Either due to a cock on my part, or my hosts, I haven't been able to get onto my site for a while. Hopefully it's fixed now.
And with that, I promise I'll make an undate later tonight.
Even if I haven't really taken any noteworthy shots.
Post Lie Edit: Ok, so there is no cock up. I apparently can't remember my own URL.
And I really did mean to make the entry, I just forgot..
But, expect a megapost within the next few hours.
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
Wednesday, 12 March 2008
Good Guys, Bad Guys and Explosions
I went to the Zoo.
It was more exciting than it should have been, because I am a child.
I took some pictures, because of all the pretty colours.
The Poofbirds were noisy, and kept fighting. Everytime they saw my camera though, they stopped. I guess they didn't want evidence that could and would be used against them in a Court of Law.
The Lion seemed contemplative as he looked out of his enclosure. This image of wiseness however, was shattered when he wandered over and squirted on the glass. I feel like that was something I never need to see again.
The Tortoise was giving me those 'Oh come now, I pose for so many photos, it's fairly dull now' eyes. He made me giggle.
The Iguanas were shifty. They sat in a line watching people go past. I don't trust them.
The Chameleon was being squirted with a water bottle to give him a shower. He seemed to really like it.
The Starfish was lazy. I think that's why I loved it. I felt a bond with it.
The Fish got to swim around Pink anemones. I was jealous. I want to swim with Pink anemones.
The Crickets all seemed to be having an orgy. All except this little guy, chowing down on some corn. You go little cricket, I salute your ethos.
The Penguins found something shiny on the ground. They were noisy too.
The Seal was trying to look sophisticated, but his hair told me he was punk inside. He kept sticking his tongue out, and shaking himself and getting everyone wet.
The Gopher was chowing down on Celery. Blech, Celery.
The Monkey was playing peekaboo. He would run into his box and then poke his head out.
The Pygmy Hippo was HUGE!
We went home on the bus, the people were rude :(
Me and my new friends from the Zoo - Petrenella the Flamingo, Abraham the Penguin and Bolero the Panda.
It was more exciting than it should have been, because I am a child.
I took some pictures, because of all the pretty colours.
The Poofbirds were noisy, and kept fighting. Everytime they saw my camera though, they stopped. I guess they didn't want evidence that could and would be used against them in a Court of Law.
The Lion seemed contemplative as he looked out of his enclosure. This image of wiseness however, was shattered when he wandered over and squirted on the glass. I feel like that was something I never need to see again.
The Tortoise was giving me those 'Oh come now, I pose for so many photos, it's fairly dull now' eyes. He made me giggle.
The Iguanas were shifty. They sat in a line watching people go past. I don't trust them.
The Chameleon was being squirted with a water bottle to give him a shower. He seemed to really like it.
The Starfish was lazy. I think that's why I loved it. I felt a bond with it.
The Fish got to swim around Pink anemones. I was jealous. I want to swim with Pink anemones.
The Crickets all seemed to be having an orgy. All except this little guy, chowing down on some corn. You go little cricket, I salute your ethos.
The Penguins found something shiny on the ground. They were noisy too.
The Seal was trying to look sophisticated, but his hair told me he was punk inside. He kept sticking his tongue out, and shaking himself and getting everyone wet.
The Gopher was chowing down on Celery. Blech, Celery.
The Monkey was playing peekaboo. He would run into his box and then poke his head out.
The Pygmy Hippo was HUGE!
We went home on the bus, the people were rude :(
Me and my new friends from the Zoo - Petrenella the Flamingo, Abraham the Penguin and Bolero the Panda.
Saturday, 8 March 2008
Dear Internet.
Shut up.
I'm sick of your constant moaning about how hard your life is.
I don't care if you've been through more than the average 15 year old.
I highly doubt you're 'not the average poster/listener'.
You are yourself around other people, despite your protests that no one knows the real you.
I have tried to avoid your moaning. And yet you somehow find a way to annoy me through a new medium.
It could be worse. You're just whiny.
Shut up.
I'm sick of your constant moaning about how hard your life is.
I don't care if you've been through more than the average 15 year old.
I highly doubt you're 'not the average poster/listener'.
You are yourself around other people, despite your protests that no one knows the real you.
I have tried to avoid your moaning. And yet you somehow find a way to annoy me through a new medium.
It could be worse. You're just whiny.
Shut up.
Saturday, 1 March 2008
Oh, We'll drink and drink and drink and drink and drink and drink and fight.
Ok, as promised ages ago, but I'm a slacker.
I present to you all, Dublin.
As opposed to actually sleeping, we decided it would be far more entertaining to take pictures of ourselves Fake Sleeping.
