YUup
Too mcuh
drinking more
SHOTS
mmmmm
buttershots
mmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
haha
i love you too BFF and i miss you when u were gone for so long and its been there for months.
my heart is happy too. I LOVE YOU BFF!!

my friend said some lovely things to me on friday night (along with some not so lovely - but that's because she cares!) ... she also told me that her brother would still (to quote) 'f*** me'.  ha ha ... bless.  i fancy the pants off him, always have done ever since i photographed him a couple of years ago.  however, i AM a married woman and i do love my husband.  harmless flirting is good - although that doesn't happen much now as m comes to some of the gigs.  i also know that this guy tends to f*** anything that moves so really, it isn't THAT much of a compliment is it? ha ha

b emailed me this about writing this blog:

"I guess if it helps you get your feelings and there and feel better by processing it all, then its a good thing, so soak it up!  Make time for as much posative activity as you can.  MAKE the time, don't get swept up in the crap too much.  Keep an active handle on it and remember that you have control!"

i've found that by writing this, i'm more inclined to find the good in my life rather than wallow in the bad.  things ended at work on friday on a positive note.  i had a meeting with the head and she told me that they want me to work on the school's magazine to parents, redesigning and editing it.  she's also interested in getting me to redesign the website - if it's cheaper to pay me and train me rather than pay a company.  i would love to do that.  that means i'd only be teaching 3 days a week and not have to do cover for a day (which can be exhausting).

i met my year 7 class (who i'll have for 4 weeks until they sort out the groupings).  they were actually really sweet (apart from two of them, who were as annoying as hell) - and yet again, i had the 'black and white' question.

"when the world was in black and white did they used to ..."

"sorry? 'when the world was in black and white?' "

"yeah, when everything was black and white"

"that was only on tv, the world didn't miraculously turn into colour"

"oh ..."

a boy in my tutor group (who are YEAR 11!?!?!?!) asked me about the world when it was in black and white last year.

astounds me.  but is also quite sweet, in a way!

I've now got to go and remark some SATS papers to see if we can raise our results (joy):

GOOD THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED SINCE FRIDAY:

- getting confidence boosts on Friday night

- ;)

- being given 'non-teaching' tasks

- hearing from B

- actually managing to go out all night, get drunk but NOT forgetting my umbrella (ella ella ella eh eh eh)

- getting lifts into work two days running and therefore avoiding the rain :)

There is not a shred of Biblical evidence in this video. What he does take from the Bible is twisted and contorted into what Brandon wants it to be. He first cites Acts 2, where the disciples received the Holy Spirit and were regarded by mockers to be as drunk men.

I wanted to first examine the allegation that Peter and his fellow preachers were drunk in some form. Here's the text in question:

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly there came from heaven a noise like a violent rushing wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting. And there appeared to them tongues as of fire distributing themselves, and they rested on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit was giving them utterance.

Now there were Jews living in Jerusalem, devout men from every nation under heaven. And when this sound occurred, the crowd came together, and were bewildered because each one of them was hearing them speak in his own language. They were amazed and astonished, saying, "Why, are not all these who are speaking Galileans? "And how is it that we each hear them in our own language to which we were born? "Parthians and Medes and Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the districts of Libya around Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs--we hear them in our own tongues speaking of the mighty deeds of God." And they all continued in amazement and great perplexity, saying to one another, "What does this mean?"

But others were mocking and saying, "They are full of sweet wine."

(Acts 2:1-13, NASB)

In his video, Brandon uses this text to justify being "drunk on the glory". Critical problems arise with this interpretation, however. First, Peter and the other disciples were not exhibiting drunken behavior. Just the opposite, in fact. Very soberly and clearly, they preached the Gospel and three thousand were converted that day (Acts 2:41). Furthermore, each recipient heard all the preaching in his or her own language, not the nonsensical and slurred ramblings of drunk men. Contrast the perspicuity of one of the longest sermons in Scripture (Acts 2:14-36) with the drunken behavior exemplified in the video below:

This video represents what it means to be "whacked". Whacked indeed. Is this the sad state that Brandon Barthrop advocates us being in? Is this what he suggests Peter and the others were behaving like? Does he truly believe that unless a believer acts like this, they aren't saved? It would appear so.

