tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732314937530086802024-03-05T10:11:24.247+00:00A Heart On A SleeveHow I Wear ItScrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.comBlogger286125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-21333394855720695692011-12-01T08:47:00.006+00:002011-12-01T10:34:40.890+00:00Done<span style="font-family:arial;">OK. I've done it. Created a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">WordPress</span> blog. I really don't want to leave blogger but I feel as though my siblings might have stumbled across this one and well, I want to be able to write freely without them knowing everything there is to know. So password protecting those posts which divulge just a little too much is better than <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">privating</span> the whole blog.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I've moved. To </span><a href="http://scrumpyandherheart.wordpress.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">here</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">. Please could you update your blog rolls and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">rss</span> feeds and other stuff that I don't really get!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It is a work in progress but I <em>really</em> need to publish a certain post!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Blogger - for allowing to me to say what I wanted when I needed to - thank you.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"><strong>ETA: Email me (with your blogging pseudonym because chances are I won't know you by your real names - <a href="mailto:scrumpulicious@hotmail.co.uk">scrumpulicious@hotmail.co.uk</a>) for the password or leave a comment with your email address.</strong></span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-45989759751044042742011-11-28T11:38:00.000+00:002011-11-28T11:39:20.695+00:00Moving<span style="font-family:arial;">To Wordpress. So I can password protect my posts! But in the interim, I might just go private for a little while.</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-1173009732774493202011-11-23T15:22:00.001+00:002011-11-23T15:25:26.273+00:00Tell Me Off<span style="font-family:arial;">Can somebody please tell my hormones to control themselves?!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It's only a matter of time before I throw myself at somebody!</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-69377874979341378722011-11-22T13:28:00.003+00:002011-11-22T13:33:35.123+00:00A Little Hope Yet<span style="font-family:arial;">It's confirmed. I am not hideous. Something which I questioned irrefutably this weekend (refer to </span><a href="http://scrumpulicious.blogspot.com/2009/01/post-might-give-you-too-much.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">this</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">!) and the last few weekends actually.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">A HOT guy asked me for my number on Sunday. It's been so long since I've actually been asked for my number, I forgot what it feels like. That feeling of "wow, you think I'm attractive?" followed by "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">awww</span>, you think I'm attractive!".</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">A very nice boost to the ego which was in desperate need of boosting.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">know</span> you're all going to ask whether I gave it to him or not. I haven't yet. Because. I have issues. </span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-57365693995978852042011-11-18T10:23:00.001+00:002011-11-18T10:30:15.364+00:00And The Gig Whore Lives On<span style="font-family:arial;">Rihanna - O2 Arena 21 December 2011</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Coldplay - Emirates Stadium 01 June 2012</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Because old </span><a href="http://scrumpulicious.blogspot.com/2010/05/being-friends-with-gigwhore.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">habits</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> die hard!</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-32434935577278892572011-11-15T08:55:00.002+00:002011-11-15T08:58:05.973+00:00Introductions Continued..<span style="font-family:arial;">From </span><a href="http://scrumpulicious.blogspot.com/2011/11/introductions.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">here</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">.<br /><br />So coffee. I was waiting patiently – <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">AJ</span> was running late. As a Tamil, we are renowned for our tardiness and I refuse to fall into this category which means I get to places ridiculously early. About 15 minutes go by when I feel someone hovering over my shoulder – <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">AJ</span>! He kind of just nods his head at me and then walks to meet me (he <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">wasn</span>’t actually in the coffee shop you see). He comes in and says hello and sits down at the table. Immediately, I am aware of the height difference. <strong>*crap*</strong> is what I am thinking to myself.