I was obviously the best.
Tristan bought a creepy hat. I hate that hat. It makes him look creepy.. Or like a pedophile. Not words to be used lightly, but the hat is just not right.
There were a lot of buskers in Dublin. This man was a coin operated statue. He had a statue dog and played music! Under his hat hid a sunflower, and he had a bird on his finger, which he pecked you with when you gave him money! I gave him an awful lot of money.
The guy playing guitar was actually pretty good. The drunk man singing with him made the show though. If Dublin taught me anything, it's that it's completely appropriate to drink in public on cold mornings. It's funny how the kids seem oblivious to it.
This is James, we met him in the George. He came over and started talking to us, while Robbie squealed that he wasn't gay. Robbie is gay. Very gay. It's important to note here, that this is in fact, James posing, and trying to look like he's not posing. This was the only photo he let me take.
Robbie! My partner is feather boa's and diamonds crime. It's a long story.
Shirley Temple Bar of Irish Lottery fame. The drag queens mimed to songs, and this annoyed Tristan. I loved it though!
Dolly Grip, I want a furry coat, especially a pink one!
And the rhythm of life is a powerful thing!
[Insert generic 'which one's the drag queen' joke here]
From Left to Right - Veda, MEEEEEE, Shirley Temple Bar, Dolly Grip, Tristan, Victoria Secret.
I was a mess when I met them, I was all excited, like a 5 year old meeting Dora the Explorer.
I present to you all, Dublin.
As opposed to actually sleeping, we decided it would be far more entertaining to take pictures of ourselves Fake Sleeping.
I was obviously the best.
Tristan bought a creepy hat. I hate that hat. It makes him look creepy.. Or like a pedophile. Not words to be used lightly, but the hat is just not right.
There were a lot of buskers in Dublin. This man was a coin operated statue. He had a statue dog and played music! Under his hat hid a sunflower, and he had a bird on his finger, which he pecked you with when you gave him money! I gave him an awful lot of money.
The guy playing guitar was actually pretty good. The drunk man singing with him made the show though. If Dublin taught me anything, it's that it's completely appropriate to drink in public on cold mornings. It's funny how the kids seem oblivious to it.
This is James, we met him in the George. He came over and started talking to us, while Robbie squealed that he wasn't gay. Robbie is gay. Very gay. It's important to note here, that this is in fact, James posing, and trying to look like he's not posing. This was the only photo he let me take.
Robbie! My partner is feather boa's and diamonds crime. It's a long story.
Shirley Temple Bar of Irish Lottery fame. The drag queens mimed to songs, and this annoyed Tristan. I loved it though!
Dolly Grip, I want a furry coat, especially a pink one!
And the rhythm of life is a powerful thing!
[Insert generic 'which one's the drag queen' joke here]
From Left to Right - Veda, MEEEEEE, Shirley Temple Bar, Dolly Grip, Tristan, Victoria Secret.
I was a mess when I met them, I was all excited, like a 5 year old meeting Dora the Explorer.
Sunday, 17 February 2008
Dublin and Drag Queens - Photos to Follow
Travel Blog – Dublin
First off, I want to talk about Planes. I remember when I was 9; I went to Florida with my family. The Plane was gorgeous, rows of seats, TV screens, and sweets to suck on to stop your ears popping. Ryan air offers none of these things, the seats are cramped, you have no leg space, no sweets, no complimentary drinks, no TV screens, and a voiceover of the in-flight safety demo in the dodgiest Irish accent I’ve ever heard, and trust me, if you knew my brother you’d realise how bad it must have been. And yet, I loved almost every minute of it. The garish yellow of the cabin was phenomenally tacky, and awesome. You couldn’t hear anything, oh the noise! I loved it. No idea why, I’m a sucker for shittyness.
Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t slept since I woke up at 12 yesterday. It’s now 7. That’s a grand total of 31 hours running on nothing but caffeine pills, coffee and sheer excitedness. Dublin is big. Not as big as London, but big enough for me to stand around looking up, drooling like a tourist. Which I guess I am. Cities are exciting. There’s so much just happening, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed and feel the need to smile at everything. And get lost. Now, considering I have managed to get lost in Hereford, a tiny tiny city, several times, I more or less left the airport, knowing that as soon as I got off the bus, I’d be lost. Even though Nanny told me where to go, explained it several times in fact, and I did listen, I’m just crap at directions. Luckily, Ireland is full of lovely lovely people, who seemingly have no problem helping silly oh’s like me find a bus stop that was just 5 minutes away from where I got off the Airport link. And I spent an hour looking for it. In the rain. In the complete opposite direction.