Besides the fact that there is no evidence that Peter and the other disciples were preaching in a drunken stupor, another problem comes about when attempting to use Acts 2 to justify acting drunkenly in the name of worship. The issue lies in that Peter did not describe himself as being drunk, but rather those who were mocking the work of Christ did. Revilers during the speech on the Day of Pentecost were attempting to publicly discredit the disciples by accusing them of being "full of sweet wine" (Acts 2:13). It was slanderous and intended to drive those listening away. The disciples did not claim it for themselves. Furthermore, Peter afterward addresses the mockers and refutes their claim that the Holy Spirit filled believers were drunk (Acts 2:15).

Even so, a litany of other verses instruct that the believer is to conduct him or herself in an orderly and sober fashion. One such verse, Ephesians 5:18, clearly prohibits drunkenness. Paul does not advocate drunken behavior while being "filled with the Spirit". In verse 19, he further explains what he meant: "...speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody with your heart to the Lord; always giving thanks for all things in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God, even the Father; and be subject to one another in the fear of Christ." In no way is there any indication that being filled with the Spirit means acting like you're hammered.

The second proof-text Brandon offers is Isaiah 29:9: "Be delayed and wait, blind yourselves and be blind; they become drunk, but not with wine, they stagger, but not with strong drink" (NASB). Brandon's use of this verse is among the worst scripture-twisting I have ever run across. The prophet here is not referring to being drunk in the Spirit. He is talking about the spiritual blindness of the people of Israel. Their figurative blindness and drunkenness were judgments from God because they had not trusted Him and instead turned to religious harlotry.

The other referenced verse from Isaiah is from chapter 51. Verse 21 reads: "Therefore, please hear this, you afflicted, who are drunk, but not with wine...". This proof-text is actually even more twisted than the last. Here's the verse in proper context:

I have put My words in your mouth and have covered you with the shadow of My hand, to establish the heavens, to found the earth, and to say to Zion, "You are My people."

Rouse yourself! Rouse yourself! Arise, O Jerusalem, you who have drunk from the LORD'S hand the cup of His anger; the chalice of reeling you have drained to the dregs.

There is none to guide her among all the sons she has borne, nor is there one to take her by the hand among all the sons she has reared.

These two things have befallen you; who will mourn for you? The devastation and destruction, famine and sword; how shall I comfort you?

Your sons have fainted, they lie helpless at the head of every street, like an antelope in a net, full of the wrath of the LORD, the rebuke of your God.

Therefore, please hear this, you afflicted, who are drunk, but not with wine: Thus says your Lord, the LORD, even your God who contends for His people, "Behold, I have taken out of your hand the cup of reeling, the chalice of My anger; you will never drink it again."

"I will put it into the hand of your tormentors, who have said to you, 'Lie down that we may walk over you.' You have even made your back like the ground and like the street for those who walk over it."

(Isaiah 51:16-23, NASB)

In honestly viewing this text, does the prophet Isaiah mention even the slightest reference to anything resembling being "drunk on the glory"? Absolutely not! The only thing Israel is drunk off of is God's wrath! That is what is being framed here. Not a single reference so some kind of drunken and sinful form of worship exists. And no doubt Brandon knows this.

How is it that Brandon can be this wrong? The only two options are that he is either incredibly deceived or being duplicitous himself. Both would qualify this man for a public marking and separation from the Body of Christ.

If someone would tell me
that forty like fourteen
are still overwhelming,
exciting and naughty
and people still maybe
twined-twisted like one
kiss off... that could save me
where nothing else can.

Most dreadful dream that I ever seen:
I meet you again in about fifteen
I run to you, and I yell like mad,
and I kiss your lips, but your lips are shut.

Your kiss is like rude
rusty metal thread
once you've kissed me you should
only leave me dead
wrap it up round your hands
and my neck, and pull
do be honest once
play by killers rule.

..alas, I can only get drunk and wait,
and in years like in acid to dissipate.

You're soon forty in about thirty
we should get sober, balanced and sporty
do not despond, correspond and obtain
final indulging release from that pain,
so long, do you hear? so long, do you hear?
so long, so long, so long, do you hear?
so long, so long, so long, do you hear?
and don't you dare
to kiss me again.

(original)

Peace!

So, we're drunk by 10, and I have 2 full-on conversations with the matron (and I hugged her). Katelin busts out the phone and starts texting Irish Jamey:

(typical).
A Marv-pseudo keeps trying to hit on me.
We take the following picture and rave over how good it is:

Is it actually good when sober? No.

