It’s never gentle, it feels like someone is twisting your guts with their bare hands.

Once you have taken a laxative you have roughly seven hours before it feels like you are dying out of your bottom. Heaven forbid your not at home when the belly bomb erupts, this is always a danger.

It starts with a deep rumbling like trapped gas, this is the beginning of the end. Yes not only do you have to deal with pain but throw in an embarrassing noisy belly, like you ate a live animal and its trying to send a code through your belly button. It gets worse until it reaches an unbearable hight and you feel like you need to fart. DO NOT! Its trying to trick you, next thing you will feel is a trickle running down your leg. So at that point you run to the toilet and sit down. It’s like your stomach knows.

See I never got that, how does it know? It’s like when you need a wee and the closer you get to your house the stronger the urge and harder to hold it becomes. When you finally reach your front door it becomes almost impossible to keep control of those muscles. You panic and putting the key in the door becomes a struggle like no other, but your bladder wouldn’t be so ready to explode if you were still on the bus. I always try and trick it in to thinking Im still on the bus…it never works…it knows.

Anyway back to the lying laxative. You sit on that toilet in agony it feels like your guts are rotting. You feel like you want to be sick because of the pain. Then come the cold sweats and shakes. You think: “Am I going to die? Its not the way I wanted to go really, on the toilet pants round my ankle with shit everywhere! Still if its good enough for Elvis”..until the release. But this is not the end of it.

You feel better and go and lay down, you need it after that. Ten minuets later, however, the pain returns that little demon is back clawing at your insides. You run back to the safety of the lav. But after this round you are afraid to leave it. So you sit there for ages and end up with a big red toilet seat mark on your bum.

Please tell me which part of this is gentle relief! I think companies should just tell the truth “painful relief from constipation” or “hurts but it will clear you out” What about “will make you think your dying but your not your having a big poo”. They are always skating around what the product does, just put the truth on the box. It’s like Tena lady it’s a nappy for old people, or Tampons they suck up your period, just say that.

What the fuck happens to men as they walk through the door of a club?

They walk in, hand over their entrance fee and get shot with a retard gun. BOOM! you are now a dribbling mess, say good-buy to the use of your legs and yet help to confidence.

They stand in packs on the hunt for the weak loan sheep that they can pounce on with all the elegance of a bear in a toutou. But sheep are afraid of loud noises, over-enthusiastic movements and slobbering spit in the eye so elope when they have a chance. The chase re-ackers with a different sheep each time, until the pack tire and end up licking their wounds the only way they know how…with alcohol, shoulder lock jumping and shouty singing.

I mean, what the fuck is that shoulder locking jumping in a circle dance anyway? Its like some fucked up ring a ring a roses for kids who’s parents hated them. This is how we hug son, elbow in the face.

By this point, the realisation that no girl in her right mind would even consider the mere possibility of poking one of their pack members with a long stick, they turn to aggression. They bash in to anyone, they swear, they turn to intimidate everyone in a feeble attempt to try and prove their manliness. At this point everyone hopes these arseholes drink so much they choke on their own vomit. It is natural selection.

Oxford Street used to, for me, be a magical place. Every Christmas me and my family would take a trip to look at the lights and the amazing Selfridges windows. Yes they used to put in some effort unlike now where they just chuck mannequins in the windows surrounded by fake snow laden with exquisite designer clothing that, let’s face it none of us can afford.

Anyway, before I digress any further, I loved Oxford Street even in my teens it was a place of excitement and fun. We would grab our skateboards make our way to Monument in Hyde Park and the day would inevitably end in Trocadero. We would walk up Oxford street spending our pocket money on little knick knacks and just have a great day out together.

But Oxford Street no longer brings fun and excitement. It now holds connotations of anger and frustration. I would go as far as to say I bloody hate it.

First off what is with the morons that seem to meander around in some kind of dream like state. You know the ones, and if you don’t, you’re probably that person, and if you are, Fix the hell Up. Their usually dressed to the nines, on their mobile, and think they have fallen from heaven. Their so fixated on swishing their hair and trying to be the best thing since sliced bread they have no idea about others around them. These are the ones you have to walk slowly behind because your numerous attempts to overtake have been scarpered by people coming in the other direction or a hair flick. You walk behind them thinking ‘just fucking move.’ That’s right; no one is thinking ‘oh this person is so amazing.’ Were all thinking how much we hate you and whether risking our lives in using the busy road just to get away from you is worth it.

