Why I Don't Mind Being Fat

I've always been overweight. Ever since I was an adorable child at school, merely learning pointless facts that I will never need to know again (volcanoes, I'm talking to you). And whilst obviously it's not good for you, it's made me the person I am today, and it's made me a better person than I think I would have been if I wasn't the way I am. Now this blog is by no means endorsing being overweight, we know all the health shit and I'm actually losing weight at this moment in time, but this post is going to explain how I've made the best of a what could have been bad situation. How it's helped me and how I'm proud of who I am. And if anyone reading this has any negative views on me being overweight, you can kindly fuck off because I literally couldn't care less. 

Also I'll be using the words fat and skinny. I don't mean any offence with this so try to get over it a bit. 

First and foremost, I definitely believe that being overweight has made me a funnier person. When I was younger, I couldn't rely on being an adorable and pretty girly girl, mostly because I was always covered in mud and constantly wore boy's clothes (I know, how people were shocked when I came out I will never know). And today, I can't reply on being a beautiful and stunning girl, because that's not how I'd describe myself to be. But because I was never that feminine or attractive I needed to have something going for me. And thankfully I'm fucking hilarious. I joke, but I making people laugh comes easily to me. Without trying. Probably the only thing that does. I think because I've never been particularly attractive or stereotypically beautiful, I've had to have something to fall back on. But this is why I'm grateful for being fat. I know enough boring skinny bitches to thank the lord for my plus size clothes. It's enabled me to develop into someone funnier and someone who has a care free attitude with being funny, and it's enabled me to lighten any situation, no matter who's died. That's a lie, never joke when someone's died. Learnt that the hard way. Whilst other girls, when they talk to boys or girls they don't know, it can be often about looking good and making a good physical impression, I don't care. I'd rather anyone call me hilarious than beautiful. Most people can make themselves look marginally attractive, but not everyone can be funny. I've spoken to enough cretins to know this. And definitely not anyone can be sassy. 

Strangely enough, being fat has also given me more confidence. Don't get me wrong, for 19 years of my life this wasn't the case. In school I had no confidence at all around new people or strangers. With my friends I was normal, but I was so shy in front of new people. I'd be scared to walk alone in the street because of abuse I'd get off complete strangers. I'd cross the road to avoid a gang of boys because I didn't want them to say something horrible or for me to be able to hear it. And then for some unknown reason I went to uni, and what seemed like very suddenly, I became confident. Most people I met instantly knew exactly what I was like, I never hid away, I was me and purely me. I went from not talking to any new people, to being the gal who held all the flat parties and would openly welcome anyone to them. I went from being so shy, to doing a student radio show and stand up comedy. I went from keeping myself to myself, to openly going up to complete strangers in smoking areas and introducing myself and having a chat, and I'm so grateful for this because it's allowed me to make some amazing friends. And whilst it would be easy to say alcohol had a part to play in it, it genuinely didn't. I'd been drunk before uni, and never once expressed an interest in meeting or socialising with new people. Admittedly I get a lot lot lot more drunk now, but it was a change in myself. It was a feeling of being comfortable and proud of who I was. I was happy being me. I still am. And I'm glad I found this confidence at this weight. Some people don't have that. They lose their weight to find it. I think it was a conscious decision to find it naturally. It gave me so much freedom and happiness. Knowing that if I'm talking to someone and they're laughing at my jokes and not running to the high hills, that it's because I've had the confidence to talk to them and they like my personality and probably admire my sass. The last bit was a joke. Sort of. 

Another thing I'm majorly happy about finding before losing weight is my sense of style. Now, I am not claiming at all that I've got a good fashion sense. I quite clearly haven't. But I've found what I like to wear and what I think looks good on me. Checked shirts. I love them. And I don't even care that I look hella gay and look like a stereotype. It's what makes me happy and that's all I care about. Plus looking like a stereotype surely has to help at some point in finding the only other lesbian in a straight bar. And it does help, once in a blue moon. What I'm saying though is, that I now know that I don't need to slim down to get myself a nice dress. When I lose weight, I'm still going to wear all the checked shirts. If anything I'm going to wear more of them because there's more on offer. And what a treat that will be. 

I think that a major concern of being overweight can be what other people say or think about you. I can't lie, this has probably been my main issue. And I'm still battling it, you can read more here: (http://fatfunnyandfabulous.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/just-keep-swimming.html) Thankfully I can proudly say people's comments don't affect me even a little bit as much as they used to. I used to go home and cry when someone would say something to me on the way home from school. But shit words builds thicker skin. And now I've got the thickest skin going and I know that anyone who has shit to say is an actual shithead. And I am way way way more fabulous than they can ever dream to be. And as for people's thoughts about the way I look. I don't care. I'm happy with who I am and if they're bothered by that then they're life is insignificant and it doesn't bother me. Do I worry that a girl won't find me attractive because I'm overweight? Not in the slightest. If they're put off by the fact I'm overweight then they're put off by me, it's part of me and it's made me who I am. Plus I know I can do better than a small minded person like that. And it means when someone actually does like me for me and isn't bothered by it, it just makes it better because it shows they're not arsed and they're a genuinely good all round, and most likely sassy, girl. 99% of the time (we're safe, the ones who aren't sassy definitely won't be reading this).  

