Archive for August 2010

Tony Blair: Please like me again.

August 17, 2010

So the former Prime Minister may not have actually uttered these words, but it’s blatantly the wish behind his somewhat desperate attempt of getting back in the warmth by donating the advance of his new memoirs to the British Legion, more specifically the rehabilitation of soldiers returning from service.

blair, bush

Oh Tony, you really do make me chuckle. You could get up in front of a hundred thousand people at Wembley Stadium with your own rendition of Bryan Adams’ “Please Forgive Me” and it would make just as little an impact as your donation of a few million pounds. Now, some have gone as far as to refer to Tony Blair’s donation as “blood money”, a term that I personally think has lost its meaning a lot the way people throw it about. I’d be more inclined to refer to the money as a bribe, or a poor attempt of a bribe.

Tony Blair got into office a very popular man, mainly because he has some sort of complex when it comes to popularity and fame, and hence he chases it relentlessly. I’m not saying that England under Blair was a bad one, he did do some good. However what a lot of people is going to remember him for is the lives lost under him for joining a cowboy on a hunt for WOMD (read as oil), and someone who so desperately wants to make the history books and remain in people’s minds as a hero that he thought donating some money would make up for joining the most talked about Easter egg hunt in the history of, well, Easter.

bush easter

I could give you numbers of people killed in Iraq and Afghanistan. I could give you numbers of British soldiers killed due to allied mistakes if I was really feeling like hammering in the point as to why joining a war with America is a bad idea. I’m not going to though; as all it does is reduce someone’s child, someone’s sibling and someone’s parent to a number. There’s a rather common saying in media, different variations of “you cannot put a value on a human life.” Seems like Tony Blair disagrees though, he’s put a value on the lives of those who fought and died, those who lost limbs, those who lost friends, who lost everything, those who are still fighting an never-ending war. £4.6 million. Doesn’t seem that much of an effort, considering he has earned more than four times that since leaving his post as Prime Minister just as we faced a financial crisis.

Still, I digress. After all, the money isn’t serving its purpose. I’m sorry Tony, it seems forgiveness can’t be bought, and people are still more likely to mention you in the same breath as your pal Bush than the likes of Churchill. Guess you should have thought about that before you got into bed with someone whose most challenging daily task is to figure out which shoe goes on which foot.

Sil, x


Northerners versus Southerners

August 16, 2010

I love Manchester, I love the north of England in general, people are so polite and friendly it’s such a breath of fresh air compared to the stressed, rude and self obsessed Londoners that I usually surround myself with.

Everyone has places to be, we’re all guilty of sometimes being rude because we’re busy, however when I’m up north it seems the world just slows down and people are more relaxed. People will actually apologise when they walk into you for example, and you won’t have random people grabbing your ass and trying to stick their tongue down your throat when you’re out (unless you’re unfortunate enough to run into the many Londoners who study up here). Going to Manchester, or even Liverpool (I hate the team, but the city itself is nice enough, and I’ve met some lovely people on nights out there) is better than any holiday. I come back feeling relaxed and happy, although depending on the football results of that day, even when I have had twelve hour days travelling up and down.

Northerners are nicer than southerners. On the looks side of things, there’s not really much of a difference, but the easy going and charming nature of the northerners does tend to make them more attractive. They’re less likely to run you over when you cross the street (take note London drivers, red is stop, green is go. Really, I promise). They’re less likely to pick on women at a football match; you don’t feel safe walking up to Stamford Bridge if you’re not a rent boy fan, even with twenty bodyguards. They know the words please and thank you (I may be a bitch, but I’m a fucking polite one. Manners matter). Walking down the street in Manchester, the loon on the corner sings love songs to me. Walking down the street in London, the loons are too many to count and most of them are wearing nice suits and they’ll only be singing love songs American Psycho style as they chop into you with an axe. All in all, I reckon the northerners have the win.

We could all do with people behaving a bit better when they’re out and about, however much of a rut your life may be stuck in or despite the fact that your fancy bonus is only going to be five grand rather than ten this term. So Londoners, please, just slow the fuck down.

slow down

Sil, x

Edward, You’re Gay.

