Thursday, 24 November 2011

Thanksgiving: Friends ♥

I know she's kind of socially retarded and weird, but she's my friend... - Regina George

Somewhere across the waters, it's Thanksgiving, and we're all supposed to be grateful for this pile of shit called life. It's hard to be grateful for a lot when you have a face like this, but one thing I can honestly hand on heart say I am grateful for, is good friends. It's taken me about 15 years to be able to pluralise the word, so now I can honour my friends through this beautiful tribute blog, as I tell you:


The ability to talk about poo.
We could go through all the hardships of the world together, we could battle aliens, we could help Pooh out of Rabbit's hole (please don't be dirty), we could defeat the dark lord Sauron/Voldemort, but if at the end of the day, I can't turn to you and say: 'I just had the best hangover poop', we're nothing.

Someone who tells me if I have food on my teeth/mouth/chin/eyebrows.
True friendship is getting beyond the awkward stage where you stare at that bit of kielbasa in your buddy's mouth and don't say a word. True friendship is where you say, 'Dude, you minger, here's some floss'. 

The ability to quote Mean Girls/Pretty Woman/Bridget Jones' Diary. 
I never treated you like a prostitute.
You just did. 

A fully formed woman. 
There's nothing like a full and rich bosom to cry in when you fail your essays/break a nail/finish watching a particularly sad episode of Scrubs. 32As need not apply. 

Someone who calls me a dick.
Let's face it, we're all dicks, and your bezzie mate has the ability to turn to you and say 'shut the fuck up', for your own good. 

Someone to share Sat Fats with.
I am not talking 'oh babe, let's have a cookie and a glass of wine whilst we watch The Notebook', I'm talking lets eat 68 bags of crisps, some raw cake mixture, and gummy sweets that look like pizzas whilst we go on Chatroulette and laugh at penises. 

Sing-a-long Sally. 
There's no better feeling in the world than cruising with your friends singing at the top of your voices to Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah whilst weeping hysterically as you drive past your ex-boyfriend and all of his mates. 

Someone with good oral hygiene. 
I don't want no mate with bad breff.

Someone who doesn't notice there are only nine reasons written here, and this one is one of them even though it's not really a reason at all. 

This blog is dedicated to Charlotte Anna-Marie Kristiana Hodgson, pretty much the best fucking girl in the world (except Hilary Clinton). 


  1. Awww thanks babe

    1. waiiit a minute, I only have 1 friend, but there are 2 comments. This does not add up.