The Hilton is gorgeous. The pillows are fluffy, the duvets are filled with feathers, and the mattresses are like giant marshmallows. I can only assume of course, that marshmallows are as comfortable as they taste. But this is beyond the point. The Hilton gets top marks from me. And they gave me a a twin room, as opposed to a double bed. Because Christ only knows, I would have got so much more hassle than necessary had it been a double. Sodding gays.
I’ve spent the afternoon wandering around the Irish Museum of Modern Art, which is really cool. The entrance to it is literally across the road from the Hitlon, but cunningly, the actual museum itself is a 10 minute walk from the gate. The grounds were gorgeous though, and you could see all of Dublin from it. Or at least the top of Dublin, the high rises and all that. It was still quite pretty, and I wish I had taken my camera. On one side, it was like a ballet of cranes. All moving around and stuff. I’m too artsy fartsy for my own good sometimes. I spent 4 or 5 hours in the museum just looking at things. I really liked the photography exhibiton they had on. It was by two artists call McDermot and McGough, and they had used really old large format cameras and rarely used old fashioned techniques to develop their shots, which were in their own right, really modern. I liked it anyway. The whole building the exhibition was in was just lined with photographs. Woo and yay!
The underground of the main building was really cool as well. There were lots of photographs, and in the café, I had cheese and crackers, because I am so very cool. And Tiffin. I had Tiffin, because I was in Ireland, and that is the done thing.
The rest of the holiday was exciting, but only really when I was on my own. Prehaps it’s the part of me that is spoilt to my core, but when Tristan was around, it seemed to be all about him. But that’s all dealt with now, and I don’t want to dwell on. I realise now that I made a stupid mistake, but I’m not going to let that marr what was in reality, a fucking phenomenal trip. Excuse my language mum.
Temple Bar is perhaps one of the coolest places I have ever been. During the day, theres little book stalls, and smoothies, and it seems like it’s the kind of place all the cool kids hang. On that note, why have I never encountered Urban Outfitters before. That shop is amazing. I want to go back there. Or perhaps more intelligently, look to see if there are in fact, any in England. In the nights, theres always something a little special happening, Like the massive drum band. Maybe it’s actually a one off, and I picked a good time to visit, but it was very cool. And it’s always good to know that silly things like Chavs and Emo’s exist in other places, and they are equally as resentful of each other. The world is at peace.
I liked just wandering around as well, probably because the whole place was new. I remember when I moved to Hereford, and everything was new and exciting. I remember the first time I went to Morrisons, and it seemed mental to me that I would have to go there to do shopping all the time from now on. I don’t want Dublin to ever be the norm.. Then again, Dublin must be 5 times the size of Hereford, so I’d have a while.
The only real stand out, mentionworthy thing I did that wasn’t me just being all ‘wow! This is so cool’ Was the George. I met Irish friends, and I met drag queens. One thing that has stuck in my mind for some reason, is how blunt and unashamed the Irish are. I mean, Gerry Ryan is one good example, but he couldn’t prepare me for some of the things I heard during casual conversation. They throw around the N word like it’s no big deal, and part of me likes to think that’s a good thing. But equally, I’m hesistant to do it myself. Cultural differences in the working. It works for them though, and I guess that’s all that matters. This whole topic makes me very paranoid, but I’m not sure why. It feels like I’m being very judgemental, although I’m really not trying to be. If anything, I’m trying to be as open minded as I am. This feels like a paragraph I could delete, and no one would know it had even come into my mind, but that feels like I’m cheating myself, so it stays.
Anyway, the George was fantastic, I wound up part of a group made of Tristan and I, Robbie, James, Brian, Demi Whore (who’s real name I think was Danny), and two guys who’s names I have forgotten. I wound up being signed by Demi, and Robbie said something alongs the lines of, I must be pretty awesome, because it’s rare for a girls chest to be the centre of attention in a gay club. So there we go. Katie Osborne – Officially endorsed by the Dublin Gay Community.
I genuinely love it there though. It’s the nicest place I’ve ever been on Holiday too. I can’t say enough brilliant things about it. I swear, I’ve been gushing about it since I got back, and all I can think about is crazy plans to go back; I think it’s where I want to go for my birthday present Uncle Mike promised me. I mum does move there so I can have an excuse to go there. All the time.
Woo! Dublin!
