the WI will nip round to tidy up the equipment, offer half time refreshments and proceed to tell everyone in the post office queue about your special birth mark and what exactly you were trying to do with that kumquat.

The local college has decided not to be outdone and is offering the following courses: get to know your soil, pole dancing and empower your breasts – 'unleash your feminine identity with a well fitted bra'.

Do you know what? I couldn't really give a stuff about unleashing anything, as quite frankly my norks need to be bound to my chest by way of a straight jacket to ensure I don't knock people sideways. Who the bloody hell is bothered about a well fitting bra – it's always the first thing to come off! Via the armpit and employing advanced yoga techniques of course.

Seriously guys, you know when you have those 'special' lessons at school when the boys and girls are separated. We assume you're being told about the best wanking position and how to order a pimms without looking gay and you reckon we're learning all about periods and ladybits. Nope we're being taught the age old method of through the armpit bra removal followed by the 'get what you want through nagging' technique.

What am I like?????

Posted 23 Apr

I am so distracted at the moment it is seriously not true!

In the last week I've done the following:
Left conditioner on my hair
Had a bath with the sole intention of shaving my legs and promptly not shaved my legs, necessitating the need for a subsequent shower
Tried to lock my car using the office keys
Forgot to inform our MD that I'd arranged PA cover for him, resulting in a pissed of MD and a PA waiting for him outside a locked office

Seriously I don't know what's wrong with me at the moment (and no before you leap to conclusions I've not been hitting the bottle!).

I swear that the pink candy floss that inhabits my brain is involved in some sort of WWE smackdown with the sensible parts of my noggin. Currently pinning it to the floor, sitting on it's pathetically weedy chest shouting 'Yeh...you is my biatch now' as it desperately tries to escape out of one of my ear canals.

Bloody toilets again....(I'm obsessed, its official)

Posted 21 Apr

I think I smell of hamster piss and I don't own a hamster - this is not a good thing. Well unless you're a fit single bloke who likes the smell of hamster piss, which one would hope is fairly rare.

Also I got home last night to find that the loo seat was up. Some of you may be aware that I house share with a bloke, so this in itself is not an unusual (albeit bloody annoying) occurrence. However, as usual housemate had left the house before me and arrived back at the house after me. So I checked to se if he had returned home during the day, which was confirmed with a nope and accompanying quizzical (she's off her nut again) look.
So how the bloody hell did it manage to get itself into that position?

Do I now have a male ghost in my house who is determined to leave the loo seat up, piss all over the floor and jizz across my best catalogues?

Londinium calling

Posted 19 Apr

Yup, up in the smoke I was yesterday for a worky type thingy...anyhoo highlights of the day was seeing a nun on the back of one of those porter trolley things, being given a pig, a sponge and a tree (which had a pube in it), getting disgruntled looks from fellow tubers when my friend had a total 'blonde' moment involving Barney the dinosaur and spending the resulting 5 mins in fits of laughter oh and getting 'attached' to another lady on the tube. Resulting in the best stereo exclamation of 'Oo' I've heard in a long time.

Ed Byrne reckons the best way to communicate with other tubers is to use your ipod as an ice breaker. Sorry Ed you're wrong (and a flithy slutbucket to boot, but we won't go there) the best way, is to secretly lace your rucksack straps through someone else's and they try to go in opposite directions. Fabtastic fun for all in an overcrowded, hot and stuffy carriage!

I also had an incident with my cheek and pak choi juice - but I think we'll leave that right there! (Mind you at least I can identify pak choi and don't think its cabbage or similiar).

Oh and huge thanks to the myspacer who posed a serious question to me this week - I so seriously nearly wee'd (sic) myself, its actually quite worrying and has me searching for 'feminine aids'.

Cause I love disappointing boys (lapdancing) & podcast?

Posted 17 Apr

Ok for me male readership...as promised lapdancing with only the kind of spin Jools can put on it!

I've come to the conclusion that lap dancing must've originated in comedy clubs or dinner theatre venues. Comedy clubs are not the natural habitat for the normally reserved English classes. We're quite good at the queuing, I'll give you that, but then we find ourselves doing the seat shuffle all night cause no one wants to take the 'firing line' seat at the front. There should be some sort of points or drinks system for these kind of gigs.

Firstly, the poor late bastard who does end up in the firing line should get a huge round of applause and free drinks all night for sheer bravery. The rest of us, whilst waiting for the latecomer to arrive will have to satisfy ourselves with musical chairs. Ensuring that at no point does any part of our body make contact with any strangers, even if this means someone's going to have to read the rules of twister before they can extract us from our seats.

We could attempt the newest fitness craze for the over 30'er – the bar obstacle course, as you once again struggle to the bar ensuring you make no physical contact with another human, resulting in a rather strange interpretive dance which has you alternating between the moves to YMCA, Saturday Night Fever and attempting to limbo under a barman's legs. (Hey it passes for modern dance in some arts fesitvals you know).

You get to take a drink of beer or wine if you make it to the bar and back, if you make it to the loo's and back then you get to drink a shot and if you manage to do both without landing in someone else's lap or standing on someone's foot then you have to down all your drinks.

*personally I think there should also be a high scoring round if you manage to get a comedian to give you a 'terrified' look - but maybe that's just me? ;)

**Ooh podcats? For those that missed/ignored *ahem* the bulletin, I used to do podcasts, then I didn't, the sun's been out so maybe I'll do another one again. Do you want IT? You might even get a namecheck (woo hoo infamy at last - not necesairly a good thing, people start calling you slut and all sorts).

Minty pacers to all of ya!

Sorry my music choice just said 'nothing I can say when I'm in your thighs'! Funkeeehhhh

and she's off about toilets, again....

