So I’m a big fan of dinner. I love dining out perhaps too much, and just generally have an eternal love affair with food.
I have probably lost a good few days of my life to watching episode after episode of Come Dine With Me (which is complete comedy gold), and it does get me thinking about just who I’d like to have around the dinner table if I was lucky enough to be a contestant. Ever played the perfect dinner guest game? It’s pretty simple. Continue reading
So exciting times are here in the world of my blog. That is of course assuming that you get excited by the world of my blog, which naturally you all do. As I’ve now realised that ‘musings of a madeleine’ is just a little too whimsical and airy fairy, and I am in fact more in likeness to Madeye Moody than I ever could have hoped, I’ve gone over to the lovely, shorter and more friendly domain name at www.madeye.co.uk.
I think I must’ve taken leave of my senses when I registered on here using my full name. Since childhood I’ve eschewed the name Madeleine with a firm hand; various forms of the word ‘Mad’ are generally used to holler at me. I’ve been the Maddog (and still am in a lot of phonebooks no doubt), Madeye (my personal fave) and even just ‘Mad’ which is perfectly acceptable.
I feel the move away from Madeleine is a sign that I’m feeling more settled in this here blogging space; less of a Madeleine and more of a Madeye. Of course you’ll all be adding www.madeye.co.uk to your list of faves and be hitting the follow button below to keep up with my various brain vomit (please please and thrice pleeease subscribe, it makes me feel like the princess I am).
So I think we can all agree that pizza is a God sent from another world to make us that little bit fatter, and yet that little bit happier.
Kate Moss famously said that nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, and whilst I’ve not felt skinny since I was about 12 years of age, I do reckon she’s probably right, and at least she’s honest about just how restrictive her diet has to be for her to stay skinny.
So there are companies out there on the web at the mo, who make delightful clothing (sweeping statement I know). I follow a whole load of these brands on Instagram, and regularly pine over the pictures of their clothing as modeled on their size six stunners, knowing full well that if I bought most of their stuff, I’d look like a sausage. Now I’m not brand-shaming, ‘cause there are plenty of other guilty parties out there at the moment, but brands such as o-mighty and skinny bitch apparel (a charming name which 100% invites women of all sizes to celebrate their bodies, naaat.) selling teeny weeny crop tops with ‘pizza slut’ on them is just a bit of a joke. Continue reading
It’s Thursday, and like many slaves to the gram, I just uploaded a picture of me as a baba to Instagram, slapped an ‘earlybird’ filter on it, and shared it with the world with a #tbt hashtag. Isn’t it fucking cute (I look like an egg).
Throwbacks are very much en vogue; ever since it became oh so easy to share your every whimsical thought with the world on social media, and even categorise that shit with a hashtag (which by the way I never thought would catch on), people everywhere have been sharing their nostalgia for their past selves (but only on a #throwbackthursday, or the occasional #flashbackfriday if they miss the boat). Continue reading
I’ve always been told I’m a pretty clever person. From a young age I had my head in a book (mainly Harry Potter) and there was actually a point (before my degree) when I considered getting a B as a failure. Yeah, I was that guy.
However, it has occurred to me as I approach my mid-twenties with caution that book smarts may not be all they’re cracked up to be. Perhaps I am an anomaly, but it would seem that being academically clever puts you just out of reach of common sense. I mean, I could hold a conversation about the structure of Milton’s Paradise Lost, but chances are I couldn’t give you a hand with navigating a washing machine. I’m the kind of person that walks into lamp posts on a regular basis. Continue reading
The evolution of my makeup skills has been slow and painful. There were the days that a slick of mascara and some finger-applied foundation were all I donned for a night out:
The black-eyed metal rocker eye-makeup overload I-want-to-be-Taylor-Momsen phase (nailed it):
Like everyone on the planet I’m a complete social media addict, and I too spend my mornings, evenings, nights and everything in between scrolling through various news feeds on my phone to keep up with the lives of people who I probably don’t really care much about whatsoever. We’re all addicted to information; following the meltdowns, relationships and eating habits of the population has become real genuine entertainment for us.
Now, I didn’t really used to post much on Facebook or Twitter until I started this blog, but I’m pretty sure I now come under the category of an ‘annoying Facebooker’. This in turn gives me the right to give a load of shit to other people who use social media like a mother-fucking diary. Continue reading