Supporter Shout Out: Baker Tea House, Cardiff

A massive thank you to the team at Baker Tea House in Cardiff for the lovely card and coffee and cake vouchers! Super unexpected but a wonderful delight.

Baker Tea House is my absolute, number one, favourite coffee shop, quite possibly ever (definitely in Cardiff). I have been frequenting it for years. Located in the High Street Arcade (opposite Cardiff Castle), this multi-level venue stocks oodles of teas, alongside the coffee classics.

Thanks to the pandemic I’ve been unable to go for over a year. Which sucks. Wales said that English people weren’t welcome to cross the border, the politicians in power said so. And we all know what happens when people say no? That’s right, it turns it into forbidden fruit.

Gareth Bale…

Gareth Bale makes decision on offers to leave Real Madrid during summer  transfer window - football.london

Welsh footballer, Gareth Bale, now counts as ‘exotic’, on account of him being someone that, at one stage, it was illegal for me to visit.

Huh? No, I don’t fancy him. Just, *whispers*, forbidden fruitttt. (I’d probably fancy a chimp in a suit if it was classed as forbidden fruit…don’t tell my employers I said that.)

And don’t tell me I’m using the pandemic as an excuse; it still counts.

What were we talking about again? Oh yeah, Baker Tea House.

For anyone interested in visiting, here’s a handy link – https://www.barkerteahouse.com/

(The same management also operate Coffee Barker. Handy link – https://www.coffeebarker.com/)

NB – for the avoidance of doubt, no one sponsored or asked me to write this post. It’s written it in thanks and appreciation to the staff and owners.

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Alice, The Influencer

Just had this slide into my Insta DMs…

And you know what? It’s about ruddy time. About time someone appreciated ‘My’ skills as a potential influencer (that’s what I’m going to call myself from now on, My).

One only need look at a sample of my recent work to appreciate my modelling abilities.

Sex, on, legs (or back…I can be a very malleable sack of potatoes when it comes to hospital visitations).

I can totally work basic photography functions on a modern camera phone.

And Mumma B is always saying I have eyes like the possessed child from Sixth Sense, which can only be a good thing!

Yes, I can see a lot of brands going for this. After all, everyone knows about me being a notorious snob for fashion.

Yes, that is indeed a photo of me rummaging through a box labelled ‘free stuff’.

I also perform all my own dance moves!

(Although that was cracking on ten years ago. May need refresher training on that one.)

Look out world! I’ll see you on the other side, once I go global with my first fashion brand campaign.

Update: Grace has yet to take me up on my services.

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Deleted MHAM Posts From the Cutting Room Floor

Some of the photos and posts that I wanted to write for My Housemate’s a Mermaid, but didn’t quite have enough material (pictorial and verbal) to fill.

Deleted MHAM Posts From the Cutting Room Floor

  1. The time how, at the start of the pandemic, Mumma B spent hours cutting squares of old fabric to make laundry bags for NHS key workers

2. When I stayed up so late that I ended up watching a much younger Nicky Campbell presenting a Top of the Pops episode from 1990

Some people had more fun than others.

I continued to watch it, even when this was played from the UK top twenty for the week.

3. How very surreal my office was when I went back to empty my locker

4. My sister’s attempts with one of those packet face masks from South Korea

It ripped off a load of skin, but not a lot else.

5. Squeak, the cat, being rebellious

6. The time I saw my old/favourite History lecturer from University on the BBC and I absolutely lost my cool

I mean, WITH LUCY WORSLEY!!

7. The time I found this in a shop and it perked up my mood

(But not enough that I bought it.)

8. The generous gin measures down the local pub

9. The generous measures of lunch portions while living with family

10. The thinking behind this at the Travel Lodge Hotel in York

It was in the foyer for several days…

11. A post detailing the contents of my bookshelf

12. Everything about this account that started following me on Twitter

How did it take you to spot that’s a semi naked woman?

13. A post on me rekindling my creative mojo during the pandemic

14. The importance of good friends who call-out when you have really bad body odour

15. The ‘what the fudge-ness’ of this targeted advert

Yes, I did tap the link and yes, I am still getting adverts for werewolf fan-fiction as a result.

16. Lockdown birthdays

17. The large number of self-published books with Covid themes

18. The other strange things being self-published

Although I am still a bit in love with the title of this book.

19. My attempts to have a massive clear-out

…which were ultimately foiled by a mixture of procrastination / charity shops being closed / Bubble the cat.

So there you go, a snippet of how much gets filtered before making it onto this website. What can I say? You get what you pay for.

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For Anyone Questioning The Quality of My Work

Remember the post I did, titled Very Cotswold Problems, #3001? It turns out Mr Maverick Lawn Mowing services (catchy name) liked the video upload, and they liked it a lot.

24 seconds of top-notch video footage of my Mumma B and her lawn mower shed antics and the dude has both liked and subscribed to my YouTube channel (still working on getting them to like the actual blog content).

If that doesn’t scream quality comedy, I don’t know what does.

Hang on…have they liked this just because of my Mum?