So there you have it. I'm happy with who I am. I'm proud of who I am. I think sometimes I can look quite good in the right shirt. I think I can be hilarious. I, mostly, love who I am and I'm confident with that. Obviously it's not 100% because I'm a living, breathing woman in this media obsessed world but that's another blog for another day. I like who I've become, and I hope others do to. It's not what you weigh, but it's who you are and how you work it. And I think I can sometimes work it good, because I don't care. People like me for me, and not for how I look. They like me for my personality, and how I'm funny, and how I'm outgoing. And that is why I don't mind being fat. 

Thank you for reading this slightly deeper and more thoughtful post. I thought for once I'd prove my life isn't just about downing all the wine in sight. If you enjoyed it then please share it anywhere and everywhere. And if you want to get all the latest posts instantly then please like me on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/fatfunnyfabulous or follow me on Twitter: @fatfunnybecca https://twitter.com/fatfunnybecca. And please feel free to get in touch with any comments you have or any suggestions you have for future posts, it is literally my favourite thing to read!

Stay Sassy xoxo

An Open Letter to Anyone Who Wants to Stay In on a Friday Night

I was going to do a deeper and more thoughtful blog today but then I officially hit the 4000 view mark on the blog so wanted to do something more cheerful to celebrate! As it's probably clear from any single blog post on this site, I've cornered myself into a bit of a stereotype of being the person who loves a drink. And whilst that is completely true, there is a lot more to me than that. However this blog post is going to be completely stereotypical and be alcohol focused. 

Every week I'm the person who arranges the nights out. Every week I'm the person who sends the mass text and arranges where we are pre drinking and who is coming. Every week I'm met with a wall of silence and negative replies. And whilst this doesn't phase me in the slightest, I still persist with trying to be a persuasive charmer and forcing people to come out. It obviously never works. And sometimes I almost feel sorry for anyone who's number I have and is Liverpool based, but then I don't and do it all over again the next week (good luck to you all tomorrow). But I recently wrote a letter to a friend to persuade her to come out because I clearly have nothing else to do (apart from apply for all the jobs which is definitely going well for me, and by going well I mean not at all) I decided to write a short essay to make her come out. It didn't work, but I've decided to turn it into a post. So here, ladies and gentlemen, is an open letter to anyone who is even considering socialising on a Friday night. 

Dear whoever it may concern. Which is you. The person who is feeling slightly tempted for a night of sheer fun and jokes and shots and maybe a slight loss of dignity.

The night is Friday. The month is March. The date is the 27^th. And the year is obviously 2015. There’s an electric feeling in the air, a feeling of excitement and sexual tension (but that’s just between us two), a feeling that tonight will be the night of our lives. THE night. This could very well be the night we see our true loves, our eyes will meet across the crowded dance floor or aesthetically pleasing smoking area and it will be instant love and marriage and adopted children. Do we want to miss that opportunity though? Where they take one swift look at us and immediately fall in love? No we don’t. Maybe not even love, just a cheeky neck here and there. That will do, and it will give you a little bit of scandal to tell that one person who never leaves the house, bless them. You may even get to lie to your parents about having a one night stand, is that not what dreams are made of? (top tip, if that's what dreams are made of you may as well just shut that shit down now and find something more enjoyable to do with your life than lying to parents, you're probably 18 plus, we're all adults, get a grip, in a nice way). I mean, the whole one night stand area is clearly not my area of expertise, but if you want tips on what checked shirt to wear or how to be sassy, you know I'm your gal. But back to this night of our lives. Do we want to miss the opportunity of dancing our little feet off and getting our stepometers above the unreachable but reachable goal of 10000? No we don’t. Do we want to miss the chance of me flirting with you using Sims chat up lines, and me serenading you with acapella N-Dubz songs, and us dreaming of achieving our one ambition of creating a Scouting For Girls tribute act? No we definitely don’t. Do you seriously want to miss the chance of a repear performance of me borrowing a homeless man's guitar to perform Adele on Bold Street again? Definitely definitely definitely not. But that’s enough of speculating what we would miss out on if we didn’t share this special night together, let’s have a realistic look at the events that will take place. We will begin the night with snapchatting each other in various states of getting ready, the classic after shower selfie followed by the classic I can’t be bothered to get ready selfie followed by the finished product selfie of us looking semi classy and dignified, before we fuck shit up. And by shit I completely mean our lives and any image we ever had of being a respectable human being. I’ll be getting my hair done on this Friday, which means you definitely can’t miss it as I might look somewhat groomed and like a decent human being tonight which will be nice for us all. Then we have the wonder of predrinks. This is the time to shine. The time to have that semi drunk heart to heart with the girl you never talk to about their failed hopes and dreams, whilst repeatedly informing them you're totally sober. The time to tell someone vaguely familiar about who you now like only to realise the day after that they were the completely the wrong person to tell and now the whole group knows. The time to gather together and belt out a few girlband classics because this is now an ultimate girl's night out with all the girl power because the drunkest girl has announced she's now single so you have to shout GNO a few times and stick on Spice Girls to make her feel better about herself. And then there's the taxi drama because someone will always order too many or too few which leaves 3 rogue people wandering the mean streets of Childwall trying to find one. Now unfortunately this week we can’t do this from the comfort of one of our homes this week, but this just spells the start of a brand new adventure. I know you’re excited. Chances are predrinks will take place in Scream, now known as The Hope & Anchor. They got a new interior design and now think they’re classy. Bless them. But the wine isn’t too badly priced and badly tasting so we can cope with it. The toilets are upstairs but you can’t have it all. Then we will dance our little feet into town to NOT go to the Raz first, because I'm a girl with self control. I’m feeling Cinema Paradiso for once in my life. We'll go to a club, and then I'll have one drink and decide I'm bored and find a fellow bored boy or gal and drag them the Raz with me early. And then 2 hours later everyone will join me, when I've already found a group of poor strangers who have to deal with my drunken anecdotes. But this is when we truly get our chance to shine. The music will be blaring, one from the 60s, 70s, 80s 90s and then some from the 00s. You know the drill. We all do. It brings the only sense of order to the night. Along with knowing we will see some distant face from your past escapades there. And if it’s a guy who's "afterparty" you all went to the week before then I need some back up. Because if I start the Faraday road banter alone I will never survive. He nearly killed me when I was rolling round his floor clutching my one true love, that can of Fosters – so this week he will definitely take one sharp swipe at me. So what I’m saying is I need you there with me. I want you there with me. I crave your company. When the drinks start flowing, and the music starts playing, I want to dance my little heart out with you and take the piss out of people in the smoking area. So let’s do it. You’re essentially my husband or wife (delete as appropriate) without the gay bits (or with them, never say never, although in some cases I'm definitely saying never) Let’s have the night of our lives and make some beautiful memories. Don’t tell me no. Don’t break my heart. Let’s do it.