First off, I want to talk about Planes. I remember when I was 9; I went to Florida with my family. The Plane was gorgeous, rows of seats, TV screens, and sweets to suck on to stop your ears popping. Ryan air offers none of these things, the seats are cramped, you have no leg space, no sweets, no complimentary drinks, no TV screens, and a voiceover of the in-flight safety demo in the dodgiest Irish accent I’ve ever heard, and trust me, if you knew my brother you’d realise how bad it must have been. And yet, I loved almost every minute of it. The garish yellow of the cabin was phenomenally tacky, and awesome. You couldn’t hear anything, oh the noise! I loved it. No idea why, I’m a sucker for shittyness.
Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t slept since I woke up at 12 yesterday. It’s now 7. That’s a grand total of 31 hours running on nothing but caffeine pills, coffee and sheer excitedness. Dublin is big. Not as big as London, but big enough for me to stand around looking up, drooling like a tourist. Which I guess I am. Cities are exciting. There’s so much just happening, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed and feel the need to smile at everything. And get lost. Now, considering I have managed to get lost in Hereford, a tiny tiny city, several times, I more or less left the airport, knowing that as soon as I got off the bus, I’d be lost. Even though Nanny told me where to go, explained it several times in fact, and I did listen, I’m just crap at directions. Luckily, Ireland is full of lovely lovely people, who seemingly have no problem helping silly oh’s like me find a bus stop that was just 5 minutes away from where I got off the Airport link. And I spent an hour looking for it. In the rain. In the complete opposite direction.
The Hilton is gorgeous. The pillows are fluffy, the duvets are filled with feathers, and the mattresses are like giant marshmallows. I can only assume of course, that marshmallows are as comfortable as they taste. But this is beyond the point. The Hilton gets top marks from me. And they gave me a a twin room, as opposed to a double bed. Because Christ only knows, I would have got so much more hassle than necessary had it been a double. Sodding gays.
I’ve spent the afternoon wandering around the Irish Museum of Modern Art, which is really cool. The entrance to it is literally across the road from the Hitlon, but cunningly, the actual museum itself is a 10 minute walk from the gate. The grounds were gorgeous though, and you could see all of Dublin from it. Or at least the top of Dublin, the high rises and all that. It was still quite pretty, and I wish I had taken my camera. On one side, it was like a ballet of cranes. All moving around and stuff. I’m too artsy fartsy for my own good sometimes. I spent 4 or 5 hours in the museum just looking at things. I really liked the photography exhibiton they had on. It was by two artists call McDermot and McGough, and they had used really old large format cameras and rarely used old fashioned techniques to develop their shots, which were in their own right, really modern. I liked it anyway. The whole building the exhibition was in was just lined with photographs. Woo and yay!
The underground of the main building was really cool as well. There were lots of photographs, and in the café, I had cheese and crackers, because I am so very cool. And Tiffin. I had Tiffin, because I was in Ireland, and that is the done thing.
The rest of the holiday was exciting, but only really when I was on my own. Prehaps it’s the part of me that is spoilt to my core, but when Tristan was around, it seemed to be all about him. But that’s all dealt with now, and I don’t want to dwell on. I realise now that I made a stupid mistake, but I’m not going to let that marr what was in reality, a fucking phenomenal trip. Excuse my language mum.
Temple Bar is perhaps one of the coolest places I have ever been. During the day, theres little book stalls, and smoothies, and it seems like it’s the kind of place all the cool kids hang. On that note, why have I never encountered Urban Outfitters before. That shop is amazing. I want to go back there. Or perhaps more intelligently, look to see if there are in fact, any in England. In the nights, theres always something a little special happening, Like the massive drum band. Maybe it’s actually a one off, and I picked a good time to visit, but it was very cool. And it’s always good to know that silly things like Chavs and Emo’s exist in other places, and they are equally as resentful of each other. The world is at peace.
I liked just wandering around as well, probably because the whole place was new. I remember when I moved to Hereford, and everything was new and exciting. I remember the first time I went to Morrisons, and it seemed mental to me that I would have to go there to do shopping all the time from now on. I don’t want Dublin to ever be the norm.. Then again, Dublin must be 5 times the size of Hereford, so I’d have a while.
The only real stand out, mentionworthy thing I did that wasn’t me just being all ‘wow! This is so cool’ Was the George. I met Irish friends, and I met drag queens. One thing that has stuck in my mind for some reason, is how blunt and unashamed the Irish are. I mean, Gerry Ryan is one good example, but he couldn’t prepare me for some of the things I heard during casual conversation. They throw around the N word like it’s no big deal, and part of me likes to think that’s a good thing. But equally, I’m hesistant to do it myself. Cultural differences in the working. It works for them though, and I guess that’s all that matters. This whole topic makes me very paranoid, but I’m not sure why. It feels like I’m being very judgemental, although I’m really not trying to be. If anything, I’m trying to be as open minded as I am. This feels like a paragraph I could delete, and no one would know it had even come into my mind, but that feels like I’m cheating myself, so it stays.
