Hoo Hah; disturbance: a disorderly outburst or tumult

Had a minor accident a few short hours ago.....

SO I came in from a long hard day at work and wanted to make myself a cold drink. 

Now, I am quite picky- I always have to drink my beverages from a pint glass - none of these piddley 'only lasts one sip' glasses. I reached into the cupboard and pulled out a stack of two IKEA(of course!) pint glasses. 

"Hmmmm these seem to be stuck together....."

"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD" - oh yeah I still live at home, don't judge rent in London is hideous and I only graduated in July....(defensive much?!)

"Put them in hot water darling and they should come upstuck"

Righteo.... Dads are always right. So, I put them in boiling hot water in the sink - "I'll just throw in some fairy liquid for lubrication"

Returned to the situation a few minutes later and put ALL my strength into separating the glasses. 

SUDDENLY..............

 A GLASS EXPLOSION!!!!!!!!

 EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!

"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUUUUUCK GLASS EVERYWHERE FUCK!!!!!"

Should note that my father was tutoring a young teen at the time and I am not proud of my foul choice of cursing word and the volume at which it was projected. - it's not big and it's not clever......

Ok, I tried to calm down and drop all glass back into the sink. I then STUPIDLY decided to viciously RUB my hands together in an effort to remove all clingy shards of glass. 

NB: DO NOT RUB GLASS SMOTHERED HANDS TOGETHER.

ME:"FUCK FUCK FUCK THERE'S GLASS STUCK IN MY FUCKING FINGER. MUM BRING TWEEZERS!!!!"

ME:"TAKE IT OUT TAKE IT OUT..."

MUM:"OH I can't see that, I need my glasses" 

MUM:"PHIL come help take the glass out!"

DAD:"Wait, I can't see that, I need my glasses"

ME:"Bloody hell guys!!!" - Blood POURING out of my finger at this point!!

DAD:"Rach, is there actually any glass in there?"

ME:"WHERE DO YOU THINK THE BLOOD IS COMING FROM??!!!"

ME:"Just give me the tweezers i'll do it myself."

WHAT.A.HOO.HAH

Mother redeemed herself by wrapping a plaster round my injury and Father cleared all the broken glass up and made a LOVELY joke about the shards being diamonds.

Hostage; A person seized or held as security for the fulfillment of a condition

On 27th December I was out with these fine people (plus a few more stragglers) for my Brother's 28th Birthday:

If you know the people on the LHS of this picture you will know that things are bound to get messy....

After many... many... many cocktails, shots and embarrassing declarations (on my part...) in our favourite Wimbledon based watering hole, we moved on to another fine Wimbledon based establishment  (we don't vary much I am afraid).

The drinking continued.........

Towards the end of the night I took a trip to the bathroom, having done my business and washed my hands, I looked in the mirror, chuckled a little at the snoring toilet attendant sitting on the upturned bin and started to walk out of the room.
As I was leaving, I noticed the array of (CHEAP!!) perfumes the attendant had for public use. With one quick glance back at the sleeping woman I figured "WHY NOT?!". Massive hideous error.

Turns out I am not particularly stealth.

I picked up the one scent I knew was fairly trust worthy and wouldn't make me smell like eau de OLD PROSTITUTE. The choice - D&G light blue.
I sprayed two super quick squirts, keeping one eye on the sleeping dragon at all times.
I speedily managed to pop the lid back on the bottle and just as I reached to place the perfume back on the shelf the TINIEST little clink against a bottle of Lacoste Touch of Pink rang out like an echoing BELL TOWER!!
OH SHIT. 
In my drunken state I legged it from the toilet as best I could. Not quick enough. I was viciously GRABBED by the hair and forced to stop dead in my tracks.
The lady demanded I pay her for the perfume - 50p! To this I said with great conviction - "WHAT?! I only took 2 squirts!!!"
She PINNED me against the wall....
"TWO squirts??? You give me one pound then"
"ERM NOOOO you were asleep!!!" - not sure where my logic was in this reaction.
"You pay me the pound right now. Do I come to your work and steal from you. Do you think that is fair? Why do you steal from me now hey?! Just because I was asleep you cannot steal from me. You are selfish girl. You stole from me. Now give me money!!!"