<br />He asks me what I want to drink and goes over to join the queue. At which time, I see a “friend” (I use the term loosely – we are acquaintances more so than friends) of mine and his wife in the queue. They don’t see me and I pretend to be busy on my phone. I mean, I really don’t want them to see me. And so I’m busy busy busy on my phone at which point my “friend” comes over to say hi. And proceeds to chat to me (which is very sweet and endearing of him – because he is genuinely a nice guy!), asks me what I’m doing there. I could hardly tell him I’m on a blind date so I feebly mumble that I’m meeting a friend. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">AJ</span> is still in the queue and I can feel him watching this whole scene. Thankfully my “friend” and his wife leave before <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">AJ</span> gets back to the table with our drinks.<br /><br />As <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">AJ</span> sits down, I check out his attire – especially his shoes. For me, I think shoes <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">maketh</span> an outfit and you can tell a lot about a man by the shoes that he wears. Luckily for him, his shoes passed the test. As we sit, conversation flows. The height difference drifts to the back of my mind and I’m not as conscious of it as I was when I saw him. We talk about our families, my “friend”, and just general chit chat. It’s light hearted, fun and easy – just the kind of conversations I like.<br /><br />Unfortunately, I was working so the meeting was fleet. He offered to walk me back to my car (which I thought was very sweet) and to which I agreed. But it <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">didn</span>’t work out in his favour – I think he came up to my chin <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">btu</span> I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">could be</span> over exaggerating this.<br /><br />Getting in my car, I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">over analysed</span> the situation. Nice guy. But short. Nice personality. But short. Could it work? Perhaps. But he’s short! I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">didn</span>’t think anything more of the situation as work consumed me.<br /><br />After work, he called me and we spoke briefly – inane chit chat. Apparently a sign that he was keen (considering he called me the same day!).<br /><br />He also called Monday – our ritual in this brief space of time being that he calls me as I drive home. And I find out that he has told his mum about me. <strong>*shock*</strong> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Erm</span>.. I do start to stutter a little as I feel as though he’s trying to pin me down into a corner. I think his exact phrase was “if you’re <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">ok</span> with it, I’m <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">ok</span> with it” – With what exactly?<br /><br />I was under the impression I would be allowed to get to know you – not that you would expect me to marry you just because we get on. I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">didn</span>’t tell him this though. No. Because I’m a coward. Especially when it comes to <s>breaking people’s hearts</s> saying no to people.<br />The issue is avoided and we part amicably. He calls on Tuesday as I drive home from work, and asks me what I’m feeling. This time, I tell him that he’s a nice guy, but I still don’t know him well enough to commit to anything. To which he replies “are you just stringing me along?”. By this point, alarm bells are ringing at the back of my head. “He’s not giving you any time!!” the voice screams at me.<br /><br />So I say no, I just don’t know you well enough. And he asks me how long until you do? I can’t give you a time span. What will be will be.<br /><br />And we are now at Wednesday. I want to point out that we have not even known each other for a week. As I’m driving home, I’m on the phone to B. Just talking. He calls and I see the call waiting but I’ll call him back. So he calls again. And I ignore it. And so 20 minutes later he calls again. By this point he has called me 3 times in the space of 30 minutes. I go home, ignore the calls and spend time with my siblings. In the space of 2 hours, he called me 6 times. SIX TIMES! When I call him back, the conversation goes like this (all on his part)<br /><br />“How come you <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">didn</span>’t answer?”, “Where were you?”, “Why <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">didn</span>’t you call me?”, “Where have you been?”. My mind is screaming “<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">WTF</span>?!”. But I fob him off with an excuse that I was tired and busy. It’s been a long time since I have had to answer to anybody. But after one week? Are you crazy?! Complete and utter turn off. But I still don’t write him off completely. I sought the advice of friends and spent a long time talking about it with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error">Amma</span>. I decide to give him another shot. Because I have to at least try.<br /><br />Unfortunately for him, his obsessive behaviour did not go down well with my parents. If he’s like this now, what would he have been like after marriage. And <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error">Appa</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error">wasn</span>’t entirely happy with his profession – the uncertainty of regular income.<br />And so the proposal was rejected. And I’m back where I started.