We then bop around to some honky tonks and I keep telling Katelin we have to go to the Red Iguana. Which doesn't even exist anymore. *wah wah*

We run into Big Cheese (don't worry - there we no couches in sight) and I drunkenly rave to him and Katelin about how he and I are doing a class project together. We bop into Coyote Ugly next, because it was right there, not that I really wanted to go. Some ugly ass guys start tagging along and I feel no need to be nice to them. I keep my distance and then one of the security guys offers me a cigarette and I chat with him for a bit. He kind of looked like a monkey. Not as much as Jerry Revish, though ... or The Monkey at Belmont.

We then somehow make it to Jack in the Box. Where the drunk dials start. I talked to Danny Kelly for 10 minutes. About what, I don't know. I remember talking about Fed Ex, though... Then there was GE. (Who I asked to sing me Night Moves next time I saw him - lol) And The Vatty Daddy. And SCJ. And David White (HA!). Oh... and Crazy James from Big Brother........

Back at Belmont, we stuff our faces with hamburgers and egg rolls ("They forgot our sweet and sour sauce!" "Oh, there's some chinky sauce in the fridge." "Toasted sesame?") and watched MTV's Busted.... why? Who watches that? Us, apparently.

So, basically, a night that wasn't funny to anyone else, unless you happen to be a Summer Haus Girl :)

Skeletons much, bitch?

The drama we all loved for years has been canceled. "The Clintons" will no longer be seen on this channel so that we may bring you the never-ending escapades of America's newest white-trash political family, "The Palins"— Teenage Pregnancy! Drunk Kids on the Loose! Naked Pictures! Mad Affairs! Rednecks Aplenty! The Trailer Park's Never Been So Much Fun!

Josefin och Sinem

Amanda, jag och min hatt.

Jag, min hatt, Amanda och Sinem

Jag, min hatt, min cigg och Martin.

Och sist men inte minst, jag och min man!

Last night tillbringades på Berså, ovanligt. Egentligen var det hela spontant, våra planer var att ta ett glas vin och bara ta det lugnt. Men det blev visst tvärtom, alla blev dyngraka och idag är alla bakfulla. Våra riktiga planer idag var ju att dra en RIKTIG utgång. Det återstår att se vad som händer ikväll, jag hade inte tackat nej till en hemmakväll. Kan knappt komma ihåg senast jag tog det lugnt.

I woke up yesterday at around 11:30 am... called the guy who works at the commercial hotel in milton(ulladulla).. he said to come in that night... so i then proceeded in driving my car to ulladulla to visit my parents... 2 hours after ariving all of a sudden i'm standing behind a bar in ulladulla staring at about 100 drunken losers trying to serve them drinks while mashiing the keypad on the cash register and charging alll the wrong prices.... i guess i still kind of got the hang of it.

Today i awoke at about 10:30... had a shower... came downstairs and said hello to my family and then started drinking.. its been pretty fun

i only just realised that the un-imagionable thing ... the most dreaded thing has happened

we're out of alcohol

it sucks... i'm trying to wok up the courage to ask dad to open the bottle of canadian club that i bought him for fathers day...
i'll tell you what also rules... my dad is sitting behind me... and right now, we are listening to fletwood mac on vinyl. so that rules.

dad is sitting behind me on the couch, talking absolute smackkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. but it rules.. actually he just left and said goodnight.

hmmm... ok.

time to begin my rant... or just my... conversaion/message

to you.

i'm sorry that this is all spaced and liike... not in ordr, or even just because i suck at typing when im drunk.

start now,
                  ok... daniellectric shock,
                                                         my name is jake, you know me, because i lived with you for a fairly long time. I want to take these next few hours/ use these next few hours, as an opportunity to say what i want to say.
I understand that i am pretty intoxicated, but i hope that you can see past that.
Last time i did this, i poseted on this thingggg, i kind of... didn't make sense....
If you didnt already realise... there was a kind of hidden message amongst the horrible in-coherent/un-readable words.
You probably realised, therefore i wont repeat anything that i think i remember.

stage 2...

ok so im still wasted, i realised, im actually just typing my heart out as if i was in a law firm or in some sort of secretarial job doing data entry/typing down everything somesone says/i think... you know???????????????

what do i do now.

i've got that feeling.
help? ................................................................................................ how do i describe it... and how do ipretend you havent heard it a thousand times...
whats it called. I dont know, i forget.

But i know i'm the person who stays up all night.
/slash/ stays awake... all day/ slash / forgets everything i think i knew... i dont know.