Next there are the tourists, don’t get me wrong I have nothing against tourists, however learn how to walk will ya. They walk along jabbering with each other in one line, taking up the entire pavement. Seriously? You can’t walk in two’s, like normal people learnt in school, as children? That never stuck did it? Why take up a whole pavement? For those of you who go about in big groups please take note, don’t. Another thing you do that pisses Londoners off is when you get in a group for a picture and then the person with the camera stands there forever trying to take it. Were nice people, were accommodating people, that’s why were not walking in the cameras shot, but don’t take the piss with how long and how many you take.

Now, those people who just don’t know how to react in busy social environments, they have no idea, like they have walking Aspergers. They walk along then just stop with no warning causing a situation where everyone is bumping in to the person in front. That’s right you have just caused Londoners to touch strangers…we do not like this. These are the same people who look in to a shop window about ten times, while slowly walking past. The shit in the window is not going to change within a minute, you like something go in you don’t just walk past it’s not exactly brain surgery is it. Another thing they do is just turn around and change direction, just like that, turn to face you, what are you doing? Sometimes you’re not expecting it and end up with a nose bump or worse, lip touch. I don’t want to catch your idiocy just stop it. Sometimes these people decided last minute to go in to a shop and walk right across you, almost tripping you up. They also do this at crossings walk across the crossing in a lopsided way because they obviously didn’t think it through.

So people, well done, you have destroyed Oxford Street for me, and probably many others. If your reading this and don’t know what I’m talking about then you are one of these people. Take note and just sort it out.

So I’m on holiday in France. The problem is I don’t speak French. It’s annoying and I feel so typically English and ignorant. I keep trying to talk to people in either Spanish or English, neither work.

I’m trying to learn while I’m here, reading from a phrase book which does no bloody difference because they can’t understand my god awful accent. This is the first time I have been in a country where I have no means to communicate with the locals and its killing me. How do people do it?

I have been on holidays before where everyone around me speaks no other language other than English. They just shout and point and seem to have no problems other than the odd rude look which seems to just go over their head. I have been at a bar and have someone yell “I WANT A BEER” to the bar man. They seem to think nothing of it, where as I was so embarrassed I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. But that’s what I’m doing now.

It made me think, why do we have so many different languages? Why don’t we all just learn one? Why did every country have to make up different sounds in which to communicate?

It would make life so much easier without the language barriers. People keep trying to talk to me, just randomly, maybe I look French? The first time was a woman in a perfume shop, she didn’t work there, she was browsing and came up to me smiled and jabbered on. I smiled back and then pointed to myself and said “English” and she nodded and walked off. Then some teenage boy came up to me in the street and started talking to me so I said “pardon, no pole vou Frances” he looked confused and stood there. Then I thought saying I don’t speak French in French is a little confusing. So by the third stranger I came up with a cunning new tactic. I made hand gestures and pretended I was deaf, that seemed to work. I just hope that I don’t bump in to someone who knows French Sign Language!

Ok so normally I, like many of you, are one of those people who don’t accept fliers from people on the street. I understand it gets annoying having pieces of paper shoved in your face while you are hurrying around this big city. It’s not like you get it once in a while, it’s a daily occurrence, either someone’s trying to sell you something, have you sign up for something or promoting something.

But for the last few weeks I have been one of those hellish flyer givers, promoting the salon I work for. Now I know how frustrating it is to be ignored like I am some kind of paranormal creature. I know some people don’t want random bits of paper floating around their bags, believe me I get it. However I know you saw me, you know you saw me, we both know you know I’m there don’t just walk past and not acknowledge my existence it’s down right rude.

Oh and for all of you that are on the phone, whatever, funny how it didn’t ring but you conveniently answered it at the point where you may have to communicate with, god forbid, a stranger with a leaflet.

What’s worse though is those people who look at you with fire in their eyes and yell ‘no’. Usually these are the people, in my humble opinion, that need the beauty treatments. Walking around with hair like they just got pulled a bush backwards and a face like a dribbling fish. You need a beauty flier, I’m only trying to help you politely here.

Lastly are those that take it begrudgingly, but don’t have the balls to either ignore you or yell ‘no’. They pretend to browse it with a thoughtful expression as they walk off and then dash it on the floor when your out of eye shot. I know who you are, I didn’t need to see you throw it. Ok firstly these cost money, man up, have the guts to say no, but smile while you do it so your not in the above category. Secondly do you think I like standing here? Do you think it’s a hobby for me? No! For you to throw it away is like you are saying my job is worthless. Don’t insult my intelligence at least keep it until you get home then put it in to the recycle bin.

Next time you see a flier giver don’t do any of the above!

Inevitably you’re going to end up with a cock in your face. I have been to three, so i think im a bit of a pro, and I can say I find them all a little…well, extraudenary.