<br /><br />But say I don’t find anyone else? That’s what’s scary. </span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-2275182728011366192011-11-11T15:27:00.002+00:002011-11-11T15:29:17.837+00:00Welcomed Addition<span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>B</strong> gave birth to a baby boy today at 12:16. 8lbs 8oz.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Healthy and beautiful.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mr & Mrs B will make amazing parents - of that I have no doubt.</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-30062051817285754782011-11-09T16:13:00.002+00:002011-11-09T16:18:02.746+00:00When Road Rage Doesn't Pay<span style="font-family:arial;">This morning as I was close to work, a car blitzed by on my right and tried to cut everybody up. And you all know <a href="http://scrumpulicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/amma-isms.html">how I feel about this</a>. But because nobody else gave him, I was kind and i did. And he had the audacity to not acknowledge me or say thank you after I gave him way. This obviously pissed me off because:</span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>a)</strong> He was in the wrong. Everyone else was waiting and he decided to be a wanker and cut everybody up.<br /><strong>b)</strong> I had the common courtesy to give you way, the least you can do is say thanks.<br /><br />So I flashed my lights at him to which he acknowledged me and put his hand up as a symbol of thanks. I nodded as he looked at me in his rear view mirror.<br /><br />Nothing more was thought of it, until I saw his car behind me as I took the exit onto our business park. Again, not that big a deal as there a load of companies on the business park. And then I saw him indicate the same time I did to turn into the same building as I do.<br /><br />Oh shit – he works with me.<br /><br />And the moral of this story? Try not to get road rage (<a href="http://colomborantings.blogspot.com/2011/11/probably-shouldnt-have.html">or any kind of rage</a>) close to your workplace!</span></p>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-60369307362822545102011-11-09T09:39:00.003+00:002011-11-09T09:41:26.398+00:00Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures<span style="font-family:arial;">SARAH!!!!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Can I have permission to read your <a href="http://desperatesarah.blogspot.com/">blog</a> please?!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Sorry for the overdramatics (is that even a word?!) but I had no other way to contact you! :)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"><strong>*blush*</strong></span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-19275665954182124092011-11-07T16:25:00.003+00:002011-11-07T16:30:52.958+00:00Science Geek<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-c4rEfjKNlI0e6ptaEvuFZZP-GeYTqRgv-Bl1hDjfA8XLIUe8kihIBv9L1AoLIlV6LMKWAocPKQEliwgRsTIn9uTt0ynj_GN9bz-8CbJa5zlg1DbPMayropL1qeQQ3qHRiqyqwz8iP4/s1600/curie11-hp.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 102px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672290974058170226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-c4rEfjKNlI0e6ptaEvuFZZP-GeYTqRgv-Bl1hDjfA8XLIUe8kihIBv9L1AoLIlV6LMKWAocPKQEliwgRsTIn9uTt0ynj_GN9bz-8CbJa5zlg1DbPMayropL1qeQQ3qHRiqyqwz8iP4/s320/curie11-hp.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Science geek and proud (Marie Curies 144th Birthday today!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I love it when <a href="http://www.google.co.uk/">Google</a> does </span><a href="http://scrumpulicious.blogspot.com/2011/03/chemist-in-me.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">doodles relating to Science</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> and geeky things! :)</span></div>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-85503970085962162292011-11-03T08:56:00.001+00:002011-11-03T09:01:11.063+00:00Introductions<span style="font-family:arial;">Being of South Asian origin can be hard. Despite growing up in a western country and being influenced by western cultures, there’s still a lot that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">doesn</span>’t transfer across to South Asian culture.<br /><br />When you asked people of my generation when we were kids what we wanted to be when we grew up, it was always the typical response; “doctor”, “engineer”, “dentist”, “lawyer” – the jobs that people – parents/family wanted you to be. And for most people, I can understand why this was. My parents worked hard in a foreign country to give their kids the best education they could and for them to have (perhaps unfairly deemed by Asian society) the best vocation.<br /><br />And so the circle of life flows, you go to school, university, graduate, get a job, become financially stable and then inevitably thoughts toward your own family – a husband, children, grandchildren(!).<br /><br />Sure, people have relationships, but it’s still very uncommon for people to live together before marriage. Not taboo – but definitely not the way things are done. And maybe in generations to come this will change – but not in mine.<br /><br />I have seen a few of my closest friends get married over the last couple of years and so has my mother. And I think this is why she insists on seeing me married sometime soon.