~PAWSGLOB~

so theres this girl, you will probably know her.
its like ive never not, its like shes always been there, somewhere -5,
its like i know so much about her, but really its nothing,
thats where you all have one up on me i guess.

im not her, as you may well have guessed,
far from it infact.
though this is her,
you 'are' in the right place,
im thmttwd.blogspot.com,
alike thevikipedia.blogspot.com,
but crappier.

On here,
shes taller than me,
and a much better speller.
and about 7 ahead in half the time.

So this is real late and way over due,
and if you have come here to read about tricks,
then i apologize, cos you will be mildly disappointed.
cos i'm a few lines and shes a paragraph.
        i'm nonsense, she inspires.
        i'm powerbook in my studio space, she's laptop lying on her bed.
        i'm packed lunch, she's chips barm and gravy,
        and shes got someone saving her a place in the queue on 'chip day.'
        i've have no time, she makes time.
        she's crumpets on cheese sandwiches, i'm microwaved cheese on
        bread.
        she's on the seats near the sandwich and milk corner, i'm not, i'm on the         train next to the the large man/woman, who talks to her/him self and
        perspires on me.
        i could potentially go through more than a pack a day, and are just
        stuck anywhere as my jaw begins to ache, hers are discarded into a
        tiny hole as she leaves school.
        she doesnt like maths, me either.
        who does? well i know one person, and she lives with the shame,
        everyday. haha, you all probably wouldn't know her though, but you
        should, she's alright.

'you, looking at me, looking at you'...
...cos its all about observationing, and you/me/us looking what shes writing about her, while looking at us. And if there's anyones that is worth reading and thinking about, its hers. its this one. shes real, and not many people are real, with other people and most certainly themselves, she is.
i don't really know where to go from here, i don't think im making sense, and if this were a piece of paper i probabaly would have started again at 'so'. but its not and its here and ill probably add to this, when i realise its nothing when put at the side of 'dont adjust your set, this is a Blogswap...'
ahhhh well.
end transmission,
forget transmisson.
lets do this again,
ill do better next time,
i promise.

//MTT

Now thats a fire!

I will be impressed if i ever meet someone under the age of 30 who knows what i am talking about when i say 'Now thatsa firre!'


I'm watching room 101. I have a white drama mask tied against my mirror, it scares me in the night. Some people have never seen Grease; i find that unbeleivable. There is a conifer in my back garden that leans slightly to the left. Each corner of my headboard has a plastic crown on the pole. The person who lives across the road from me gets ants nests every year. I contantly feel inadiquit at things that i know i'm good at. I dont like maths. I drink more tea than my elderly Nan. One day i will ride on the orient express. I fancy Harrison Ford. My nails only get painted with a colour on when theyre long enough to be seen over the top of my fingers. There is a half eaten Galaxy chocolate egg resting on my remote control. My straighteners are wrapped up in a 'neat' formationn on my tele-cabinet. I played keyboard for about half a month. I went to Byrchall, mainly for the reason my friends did and i didnt want to miss anything. Fiona Phillips is too cheerful for that time in the morning. I'm trying to convince myself that i'm organised enough for tomorrow. I'm clearly not. I've just eaten the Galaxy egg. I dont know what the FTSE is. Rollin' with the homies. I really like Elizabeth Arden, 5th Ave. I wish i spoke french as successfully as i french kiss. Oceanic flight 815 takes over most of my time. Markets go up, markets go down. I lose umbrellas alot. There is a fake red rose on top of my un-used sterio system, a button hole from new year. I've stuck pictures all around the monitor of my old computer. I know what dress i'd like for my leavers dinner. Now thatsa firre.




Love, from, Vicky....x

Baby whats your name?

Possibly the most famous person in history, Anon has provided the planet with countless works of literary genius. From simple nursery rhymes to hymns and songs, the assortment of classic and contemporary works tend to differ in length, content and target audience.

Anon, or Mr. A as he is occasionally known, has been tracked down and tackled. For the first time in history (to some extent, a Google search will reward you with numerous quotes from the man himself...) Anon will answer the one question people from a trillion different countries and cultures would like to know the answer to.