So if you've read this and feel even slightly tempted to go out, do it. And if you somewhat know me and I have your number, bless your hearts because you will be getting a text tomorrow. I wish you all the luck in the world if you refuse to go out. 

And finally, a massive massive massive thank you to anyone who has read this, or read any of the posts, you're my favourite people ever. And if you've ever come to me and told me you read the blog, or commented on social media then I genuinely love you forever. And if you've ever shared any post ever then you are the greatest people to have ever walked on this ever. All this support means the world and I hope you'll all continue to support this little thing. Don't forget to join our Facebook on https://www.facebook.com/fatfunnyfabulous or Twitter on @fatfunnybecca 

And if you want me to fall in love with you forever then please don't hesitate to share this blog anywhere and everywhere!

Stay Sassy xo

What I'd Do If I Won The Lottery

One of my special skills in life is being broke. I could be given £1000 today and have none of it left by this time tomorrow. Easily - there's plenty of checked shirts and wine to be bought. I permanently spend my life treading the fine line between having no money and being sad and having little money and spending it on cheap alcohol so that I am able to take perfect drunk selfies for one night and one night only. Everyone who knows me well knows that I am terrible with money. I don't know the meaning of the word budget. And now I've actually got a job I definitely don't know the meaning of the word budget. For example, thinking of the amount of money I spend on Friday nights makes me feel physically sick. So winning the lottery would be a dream. I think it would take me a bit longer than a day to spend millions so that would be wonderful. I feel like I could do spectacular things with the money so thought why not tell you them all, in the hope that if anyone reading this wins the lottery, they might give me some. A gal can dream.

1) Move Out
This is obvious. My only plan for the year is move out into a sassy flat with my sassy best friend for a lifetime of wine, parties and gayness. The sooner the better. The longer I spend living with my parents the quicker my soul is slowly drying up. And they know this. They want a life without predrinks and checked shirts everywhere. There's a mutual agreement that they have to go on weekends away to give us space and give me a space for a party each weekend. And by mutual I mean, I force them out of the country both purposely and just accidentally because they're sick of me. I miss living out and being independent-ish and have people round all the time and having pre-parties, parties and after parties, and the favourite part of any night out, the next day analysis. It's less fun over text, there's only so far emojis can convey my true feelings about just how creepy someone was or just how much I ruined my life in one short period of time. And if the flat could be looking over a river or sea or water feature then that would be beautiful. 

2) One Massive Holiday
I would then gather every single person I love and a few I mildly like who can be an occasional laugh and take us all to some distant exotic land to stay for a few weeks in a massive house and just have an absolute ball. There would only be 2 rules: 1) no couples because no one wants to be on holiday as a third wheel, the more fun one can come, and 2) if anyone gets really drunk and is sick on themselves in bed which I definitely definitely clearly have never done, it can never be mentioned again. Especially on Facebook. 

3) American Road Trip
Go to every state for a bit. Get lots and lots of cheap and tacky souvenirs. Get lots and lots of stereotypical selfies in every single place. Sorted. 