Posted 14 Apr

Carrying on from toilet tardis I thought I better just continue with my education of the men folk and explain in a little more depth about what women actually get up to in the toilets.

First picture the scene:

You're in a trendy nightclub surrounded by gorgeous females (trust me on this, they're all gorgeous cause you've just downed 8 pints of lager), anyway you spot that all the women are making 'evil eyes' at each other as they boogle themselves into oblivion. Invariably at some point in the evening 2 or more of them will make the difficult ascent towards the loos.

Once within the safe toilety haven a complete metamorphosis occurs:

First, most of the glaring ceases as women drape themselves casually against a wall, sink or willing victim

Then we strike up a conversation with anyone who'll listen, which normally consists of:

Gawd there's always a damn queue isn't there
Ooh I like your top, where'd you get it
And ooh what's that bint over there having a rant about?

This continues until we make it into a cubicle, upon which we discover one or all of the following:

No loo roll
Broken lock
No loo seat
Floor that resembles Lake Michigan

At this point we hover over the loo seat, precariously perched with a foot on the door, as we holler out 'anyone got any loo roll?'. Dependent on the floor in question this is either passed under the loos (this is the usual etiquette) upon which we comment on our cubicle buddy's shoes, or occasionally we opt for the overhead lob.

The broken door dilemma is just one of the reasons we take our mates with us. Similar to meerkats we operate a 'look out' system, where a mate is placed outside the door to act as a door stop and also to protect us from any would be predators *see previous comment about ranting bints.

Of course posher toilets never have all of these problems, but I've yet to find one that doesn't suffer from one of them. The problem with posher loos is that they put the toilet further away from the door, which is a logistical nightmare if you are sans friend. Imagine if you will a woman try to invoke a < shape whilst directing her pee backwards. Near on impossible to emerge without looking like a tie dyed hippy.

Total Tit - Dramatic encore

Posted 14 Apr

Advice for not making a total tit of yourself – part 3 (or whatever – I've lost count there's so many).

Tis not advisable to go on a German school exchange as an impressionable 15 year old and embarrass yourself in ways that you will still recall when you're in your 30's.

Such as dumping your boyfriend and letting your greedy German pen pal get her mitts into him, thus spending the entire trip scowling at people (which indeed helps with the goth look you've recently adopted, but helps with little else). Wailing at anyone who will listen and drinking way too much beer (which you don't like anyway) and spectacularly fall out of a tree house in a drunken stupor.

It's also not advisable to wake up in a German household with a monster of a hangover, especially when your pen pal's, 3 older and cuter brothers have all dropped by to say Hi and are proffering plates of cheese and ham.

Finally it really isn't a good idea to agree to go swimming whilst still nursing a hangover and not knowing the German for either 'paracetamol' or 'kill me now' and subsequently throwing your guts up into the nearest bin in the pool reception.

This is not a good way to improve British/German relations – for pity's sake they lost the war, they don't really need some British bint barfing into a bin.

*Unfortunately by no means the last in the Jools is a Total tit series

Enhanced drunken jim jams it is then

Posted 13 Apr

OK, so just for my lovely subscribers, I bring you drunken jim jams (you are all going to be SOOO disappointed now as I rather feel we pimped it up a bit too much)

Is it ALWAYS wrong to be in your 30's and still drink an entire bottle of lemon schnapps and throw up down your jim jams?
Cause we never wear anything but jim jams now. They suddenly become the uniform of choice for the semi alcoholic 30 year old. Gone are they days of throwing up in the gutter, on someone else, or down your best batwing fluorescent jumper, nope hit your 30's and you just don't go outside any more. Quite frankly, what's the point you're only going to be harassed by hoodied youffs shouting obscenities about your zimmer frame and all the drinks are bloody expensive. Why go to the expense of going out and buying a jack daniels and coke when you can buy a bottle of Liebfraumilch for a fiver and stay in watching Top Gear.

And what about the serving suggestions they put on bottles of wine. I don't mean the serving suggestions ' this goes nice with chicken or fish' those sorts of one, cause lets face it all we really want is one that says goes very well with kebabs, but I think the lager industry has cornered the market on that one.

No I mean the size servings they suggest. On a standard bottle of wine they reckon you can get 6 glasses out of it. 6! 6! – What sort of Lilliputian fantasy world are these guys living in? I don't know about you but I'm lucky if I get 3 glasses out of a bottle and to be fair I'm lucky if the wine even makes it into a glass.

Now they've also come up with wine stoppers, you know to 'store' your wine so it doesn't go off! Christ that's never going to happen, my white wine is lucky if it even sees the fridge before its consumed. I don't have a cellar, why the fuck would I need a device to store wine.



Of course the problem with living on your own is you have no guage of how drunk you actually are. Yes you've got a ready meal for 1 and the cats for company but that's about it.

Stairs do help with establishing the level of drunkenness but if you live in a studio flat or a bungalow you're totally bollocked. You tend to be ok until you attempt to go for a piss and then suddenly the sofa seems to be a very long way from the floor. Of course its not at this point that your body goes into puke spasms..oh no its at 3 am, you've been asleep for a couple of hours when your body suddenly jerks you awake and you realise that
a) you've drunk an entire bottle of walnut liquer and you have a intolerance to nuts,
b) you're spreadeagled like a beslippered starfish across your rather cold and hard laminate flooring and
c) you're really not going to make it to the loo or even sink in time to chuck up last night's kebab.

And really puke is bloody difficult to get out of flannelette. Maybe that's what we need for the next series of the 'You've got a crap idea' or Dragon's Den or whatever it's called – the first set of puke resistant pyjamas.