ONE POUND FOR TWO SQUIRTS??!!! 
I'm SORRY... I didn't realise I was spraying essence of Diamond, Ruby and Platinum - the juice of which has been extracted by mute Ethiopian orphans and bottled especially for this toilet attendant by the Prince of Dubai. 


Nevertheless, I actually would have paid the lady IF I had my purse on me. I had left my bag upstairs with the group - no money and no phone meant I was actually stranded with this crazy attendant who I HONESTLY believed would flush my face down the toilet if I didn't magic £1 from thin air!!!

I tried to explain I had no money on me and was accused of being both a thief and a liar - these verbal hits of abuse coming from a PSYHCO that had me restrained against a wall with her arm around my neck. CHARMING


I told the lady I would nip upstairs and get £1 for her. "NO you will not come back. You will run a way stupid girl, do you think I am stupid too, you will not come back?!" Absolutely stranded and crapping myself. 


Luckily, a random girl happened upon my situation and offered to pay the lady for my release.
I had a price on my head and it was £1 - the girl only had 50p. SERIOUSLY??!! How was this happening???
Another girl appeared. I had to BEG a randomer for 50p!!!!!! It was a new low.

The lovely girls paid my ransom and the beastly attendant backed away into her dungeon of overpriced perfumes and bog roll.

I RAN for my life upstairs and did not return to the toilet for the rest of the night.

Of course my Facebook got a nice update:

Drunk; Intoxicated with alcoholic liquor to the point of impairment of physical and mental faculties.

One of my (WONDERFUL) older brothers kindly reminded me of the next hideous experience, I am about to describe for you, on a night out last week.

Cheers Dan...

SO, when I was 12 my family and I went on Holiday in Greece. Two things you should know:

1) This was my first 'proper' holiday abroad (well... that I was aware of)

2) This was a CHRISTIAN holiday. Yes my parents took us on a Mastersun holiday..... I don't think I have actually admitted this to anyone until now. But what the hoo. 

As CRINGEY as a Christian holiday sounds we actually had an amazing fortnight..... once you get past the all the bible reading and evening prayer meetings of course.

Luckily, my parents were happy to give me some freedom by leaving me in the protection of my older brother Daniel. (.............unfortunately for them, Mother and Father had left the more responsible of their sons at home and were all too trusting of young 'responsible' Daniel)

There was a big group of young teens staying at the resort and most nights we would go into town and then end up on the beach until the early hours - Oh we were Crazy Christian Kids...... (YEAHHHH ALLITERATIONS!!!)

One of the nights, we decided to try our luck at purchasing a truck load of alcohol from a local shop/kiosk/off license/Newsagents (European term?!) and we took it all back to the beach. 

By this age I had of course had alcohol before - I'm not amish or anything. However, I had not ever been so completely inebriated that I forgot who and where I was. 

The alcohol consumption had started gradually with beers, vodka and coke and Tequila Sunrises (courtesy of our CHRISTIAN reps at the hotel bar). As we sprawled out onto the beach the consumption soon changed to spirits straight out of the bottle. 

This was the first and LAST time I would drink Apple Schnapps. 

My dear brother claims that at this point he told me to 'calm down'..... and my response was 'GO AWAYYYY I'M FINEEEEEEE!!!'  - NOT that I am a trustworthy source but this SO does not sound like me..... **not making eye contact** la la la la laaaaaaa

SECONDS later.....

VOMITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!! 

OH the humiliation....... in front of all my new best christian holiday pals!! 

Centre of attention - the object upon which interest and attention focuses

May have already mentioned this but I HATE being the centre of attention. My face goes all red, I get overly warm and turn into a babbling cretin.

AGAIN my friends and family like to use this to their advantage. One such incident came on my 21st Birthday.
Right yeah '21st' equals centre of attention ... I know!!


We were having a lovely BBQ and I had my closest family and friends there.

Pleasant looking family and friends....... 

Then it came to the opening of the presents....... for which I was BRUTALLY pressured to stand at the VERY end of my fairly long garden ..... ALONE.

I WANT TO DIE RIGHT THIS SECOND

Bright red face, tears streaming, father had to bring me a chair, cannot bare to open my presents. Perfect birthday. 

