gifs

Hello Darlings!,

Anyone who has been reading this blog for a while (Mwah! <3) will know that I adore a Gif. Love ’em…Want to marry them and set up a little farmstead with the cats, kinda love them. Therefore, you will understand my absolute delight, my sheer glee, at the thought that I have just made my very own Gif.

This may be one of the greatest moments of my life. I don’t care what you think. It’s on par with the time I had a perfect cup of tea in Sixth form. It was the perfect drinking temperature and it worth the bollocking I got in form when I was late – turns out “having the best cup of tea of your life” isn’t a good enough reason to be late for form, or the fact that it’s held in a room on the fourth floor, pft! I think we both know who was correct in that argument.

Now, excuse my gifs beauty (Anyone else a huge DragRace fan? – We so need to talk about this) ….I am happy to present my Gif. I can’t claim anything ownership of the images or people but I pasted some text over it because I am an artist and this is what creative people do on a Friday evening.

Et Voila!

You’re welcome.

If you want to make your own I recommend going to giphy and using their editor. It’s literally internet magic, or if you’re old enough, rather like a better version of Microsoft “paint”.

Now please, let me know what else you are getting up this weekend. I myself will be making more “Art”. Now fly, fly my pretties and throw digital shade with this beautiful gif: http://gph.to/2qnY5Hu

Today started well. I got up late, and whilst frantically throwing on clothes that didn’t need ironing, I unexpectedly decided upon a fancy pair of shoes that I had brought years ago, but had only recently been rediscovered whilst moving house. Abandoned and strewn carelessly at the back of my wardrobe, they seduced me away from my old reliable brown boots. In my excited haste I put these fabric treasures on my feet, fluffed my hair and arranged my music ( Cyndi Lauper and MIA coming into my ears) I then began my rush to the office. I was making good time and foolishly began feeling good about myself, hell yeah! floaty skit and heels, looking preeeetty darn good there shug. Suddenly out of no where it began. The heel carnage.

The vamparic shoes, in order to keep their brand new shoe like beauty, needed a sacrifice and that fleshy gift had to be in their callus minds, the backs of my heels.

The wankers.

10 minutes away from work and neither half way up nor down, I had a choice to make. This choice I decided was work,and so on my tippy toes, critically balanced in a pair of navel wedges, I carefully hobbled to work using the mantra “it’s only pain”.

When I got to work bedraggled and battle scared, my co workers were amazing and provided plasters.

It was in the bathroom as I was cleaning my feet that I remembered why they had been at the back of the wardrobe in the first place.

Thrown angrily and heartbroken one friday early morn as I hobbled in, numb from medicinal alcohol you understand ( no really, these shoes really are carnivorous) and swiftly forgotten about. Today they sort their revenge.

The moral of this boring but mainly therapeutic blog post?