4) Buy A Few Casual Houses
I'd become a little modern day sassier Kirsty & Phil and buy a place to waste my life away in a few various locations. I'd have a flat in Manchester & London purely for G-A-Y purposes, then a seaview place in Brighton and LA, then a charming apartment in San Francisco and New York. Clearly I'm apparently winning all the money in the world to be able to afford this but that's never stopped Sarah Beeny (niche reference, I realise this).

5) Open a Liverpool G-A-Y
If you don't know what G-A-Y is then you've clearly not read any of this blog or ever spoken to me or ever had the world's greatest night out. It's the best gay club there is and it's probably impossible to have a bad night out there, unless you're my poor sister when we all got too drunk for her to handle. Or you're my poor sister when she thinks she's the sober one but in a strange and alarming twist of events, I was the sober one. A room wall to wall with gay people is the dream. And the sassy straight boys and gals of this beautiful world. But the closest one is in Manchester, which requires spending £12 on getting the last train there and the first-ish train back home - a charming journey full of shenanigans but once you're walking through Lime Street at 7am with the go getters of the day, all the charm is lost. Therefore I think if we had a Liverpool one and I was in charge of it, then it would probably be an alarming success and even Michelle Visage, my all time idol, would think I was the Queen of the Gay Community. 

6) Bring Out My Own Range of Checked Shirts
I can't even put into words how perfect of a career this would be. And then I would have an entire room filled with all the checked shirts. And I would hire someone to iron them instead of trying to "wear the creases out"

7) Pay Someone To Sing Adele Songs To Me All Day
Adele is one of my many heroes. Her songs are the greatest things to happen to music, apart from S Club, all girlbands and any attractive lesbian who can sing (essentially Lucy Spraggan). So if I could just have someone to serenade me with Adele and slow versions of classic 90's and 00's songs such as the complete works of NDubz, that would be ideal. Even better, I'd just pay Adele all the money in the world to personally sing to me on a weekly basis. I think I'd probably sell my signed Saturdays CD for that. Which would probably get me about £2.50. Bless them. 

8) Get My Own Talk Show
If there's one thing I'm perfect at doing it's interviewing people I've never met before about the deepest darkest secrets, and surprisingly getting perfect answers whilst also subtly taking the piss. Normally this is at 4am after all the wine, and the victim is normally some absolute creep who thinks he's God's gift to the poor women of Liverpool. Transfer this to a studio, with actual famous people, and then let me basically be the UK version of Ellen DeGeneres and I'll never annoy anyone again. Apart from weekly on the TV. And constantly on social media. 

9) Get A Pet Whale
I'd buy a beluga whale and let it live in the sea but just have a really really really long lead so I can take it on walks whilst I stand on a moving boat next to it. That's the plan. 

10) Obviously Open My Own Vineyard
Obviously I'd find a way to make my own wine. Think Echo Falls but classier. I'd make it dirt cheap for all the future fun loving gals, and you'd get a weekly discount if you could prove that you were using your drunkenness for good. Like you gave a fiver to a homeless man because he had a cute dog. Or for not waking up someone's elderly mother at the world's worse excuse of an after party. But if you go for a wee in the woods then you can have it for free because clearly that's punishment enough. Clearly all these stories are completely fictitious and definitely didn't happen at the weekend. 

11) Build My Own Raz in My House
Again, obviously. I'd build a basement club which only played terrible music and then I'd go round the smoking areas of the city and round up some of the most fun characters and let them pop in for a jungle juice or 20. We'd have regular nights where all the faves can come and drink for free (which I seriously think all clubs should introduce) and we can all dance the night and morning and next day away. But if you went home before 4am you'd be banned for life. I don't need that negativity in my life. 

12) Open A PreDrink Business
University provided me with the greatest lesson a girl could ever learn: how to perfect the art of throwing predrinks and afterparties. To the point where it's almost an offence if I go to a below standard one these days. I feel like this knowledge is wasted just on me and I should share it with the world. And eventually I will do a blog post on it, but for now let's all pretend that I could make money from it. 

13) Set Up A Charity
Finally I would actually do something nice and pleasant and set up a charity to help LGBT people everywhere as homophobia is still everywhere and it shouldn't be. But that's a whole new less light hearted blog post. 

Once again if you've read all of this then I adore you in every single way. If you enjoyed it then please feel free to share it on a social media or 20 and please like us on Facebook or follow me on Twitter 

Stay Sassy xo

What To Do When You've Got Nothing To Do

So I'm 21 which definitely isn't old, but it can be an awkward segway age. At 21 you're stuck with friends all on different levels of the maturity path. You may have just finished uni and be lost on a path to nowhere wishing you were back napping and drinking cartoned wine in halls (guess who?), or maybe you've got all your shit together and so are probably secretly hated by your more fun friends. Or maybe you're somewhere beautifully in between. Me? I'm definitely at the bottom of that maturity ladder. I'm clearly 18 at heart. I want to spend ALL my time socialising, drinking, napping, drinking, going out, drinking and maybe the occasional Netflix hangover session. I hate staying in. I can't handle sitting in with my parents watching Midsomer Murders, I'd rather neck David Cameron. Twice. I'm very much still a student, just without pretending I'm going the library as now I've actually got a degree. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Some people have tried to make me feel like I should "grow up" and be responsible, but I'm 21 with no massive pressures on me at this moment in time so why not just enjoy life! And for me enjoying it involves a drunken night once a week. Which is more than fine, I accept I'm probably immature. But a lot of my friends aren't. A lot have matured. Which is great for them, but for me? It means I've sometimes got to work doubly hard to arrange a night out, or a casual pub trip as they've all got actual things happening in their life (I don't know why I never have anything happening in mine), or learn how to enjoy my own company without constantly snapchatting myself lip synching to songs. So I thought I'd create a really unhelpful list of things you can do when you find yourself in a situation which causes you to contemplate Tinder as a night time activity (don't do it kids).