Anon.; Who are you?
I find that a hard question to answer. I find that I am everybody. I am the rebelish side to you that wants to write your name in a maths text book. I am the reserved side of you that feels unpretty and just wants to hide in the corner all night. I am the regretful side to you that wishes you hadnt said that last stupid sentence. I am the unpredictable side to you that makes an uncharacteristically embarrassing action at an inappropriate time. I am the apprehensive side to you that wants to write thoughts without wanting to claim them. I am the bitchy side of you that feels the urge to add 'No comment' or 'but you didnt hear it from me..' at the end of each breath. I, after an eternity and a day of thinking, have decided that I am nobody. I am just a hidden compartment to everyones brain. Some choose to live by me, others gag me and ignore me. Depending on who you are, i can be your friend or your foe. You can be so scared of yourself, that i become the only thing you ever trust, alternatively; the opposite could apply. Conclusively, i am afraid i cannot answer you. I am everybody, some people and nobody all in one... But dont quote me on that.

The Polyneats perfroming Jump Down.

I was proud of you when the votes were counted. The look on your face when we danced told me that the rented dinner jacket was worth its weight in Cherry Lambrini stains. But mostly, it was just when the papers were scattered across the living room floor and everyone was laughing in agreement at the reasons on them.

Seeing Aaron out the window listening to his brick. He was walking next Louise and she was talking but it was shamefully obvious he was paying very little attention and concentrating more on Modest Mouse or MIA. He looked up from watching his new 'Alex B' shoes and waved at me. Giving me the best of his Aaron-smiles, his eyes seemed to tell me something; a message i couldn't identify. I waved back and turned to look at Soph to see her sat opposite. She was moodily out of the bus window looking at something but clearly taking no notice of it. To someone who knows her, you could tell she was having happy thoughts. To someone who doesn't, you would think she was ready to cry.

The look on the face of Ben 'He's so deeeep' Pickles when his younger sibling was pounding his back with her fist screaming "GO AND GET A HOMOSEXUAL LIFE PISS-FEATURES!" I, regrettably, saw the whole thing from my seat at the top of he stairs in KenfordDrive.. (all one word, as it now gets referred to as nothing else). Her dusty old keyboard perched on my knee, tears streamed down my face and i had to control myself as i made an attempt to distract her with my musical talents, an impression of the boy that started the conflict in the first place. It was pure coincidence that he was, unbeknown to us all, about to knock on her front door. I've never laughed as much in my life.

The memorable, yet somewhat hazy, moment i first saw the lake at Alton Towers. In all its misty-mid-autumn glory. This moment was followed by a row over which way was the quickest to get to the most sought after ride of the day.

Walking through the quad. Ipod ear to me, iPod ear to her. I told the story of Egan and Jenny. I told her all about the story behind the song and how i though she might like it. I remember seeing the reflection of her in Vardens black curtained window - the brief-glance looking glass of every image conscious teenager at Byrchall. I saw her look in to it. To this day, i don't know whether i imagined her wiping a tear from her eye.. or whether it actually fell. Concluding, and symbolising that she had heard enough, she removed the headphone and said these exact words; It's a nice song if you have something to relate it to.

Driving into Glasgow with my dad. Seeing the run down estates and the local people going about their daily lives. His football anthems CD was on in his old car and i was sat in the front seat questioning my sanity. I couldnt quite remember what i was thinking when i agreed to come along. Maybe it was just my willingness for a drive? I dont know. But i remember seeing the Ibrox stadium. My dads face lit up as he pulled into a parking space. He knew his way around the these streets as if he'd lived there all his life. I realised my father dearest wasnt in his home-town. He wasnt even in his own country. But he felt so at home and complete in this city that he jumped out the car as if held at gun point. It was clear, my dad loved it here. I could just tell.

Country roads in Newquay. My heart stopped when i saw Lusty Glaze. Greenday's album American Idiot was pretty much the soundtrack to what would turn out to be the most life-changing week of my life.

Sat in a corner of a grubby on-site pub. My nearest and dearest around me. Phone on the table next to a luke-warm bottle of WKD. The meatloaf tribute act blasting away a version of a classic. As the songs changed his muffled voice pounded over the speaker system announcing his next ensamble. I had other things on my mind. Clarris looked at me slyly. She knew what was coming. A rendition of 'No matter What' began in the back ground as i read the text on my phone. From that moment onwards, my life had been changed. To put a good end to the perfect week.