But how do i stop that placebo feeling of thinking i get a message every 2 seconds... maybe not that much..
Bt i mean... i wake up every 5 minutes of every night or every day i check my phone... its horrible..
I only do it because for some reason my brain thinks that i'm getting a message off someone... and off a certain person most of the time. So i just try to ignore it, but the more i do the ... oh what ever.

anxiety sucks
It kills me. But what do i say. And do they even care..
FUCKFUCKFUCK
I regret EVERYTHING i say because i feel like i've said something wrong.
or said too much.
or not enough...
And i lose sleep and i lose my apetite and i cant find words.

I go over everything i've just mentioned, every 5 minutes of every day.. and somehow i'm still here.

sorry. that just seemed to roll off my tongue. i think i need some canadian club.

What else can i say... i'm not done yet.
Lets jump back a few years... lets say ...
2004....
It all started, when i was a wee young hobbit..

Actually i wasnt, i was just a boring idiot failing at school.
I remember wearing rufio shirts and thursday shirts, wishing i was cooler.
My amazingly amazing band was totally killing it.............................................................
In previous years we had played shows with kid corageous and... well that was about our biggest achievement..
www.mp3.com.au/screwloose
Finished that year then got kicked out of school...
Next year went out with ria... played in a lame metal band and listened to norma jean... lasted about 5 months before i realised it was boring.

Next... this is probably 06 now.... homewrecker... it got boring... blah blah blah....... what the fuck am i doing and who am i talking to.

Daniellectric, i know you're the only human who reads this. so i should probably stop..... and i know this one isnt as exciting as the last one.....
But incase you didnt realise, my last drunk post... well the one with you tagged in the tags.... that one kiiiiiiiiiiiind of had a secret message encrypted into its un-decryptable encryptions........ you probably saw... also, its probably no different to this annoying horrrible long rannnnnnnnnnnt.
I think i already said this.

WHATY THE FUCKKKKKKKKK AM I DOING

START AGAIN

DEAR you.

                ,    I know i always bring up the option of hanging out/passing out to rocky vinyls. And i also realise, and totally understand, the fact that you politely listen and kindly disregard.
Aand i also understand that maybe its just that i'm drunk.  or maybe its because i'm actually an idiot.

i realised today, that in fact i was born a kitten.....

i am a kitten.
meow meow. prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. pdrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

what is uppppppppppppppppppppppppppp, i ate strawberries, that were previously dipped in chocolate, and the chocolate was all hard... i ate them with ice cream.. thaks to mumma kitten.

I think i've covered more than enough in this blog, i cant remember what i wrote befor this line, apart from the strawberries thing because that was only 10 seconds ago.

in the end... i ask myself....
What do i want, and why do i do this..... fuckjlkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkl
I do way too many dot dot dots

what am i doing...
i mean, you were in my dream last night, in the dream you moved to america and it was the worst day of my life.
But getting back to it... what ?

I just want to sit on a couch together in a cramped studio apartment watching vampire movies listening to good music, staring blankly... drinking fruity wine potions, talking about elves... trying our best to cast spells....
what more could i ask for.
Especially when its with someone who i consider a best friend/ best actual person i've ever met.

The end.

sincerely me.

P.S... if you can make any sense of the order/layout of this message, i will pay you $90475097098790457908794236598756893569657856

Wednesday - Day 1.)

Desperate for a job, I print out 3 CV's (that's British for Resume) and take them up to the closest high street to my flat.  I hand out the first two, and continue down the street to the outside of Molly's bar, which has caught my eye numerous times on the bus rides home from Jane's.

There is a little Irish woman sweeping up and dumping ash trays outside the bar.  

"Excuse me?" I say.  "Do you know i they're hiring?"

"Yes," she says, appraising me.  "Do you have experience?"

"Yes, a bit, I worked at a--"

"Can you come in at ten for a trial?"

"Um, sure."

The little Irish woman then eyes the conservative attire I've donned for my High Street CV Hand out, which includes a skirt that falls below the knee, tights, boots, and a tank top and a sweater.  

"Wear whatever ye like," she says, letting me know that I can relax a little when I dress for work tonight.  "I'm Molly."

"Oh, like the ..." I said, motioning to the sign.

So, I show up, she trains me, etc.  And we close.  

After close, she offers me a drink, which I'm assuming is a special occasion since it's my first night and we're discussing my prospects as an event coordinator.  I end up in the bar until after 6 in the morning, drinking with Molly and listening to incredibly intimate details about her personal life, both kind of enjoying myself, and wondering when it will be appropriate to leave.

She calls us a cab around sunrise and drops me off at my place, asking that I text her as soon as I'm home.  I do.