1) Go Out Anyway
This is my favourite. Why let a low attendance of friends stop you having a good night? Make the most of your life and go out anyway. If you're lucky you've probably got that one friend who you know will be game, and chances are you can persuade a third person to come out so that you can all go the toilet individually without leaving a a person dancing alone. I've done the maths, it's my life's work. And if you don't get that third person? That's fine. That's why alcohol was invited. You just befriend some new sassy people when you're out. This is my other life's work. I love some smoking area friends more than I love some members of my family, and would happily see them on a sober level if I didn't think I'd sound creepy telling them this and then texting them like a desperate stalker. And for the fact that they won't remember I exist the next day. I've reached a perfect point in life where the chances are I'll probably know someone in the Raz on a Friday night after about 3am. I know - I'm living the dream. Chances also are some people probably see me arrive and avoid me for the rest of the night - that's fine too. Sometimes a small night is better. I love going to G-A-Y in Manchester and normally there's only ever 3 of us, and we just find a bunch of loners and misfits inside to join us and have the greatest nights ever. So never let the fact that most of your friends want to stay in ever stop you. And if this ever happens on a Friday and I even just vaguely know you, I will happily invite you out with us (I mean I'm not psychic, you'd have to tell me). Unless you want to go to Heebies. No no.  

2) Be A Stalker
Sometimes going out is definitely not an option. So you could be the opposite of sociable and just stalk people on social media. Anyone who says they don't stalk people on social media have probably stalked you so they're lying. It's a great activity, you don't know someone till you've seen all their tagged photos from the past year. If a night gets really boring you could even stalk yourself. I won't lie, I've googled myself. And I learnt that if someone ever wants to social media stalk me then my life is a massive open book and I've given them the easiest job ever. Just be careful. We don't want any accidental likes or retweets because then you have to cancel it and that's awkward for all people involved. 

3) Netflix could be an option...
By could be, I mean always. If you're faced with having a night in totally alone, stick on Netflix, find yourselves a television series that has probably been overhyped and watch it and pretend you like it to sound cool. You know the ones. I've been known to pretend to like Breaking Bad, Game Of Thrones and Pretty Little Liars all to mask the lie that I spend my entire time just watching Grey's Anatomy, Dance Moms and Drag Race. And maybe the L Word or Orange Is The New Black if I'm feeling extra gay. 

4) Snapchat
I won't lie, I'm the self pronounced queen of snapchat. If you don't have me on it, you're missing out. Unless you hate pretend music videos and photos of me pouting in every toilet in Liverpool, then I'm not your gal. On most nights I'm home alone I resort to constantly filming myself miming to a whole host of songs because someone once told me it was funny and now it's become my favourite hobby. Plus I can't sing at all so I feel like it's my one and only chance to be a popstar. So there's something to look forward to if you don't have me on snapchat yet, good luck with that journey. 

5) Take Up A Hobby
You also could get a hobby to get you through these lonely winter nights. I always say I'm going to take up a hobby but then I remember I've got the shortest attention span in the entire world so get bored too too easily. For example, I tried to learn the recorder today. I lasted 5 minutes at a push. Genuinely true story (I think I was still drunk from last night). 

6) Read? Or maybe not
Books are apparently a good thing. I used to love reading until I found YouTube and wine. Now a book is nothing but a forgotten memory. But if you start reading then it's probably something quite impressively intelligent to tell someone. I actually want to get back into reading as I feel like I used to be quite educated but then I studied media and now I can't remember what algebra is or the capital city of Norway. However if you're reading this and consistently make spelling and grammar mistakes then can I please insist you stop reading this and read a real book instead. There's only so much for this apostrophe confusion I can take. 

7) Ring Someone - Do people still do this?
If you're bored in alone because all your friends have excuses then chances are they're probably not going to want to hear from you as they're too busy being responsible adults cooking risotto and watching The Hotel Inspector. But you could give it a try. Everyone loves a trier. Unless you're a creepy man trying to get off with someone in a club. Then no one loves you. 

8) Start a Blog
That's what I did. Now if I'm bored I'll just post a blog post and then pray that at least one person reads it so I can pretend I've got a mate for the night. Until I realise it's my mum. 