Seesh. Anyway, moving on…

UPDATE: Maverick has taken down their comment. Rats.

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Check out this seagull, picking a fight with its own reflection

For anyone having a bad day or indeed anyone in want of a video that isn’t all doom and political gloom (= basically THE GLOBE), well look no further than this:

And if that’s not enough to lighten your mood, at least a little, then frankly my dear…

I’m with Clark Gable on this one, AKA, go play with a piece of string or something.

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My Face, On Your Tissues

There is more to the humble spam folder than missed opportunities and utter junk. Exactly, there’s missed junk opportunities!

Ladies and gentleman, may I kindly introduce to you this email…

I admit, it’s not the easiest to read on the photo. Let me detail it below:

HiAeb
I am glad to know your demand for the tissue market.
We have specialized in providing customized tissues for more than 8 years, and have provided sources of supply for many domestic companies.
We are eager to expand channels and we are eager to cooperate with you.
Samples will be sent to you for evaluation.
Thanks, and best wishes

Ms Luo (General Manager)
Chengdu Dixuan Trading Company

I know! Cutomized tissue paper?! Where have these opportunities been in my life? In my spam folder, that’s where!

Oh my, I think I’m getting giddy with all the possibilities. “Expanding my channels” – I can see it now, my face in toilet cubicles up and down the country. No, not the country, THE WORLD!!

I’ll be quite honest with you, I can’t think of anything much better.

Or, I could do as my email provider recommends and just delete the email, or, do nothing and let my email provider automatically delete it for me. (I’ll let you guess which I ended up doing.)

And people say I excited over nothing…oh hey, a shiny bit of foil blowing down the street!

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Remember Eurovision’s Daz Sampson?

Saturday was rough. Real rough.

By now pretty much everyone in Europe will be aware that Britain’s entrant for this year’s (2021) Eurovision scored 0 points.

Ye-ep.

For those who haven’t already seen/heard it…

Compare this to Germany’s entry…

Germany scored 3 points. At the risk of eroding the UK’s diplomatic relations with Europe further, 3 points was plenty.

And before you go all “Alice, you’re from Britain so naturally you’re going to be a sore loser about this” – well, do you remember Daz Sampson? Back from the 2006 Eurovision in Athens?

Let me refresh you.

Daz Sampson was originally part of Uniting Nations, the duo that, in fairness, brought out this one-hit wonder in 2005:

(Side note, was I the only person deeply uncomfortable with the trend to sexualise women in music videos, even back then? Why was this an acceptable thing?!)

Needless to say, the guy knew how to make a club banger.

But when it came to our Eurovision entry, we got this:

Basically the same setup from Out of Touch, but in a school setting, with DJ turnstiles, none of the tune status and, to quote one YouTube comment, “your drunken Dad trying to rap at a wedding.”

Dear goodness.

This is the edited version, in the XXX director’s cut I’d wager the women get on the desks while Daz fans their awkward dancing with cue cards and revision notes.

I mean, just look at the album artwork.

The wannabe hard guy who peddles drugs at the school gates and then tries it on with the 16 year-olds, even though he’s 45 and still lives with his mum. Tell me I’m wrong.

The best bit? We got 25 points that year, 25! By British scoring standards that’s alright, a fair crack of the whip. So please, please don’t tell me that the 2021 entry is of inferior quality compared to that. Don’t tell me it levels with Britain’s only other nil point entrant from back in 2003.

Exactly.

And that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.

What has Daz Sampson been up to since Eurovision?

Still trying to get back into Eurovision…by representing Belarus.

To quote the article, “will the dynamic duo make it to Eurovision?” Well no, they didn’t.

Ironically, Belarus went for another song called “I’ll teach you” which was itself disqualified on account of it’s heavy political agenda, mocking of the ongoing peaceful protests against recent election results. Lyrics (translated into English) here.

Make of that what you will.

I wonder why the country weren’t prepared to enter Daz’s number?

Honestly, I have no words left to say and a cupboard that’s now chronically low on alcohol.

Christ.

I’m off to urgently restock.

(If you enjoyed this, you may also like my other Eurovision-themed post – British Politics, as Told Through the Medium of Eurovision Songs)

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British Politics, as Told Through the Medium of Eurovision Songs

Having been cooped up for what feels like a lifetime, I was overjoyed to hear that Eurovision is going ahead again this year.

In celebration of this wonderfully cheesy event, here are a selection of songs which could describe the stages of British reactions to Covid (anything to make this a bit more topical).

British Politics, as Told Through the Medium of Eurovision Songs

Before Covid, everything was wonderfully normal and all we had to worry about was accidentally winding up on a date with someone you think is famous, but is actually the Bruno Mars tribute act playing at your best mate’s wedding

That, or the effects of drinking river water contaminated by the chicken farm upstream.

And then Covid kicked off, and suddenly it was like we were being plunged into a world were being happy wasn’t allowed.

(Not that I’m comparing a global pandemic to the 1944 genocide of the Crimean Peninsular, both are/were terrible.)

