Thoughts. Ramblings. Heavy-hipped. Mango-obsessed.

Sofa-flavoured Ice Cream, anyone?

Ok, so I went out and got my 2 bountiful bars of Bounty ice cream, talked to and caressed them on my way back. Took my trainers off, dashed the keys somewhere, curled up on the sofa and got down to business.

Tore open the wrapper, admiring its milk-chocolate frame for a few moments and the sheer genius of its capability to hold me captive (soon, very soon, we shall be one).

How I Normally Have It...

...well, I tend to eat mine in layers - First, I'll nibble off all the chocolate to expose the ice cream, and then I'll eat the ice cream. That way, it feels like I'm having two desserts (sad, aren't I?)

Anyway, so I'm doing my sumptuous 'peel-off-and-eat-the-choccie-bits-first' ritual, only to find that the ice cream's quite melted inside. I'm none too pleased with this culinary hiccup of a revelation as it now means the ice cream won't hold once the chocolate gives way. Grrrr.

Feeling a bit robbed of the opportunity to savour the moment - my moment - I feel like going back to the shop to complain, but how silly will that make me look? Upset over a £1.10 Bounty bar? They might call the police and have me arrested for being a twat.

And so, being the eternal optimist that I am, I carry on, my fingers now getting messy (but gloriously so).

I'm watching Scrubs on TV - someone's just said something funny (haha)...

the next thing I know, half of the ice cream's on the frikkin sofa...

Oh shit... f*ck, f*ck, f*ck...

Now... what do you think I did?

Erm... let's just say I've always been a bit 'experimental' with my food ;-)

My Body Wants Ice Cream...

img by: lafy4k

- serious craving for all things fish (tuna in sunflower oil, peppered fillets, etc.)

- found myself crying my eyes out to Donna Summer's 'She Works Hard For Her Money'.


- I'm going through a 'I've grown an extra sweet tooth in the past frikkin 24 hours' phase.

- Bought myself a pack of Thorntons chocolate yesterday. Yum!

- I want some ice cream NOW.

- Been having ice cream dreams for the past 4 hours. Can't think. Can't cone-centrate. Can't breathe. I'm choking. Help meeeeeeeeeeeee.

- How my keyboard isn't completely soaked with my 'mouth-wateredness' is beyond me.

- So that's it. Me and my swollen belly are going out to get some ice cream.

- Mmmm.... Bounty ice cream. Two packets. One for each twin. (I'm a Gemini).

Will she make it to the cornershop on time? Will she slip on a slug before she gets there? Will she make it back with her big Nigerian ass intact?

Find out on the next episode of IceCreamYouScream.

Her name was Jessica. She was only 54 days old.

Authorities failed to realise that a baby who was sexually abused and murdered by her sadistic father was at risk, an inquiry found.


If I start crying, I don't think I'm gonna stop.

It's official. Victoria Climbie died for nothing.

Rest in peace, Jessie.


Elvis Lives in Nigeria...

pic by: RBerteig

I remember in Nigeria, when I was little, my brothers & sister tried to hold a seance to try and communicate with the ghost of Elvis (my brother was a big Elvis fan, you see).

They put a glass in the middle of the table and lit a couple of candles.

I didn't want them to go ahead with it. I was 8 yrs old for Cris-sake. Absolutely bricking it.

But I had no choice but to hang around 'cos I was too scared to go off on my own.

Just as they were in the middle of the seance, the candle flickered, there was a voice outside the window and the glass broke.

I'd never screamed so frikkin hard in my whole life.

The 'voice' turned out to be the landlord's kids outside our window - they'd been eavesdropping all along.