If you've read this then thank you very much. Sorry it wasn't amazing, I'm struggling off 4 hours of sleep and too much alcohol as I tried to go out for a quiet drink on Paddy's Day and rolled in at 5am. Even I'm not surprised at this anymore. 
If you've found this even mildly amusing then please like my Facebook page here: https://www.facebook.com/fatfunnyfabulous or follow me on Twitter here: https://twitter.com/fatfunnybecca

And if you really liked it then please feel free to share it on any social media form and I'll probably want to marry you. Unless you're related to me. 

Stay Sassy xo

Just Keep Swimming...

Following on from the last post about how to have a successful night out, I decided to have go out last night and follow none of my own specially created rules. Apart from the drunken text one, but what’s new there. Which meant I didn’t have as good as a night as I could have of. Although I did discover a new hobby of coming home too early and creating my own club in the garden with headphones, a large vodka and all the sass a girl can dream of in a sleepy suburb in Liverpool at 4am. Literally dancing around the garden at 5am was probably the highlight of my month so far.

I see myself as a positive person, someone who tries to make the best out of any situation – because what’s the point in looking at the bad side of it all. However I’m also a dramatic person. I think it’s due to my constant love of attention, my need to always talk and socialise and my Liverpool all girls’ school background. If you spend most of your formative days surrounded by hundreds of dramatic scouse girls looking for drama in the smallest of situations then chances are you’re going to inherit some dramaticness. If only that was a real word (I’m hungover, I don’t have time for a thesaurus). However although I do love being a bit dramatic every now and then, my problem lies in when something bad actually happens to me people can sometimes think I’m being dramatic and have exaggerated the situation. Kind of like the boy who cried wolf. But sassier.

Nights out are second nature for me. I know how to go out, have a good time, have minimal drama and make the best of every night as you do only live once. But sometimes if I’m not in the right mood, or the right type of drunkenness, or just aren’t clicking with the environment then I don’t find it as easy to have an amazing time. And this only happens because of one reason. Verbal abuse.

I’m not the thinnest of girls, or the prettiest of girls, or the stereotypical of girls. I’m overweight, dress very obviously gay with the suavest of checked shirts and I’d rather play chess every minute for the rest of my life than give a boy any second of romantic attention. But that’s who I am. And I love who I am. But sometimes in a packed club full of drunken idiots people aren’t always accepting of this. So they say horrible things. About my weight. Or my appearance. Or about me being gay. And 99% of times this doesn’t phase me at all. It’s almost commonplace to me. It shouldn’t be, but it is. There are certain places in town where I know chances are I will get some sort of thing said to me or about me within earshot. And unfortunately some of these places are where some of my friends love to go. Fortunately their comments mean so little to me that I can never recall what they actually say the next day. If only their comments had so much of an effect that I instantly changed my life. Weight comments would make me immediately start an eat clean diet and live in the gym. No. Although I am in the process of losing weight, I actually sort of like how I look and I’ve got a semi strong eyebrow game so that’s all that’s important. Plus my personality is killer (total joke, I’m the worst). Homophobic comments would make me wear dresses and fancy all the boys. No. I’m really proud of who I am and for coming out and for living my life the way I want to live it when many others can’t. I would never be able to part with any checked shirt and the thought of a penis coming anywhere near me makes me want to vomit everywhere. Unless it’s Zac Efron. Homophobic people only encourage me to be prouder of being gay and fancy more girls. So it’s a win win. Comments about my appearance and about how no one would ever fancy me would make me do something drastic with my face and endlessly and desperately seek a bae. No. If someone doesn’t like me for the way I am now then they’re clearly not sassy enough for me. Someone will eventually find me attractive and like my personality and be able to handle all my drunken antics, snapchats and stories. And until then, I’m not arsed. I’ll keep liking all the wrong people until it turns out they’re the right person. And I’ll keep waiting for a call from The Undateables. Most of the time the comments don’t affect me, because I’m in a good mood and I’m drunk and I know I’m more fabulous than they can ever dream to be. The harsh reality is most weeks I go out I will get something said to me, but I never make a big deal about it because I don’t want to give anyone the satisfaction that they’ve bothered me in some way. However on a few nights out of they year, sometimes the comments will affect me/ I’ve probably had a bit of a shit day, are too sober to be in that club anyway, and one comment will just push me over the edge and make me annoyed and want to leave immediately. Understandable I think. But the issue is because none of my friends really see it, simply because why would they be on the lookout for something a guy in a low cut V neck says to me in the middle of Baa Bar, there’s a bit of chaos sometimes when I suddenly want to leave the club they want to be in because of an incident that I can’t really prove happened. I wish I was lying to them. I wish I was that desperate to go the Raz that I was making up the stories. But there’s dickheads in this fine world so unfortunately it’s the truth. But it’s even worse when they openly say they don’t believe it or maybe I’m just imagining it. Please. I’ve got no time to make shit up. If I’m going to make something up, I’d rather it be more creative like I’m Adele’s official eyebrow game icon. Plus I’m really not that desperate for attention. I’d rather sit quietly on my own in a corner for a whole week than make up fake stories of abuse for attention. If you’ve seen me on a night out, as long as I’ve got someone to dance with or someone to talk to in the smoking area, then I couldn’t be less bothered about attention in the slightest.