Stuck at home, everyone took to bombarding social media with photos of their baking and back-garden boozing (often at the same time).

And, like the song, it quickly became very old.

But while we all stayed at home and kept our distance, our front line workers in industry and health care continued to press on tirelessly, whilst scientists around the world battled to find solutions to this global pandemic.

And, for the most part, the UK government was like this:

And self-employed / small businesses were lobbying for the easing of restrictions, like…

And young people with buggered-up A-Levels and university studies were like…

But as far as Boris Johnson’s public ratings were concerned…

(Coupled with a bit of…)

It wasn’t all doom and gloom. Initially, we were allowed to go out more than once a day and countryside walks were back on. Mind, the British summer though…

Then the pubs started opening up again, shops welcoming customers. For a (short) period even international travel was back on. Happy days!

And then we c**ped it up again.

Nil-points. Ah well, back to restrictions and excessive handwashing it is.

Still, they couldn’t stop us dreaming of a world free of limitations.

Even if some of those dreams were a tad surreal.

And others more nightmarish.

But with vaccine rollouts now taking place in many countries around the world, and shows like Eurovision being staged, it serves as an important reminder that we will get through this hardship. The show must go on!

Reminds me, I better dust off some of my unworn dresses from the back of the wardrobe.

But most importantly. BRING ME MY FRIENDS, BRING ME THE CHEESE AND BRING. ME. THE. PARTY!!

TUNE!!!

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Fancy Chinese Footwear

So here’s a bit of background for you, on the jazzy socks featured in Why Alice is *Still* Single…Probably.

Back when I was living in London I had the absolute pleasure of attending the Tate Modern’s critically appraised exhibition Picasso 1932: Love, Fame, Tragedy. It ran between 8th March – 9th September 2018.

I didn’t attend “1932…” until late on, days before it was due to close. Why? Because I’ll be honest, Picasso had never really been my bag. I appreciated his reputation and there’s no denying Guernica is a masterpiece of political demonstration, but otherwise I just saw the man as someone who took a lot of credit for not a lot.

Don’t shoot me.

In the end, it was a little voice inside my head that urged me to go, that I’d only regret it if I didn’t. (Also, because at the time I could get in for £5. Minor detail.)

I’m so very glad I went. For one, turns out the man is just as trigger happy on the paint brushes as I am on my blog. In one year he produced over 100 works of art (mostly of his mistress). Secondly, some of his work isn’t too shabby.

Don’t get me wrong, I still had questions. Most of my secondary school art projects were on par with Yellow Belt.

And yet God knows, you never saw my Art teacher praising me as the Second Coming. I took a snapshot and sent it to my Mum, she still insisted I keep the day job.

So what has all this got to do with socks? Well, sometime after the exhibition I was browsing the wonderful world of Far Eastern shopping when I came across some socks printed with the iconic painting The Dream.

I’ll spare you my cobble-dash description on this painting but yep, the way he painted the face is intentional (classic playboy Picasso). More information here.

Short story, shorter, I found a pair of socks online depicting this masterpiece (or, as the sellers called them, “style #3 sleeping lady”). Don’t ask how or why, it’ll be easier for us both. Neither did I enquire as to the copyright, given the same people were also selling “magic man” socks of Jesus.

12 million months later my socks arrived, looking something like this:

First observation – no way in hell were these made for a ladies foot-size 5 (EU 38). Definitely men’s socks. But still, the print detailing was alright and the image had been flipped. Without disclosing the price, (*cough* 99p), you get what you pay for.

I couldn’t wait to try them on.

Then I looked down…

Because the socks were bigger in size than expected, I’d had to pull them up higher, and because my calves are the size of tree trunks, the print was stretched-out even more.

Far from looking mellowed after a bit of artist lovin’, Marie looks genuinely pained from having her face stretched to that of a horse. And let’s not even go there with where that places Picasso’s perceived manhood.

Oh well.

I’m still gonna wear them though. I mean, Picasso socks! How cool is that?!

…What? What’s wrong?

Thanks Col, babe. xx

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It’s Not You, It’s Me…And My Editing

If ever there was a cartoon strip more applicable to me and less applicable to everyone around me right now, it would be this…

And equally, a cartoon strip that made me smile so much when I saw it but couldn’t be of less interest to most my ‘normal’ friends, followers etc.

I mean, you can tell I enjoy writing, can’t you? The person who drew that cartoon strip, they themselves probably spent less time formulating the concept and execution than my internal predicament about sharing it on social media.

I just love the damn cartoon, alright?

Another reason I find this image particularly relatable is because it is me right now. Yes, I am indeed a stick drawing with a blob of a body, tirelessly reviewing and re-reviewing every joke and humorous jab listed in my manuscript.

It’s 90k words, it’s a comedy-farce, there’s A LOT of one-liners to review. And I’ll be honest with you, a lot of the time I re-read stuff on this very blog and go ‘what the fudge was I on that night?’ Let alone what I’m going through right now.

Seriously, how do you guys put up with some of the things I say?

If in doubt, I’m editing.

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