Thursday - Day 2.)

The incident with Sam(?)

Friday - Day 3.)

Exhausted, I come in and am given full control of the bar downstairs, which only stays open for a few hours due to the dismal amount of people who show up for the live band performing.  I come upstairs, worried that I may have to face Sam(?) again, or that he's perhaps told his boss about what happened. 

I become overly lethargic and disoriented as the night progresses.  Molly notices and offers me a bit of cocaine.  "Just put it on your tongue," she says, "don't go putting anything up your nose."

"Um, thanks, but can I just have a red bull instead?"

As soon as we close, I duck out of there, clearly slightly offending Molly in the process.  

I get to my night bus stop and try to keep my head down from this Romanian asshole and his friend who are hissing at and calling things to any female who walks past.

The Romanian eventually sidles up to me and attempts to start a conversation.  I ask him to leave me alone, and after about six demands as to why, I finally tell him that anyone who thinks it's funny or entertaining to make women who are trying to make their way home feel unsafe and harassed can't be my friend.

Romanian then blames it on his English friend, who says he had no part in it, and agrees that I have a point.  English friend then turns to me and asks why all Americans have such an attitude.

I respond that my attitude has little do with my nationality and more to do with the fact that I've been on my feet for several hours.  He becomes very thoughtful and then asks me, in a quite friendly tone, if I'm taking a gap year.  

Speechless at the bizarrity of this, the Turkish guy who owns the restaurant across the street pulls to the curb and offers me a ride.  Realizing that this is probably the safer of the two options, I jump into his car, hoping he doesn't intend to rape, kill, and taxiderm me.  

I am driven home without incident.

Saturday - Day 4.)

Night progresses as usual until about 1:30am, at which point, Molly's husband of 15 years, whom she's currently divorcing, comes in drunk.  She asks him to leave, and furious, he comes behind the bar shouting, "GET OUT?  GET OUT?  IS THAT WHAT YOU SAY TO ME? GET OUT?"

She shoves him, and he backhands her, hard, into glass and bottles of wine and beer, which shatter.  She finally manages to get him out, and shaking, sits down.  I give her a giant glass of Jameson, and clean up with the assistance of this poor Irish bloke who'd just come in for a quiet drink with his cousin, but seemed to have compassion for the situation.

After closing down, I sit down with Irish guy and his cousin and Molly and have a shot of tequila to calm my nerves.  Suddenly, a loud bang comes from outside.  Seems Molly's husband has come back and is trying to break in through the (glass) door with a chair from outside.

Molly calls the police, and I retreat downstairs, because I'm a bit nervous that he may get in.  Irish guy comes with me, gets drunk, and starts ranting about Oliver Cromwell (?).  He seems nice enough, but clearly very in love with his girlfriend (which is refreshing).

I come back upstairs where we're joined by Molly's bff, the beautiful but slightly crazy Gemma, and her boytoy of the week.  They, along with Irish guy's cousin, are loudly singing Irish ballads and dancing about.  Molly calls me a cab.  I get home just as the sun rises (again).

Thursday - Day 5.)

So, I've had about four days off to recover, which was pretty necessary, all things considered.  I go back in refreshed and ready to get some things done in preparation for my cinema night.  

Molly is drunk.  Sooooo drunk.

There's another barmaid there, off the clock, who is pregnant, but smoking and drinking Merlot (but only Merlot that's been open today, don't want to chance anything, wtf) and the music coordinator.  Both slowly help take over as Molly spirals into complete oblivion.

Molly goes to walk downstairs toward the end of the night.  She trips, and falls down an entire flight of stone steps, crashing at the bottom.  Because she's drunk, she pulls herself up, claims to be fine, and falls asleep on one of the couches.  

The staff decides not to call an ambulance for her (though the next day, we'll find out she broke her shoulder and three ribs).  

Closing goes smoothly because Molly isn't there pressuring me to drink.  Pregnant Barmaid offers me a glass of her merlot, and I accept, running across the street first to buy myself two jam donuts and to get Pregnant Barmaid some ciggies.

I decide to walk home, since the bus never seems to come.

But when Elton John and Lily Allen got up on stage to host a prestigious awards ceremony, no one predicted quite such fireworks.

The pair began quarelling in front of a shocked celebrity crowd when Miss Allen became drunken and dishevelled after gulping down champagne as the pair handed out awards.
.
Miss Allen, the daughter of actor Keith Allen, already looked well-refreshed by the time the GQ Men of the Year Awards began at London's Royal Opera House on Tuesday evening.

