Thursday, August 31

Off to London I go...

... well, I'm actually leaving in a couple of hours. Going to have a short nap, a shower and get changed first.

It's very sad that I am actually really looking forward to getting the GNER fast train to London this evening. 45 mins and I'm there! It seems so luxurious compared to what I'm used to! And there is a buffet carriage! AND WI-FI INTERNET ACCESS!!!

None of this detracts from the fact that it's fucking sad to be excited about going on a train at my age. I am definitely going to try and squidge my laptop into my weekend bag, though, because I want to surf the net on a train.

Wednesday, August 30

A word from our sponsor

"Greetings Humans of Earth 2006 AD. I am come to give my endorsement to this, the blog of Gemma O'Donnell (that's this blog you're reading now). I have perused the comedic musings and heart-warming anecdotes within and feel obligated to spread the word of this witty young lady and her written offerings around the internet and beyond.

You may wonder what I'm getting out of this sponsorship. Gemma provides me with human flesh to feast upon every full moon. I meet her round the back of the hospital and she opens the 'limb bin' for me. I can't do it because I have these USELESS PUNY LITTLE ARMS. Then I place my giant head inside and tuck into all the amputated arms and legs that nobody wants anymore. Don't you moralise with me, readers! THEY WERE ONLY GOING TO BURN THEM ANYWAY!!

So please continue to offer your support of this most marvellous internet weblog. It's the best journal I've read since I got hold of a copy of that Anne Frank's diary, and, well, that was a bit disappointing really. So much unnecessary death... But this knocks spots off it!

Love and kisses,

Mr T. Rex


This money-saving lark...

... it's a lot easier than I thought. If only I'd known all these short-cuts years ago, think of all the money I could have saved. It's not that I wasted all my cash through extravagance, though that does account for some of it, it's just that I never considered looking into the possibility of finding a cheaper deal - I always went for the easier option.

Today, for instance, I was looking on the internet, looking up trains to London this weekend. By surfing around different sites I eventually found myself on the GNER website, where I was able to purchase two single tickets departing from Peterborough (a 30 minute bus journey away) for £10 each. Now, normally I'd just hop on the train at Watlington (the village nearest my home) and pay £35 for the return trip. But by doing it this way I've saved over £10. I know this doesn't seem much, but that will feed me for two days. Or pay for my tube travel for the whole weekend. And if I continue to save £10 with each journey then by Christmas I'll have saved over £50.

I've sold over £120 worth of stuff on Ebay, all the proceeds of which have gone straight into my knackered bank account. And I made over £90 at the car boot sale on Saturday, so that's my spends for the next couple of weeks.

Now all I need to do is find a housewarming gift for under £5 before Saturday afternoon and I'll be laughing.

More Upside Down Heads

I've had a few excellent suggestions for upside down head candidates. However, it would also seem that there are some doubters among us, some people who think that these phenomena do not exist. Well let me present you with Exhibit A.

Exhibit A

"Yes Gemma", you say, "That is the late Buster Merryfield of Only Fools and Horses fame." Why yes, it is. Note, if you will, his bald head and exceptionally fluffy beard. Now let me show you Exhibit B.

Exhibit B

Concentrate carefully on looking at the mouth. The rest will fall into place. Just look at that wonderful white monobrow, and the little piggy nose! Buster (God rest his soul) would have been just as handsome a gent upside down as right way up, and his baldness (once a weakness) is now his crowning glory! I can see a few of you are still not convinced. This is fine, more evidence is needed. May I introduce Exhibit C.

Exhibit C

That's right, it's deep-voiced, regal Englishman Brian Blessed, in all his right way up enormous glory. Note the presence of both facial hair and head hair, this is very important, he is folically gifted in more ways than one. Once again I ask you to keep all this in mind as you peruse Exhibit D.

Exhibit D

Look at the mouth once more. Amazing. Upside down he resembles none other than the Honey Monster!!

Tuesday, August 29

Growlers and Upside Down Heads

I've recently become aquainted with the term 'growler'. I'm sure I've heard it before, but have never really considered it as an alternative name for the female genital region. Now, however, I am finding myself using this word more and more frequently, not just to describe women's nether-regions, but also as a sort of boredom mantra, a bit like Tourettes in reverse. In moments of extreme dullness the word just pops into my head, and then I have to say it to get it out; "Growler", I say (yes, I do think the capital 'G'), and instantly feel better. I know it's not particularly nice, and conjures up mental images of monster-like hairy openings with snarling teeth, but I honestly cannot help it. I am hoping it will end soon and I'll start on a more pleasant word.