<br /><br />A family friend introduced me to this guy. Before he told me about him, he said that he was one inch shorter than me. Height has always been a thing for. But I have also said, that if I find somebody who has every other desirable quality I’m looking but is that little bit shorter than me then I will not let it get in the way. And with that I agreed to talk to this guy (let’s call him <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">AJ</span>). <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">AJ</span> and I spoke last week for the first time. And we agreed to meet up on the Sunday (just gone). A very fleeting coffee meeting because he was late and I had to rush off to work......</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">(I actually have to get back to work so I'll carry on a little bit... )</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-53515713065233085352011-10-31T10:10:00.002+00:002011-10-31T10:12:40.134+00:00The Lesser of Two Evils<span style="font-family:arial;">Marrying someone you're not in love with to escape an alcoholic parent?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">or</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Living with an alcoholic parent and wait to marry someone you love?</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-16185475338526868572011-10-25T11:03:00.002+01:002011-10-25T11:04:34.458+01:00Isn't It Funny<span style="font-family:arial;">How life has a way of reminding you of things you want to forget?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Facebook news feeds. With the profile of your wife.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I must have really pissed off Karma.</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-52179118483524362752011-10-06T11:16:00.004+01:002011-10-06T11:25:52.664+01:00Steven Paul Jobs - Creative Genuis<span style="font-family:arial;">I am saddened by the </span><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-15193922"><span style="font-family:arial;">death of Steve Jobs</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">.<br /><br />I remember my first brush with Apple. 11 years old and my school library’s computer was a mac. I was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">soooo</span> confused by this technology. It <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">wasn</span>’t anything I was used to. And I remember not using the computer again.<br />As I got older, I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">didn</span>’t hear much about macs and Apple and Microsoft continued with their domination of the my IT world.<br />It <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">wasn</span>’t until I got older and bought my first <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">iPod</span> that Apple entered my life again. Music has always been important to me and the fact that I had this device (with what would go on to become trademark white earphones) that allowed me to arrange my music, buy music so readily – well what more could I ask for?<br /><br />And then the I purchased the iPhone and I haven’t looked back since. Our house is an Apple house. Maybe I bought into the consumerism of it all but I'm not ashamed.<br /><br />Steve Jobs created a company but more importantly created a brand. Smart phones, computers and technology in general – all considered “cool” because of one brand. Gone are the days when geeks and technology went hand in hand.<br /><br />In his own words<br />"Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">else's</span> life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice."<br /><br />A cruel and tragic loss to the world. A true visionary who I truly believe wanted the best for his consumers.<br /><br />The </span><a href="http://www.apple.com/stevejobs/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Apple website</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> could not have put it any better. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">RIP Steve Jobs - February 24, 1955 – October 5, 2011.</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-6014755619074514782011-09-26T20:10:00.000+01:002011-09-26T20:10:13.946+01:00Confession<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack! With far too many pictures and a few blog posts to write. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today was supposed to be my first day back at work. But I went to see B yesterday and stayed the night and this morning she convinced me to call in sick. Which I did. I've never done that! I feel so guilty. The worse part though is lying to my family about how my day at work was! I even changed into my work outfit before I left B's so that they wouldn't suspect anything!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm going to hell!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However, she did ask me to be her baby's Godmother so I can't be <strike>all</strike> that bad.</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-59836154459753214702011-09-01T13:00:00.002+01:002011-09-01T13:01:24.374+01:00I'll Be Back<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This time tomorrow I will be on a flight to Kuala Lumpur for 4 nights followed by 16 nights in and around Sydney. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><strong>WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!</strong></span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-21884867826038239832011-08-29T15:22:00.003+01:002011-08-29T15:32:00.882+01:00Eye CandyThere is a guy who comes into the shop where I work (part time) who is so hot is hurts. Seriously, it physically hurts me. Every time I see him, I <s>kinda</s> turn into jelly. And we've started flirting. Which I know won't end well! But he's soooo HOT. He looks like Pharell Willams. But hotter.
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<br />God Damn! Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-27242508653996950352011-08-22T08:54:00.003+01:002011-08-22T09:01:55.510+01:00Geographical Nonsense!<iframe height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/BiEEJds8JFE" frameborder="0" width="560"></iframe>
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<br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The above video came on the TV the other day as my siblings and I were watching one of those famous music channels. We do like The Wanted - especially since there is one guy who's half Tamil (helps that he's easy on the eye as well!).
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<br />Brother: "Best thing to come out of Ireland since Westlife".
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<br />Me: "Are they all Irish then?"
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<br />Brother: "YES!"
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<br />Me: *quick Google search on my phone (because I Google <strong><em>everything</em></strong>!)*
<br />"Erm.. they're not all Irish".
<br />
<br />And then I read him </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wanted#Members"><span style="font-family:arial;">this</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">.
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<br />Clearly we're very ignorant! :)</span>
<br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span>
<br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">But it did make me smile. Especially at how sure sounding he was!</span>
<br />Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-91203423199025553562011-08-09T15:24:00.002+01:002011-08-09T15:33:46.509+01:00Emotions<span style="font-family:arial;">Shame. Disbelief. Anger. Tearful. Disgust. Pride. Just a few of the emotions that I am feeling today.
<br />
<br />No doubt you will have seen or heard about the <a href="http://www.google.co.uk/#q=london+riots&hl=en&prmd=ivnsu&source=lnms&tbm=nws&ei=-kNBTuiuC4O0hAfzuISgCQ&sa=X&oi=mode_link&ct=mode&cd=4&ved=0CCIQ_AUoAw&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.&fp=17e5d65ef3830d5f&biw=1280&bih=789">riots taking place in London</a>.
<br />I was supposed to work last night in north west London but they called me to cancel my shift because they were closing down stores as a precaution.
<br />
<br />I spent the next three hours glued to my TV and reading F<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">acebook</span> status updates and twitter.
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<br />There are two main implications as to why these riots have started:
<br />i) </span><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-14452496"><span style="font-family:arial;">Off of the back</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> of the </span><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-14423942"><span style="font-family:arial;">police shooting of Mark <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Duggan</span> </span></a>
<br /><span style="font-family:arial;">ii) The cuts imposed by the government leading to a lack of facilities for these youths.
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<br /><strong>Shame</strong> – I am ashamed to think that those rioting are fellow Londoners. I am a Londoner – born and bred. I am very proud of my city. I am very proud of the fact that so many different cultures can live together so closely with little animosity. I am proud that it is a city that despite the hardships we face, its people get up and continue with their livelihoods. But these mindless yobs are a disgrace to everything that London stands for.
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<br /><strong>Disbelief</strong> – How is it that these Neanderthals think that this is acceptable behaviour? They’re not doing this to avenge the death of Mark <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Duggan</span> – the majority of them won’t even know who he is. If anything, his death is in vain if these are the consequences. The <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-14453918">pictures and scenes of violence</a> leave me open mouthed. There is no need for this kind of behaviour. Disbelief because I have heard people criticise the Metropolitan Police and the London Fire brigade. Are you fucking kidding me?! They put their lives at risk over the last few days (and I’m not sure it’s over yet!). The riots were all over London. The police and the fire brigade did their very best to respond to all calls I’m sure but we has a city have to be that little bit understanding.
<br />I refuse to believe that there is a social class aspect to this. I am of working class. I grew up in a poor borough of London but I know how to behave. I regularly went without but to this day, I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">wouldn</span>’t steal anything to get what I want. If you want something, you should work for it.
<br />I also refuse to believe that this is because of a lack of respect towards young people. We were all young once. I know young people and I can safely say that I have never been inclined to behave like this. The young people I know do not behave like this. If you behave like you demonstrated last night you will not get any respect off of me. You reap what you sow and your actions last night will have led to the worst karma you can possibly receive.
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<br /><strong>Anger</strong> – I am angry. How the fuck is it that we stood by and let this happen? If every law abiding citizen in their town took to the streets and threw the missiles back at these louts, maybe they’d see sense. I’m angry at the response by the British Government. In my organisation of 24000, I am not allowed to take annual leave at the same time as my counterparts. So how can the Prime Minister, the Deputy Prime Minister, the Mayor of London and pretty much all those who run our country go on holiday at the same time?! What took Mr Cameron so long to return? As soon as there were burning buildings in London – someone should have shown some leadership and given the city some guidance. I’m angry that the police are not allowed to beat the shit out of these <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">fuckwits</span>.
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<br /><strong>Tearful</strong> – There were riots in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lewisham</span> & <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Croydon</span> yesterday. Places very close to my heart for a variety of reasons. It saddens me deeply to see not just these places but London in flames. It’s made me teary to see the innocent shops and livelihoods lost due to sheer yob culture and mob mentality. It saddens me that if this is how some of the youth behave today, what hope is there for the future of this country?
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<br /><strong>Disgust</strong> – How are they capable of the mindset that burning buildings is the way forward? What can they possibly achieve from that? You’re shitting in your own front yards you fucking idiots!
<br />I am disgusted by the parents of these fuckers. Were you just sitting at home watching them create this havoc? How can you be proud of this kind of behaviour? If your kid <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">wasn</span>’t at home after 10:00 last night – find out where they were and do the right thing. If they were even a smidgen involved – take the appropriate actions. I don’t see why you would protect fuckers with that kind of mentality. Give parents more powers to discipline their kids. We are close to becoming that much more of a nanny state. When I was younger, if I was doing something wrong, my parents had a <em>look</em>. Just being given the <em>look</em> was enough for me to stop what I was doing, apologise and go to my room. Because I knew the consequences if I didn't!</span>
<br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The parents of these fuckers should also be made an example of of. They haven't raised children, they've raised savages.
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<br /><strong>Pride</strong> – I am proud of the camaraderie of Londoners. I am proud that we get up and we go about our daily business. I am proud that the behaviour shown by those last night is not representative of a whole generation. I am proud that <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-14456857">Londoners are coming together to start the long cleanup process</a>. I am proud that we are not and will not bow down to this thuggish behaviour by these ignorant fuckers. I refuse to call them young people – they are an embarrassment to them.
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<br />They say that society has failed them. That the police have failed them – the targets of unnecessary stop and searches. That schools fail them. That the government have failed them. But that’s bollocks. Their parents failed them. But with these actions, they’<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">ve</span> failed themselves more than any other aspect could have. </span>
<br />Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-33998555113361639342011-08-03T08:29:00.003+01:002011-08-03T08:41:47.218+01:00Closure<span style="font-family:arial;">After </span><a href="http://scrumpulicious.blogspot.com/2011/05/blowing-up-in-my-face.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">this</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">, I knew the wedding was looming. So every so often I would check the website again to see if they had your wedding photos up. And lo and behold they do now. A little stalker-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">ish</span> I know but that wasn't my intention.<br /><br />I definitely now have complete closure. It still hurts because I invested so much time in "us" and obviously you chose somebody else. But there's so much that you can't offer me. The wedding looks like a nice affair. Not how I would have done it but nice <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">nonetheless</span>. Your outfit was probably the wrong choice - it makes you look fat and that's not meant in a spiteful way but you've clearly put on weight. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">We're definitely done.</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-89458278954024927782011-07-27T16:23:00.000+01:002011-07-27T16:25:00.978+01:00Tamil Diaspora to Blame?!<a href="http://www.srilankaguardian.org/2011/07/boomerang-on-norway.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">Really?!</span></a>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-72271200082273952742011-07-20T16:08:00.001+01:002011-07-20T16:31:30.135+01:00The 'Dam<span style="font-family:arial;">Some people <s>know</s> think that I am <a href="http://scrumpulicious.blogspot.com/2009/11/musically-challenged-deux.html">musically challenged</a>. I’m also <a href="http://scrumpulicious.blogspot.com/2009/03/from-one-legend-to-another.html">very unlucky at scoring tickets to concerts I want to see</a>.<br /><br />So when Take That (complete with Robbie Williams!) announced their tour dates and I found out I would be in Germany at the time they went on sale, I knew I had no hope but was optimistic nonetheless. Leaving strict instructions with my siblings to endeavour to get some, I thought this would be my time. But no. It <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">wasn</span>’t.<br /><br />So when their European tickets went on sale, I said I was getting some and that would be that! And I did. I managed to secure 3 tickets to their concert in Amsterdam at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Amstel</span> Arena (Ajax’s football stadium which was enough in itself to excite me!). And then Take That went and announced more tour dates in Britain – my luck is so bad it’s not worth talking about.<br /><br />However, Amsterdam 2011 was planned and I have just returned from what was an amazing trip (no illegal substances pun intended). There was a little scare when I heard <a href="http://www.metro.co.uk/music/869528-take-that-cancel-show-after-robbie-williams-hit-by-food-poisoning">this</a> but thankfully Monday night <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">RW</span> stepped onto the stage and pretty much smashed the ball out of the park vocally.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">TT</span> were incredible. The show production was amazing and the atmosphere inside the venue was electric. There are no words that can do it justice.<br /><br />But it <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">wasn</span>’t just the show. It was the fact that I spent 4 days with my siblings enjoying stupid jokes, eating crappy food, relishing the crap weather and watching <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1593756/">Outsourced</a> (which you must watch – I love Gupta!).<br /><br />I will post some photos (not that I took many) but just a quick post to explain for the absence.<br /><br />Coming back to work to a shitload of emails is the worst thing about going on holiday though! </span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-38107346154916920202011-07-08T12:01:00.001+01:002011-07-08T12:03:53.340+01:00Crap - Literally!<span style="font-family:arial;">If you're going to use a public toilet, at least have the decency to lock the door so I don't walk in on you!</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-38128550213232665132011-07-06T13:58:00.001+01:002011-07-06T14:00:23.171+01:00Circles<span style="font-family:arial;">“S and I are meeting B & A for brunch – come!” arrives the text from R.<br /><br />And I am engulfed in loneliness.<br /><br />It’s tough being single amongst couples.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;">*"Enough with the pity party" - this is what I keep telling myself!*</span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73231493753008680.post-8554589917201655522011-06-30T09:41:00.001+01:002011-06-30T09:41:59.261+01:00Broken English<span style="font-family:arial;">My dad is slightly sick. He’s been given a cold and he’s also developed some kind of pain in his upper arm.<br /><br />Last night he was talking to my mum and I heard her start laughing.<br /><br />“Why didn’t you say Andy Murray then?!”<br /><br />Apparently my dad was saying “Anty Mortay” which my mum interpreted as “antibiotics” and she only cottoned on that he didn’t mean antibiotics when he said the word tennis.<br /><br />Slightly worrying because my dad has lived in the country now for nearly 40 years! :S </span>Scrumpshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17989544854497191897noreply@blogger.com1