Oh the mirth.

LOVELY LOVELY FAMILY AND FRIENDS. 

Tease; Make fun of or attempt to provoke (a person or animal) in a playful way

Growing up with two older brothers has made me rather sensitive, defensive and argumentative... not selling myself here right am I?!


The people who are most aware of this, and thus use it to their advantage, are my WONDERFUL school friends.

Perhaps the most notorious of incidents came at my friend Lily's 18th (.....may have been 17th?!) birthday dinner. We were in a noodle/ Japanese style restaurant in Hampton Wick all deciding what to have etc etc etc. I had seen two dishes - one of which i had LOLed at and thought "Who in their right mind would order that??!!" the other I had chosen to order.
GUESS which dish I pointed at (unintentionally of course) when the waitress took my order. WHAT A TWAT. 
The dish I had ordered, contained one MASSIVE fishy ingredient that in its whole natural form I am not a fan of. SQUID. (Calamari rings are acceptable)

I actually yelped out loud when I saw the whole baby squid floating around in my dinner.
It may as well have been dancing around in front of me.......... dun dun duuuuuuuuuun

VOM!!!!!!!!!!!!




Anyway, believing that I was ACTUALLY going to spew - I legged it to the bathroom.
A few minutes later one of my more sympathetic friends came in and offered to swap dishes with me.

SO, I decided to return to the table, (my very kind friend had switched the dishes already so that I did not have to face the grotesque squid again). I sat down.

Now.... having spent about 6 years at school with my friends I knew them pretty well by this point. I knew, I just KNEW I wasn't getting off this lightly. SO I searched around my new dinner for a while, with every expectation of finding the baby squid hiding under a pile of rice somewhere.

NOPE, nothing. Exxxxxcellent - perhaps they're not as horrid (or opportunist) as I suspected.


With a sigh of relief I lifted my glass of water to my lips and .... began to drink. (Just describing this moment is bringing tears of hideous recollection to my eyes). NEVER TRUST MY FRIENDS.
As I started sipping my water I began to catch every.single.one of my friends' eyes staring at me, jaws dropping to the floor.

YES. the baby squid had been placed IN MY RUDDY WATERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! The white tentacle infested beast of fishy grimness was bouncing around in my only source of hydration!!!!!!!!!!!

I feel like I blanked out at this point. 

Peckham; a district in south London, England, located in the London Borough of Southwark.

Not quite sure how I have forgotten to post about this little episode.

It was the night of my work Christmas party (Thursday night.... which I have been informed is the new Friday).
We were at ONEFORONE on Park Lane with free flowing alcohol - As long as you managed to nab the free drinks 'tokens' from HR - which by chance looked like Ecstasy Pills and were residing in see through baggies. But rest assured they were most definitely plastic.

ANYwhooo.... by the end of the night I was absolutely Bungaloed!! (Are Michael Macintyre references still allowed?! Probably not...) However, KNOWING the issues I seem to have travelling home from nights out I had planned my journey to.the.minute. Or so I thought.

THE PLAN
Begin at Marble Arch - Night Bus to Vauxhall RAIL station - Train to Surbiton Rail station - £5 Taxi to my house - Open front door and go to bed - (get up for work in the morning having had actual sleep)

THE REALITY
Begin at Marble arch - Night bus PAST Vauxhall BUS station - Stay on night bus and wait for it to get to Vauxhall RAIL station - Stay on for about 25 minutes and realise I am well and truly past Vauxhall - Decide to get off bus into freezing rain - Wander around for a bit in the rain - CRY (But maybe it was rain..) - Realise I am in PECKHAM (WHERE is Peckham?!?) - Try ringing brothers to come pick me up (NO CHANCE) - Decide to take bus back on myself so stand at bus stop with no shelter for 45 minutes in RAIN - FINALLY reach Vauxhall Bus/Rail station (Realise this is the same place.... hang head in shame) - Realise there are no trains to take me home at this ungodly hour - RUN for night bus to Kingston - Get a taxi from Kingston to home - CRAWL into bed at about 4.30am - Fall asleep at around 5.30am - Get up for work at 6.30am - DIE.IN.WORK (and trip up in the office... ALOT).