I pride myself on not letting these dickheads affect me, so on the one night it does, someone doubting my entire story is offensive. I’m already annoyed that I’ve allowed myself to be bothered; I don’t need to be bothered more. But if I spent the rest of the night being bothered then that would be no fun. So the only thing to do is move on to a new club, get a new drink, dance my little heart out to a charming little song and spread the sass. And I’m incredibly proud of myself that little things like this don’t stop me being who I am or going out and having a good time. It would be easy to just conform and try and not get the odd comment said, or to stay in so I wouldn’t have to risk it. No. That’s not who I am. So I’ll keep wearing my checked shirts, I’m never going to be a size 0 so I’ll make the most of what I’ve got, and I’ll keep my personality and attitude to life because it’s not made me do too bad so far. Essentially, I’ll just keep swimming.

If you’ve made it to the end of this rant of a blog, congratulations! Sorry it wasn’t as amusing as n it could have been. Normal service will resume on Wednesday!

Stay Sassy xo

How To Try & Not Ruin Your Life On A Night Out...Sort Of

They say write about what you know. And if there's one thing I know about more than anything, apart from being a sassy checked shirt wearing lesbian, it's how to get drunk and make the most of a night out. I'm currently dying of a horrendous midweek hangover so all my mind can think about today is alcohol and recovering from alcohol, which means this is what my blog will have to be about today. It's a miracle I'm even able to type. You're all welcome. Some people frown upon drinking too much alcohol, especially medical people. And the bores. But I say there ain't no party like a wine party so I strongly encourage drinking. How else are you meant to serenade passers by with a homeless man's guitar? I'm not advising you spend every night downing all the vodka in sight, but the odd (or every) Friday night is a spectacular idea. So I thought, after years of practice and perfecting the science, I thought I would give some clearly amazing tips on how to not ruin your life on a night out...sort of. 

But first some drinking context so I can prove my credentials. I only starting drinking 3 years ago, a month before I turned 18. Because apparently I used to be a sensible soul. And I was terrified of being sick. I even went to Glastonbury & Magaluf without getting that drunk. Then I went to university and somehow found myself as the person who held all the pre drinks, perfected the art of throwing an amazing party and pissing off everyone I lived with, and managed to get myself known by most of the staff & regulars in a certain Liverpool haunt. Contrary to what this blog might make me look like, I don't drink every night and get black out drunk all the time - I just have my weekly night out and make a few mistakes along the way. I like to think of myself as someone who knows how to have a good time, within reason & without drugs, but with a cheeky drunken cigarette thrown in for good measure. So let's explore my personal tips on how to have an alright night out. 

1) The Perfect Predrinks 
I'm not one to brag but I see myself as a bit of an expert on predrinks. In fact the knowledge I have is enough to cover a whole new blog post, and it will do, eventually (so don't all get too excited). A good predrinks is the key to a good night out. Preferably it needs to have a bit of a party atmosphere: in someone's flat or house with the greatest playlist of all the songs you never would admit you love (Jamelia & Gabrielle), with a good group of people who don't take themselves too seriously and are more than happy to dance at any given moment. I have spent years of my life perfecting the predrinks experience to the point where if you're reading this and haven't attended one of mine, then you have my deepest sympathies and my most sincerest invite to the next one. I lived in student accommodation for nearly two years and although I wasn't always best friends with people I lived with (again, another blog post) I created the signature piece every predrinks needs. A moment. In my case it's the Adele moment. This is when about half an hour before everyone is good to go, when everyone is drunk but hasn't yet got itchy feet, you whack on a classic song and serenade each other. I chose Someone Like You. And it's probably one of my favourite memories in life. To the point now where if the song is played anywhere, or anytime, someone will always shout my name so I can pretend I'm Adele for the 53083085th time. 

2) Choosing the Right Club at the Right Time
I'm pretty confident that the decision of what club to go to and when causes more stresses, drama and arguments than any other life event. Probably. Everyone always wants to start and end in different places, and no one will ever agree. So you normally have to negotiate and go with the majority and end up in a place where the lampost outside has more personality and prospects than most of the cretins inside. I personally don't bother and go wherever I want to go and moan if we go somewhere we don't like, but that's because I'm a dick. I will always try anywhere more than once, it all just depends on my actual mood that night. But my top advice is just go the place everyone wants to go, then sneak off and do your own thing. Essentially you can take me to as many places as you want, you'll just be able to find me in the Raz at 4am without a shadow of a doubt. 

3) Sing & Dance Like You're Adele & Beyonce Combined
There's nothing worse than being on a night out with someone who is just standing on the dance floor still and not giving their all to the latest One Direction song. If you can't pretend you're Harry Styles on a Friday night for a fleeting minute, when can you? I don't believe there's a lack of talent on a dance floor, just a lack of enthusiasm. Technically I'm actually a trained singer and dancer through LIPA. I was 10 and quit after a year because as it turns out, I can't sing or dance, but technically I probably sort of count as alumni. Maybe. But I haven't let lack of talent stop me. No no. I don't care if you are a little open mic superstar, or if you can't hold a single note in tune like my charming self, when any song with words is played, I want to hear you belt out every single word loudly and proudly. And when Girls Aloud comes on, I want you to pretend you are Cheryl herself and perform every dance move known to man. Otherwise, just go home. And never go out again.