The 23-year-old, decked out in an extravagant Dolce and Gabbana ballgown and Chopard jewellery, soon began slurring, swearing and ad-libbing.

And when she introduced Carol Vorderman to the stage with a verbal tirade, saying 'F***' no fewer than five times in the same sentence, her co-host decided enough was enough.

When Miss Allen came to announce '...and now the most important part of the night', Elton chipped in 'What? Are you going to have another drink?'

She fired back: 'F*** off Elton. I am 40 years younger than you and have my whole life ahead of me!'

The shocked audience fell silent.

A clearly rattled Elton replied 'I could still snort you under the table'.

Read the rest and see the pictures....
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1051912/I-
snort-table-Eltons-shocking-reply-worse-wear-Lily-
verbally-assaults-onstage.html

So what do those whining bitches at the GOP have in return? Obama's stage sucked!

This from a group of people who can't even tell the difference between Walter Reed Hospital and a Junoir High School.

Here's their weak-ass ad. Watch once, puke, repeat.

Then, your outside in the very fresh air, and your lady friend has been refused entry to every venue. Its cold, foggy, your tired and your mate wants to go home. She however wants to demonstrate how drunk she is. Here was an example of gentlemanly behaviour from some of our youth who were obviously just trying to go home. Bloke 1 gets her a bottle of water and says you need to get hydrated or you will be sick. Bloke 2 takes her handbag (a very uncool thing for any guy to do, let alone youth) and tries to steady her. They both offer her respectable assistance and she is obviously a close friend to them. In her drunken stupor she reacts by taking her jacket off and attempting to reveal her upper torso. The gentlemen quickly reattach the apparel and try to shuffle her away to a taxi, but she is unrepentant. This continues on for a long time – to long for me to watch. It was heart warming to see young guys keeping this young lady’s dignity in check.

Nothing like drinking from a cask without a glass to market how drunk you are. Yes, walking along the street, head tilted back like the Reach cartoon character with the flip top head, guzzling away from a cask! No surprise this person did not get in – to anywhere!

People sometimes think that even though you have been refused entry, that you can still get in with extenuating circumstances; for example toilet needs. I remember as a new bouncer taking pity on a lady who needed the ‘loo’ desperately but was inappropriately dressed. I let her in only to find she just wanted to drink and party. Now when these people ask and get refused even though they are ‘busting’, it may seem inhumane to suggest the local public conveniences, but hey, we only get tricked once.

Love her!!!!!!!!

What's left of her plays shows all over Europe and guess what one of her major demands are??? Besides an undisclosed list of drugs, 2 cases of Jack Daniels are on top of her concert rider! Sex, drugs and non-stop partying, makes beautiful music but it also cuts ones life short!

So Lily Allen has taken to her blog to explain her foolery over the weekend at the GQ Awards that she was co-hosting with Lady Elton John. Here's a little of what she said:

Hi , now it's all died down i'm saying my side of what I can't believe is considered to be a story. Elton john and I are friends. I was honoured when Elton asked me to present the GQ awards with him this year in association with Elton's AIDS foundation. Not only was it for a good cause but who would say no to Elton.

I'm not defending my drunkeness because i don't need to, i'm 23 it was an awards ceremony i drank the free champagne, how awful of me. Trying to create a feud on the other hand, and trying to make me out as being some rude little girl with a drink problem is just unfair, Elton and I exchanged jokes and there were no hard feelings at all, infact neither of us gave it a second thought. It's sad that an evening enjoyed by all had to ruined by some bitter journos again.This isn't meant to be a place for me to respond to journalists, but I am very grateful I have this page, if i didn't then i would have absolutely no voice when it comes to this stuff.

All these showbiz journalists are just bullies when it comes down to it. I have felt really very bullied this week.I realise that when i first started this job I slagged a few people off when I probably shouldn't have and I have been opinionated about some things, but i haven't said a bad word about anyone for a long time, even when I have wanted to, even when people have tried to start feuds and said horrible things about me when they'd never even met me, when they'd based an opinion on me because of something they'd read. It's hurtful, but it's fine if you want to print a picture of me and say how awful I look, how much weight i've put on or how terrible my choice of clothes were that day. In my opinion it's still a form of bullying and if anyone spoke to any of my friends like that to their faces i'd want to kill them. But character assasination is another thing it's just not needed.

Eh. Who really cares? Guess I do since I posted it huh?

Video from a different angle: