Cotswold Man Versus Pheasant

So, I’m minding my own business the other day, working from home (as per usual), when I go into the kitchen to grab a coffee and spot this in the garden.

Having a spare minute or two between meetings, I pop outside to take a better look.

Just as surreal an explanation as expected. But still.

I went back to my work laptop and assumed that would be the end of that, that nothing would come of this Robinson Crusoe pheasant trap.

Half an hour (max.) later…

And a little time later still…

Unbelievable.

Shaking my head with disbelief, I bring myself back to my laptop to try and actually get some work done.

“Alice, come with me to drop off this pheasant,’ Papa B says.

“But I’ve got my next meeting in 15 minutes.”

“Well then, hurry up and get your shoes on.”

(Classic family reaction to anything of the sort. Cotswold drama > work.)

He loads the car up with the wheelie bin:

And off we go to calmly release the bird into a wooded spot up the hill.

And now, for the big finish.

We drive back down and I get back into the house just in time to join my work meeting, nobody any the wiser of the craziness that has just gone down.

What can I say? Lockdown just got weirder.

(Important disclaimer – no animals were harmed during this process. The pheasant was humanely released into the wild, flying away without injury. We stayed for a short while after the release to be certain of the animal’s welfare. He was long gone, in fact a week later the peasant actually came back. So there you go, what a success that turned out to be.)

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Time to Clear Out the Cookies

Minding my own business on emails (aka clearing out my junk folder, because, you know, what else is there to do right now?)

Anyway, I was doing that when something on the side bar caught my eye. This, the side bar which is always filled by random advertisements. For example, I’ve been invited to take out over 50s life insurance for far too long…a product of my enjoyment of Classic FM perhaps; other times it’s linked to the websites I’ve been loitering on.

Amazon, eBay, that Scientology website I once browsed at stupid o’clock. Even if the targeted adverts are sometimes questionable, it’s rare I look at these and go “where the Hell did that come from?” I’ve yet to take out the insurance, and last time I checked I hadn’t joined a cult…I think…

Right, so, what’s the point of all this preamble, you say? Well, despite all of the above, one day I got this in the side bar:

No, that’s it. Nothing more below, save the rest of the boot-shoe.

I mean…what?

First off, how are any of these items linked? Hosiery/half a mannequin (I’ll be honest, I don’t know which it is), a balaclava and two types of shoe? It’s honestly the most mixed-up selection of clothing items one could buy, let alone for a lockdown fatkins like me.

Secondly, and probably the bigger question I should be asking, WHY AM I GETTING THIS?

I’m a lazy sod who hasn’t had a need for football boots since I played hockey for the school team in 2009. Plus, I couldn’t give a rat’s patootie what my rat’s patootie looks like. (I’ve just revisited that image, it looks like shapewear in the first thumbnail.)

Ain’t no shapewear containing this level of awesome!

Alright Kim…

So, the million cent question, did I click on the link to learn more, or possibly even purchase some of these dazzling products?

No.

Am I however now racing to go back through all my browsing history and clearing out the tracking cookies. It has lead me to wonder though, have I been hacked by the Scientologists?

I mean, it would certainly explain the randomness of items (can you understand a word he’s saying?)

Also, Tom Cruise.

(I think I’m going to like inserting this sound effect into my work very much.)

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Donating – A Quick Update

First off, a massive thank you to everyone who has given me monetary donations to support some of the, quite frankly, kooky writing I do, even though no one ever really asked for it. Mumma B is baffled (really; she often asks me what people are on).

While I was always aware of the fees incurred by the Buy Me a Coffee (BMC) website/platform, aka the money they take out of your donations as admin, I wasn’t quite aware of the competitive alternatives.

After conducting research, I’ve decided (at least for now) to switch my funding platform to Ko-fi. Unlike BMC, Ko-fi doesn’t charge fees for handling donations (the company make their money from users paying for “gold” subscriptions and hahahaha if they think I’m going to be doing that anytime soon!)

This is why the link at the bottom of my posts will now refer to Ko-fi.

On Ko-fi I still pay PayPal fees, but no platform costs = more money for moi. Understood? Great.

Look! I even recycled this super high-brow video to convince would-be donors who happen on my funding page:

I used to dabble in video editing/production back when I was at University, you know? No, really, I did. I used to love meddling about with film equipment, me. And, even after all these years, I think it really shows. #TeamWindowsMovieMaker

(Even if you don’t watch the video, the thumbnail should sell my charity case by itself.)

Again, this doesn’t diminish what I’ve been donated so far. I’d rather be given £1 on BMC than nothing at all. My BMC page will continue to exist and if you have a burning desire to donate there instead, a) might want to get that checked out, but in all seriousness, b) go ahead.

As per usual a quick update has turned into me rambling and now I’m telling you to get that rash looked at by a doctor. Wonderful.

Oh and PS, in return I’m going to start making a point of thanking people for donations – on social media, possibly here if source material gets tight (it’s a wonder to us all that a year into a pandemic I’m still finding shizz to type about). If you’re a bit shy you can always donate anonymously. (You’ll be like the secret valentine I never had.)

Argh, going off topic again! In short, give me your money and give it to me on Ko-fi. Thanks!

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My Sister, On…

This post is dedicated to my lovely little sister, Bubba B.

It’s also dedicated to my old photo achieves I’ve been trawling through with zero regard to common decency. She let me take these photographs, she knew what she was signing herself up to five/six years later.

(At least that’s what my lawyers will say.)

*Cough* anyway, here we go.

My Sister, On…

My Sister, On…Contemporary Art

My Sister, On…Prehistory

(My Sister, On…World Domination of Prehistory)

My Sister, On…Geology

India On…Hipster Coffee

My Sister, On…Making Friends

My Sister, On…Interior Design

My Sister, On…Cultural Portrayals of the Female Body

My Sister, On…Wine Tasting

My Sister, On…Home Removals

My Sister, On…Interpretive Dance

My Sister, On…Travel

My Sister, On…Motivational Talks

(And finally – for now) My Sister, On…Questionable Photography

There you have it! Stay awesome, sister of the sea.

(PS, because no one is perfect…)

Alice On…Literature(?)

Yeah, I’ve no idea either.

(There may be an “Alice On…” sequel, or two, coming soon.)

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Why Alice is *Still* Single…Probably

Candles, erosion excitement and a scurvy-inducing diet, we’ve got all the reasons (and more) why I’ve quite possibly still yet to become one half of a “smug couple”.

Why Alice is Still Single…Probably

First Things First

  • I can’t help that a pandemic happened.
  • I don’t proactively choose to shun humans (Yeah, I’ll call up my insurance firm now. “Hello, I’d like to record my profession as ‘Aspirational Spinster’ please? What do you mean, that’ll increase my premium?”)
  • Although, for the benefit of reassurance, I am attracted to humans.

(But I am also attracted to that part of YouTube.)

I’ve Made My Memory Foam Bed, and it Serves me Well

I live where I live and do what I do. And before you give me that Sliding Doors baloney, “if only you’d taken that fictional job somewhere else, then maybe things would be different”, I mean, sure but…

A) Not God.

B) There are loads of amazing things I’d have missed out on.

C) I lived in London for a year and guess what? Despite getting my bag stuck in the Tube countless times and missing countless more trains altogether, John Hannah still didn’t show up and I’m still not Gwyneth Paltrow.

(But at least my accent isn’t that grating.)

My Cooking is Beyond Questionable

Case in point, I routinely eat leftover Chinese with pasta. I call it “East Meets West” (no, really, I do).

I know what you’re thinking and yes, I am the kind of girl who brings a stapler and a rack of business cards to dinner (and you thought the Chinese was hot stuff).

As a rule of thumb, the dishes I cook involve three ingredients. E.g. scrambled eggs: eggs (no milk), bread, butter for bread. Soup: tin of soup, bread, butter for bread. Chips, fish fingers, peas.

I also routinely snack on dry cream crackers.

#NoShame

I’m Not in the Market of Being Someone I’m Not

I’m so out of habit with makeup I barely wear it nowadays. The idea of putting all this stuff on my face to create something to satisfy everyone but me just doesn’t do anything for me (you can’t see your own face after all).

Looking at this from a positive angle, this is presently the worst I’m ever going to get:

*Well, excluding when I’m chilling out in the back of Shoreditch clubs.

Moving on…

Everything Excites Me…But Men

Things like having David Nicholls, author of One Day, like my Tweet:

(Reason .5 for staying single – I like using words like golly)

I also like seeing the effects of coastal erosion on tiny pebbles:

Longshore drift is a thing y’all.

Even these socks with one of my favourite Picasso paintings, they got me excited:

I didn’t even care they only were available in a men’s size. Why? Because I’m now the proud owner of Picasso socks. Duh.

It doesn’t take much to get me excited, but on the downside, it doesn’t take much to get me excited. I don’t need a guy to be the *sole* provider of my joy…unless you have Picasso socks. And yes, pun intended.

I Have Awesome Friends

Doesn’t everyone bring hand sanitiser and a banking card reader to their girls’ night in calls?

Granted, things are a smidge surreal at the moment, but I still have my girl (and guy) friends. And if I can’t meet up with them in real life, I still can connect with them digitally.

Dressing up and dancing around my bedroom, it’s like the teenage years I never had. Back when I was too busy wearing jeans and playing about with hair straighteners and knives.

Oh, Cotswolds, you do crack me up.

Nb, that was taken on my eighteenth birthday. Disney need to do a rerun of that film, 13 Going on 30.

We’ll call it 30 Going on 13, and it’ll be 90 minutes of me struggling to comprehend water installations in urban environments:

Ten years on and I’m still trying to work them out.

Hmm, I think we’ve gone a bit off topic somewhere around here. What were we discussing, again? Oh yeah, why I’m single.

Me, Myself and I; We’ve got Our Own Thaang Going on

*cough*

This is How I Dress

This is How I React to Confusing Things

I Already Have an Interim Solution, and it’s a Candle

I can’t quite fathom how Glade have done this, but I swear this candle smells like a ‘best of’ man collection. It’s kinda musky and has a nice cologne-like secondary smell. I think it’s a honey and chocolate combo.

I can’t share the smell, but trust me, it’s solid. And no, I’m not backing down on this.

And Then There Are the Creeps

Ooh! Bear with, just got a new match.

Right, let’s open this up…

Ah.

In Summary

Your best bet is to cook me something with four ingredients, invest in quirky socks and dip yourself in molten wax.

Guess what? I’m eighteen years old in that one too.

I need to get into teen movies. Where is my non-existent agent?

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London Recalling: The Throwback-set

“The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there” – L.P. Hartley

Tower Bridge

A year ago today, I returned from a London city break and published my first post. I’d spent a year living in the UK capital, so for me it marked a refresh of the best bits of city-living, including art galleries, theatre performances and catching up with old friends.

Days after my return I was left encumbered, battling a mystery illness. Those following weeks I pressed on the best I could, putting it down as another one of those viruses which circulate in densely populated environments. A year later I’m no closer knowing what struck me down; we all have our theories.

Back then, my friends and I had whimsically noted the high-adoption of face coverings being worn by the predominantly Asian tourist base. We mused on the foreign illness that was gripping other continents, but to comprehend the possibility that our own country could already be rife with disease was a step too far. We were better than that, we were British. Instead, we continued to pack ourselves into dense sweats to watch live music, feasted in noisy restaurants and embraced fondly.

If only we’d known.

So, with perhaps a naively romanticised view of what were truly the last days of normality (late January 2020), here are all four parts of London Recalling.

London Recalling – the Mini-Series

Part One – Straight Lesbians, Like Us

Part Two – The Creative’s Curse

Part Three – Solo Sell-Outs

Part Four – Wapping Old Stairs

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Cheers To The Happy Couple

For the lockdown marriage of one of my mates (remember Woman on The Verge of a Birthday Breakdown?) the groom’s sister asked everyone to record a video message to send to the happy couple.

“Sure!” I thought, “this’ll be easy. I can be classy and endearing at the same time, that’s totally me!”

Then again, this is also me:

Several glasses of prosecco down (you’ve got to get into the party vibes with this sort of thing), I set up my phone and filmed this.

“I mean, it’s something,” I mused whilst watching it back. “Not sure what that something is, but it’s that. Hmm, maybe I’ll do a second take, just in case.”

And then the cat came along…

It was a tough call between the two but ultimately I knew which one I was going to send over.

Yes, I sent the cat video.

(Jess, I hope you and Dave had a lovely wedding day. See you on the other side when we can properly celebrate. x)

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A Very 2020 Take on the 1974 UK General Election

While the rest of the country flipped out over Covid for the billionth time that year, my sister and I chose to spend one particular Saturday night watching the high-quality coverage of the 1974 General Election.

No, I’m not joking.

One day we’ll look back on things like this and go, “yes, we really were living life to the best when in our 20s.”

(By the way, we shouted “PHONE!” When the phone was heard ringing in the studio. It’s not quite audible on the playback and I’d hate my reputation to be damaged by this one element.)

Spoilers: Harold Wilson of the Labour Part won a majority of three seats and took over from Ted Heath’s Conservative-led government (I may have Googled that – even I couldn’t face staying up until 12:45am).

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Be Right Back – Quick Update

For those not already aware, I’ve been pretty rough of late.

Quick update, I seem to have turned into a floating head.

I suppose anything that gets me one step closer to forming a tribute act to Talking Heads…

Jokes aside, things are still very on/off. Moved onto new antibiotics on Thursday and I’m holding out on those to sort me out which should take a couple of weeks. I’m also on strong pain meds, probably why you might find me posting things like this:

My stomach is swollen up and burnt to shreds from the hot water bottle, but nobody wants to see that (including myself). It also means I can’t drink alcohol while on this medications OR COFFEE* (*on the particularly bad days).

I’m aware that to an outsider perspective this might look like me adopting Kerry Mucklowe levels of melodrama…

…But if you genuinely want you to know why I’m not responding to your emails or texts or anything else, that’s why. It’s not you, it’s really all down to me. Well, and Squeaky the cat.

I put her as acting secretariat but as expected, she’s a cat.

The times I feel more myself, I hurriedly blogging future posts/writing Christmas cards/doing human things, as well as the full-time job.

So please and thanks for bearing with me. x

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Oh, and I’ve had a few questions about why I’m so rough. High-level summary; cut in my arm didn’t get bandaged correctly, so that got infected. Plus complications with a routine procedure so more infection! (It took 5 weeks to get a formal diagnosis which is never ideal, especially when you’re being told to take painkillers and see how it goes. But hey, it’s in the past now. Totally over it…totally.)

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UK Christmas TV Adverts 2020

This post has been sparked off my Mumma B, who only the other day asked me about this year’s John Lewis Christmas advert.

The thing is, she comments about the lack of visibility, but at the same time records everything on her YouView box purposely to skip all the adverts. You see the dilemma here?

Basically I’m posting all the Christmas adverts for the main UK players so that my mum can see them in one place (and once only).

I’ll add to the list as and when any additional companies release theirs (please do also poke me with a metaphorical stick in the comments). Otherwise lets get to it! In no particular order…

UK Christmas TV Adverts (2020)

John Lewis / Waitrose Supermarket

Aldi Supermarket

Lidl Supermarket

Walkers Crisps

McDonald’s

TK Maxx

Argos

Barbour

Very.co.uk

Amazon

Tesco Supermarket

Asda Supermarket

Morrisons Supermarket

Sainsburys Supermarket

Boots

Lego

Dreamies Cat Treats

M&S Food

Disney

Coca-Cola

JD

Ralph Lauren

(Disclaimer: All videos above have been lifted from YouTube via the URL. I don’t own any part of these videos.)

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