4) Why hold back Drunk Texting or Snapchatting?
Oh dear god, if there's one thing I can excel at it's drunk texting and snap chatting. I'm a true professional. Once you've came out via drunk texting you know you've reached your limit of having absolutely no dignity left. My motto is, go wild. Drunk text all you like, whether it's to friends, family or anyone you even find mildly attractive. Do it. My theory is, if they can't handle you drunk and fabulous, then they don't deserve you sober and sassy. I love receiving a drunk text, but that's probably because I love any form of social interaction. So go for it. Have no regrets. I spend my life saying I will stop drunk texting, and yet I constantly wake up and want to throw my phone away. No regrets. And if you fancy spiralling out of control and turning to snapchat to send personal selfies of yourself to certain people, just do it. Because you'll never be able to see that photo again so you can just pretend it never happened. Unless you decide to add every single photo and video to your snapchat story to give people a 300 second delightful short film to watch when they wake up. Because apparently that's now my favourite activity. Essentially if I have you on snapchat I apologise profusely. Although who doesn't want photos of me pouting in every club toilet in Liverpool?

5) Take All the Selfies All the Time
Do it. I take approximately 3500 photos for every night out. Each one I will spend a good few seconds longer than necessary trying to make my fringe suave. Then I wake up and see how horrendous all the photos are and decide they will never see the light of day. However occasionally you will get that special one, and be so made up that you have found a new profile picture and choose that perfect Instagram filter to only have just your mum like it on Facebook. True story. 

6) Strictly No Drama...Unless it's Major Goss
If there's one fact in life is that if you get a group of girls all together with countless bottles of Echo Falls and Glen's vodka then there's going to be some form of drama. From someone bitching about someone else to another girl desperately wanting to be single/a new boyfriend/an ex boyfriend/their actual boyfriend to another girl thinking her life is over for whatever reason - there will be something. My answer is this: if you see someone having a bit of drama, tell them to get a grip and avoid them till they've got that grip. Only 1 exception to this rule - if its MAJOR drama. If someone confesses their undying love, or does something especially scandalous, you have 2 jobs: get all the gossip, then run to the other side of the club and keep dancing. No one wants to be stuck with the crier. And I've been the crier many a time so I can say this. 

7) Work Your Smoking Areas
The smoking area is my time to shine. I don't smoke sober, I think it's a horrible habit. But then I have a few drinks and I want a cigarette to make me drunker and allow me to socialise with absolute strangers. So technically I'm a sort of smoker. Only a social & drunk one. Don't judge. The amount of people who claim they don't smoke/hate smoking/have asthma and then crawl out of the woodwork once they see a packet going round at 4am is shocking. I LOVE a smoking area. I don't know why I enjoy befriending every single poor boy and girl but it's probably one of my favourite hobbies. Plus the amount of vague friendships I've made whilst smoking is almost beautiful. And the amount of people I've told my exact work shifts and location is almost terrifying. But sort of beautiful. Plus it's extra beautiful when you see them a few weeks later and can bond over how much of a drunken mess you were and then dance together and confirm you are best friends all over again. It's my mission in life to know every person who goes to Raz, and I can't lie, it's scary how well I'm doing on this life choice. 

8) To Neck or Not To Neck?
I'm not a big club necker. Simply because of 3 things: I'm not the most attractive of gals ( for what I lack in looks I more than make up for in sass), I'm not actually observant enough to even notice if anyone flirts with me, and the challenge of finding someone even vaguely bisexual in a straight club is often far too much effort for me to attempt to try. My gaydar is perfect, but then I get distracted by S Club playing and instead try to be Rachel Stevens. Plus some of my past experiences in this area have ended in phone calls from angry girlfriends, homophobic abuse and the slight issue of sexual assault which are clearly my dream 3 events. We can joke about this all now, but my track record is absolutely shocking. And I would do a blog all about this but there's not a chance I can be bothered to personally blog about people. I'd feel too much like Perez Hilton and no no no, we all saw Big Brother. However, when it comes to club necking, my motto is why not. If they seem like a normal character and not a creep, you may as well. If an attractive bisexual/lesbian wanted to neck me, I wouldn't say no, who would. So go wild. Unless they look like they could be a killer/in a relationship/is a dick to your friends/you are just out with another person and it would mean them being abandoned. Don't be that person who gets off with a dick. 

9) When You Have to be the Third Wheel
There has been many a time that I have been so much of a third wheel that I may as well have come out dressed as a tyre. I have 3 tips if you've been left: either go make some new mates in the smoking area, dance alone, or drunk tinder. These are your only options. And if you do all three of these at the same time, you're bound to at least have a mildly hilarious anecdote in the morning. Possibly. 


Hopefully you can put some of these tips to use at some point in your life, and if you do, let me know how it goes via Facebook or Twitter along with any comments or future post suggestions!

Stay Sassy xo