I went to the first one when I was seventeen, with my friend and her mother. It was held in a grotty old working mens pub. I remember sitting there watching these middle aged women glugging back the wine getting more and more rowdy until, Bam out came a fireman. The screams were deffening women had turned to a pack of hounds within 0.5 seconds. He sauntered in to the middle of the dance floor covered in baby oil dancing to the cheesiest song imaginable looking like a smarmy streaker.

Why do they always use the crappiest, cheesiest sound track imaginable? You know that ‘I’m too sexy’, ‘Hot stuff’, ‘I need a hero’ or some other vomit enduing song will rear its ugly head at some point. It’s so predictable there will be a guy dressed in white dancing to the main song from ‘officer and a gentleman’; as well as the fireman dancing to ‘I need a hero’, please come up with some new material. It’s not just the music that sucks though, is it? Nope the dance moves are just as bad. The same rubbish steppy boy band choreography, which they can’t all do in time or in sink anyway.

Yet the women go mental. They scream and shout and try and grab ball bags and penises all over the place. All etiquette goes out the window and it seems all inhibitions too. I have seen women steal pieces of clothing, like hats which are usually used at the end of a routine to cover the strippers modesty. I have seen them physically run on to the stage doging bouncers to rip clothes off a man like a rabid beast. They think it’s ok to grab for a naked arse cheek or, and yes I witnessed this, lick it. I have seen one woman literally pushed off a stripper for trying to eat his cock…in front of everyone! Seriously its like a sexless apocalypse has hit.

Its not just the lack of civilisation as we know it disappearing that I don’t like. Its the nature in which these ‘hot’ men demean women. Just because you are hot and I have paid money to come and see you does not mean I want your willy in my face! The first strip show I went to the guy actually cock slapped a girl. She seemed to not mind, however, that same night I saw that particular stripper ‘The Lone Ranger’ leaving a steamy rocking car with several different women. Guess what lady you now have chlamydia on your face!

The second male strip show I went to wasn’t as bad, although women still acted like hungry wilderbeasts there was no cock slapping. But there was a stripper with, literally the biggest shlong I have ever seen. He waved it about and came close enough to my face that I got splash back from the baby oil…

I specified male, because I have also been to a female strip show for a hen night I went to for a lesbian couple. We entered this seedy basement where there was old men slobbering over these completely naked women. I felt very uncomfortable with a vagina writhing around in my face, I couldn’t believe they were completely naked and so close. I decided to play with my phone while she pranced about turning old perves on and stopped when i saw her pointing at me. I looked confused as a bouncer approached me and told me I wasn’t allowed to take pictures…Who is taking pictures? Not me? Why would I want some naked vain woman’s foofoo on my phone? I was actually foursquaring in and texting a friend… Please…

Anyway at some ppoint I needed a wee and had to find the ladies, which there was none, because this was a predominantly male establishment, obviously. So I was forced to use the toilet in the strippers changing room. When I arrived there was one snorting cocaine and yelling about how nasty men were, how shit her life was, and that she didn’t have to take this abuse.

I quickly made my exit as she started wailing after I asked how she was, took the wrong exit and ended up on stage…not my finest moment I thought as I backed up through the doors and made my way to the nearest exit.

So in conclusion I don’t like strip shows…but maybe its just me?

Today has been the third day in a row where I have driven to some historic castle or chateau only to find that it is closed. I’m staring to get the impression that the whole of France is closed or they just don’t want to share their history with the British.

I get an image of a French man clad in stripes with a beret with a coffee on a white fenced balcony on the look out for any Brits that may come to the village. “Lock your doors” he shouts and grannies scramble to close everything. In moments the entire place looks like a death town. I can’t prove this theory of course.

But for the last three days I have found the tourist office and asked when the place of interest is open, and they always say “you have to get the key from….” The first one was from the bakery, the second was kept by the butcher and today’s key, well I think she made up a word to be honest. All three were either closed or never found.

This is beside the point. The fact is I don’t feel comfortable when I have the keys to a friends car or flat let alone the key to a 15th century castle. It’s too much responsibility, I mean, what’s their lock smith situation like? I haven’t seen one since if been here and how would a locksmith deal with a historic lock?

Could you imagine it? sorry entire village I just lost the key to your most historic prized possession.

Why don’t they just leave it open? It’s not like people are going to steal anything and if they did I’m sure someone in the village will notice a person walking about with a 15th century massive tapestry or chair. I mean leave it open, get someone to sit there, ask for a few euros and hey presto your making money. That’s better than people turning up, going on a key hunt and then leaving. You would even make money from the tourists buying stuff and eating.

Tomorrow I will try again, maybe I will get lucky and find something open. Perhaps everything closes Saturday to Monday?