Overconfidence; total certainty or greater certainty than circumstances warrant

I am a particularly clumsy person.

One 'accident' that featured in my school year book's 'Priceless Moments' section occurred at the end of First year.
We were sitting our end of year English exam, I had finished a few minutes early and figured I would take this time NOT reading through my test paper checking for correct grammar and spellings. No No I was so OVER confident I thought I would sit back, relax and have a rock on my chair.
ERROR.


Ofcourse.... OFCOURSE I fell straight backwards and got hideously stuck there - on my back, legs up in the air, still fully glued to my chair. I LITERALLY had to ROLLLLLLLL off my chair while the whole class peered on with bewildered amusement.

Not only am I clumsy but I am notoriously awkward, easily embarrassed and severely uncomfortable being the centre of attention. Well you can imagine this little episode really helped my insecurities.

Subtlety; the state or quality of being subtle; delicacy

SO... back in the day I was on a WERRRRRRRRY drunken night out with my beautiful best friend Laura.
We clambered our way on to the night bus home to good old Surbiton (Wahey!) and fell into our seats at the back of the bus - no no NOT the top level back of the bus, that would be madness, we are sooooo NOT cool enough for that seating. 
Anyway, we were happily riding along discussing the tomfooleries of the night whilst most likely basking in each other's amazing banter, when I noticed we were sitting directly opposite our childhood acquaintance (one might say 'friend')!! A friend that we had since spent many hours mocking and discussing in full length why our mothers had forced us to be friends with her. Really hope she never sees this....
Ever the subtle girl, I took my phone out (having already GASPED in the girls face when I realised who she was) and wrote the following:

Ever the NOT so subtle girl, Laura, in lieu of reading the message in her head, chose to read it with such poignant clarity that each word was an individual stab to my integrity. 

Yes, I did just Google poignant and integrity to check they meant what I thought they did.... I am still unsure. 

OH CRAP. I actually died right there and then. I wanted to throw myself off at the next bus stop. Laura of course had absolutely NO clue what she had done and still had not cottoned on to Isabelle sitting 2 feet in front of her.
Thus.... the embarrassment did not end there... following this came a certain amount of "What?! I don't get it. Isabelle?! Isabelle who?! Why are you showing me this?!" "Why are you telling me to shush... tell me" etc etc etc.

I should probably mention that Isabelle had of course recognised the two drunken wrecks from her youth the minute we stepped on the bus.
After a painstakingly long bus journey trying extraordinarily hard NOT to catch Isabelle's eye line we finally hopped off the bus.
LAURA YOU ABSOLUTE CRETIN.

American; Of or relating to the United States of America or its people, language, or culture.

Quite often Americans say things that ACTUALLY dumfound me.....

In 2010 I was working as an Intern in London. I was on my daily commute through Waterloo and it was hectic as you would expect. I was trying with all my might to push through the slow moving crowds of tourists when I over heard an American lady say......

I mean..... REALLY??!!!??? 


Another example:

I am not particularly a fan of Harrods (mostly because it intimidates me slightly inside!) but even I have to perk up here and say ERM NO. Harrods is to 'Bloomies' as Dyson is to a dust pan and brush.

Door Stepping; When an item is left on a Door step because it may be too big to fit through a standard letter box.

In December I made a trip up to Manchester to see some Uni friends and go to Warehouse Project. I was staying at Rose's so we got ready and drank our body weight in gin at hers.
We arrived at WHP about 11.30 and both managed to get absolutely mashed. Rose however, was noticeable less coherent than me - ohhhhhh dear..... 
After muchos interesting and SHOCKING behaviour from my dear friend (it is taking ALL of my restraint not to go into further detail right now.....) Rose had to leave early and forked out a hideous amount for a cab ride home.
I stayed and had a glorious night. If only that was the end of this story.

Originally Rose and I had had a plan - Leave WHP at closing (about 5am), sit in the hideous Mancunian Cafe Antonio's until the first train at (6.30am). It was fool proof - until now.
This plan solo is not such a great idea. Therefore I attempted to wait for the first train in Piccadilly station - and again updated my Facebook status publicising my TWATTINESS. 

