An ode to the locals

Flat face, I share this trait
With a face so flat
I like the way you tuck your trousers
Into your socks like that.
Shaking hands, concealing pills
When I see the police
I, too, feel the thrill.
What a herd, what companions
You all look the same
Dogs walking dogs
So cool, much amaze.
So poetic and graceful
Billy Shakez just quivers
In his grave. Read more

Who's your daddy

Me, I’m your daddy.
Guys, I’m here to save your lives. It’s time to get psyched.
I mean, this is about helping you save your skin and your wallet at the same time. It’s about a face mask. A homemade face mask.
I’m not just raving about this because it’s cheap, even though it is in fact dirt cheap. I’ve gone through countless Lush masks (the fresh-faced ones), L’Oreal masks and Dr Organic masks. But none of them really work for me like this one, made entirely of things you should have in your kitchen already (if you’re brown, you will definitely have all these things).
Buckle up and sit tight, because I’m about to blow your mind. Here’s what you’ll need:

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6 ways to combat blogger’s block

Ahhh yes. Blogger’s block. It hits the best of us, it’s so frustrating, it’s the worst. It’s even worse when you have a post planned out and you’re like ‘nah. I can’t be bothered’. And into your drafts it goes. Along with the 200 other drafts.
The reason I can write this post is because I know exactly what to do, but my brain is just nope. So, I thought it best to publicise my solutions in the hope that other peoples brains aren’t broken and can actually follow this advice! Here we go.
Write a review
Easy. Probably the easiest type of post ever. Read a book, watch a movie, listen to an album, try a new product. And honestly, I don’t feel like you can ever have enough reviews. Except about makeup. We really don’t need that many reviews of the Naked palettes. Please, for the love of God, stop swatching every shade on your arm, I have seen this 40 times.
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The best shows on Netflix right now

I’m not a serial killer.
Yes, Archer is probably my favourite show in the entire world. Closely followed by the Walking Dead. Yes, Krieger is one of my favourite fictional characters in the entire world, closely followed by Daryl.
No, the Walking Dead isn’t on Netflix.
I wish I could be the person who was really interested in only one genre so that you could trust my opinion on shows of that genre, except no I don’t because that would be boring. Instead, I watch different genres, but here’s the catch: I am so hard to impress when it comes to TV. Much like books, I rarely ever finish an entire series/keep up with new episodes. I hate it when people suggest shows to me and tell me to watch them because I’M SORRY BUT I WON’T WATCH IT. Which renders me writing this post a little bit ironic… but I’m never going to watch Game of Thrones. And I’m never going to watch Pretty Little Liars.
There are a few shows on Netflix and Amazon Prime that have impressed me, either now or in the past, and I’m about to list those of the Netflix variety here, because I feel like more people have Netflix than Prime. I also think that most people will have already watched some of what is on this list, but after conversing with a few people who have actually never seen any of the things I watch, I decided to do this.
Let me just reiterate – if I’m suggesting you watch something, you’d better believe it’s really good.  Let me also tell you that I have only watched every single episode of two shows on this list…
Jane the Virgin
This is my newest endeavour. I’ve been hearing so many good things about this show, but the title and the preview pictures made me go nah. It didn’t look like the kinda thing I would like – but no! This is actually really good. I’m only four episodes in, and I love Jane. I also love her and her fiancé. Do they really end up getting married? I’m guessing she ends up with the guy that that everyone is swooning over who, by the way, I don’t find attractive. Don’t tell me anything, I’ll start episode 5 today.
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Every line in your palm [June Journal]

13/06/2017
Today’s prompt: What is home?
Home is walking through the doors and leaving all pressures, all standards and requirements at the entrance. It’s being free from prying eyes and worrying if you’ve accidentally pulled your socks over your leggings. It’s being free from dreading another human being talking to you or asking you a question when you’re just trying to get home please leave me alone.
It’s taking off any fancy clothes, it’s taking off the uncomfortable shoes and it’s changing into baggy sweatpants and a hole-ridden hoodie. It’s giving yourself a head massage and tying your hair back up, washing your face of grime and pollution and freeing yourself from the worry that there’s lipstick on your teeth, or that your foundation is sliding off.
It’s grabbing all the snacks you can find and falling down onto the sofa in a blanket. It’s turning on the tv and watching cartoons whilst stuffing your face with sausage rolls, crisps and yoghurt after a day of carrying yourself with an air of dignified wisdom. It’s whinging, howling with laughter and burping out loud after a day of stifling your sneezes and being careful not to laugh too loud.
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You will never love me again

I’m just trying to find a friend that I can kick back with.
Maybe listen to Fleetwood Mac for hours whilst getting shit done. Write music. Sing songs with so much passion at the top of our lungs and convince ourselves we wrote them.
Or take some mescaline (thanks, Kurt) and see who can come up with the wildest stories (whilst listening to Jeff Buckley) and draw. Stare at the ceiling and talk about literally everything. Rant and talk shit about the people we hate. Tell them my struggles and not be judged or ridiculed or ignored. Someone who will be there whether it’s 4pm or 4am.
I want to be high as hell when I tell them something that’s bothering me, and they’ll be high as yike defending me to the death and coming up, in the utmost seriousness, with an elaborate plan to kill whoever pissed me off. And we’ll both believe it’ll happen even though later on we’ll laugh about it. But they weren’t joking and I’d have to stop them from doing something insane.
Reserve Sundays for formula 1, obviously.
It’s me. I’m describing myself.
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