August 16, 2010


See I love vampires, I’m a self confessed Buff-a-holic, I love Gerard Butler in Dracula 2000 (or 2001 depending on which title you believe to be the right one, interview with a vampire is pretty decent too. I know I dedicate a lot of blog space to a certain other vampire series, which I happen to be less than a great fan of, and I just wanted to share it with the rest of you, as quite frankly, it does sum up how I feel, and it made me giggle.

For future reference, if you are trying to write a book or make a movie and it includes hot and human looking vampires, look below for inspiration. Not a sparkles in the sunlight cougar magnet in sight.


spike and angel

Mmm mmm mmm

Chloe x

Things that make me smile, part 4

August 14, 2010


So I may have mentioned this before, but nothing makes me smile quite as much as watching my boys at Old Trafford. I actually would go as far as saying that nothing makes me happier than when I’m watching my boys winning at home (or away), there is a reason why football comes before both sex and rock’n’roll in the title on my blog.

It finally feels like my life is whole again and I cannot wait to be spending days and nights in my favourite city in the world. It can get pretty messy though, so watch this space.

Sil, x

Green and (a fool’s) Gold

August 8, 2010

green and gold

I haven’t worn my Manchester United shirt since the 3rd of January of this year. The reason I remember the date so well? That’s the day we lost to Leeds, a date that’s not likely to leave my mind any time soon. Instead I have been one of the tens of thousands who have turned up at the matches with my Green and Gold scarf, a protest against the American owners that are running my beloved club into the ground.

I went to see my team at Wembley today, beating Chelsea 3-1, the joys of which can only be described as absolutely orgasmic. Sadly though there was a damper on my mood. Everywhere I looked there were people in this season’s new shirt, and around their neck a Green and Gold scarf, this season’s fashion accessory.

I know I’m preaching double standards; after all I have spent several hundred pounds on my season ticket that will go straight to the Glazer’s pockets. I could not give up watching my team, it would absolutely kill me, and if we all gave them up, who would voice our concern within the ground? Maybe it’s a bit of a cop out, but I simply could not manage to give up watching my team every other week. I will not be giving United any money beyond that though. No food, alcohol, merchandise will be bought by me till the Glazers are gone from Old Trafford, nor will I wear my red, white and black.

Those of you who wear your new kits with the Green and Gold scarf make a mockery out of the protest. It looses its importance because you cannot protest against something that you are supporting at the same time. Old Trafford last season was a sea of Green and Gold, albeit with some red in between, today Wembley was red, with a couple of green and gold spots. I just hope this doesn’t carry on to Old Trafford and the start of the season next week.

I know I’m not usually this serious, but this is something that really bothers me, and not a day goes by without me worrying about what’s eventually going to happen to the club that I love above everything, and everyone.

Till next time,

Sil, x

P.S. If by some extremely moronic notion people continue to wear their brand new AON shirts, whilst wearing a green and gold scarf (at least buy it from MUST), I will be forced to attack you all with green and gold cans of spray paint.

Things that make me smile, Part 3

August 2, 2010

AJ Styles with his shirt off

AJ Styles, TNA Wrestler and (in my head at least) Sex symbol, showing off his new tattoo. Yes I like Wrestling, only TNA though. Yes I know it’s fake, but half naked men and women getting sweaty is fucking great entertainment and I fancy the pants off AJ Styles. The dates on his tattoo are the birth dates of his children, so that tells me his pecker works and all. Come to mama, baby, yummy.

Sil, x

Sexual fashions I just don’t get, Part 1

August 2, 2010

Shaving your pussy, but leaving a little bit at the top, making a silly pattern or even colouring it. What the hell is wrong with you people? It’s not sexy, sensual or attractive, it just shows you don’t have a life and spend time styling pubic hair. That can’t be a good thing.


Rampant Rabbits. The rabbit ears themselves are cute. I mean pink, purple, blue, any colour you want you can get, and the rabbit vibrates and can make you a very happy girl. However, and I blame Sex and the City for this, the main vibrator’s popularity must be down to looking nice rather than feeling nice. Personally I don’t find anything pleasurable about having something that feels like carved and bumpy stone pumping away inside me like a drunken virgin on his first attempt of pleasuring a woman. And failing miserably.

Girl on girl porn with butch lesbians made for men. If you’re watching it, if you’re enjoying it, if you’re a man… you really should come out of the closet.

Till next time boys and girls,

Sil, x

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