Another thing I can't stop fixating on at the moment are upside down heads. I told James this on the phone tonight and he sounded baffled, he had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. "Upside down heads", I said, "you know, heads that'd look exactly the same if you turned them upside down than if you looked at them the right way up". Despite this more than adequate explanation he still sounded baffled. I tried a new tack, giving some examples of famous people with upside down heads, but I really think it's a phenomena that needs to be illustrated visually to be fully appreciated.


I don't have my photoshop loaded up on the Mac. If I did I'd have done a proper job on this, taken the head off the shoulders and turned it round, placing it back upon the shoulders and thus creating even more of a visual impact. But I couldn't so you'll just have to imagine the shoulders are at the bottom of the second picture. Also, Photobucket is going a bit weird and keeps turning the second picture back the right way up, which is very annoying, it might not be Photobucket anyway, there might be a Fred Elliot loving poltergeist living inside my laptop that is annoyed with my photographic tampering.

Bald men, obviously, are the best for upside down fun. This is because of the continuity of skin from chin to forehead. Men with beards also make good upside down candidates, providing they have a head of hair equal to the hair upon their faces (sparse hair and whispy beards work well, as do thick lustrous hair and massive beards).

If anybody else has any good photographs of upside down men then please let me know and I will post the best ones here for all to appreciate.

Friday, August 25

How much vitamin C...

... do you think there'd be in a smoothie made from 2 bananas, 10 strawberries, 20-odd blueberries and a big glug of orange juice?

I'm trying to bump up the old immune system because I'm awaiting the arrival of James, and he has Man-Flu.

Thursday, August 24

WOO! Job interview!!

At last something that's guaranteed beyond the next two months and offers me REGULAR hours.

It's a NICE job too, going round colleges and schools, trying to help kids from lower-income families get into university. Which is nice, because I was once in the exact same position as the kids I'd be talking to. One of Labour's little ideas...

I shall do my very best, and next Thursday at 10:30am I want all readers to cross their fingers and toes for me.

Wednesday, August 23

A blast from the past...

One of my ex-housemates from my time in Norwich has finally got around to posting one of the films I helped out on on youtube. It's particularly frightening because of the ventriloquists dummy. I had to order that fucking dummy from the States and when it arrived my ex used to terrorise me with it.

Tuesday, August 22

No Fair

I did the lighting for a little comedy show (it's called Sandy Hole and it's going to be brilliant and I hope you'll all know what I'm on about in the not-too-distant future) in Camden a couple of weeks ago, the cast of whom are all comedians. This evening I rang James because I was feeling a bit lonely and bored, he was out having fun at shows and bars with all the lovely people from Sandy Hole, because they're in Edinburgh for the festival, obviously. I spoke to Leanne on the phone and she was lovely, they are all lovely, and they're having a lovely time, and they think I'm lovely, but I'm STUCK IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE WHERE THE POST IS DELIVERED AT MIDDAY AND HAVING TO CLOSE ALL THE HOUSE-WINDOWS TO PREVENT THE SMELL OF MANURE FROM PENETRATING MY BED LINEN.

It's ok... no, really, it's fine. They can keep their ... drinks, and their ... fun, and their ... laughing, and .... merrymaking. I'm perfectly happy sat here watching Living TV +1, scratching my elbow and eating my family-sized bar of Galaxy all to myself. I don't even want to be up there with them. It sounds really BORING.

Wisbech is where it's at anyway. That's what all the kool kidz say.

Mmm... Ebay...

So 6 of my 13 items are currently selling very well on Ebay, which is just serving to make me more and more hungry (well, greedy) for cash. I went through my bedroom yesterday manically searching for items to sell, and managed to find a further four. This new-found selling kick is partly pure greed, partly desperation and partly boredom, because I'm off work this week and have, thus far, spent my time obsessively checking 'My Ebay' every 15 minutes, antagonising my rabbits and watching satellite tv chat shows.

Boyface is really missing me in Scutland, which then had the knock-on effect of making me realise just how much I miss him, and so the two of us have been sending pathetic texts to each other and generally acting in a sickening fashion.

Please DON'T, for the Love of God, buy any of my Ebay products, because I think this is starting to get out of hand!

Sunday, August 20

Buy my wares!

I'm a bit obsessed with Ebay at the moment, and the accumulation (as opposed to careless squandering) of wealth.

I have a few bits and bobs for sale and you can buy them here!!

It's mostly junk though, but if you're in need of a flush camping toilet then be my guest!

Sometimes I am ashamed of being British...

So a bunch of white-bred British tossers kicked off at an airport boarding a flight to Manchester because there were two 'suspicious' men in the departure lounge. Their crimes were checking their watches frequently, appearing to be asian and talking in a language, possibly Arabic. A family of seven made a fuss on the plane and refused to fly unless the men in question were taken off. The men were removed from the flight and all the white folk could fly home happy and free from TERROR.