I got hideously bored and decided to get a wad of cash out that I couldn't really afford and pay for a ludicrous black cab!!! Suddenly realised I didn't actually know Rose's exact address.... after much stressing and deliberating with the taxi driver (who I got to give me a £21 discount, winner) I realised I had Rose's drivers license and bank card. (Found out later that Rose's driving license has the correct road name but a completely different post code..... WHY I am still not sure).
Finally managed to locate Rose's house and got to the door. OH SHIT... how do I get in?! No key! and Rose is surely out cold on her bed right now.
I banged and banged on her door for about half an hour.... searched for a key for a while through various walking boots, socks and an umbrella stand.... then decided to just fall asleep and wait for Rose to wake up.

I slept cross legged on her FREEZING doorstep for a good hour  and woke up with a dead as a door nail foot. It suddenly occurred to me (perhaps I was finally sobering up...) that there was a door bell!!!! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS..... after about 5 minutes of ringing (and some stirring neighbours) I heard nothing from Rose. I then got on all fours in absolute desperation and started BASHING my head against her door. It was a low point i'm not going to lie. 
And then when all hope was lost Rose came bounding down the stairs.... I have never felt so happy to see a fumbling drunken friend in my life. I literally crawled into the house and FINALLY made it to bed.

Theft; A person is guilty of theft if he dishonestly appropriates property belonging to another with the intention of permanently depriving the other of it; and “thief” and “steal” shall be construed accordingly.

One of my most destructive nights began... yet again ....in Clapham.
My old school friends and I had been bar hopping along Northcote road. In one bar, we were in a top section which was pretty private. We were surrounded by glass shelving which had lots of full spirit bottles lined up on it. For some STUPID reason I genuinely believed these bottles would be filled with actual alcohol and were consequently there for the taking. WHAT A DOUCHE.
The result was - 1) A VERY broken glass shelf  2) An open bottle of fake Kir Royale which I attempted to down 3) empty and smashed glasses of wine on the table which I knocked over in this whole process 4) a very wet Jhono who was unfortunately in my path of destruction.

After we left said bar we went to a little newsagents - I am not too sure why but as a lemming I followed the majority. For some other STUPID reason I thought it would be funny to steal a bright yellow lighter and some Milk Chews. Riiiiiiiiight.
Really hope I don't get called in by the police for all these truths. 


The night was ending - SO quite wisely I figured I should nip to the loo before commencing my long journey home. When I came out each of my friends had dispersed. Oh Fan dabby dosey. Ok that's fine, I will find a bus stop and make my way home, one bus is not too difficult right?!? And after a previous bus disaster I KNEW to check I was taking the bus the right way.
Long story short. NO it is not that simple. I took the bus into London yet again. Got off as soon as I realised, was followed by a scary man, had some sobbing phone calls with Elena, updated my Facebook status so EVERYONE knew what a TWAT I am and hopped on a bus to Waterloo after much deliberation. The outcome.........

To sum up: Shut out of Waterloo. Stole some Coke and Brioche from the M&S van. Rang for a Taxi. When said Taxi arrived and the driver called me I hid behind the M&S crates, answered and pretended he had just woken me up (Ruddy Genius... ). Had the Brioche taken off my by the M&S man. Lost my coke in a bush. Got a hideously expensive Taxi to my brothers house and slept on the sofa with his Miniature Daschund snoring on me.

Elena's got it right.....

Public Transport; a system of vehicles such as buses and trains which operate at regular times on fixed routes and are used by the public

I am swiftly becoming renowned for my inability to use Public Transport when inebriated.
Subtext: When I am absolutely shit faced I take buses the wrong way.


I am able to trace this not so enviable skill back to September 2010; a night out in Clapham with my beloved old school chums. After leaving the absurdly grim Clapham Grand ("It's the hottest Saturday night party in London- its not just a club, its an experience!"..... erm NO!!) a number of us decided to take the Night Bus back to Kingston. ERROR. In fact we took the bus ALL.THE.WAY into Central London; via Vauxhall, over the Thames, past such well known landmarks as Downing Street and Trafalgar Square... it was quite a while before any of us cottoned on.  

There are a number of these sorts of stories to follow.... and I am CERTAIN more to come in the future. Bear with me.