Anyway, the George was fantastic, I wound up part of a group made of Tristan and I, Robbie, James, Brian, Demi Whore (who’s real name I think was Danny), and two guys who’s names I have forgotten. I wound up being signed by Demi, and Robbie said something alongs the lines of, I must be pretty awesome, because it’s rare for a girls chest to be the centre of attention in a gay club. So there we go. Katie Osborne – Officially endorsed by the Dublin Gay Community.
I genuinely love it there though. It’s the nicest place I’ve ever been on Holiday too. I can’t say enough brilliant things about it. I swear, I’ve been gushing about it since I got back, and all I can think about is crazy plans to go back; I think it’s where I want to go for my birthday present Uncle Mike promised me. I mum does move there so I can have an excuse to go there. All the time.
Woo! Dublin!
Monday, 14 January 2008
It's Cold Outside, But It's Warm In Bed
Good old Wham!
They should definitely get back together. I'm going to buy a Wham T-shirt and everything.
SingStar is a big hit in our house. Almost good to a point of addiction. Today it even took precedence over Neighbours, and everyone who's anyone knows Neighbours is practically a religion in our house.
Anyway, on to photo's.
This is the back of ASDA. Not only is it a nice looking photo in an artsy fartsy kind of way, but it's a testament to how far I walked, and similarly to my overwhelming ability to not follow directions after ringing my parent's telling them I was lost.. Obviously, I'm safe in my room again. Even if I did get cold and soaked by the rain...
He looked lost, and it only seemed fair to document him. To help him. Obviously.
I don't know really what can be said about this. I could make a comment about society falling apart, yaddah, yaddah. But I'm not so into all that kind of thing.
There was a crucifix in a garden. Not a church or anything nearby. I just thought it was odd.. And kind of cool at the same time. The sign would have been way cooler if it said something hilarious and pun worthy. Alas, no such luck. Oh Swells.
I figure every good photographer needs a good under a bridge shot. So this is mine. And hopefully this will be the last one. Bridges are horrific in terms of lighting and such. The fact it was a dark and rainy afternoon probably didn't help.
Maybe it's just me who find's it odd, but almost every time I walk past a phonebox, someone seems to be in it. I had to wait a while for the people to leave to get this shot. I've never before seen so many phoneboxes occupied.. Maybe it's a city thing.
They should definitely get back together. I'm going to buy a Wham T-shirt and everything.
SingStar is a big hit in our house. Almost good to a point of addiction. Today it even took precedence over Neighbours, and everyone who's anyone knows Neighbours is practically a religion in our house.
Anyway, on to photo's.
This is the back of ASDA. Not only is it a nice looking photo in an artsy fartsy kind of way, but it's a testament to how far I walked, and similarly to my overwhelming ability to not follow directions after ringing my parent's telling them I was lost.. Obviously, I'm safe in my room again. Even if I did get cold and soaked by the rain...
He looked lost, and it only seemed fair to document him. To help him. Obviously.
I don't know really what can be said about this. I could make a comment about society falling apart, yaddah, yaddah. But I'm not so into all that kind of thing.
There was a crucifix in a garden. Not a church or anything nearby. I just thought it was odd.. And kind of cool at the same time. The sign would have been way cooler if it said something hilarious and pun worthy. Alas, no such luck. Oh Swells.
I figure every good photographer needs a good under a bridge shot. So this is mine. And hopefully this will be the last one. Bridges are horrific in terms of lighting and such. The fact it was a dark and rainy afternoon probably didn't help.
Maybe it's just me who find's it odd, but almost every time I walk past a phonebox, someone seems to be in it. I had to wait a while for the people to leave to get this shot. I've never before seen so many phoneboxes occupied.. Maybe it's a city thing.
Sunday, 6 January 2008
Spitting At Stars
An ode to Matthew - fixer of blog templates across the world.
Matthew is brilliant at doing things Kate cannot,
Because Kate is crap at coding and all that what not,
Good old Matthew, a hero amongst men,
Because of him my pictures, are the right size again,
So lets all sing and dance because Matt is so great,
He sorted this blog, that was cocked up by Kate.
Cheers Matt lovie.
xx
Matthew is brilliant at doing things Kate cannot,
Because Kate is crap at coding and all that what not,
Good old Matthew, a hero amongst men,
Because of him my pictures, are the right size again,
So lets all sing and dance because Matt is so great,
He sorted this blog, that was cocked up by Kate.
Cheers Matt lovie.
xx
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