So let's examine the young men's crimes: Talking in Arabic, yes - ARABIC, that most evil of all languages! They must surely have been talking about blowing things up, otherwise why wouldn't they speak in English like everybody else?!
Having dark skin, their skin... it's... DARKER than everyone elses! Only dark people do evil things like blow up aeroplanes and buses.
Checking their watches regularly, well, they must have been deciding when to set THE BOMB off, because they can't have been keeping an eye on the flight like the rest of those peaceful white folks. EVIL MEN!!

So I assume that now closet racists will be able to eject ethnic minorities from any form of public transport they choose, under the guise of being TERROR vigilantes. I fear for this country, I really do.

Get Well Soon, Nana Hawkins!

My Nan had a fall. She slipped on the way to the bus stop and broke her nose and arm, and knocked her teeth into her face. She's 77. And quite frail. And she lives alone in a council flat with no family nearby, so I'm a bit worried about her, even though she's abrupt and has the tact of a bull in a china shop.

I might have to spend my week off work visiting her in Kent and listening to her ranting about the Post Office and the Council and her GOODFORNUFFINBRUVVA!


Saturday, August 19

This is probably a blog no-no

But I have to go somewhere to whinge about missing my boyfriend and at least if I do it here my whining noises won't penetrate your ears and cause further offense. James has been in Scotland for nearly a week now, doing all sorts of comedy whoring at the Edinburgh festival. He'll be there until next weekend. I'm too skint to go visit him, and even if I did I'd be abandoned in bars and dingy clubs at 2am while he pimped himself out to some comedy promoter with probably 3 months more experience than him. So here I am, in Cambs, saving pennies and selling things on Ebay to desperately cobble together enough green to visit him in London within the next month.

It's not me making all the effort, if you were thinking it seemed that way, he's coming here in 2 weeks, but that's not the same. Firstly, my parents are here, so that's a bit ... odd. Secondly, I live in a village, which is as far removed from South Kensington (Boyface's patch) as it's possible to be. That means that we can't roll around in bed all day smoking and being filthy. We also can't nip out to the shops/pub for a nice brunch and read of the Saturday papers. We have to do that in the living room while Dad watches UK History documentaries on Stalin, belches and scratches his arse. We have to laugh at Mum's hilarious tales of doctor's surgeries and receptionist gaffes. We have to try not to laugh at every word that comes out of my brother's mouth.

What's going to make this next visit particularly FUN is that my big sister will be in residence at Casa O'Donnell. James has never met Maria. I am waiting to see what he makes of her. I have pre-warned him. I told him some of the little gems she's come out with in the last 12 months like "Oh, my ears are ringing! Can you hear?" and "I want to go out for the day, do we live near Bath?". He laughed at these. She is worse in real life. Oh dear.

I miss him so much that none of the above will stop me from dragging his boney arse to the Fens and clinging to him like a limpet for 3 days.

I am so pathetic for this man. It's embarrassing.

Hermit woe...

I'm feeling a bit cross with myself and guilty today.

Last night I was supposed to be attending a friend's Big Brother BBQ at 8pm. But by 8:15 I was still wearing my pyjamas and throwing homemade spaghetti bolognese down my throat. "At the end of the first half", I thought to myself, "I'll go to the party."

The first half ended. I was still wearing my pyjamas. I wore them through Eat Out Of Tin Cans (but I didn't watch it because Jimmy Carr's face gives me uncontrollable rage blackouts). The second half began. I was still wearing my pyjamas. I decided that the party obviously wasn't going to happen for me, so texted the hostess to try and explain my absence.

The best I could come up with was: 'Hi. Haven't got money for meat or booze and can't get lift in. Sorry. Xx'

Even reading that back to myself now I am squirming with shame. And I wrote it. Fucking terrible.

You see I really did want to go to this party, honest. I just couldn't be bothered to move, wash, put makeup on, do my hair, leave the house and talk to people. And I knew if I went I'd spend at least £5 on cigarettes and Lambrini, and I definitely cannot afford to lose £5 at the moment.

I watched the final and then went to bed with a cup of tea and read Mrs Dalloway. I was asleep by midnight.

I am dreading seeing all my friends next week, because they'll all tell me off for being lame. But I guess I could use the now tried and tested method of staying in and hiding and hoping everyone goes away and leaves me alone. Poverty has made me so antisocial.

Friday, August 18

My blog gets all grown up!

Well I've finally gotten around to creating a proper grown-up blog, to replace my rubbish myspace one. I'll be posting all my usual rubbish rants on here from now on, but my archive of old blogs remains at and you can go there and rake through my traumatic tales of singledom, shags, knob scents and financial ruin.

A quick word on the title; I love dinosaurs, obviously, and therefore my title represents that particular demographic of society that is female and finds giant reptiles fascinating.

I'm off to get ready for a Big Brother party now, which should be pretty amazing.


gem xx

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