But Ben this is a blog post, there's nothing to eat, unless your dog has a good stomach for silicon and glass. And you don't even have a dog anyway.
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| Fooled yet again by that blasted species! |
Ahem. So due to my unwavering laziness I have once again found myself behind on posts, so you'll have to do with another gripping update on the plans for my new flat, complete with atrociously framed photographs taken with my disappointing camera phone. I'm naming and shaming you, HTC One X+. Go think about what you've done.
We began with my bedroom, so I think we should move into...the kitchen. Now whereas my room and the living room (which shall be covered next time on Blog Filler Decorating) are most undoubtedly my domain when it comes to design choice, the kitchen belongs entirely to my good friend and flatmate, Georgia.
Georgia is so twee it hurts. When her blood clots, it turns into doilies. Her cat is shaped like a teapot and shits cupcakes. As such, the kitchen is very swiftly turning into the set of a Famous Five novel. Here's what it looks like so far:
What do your elf eyes see, Legolas? Those attentive few among you could probably spot the tell-tale signs of an insidious twee infestation in each of these picture. At the top there you'll see a frying pan on the wall. Its about the same size as a digestive biscuit, and not one of us knows where the hell it came from, it was just in Nadine's kitchen storage box. Who buys a frying pan that's even too small to cook up your morning meth in? So any self-deprecating-respecting person would obviously take the opportunity to use it as an ornament, thus it is now on the wall; and to finish off the look we're now sourcing a mini wooden spoon and spatula to go with it.
It's really just a lucky coincidence that the tiles in the kitchen fit in so well what with that lovely floral pattern and beautiful shade of light brown. It reminds me a little of that final trickle at the end of a really thorough enema. That said, it does add the finishing flair to a room that already has a set of bright pink oven gloves, a cheesy "Friends" picture frame (currently displaying some airbrushed happy people, not us), a Marmite biscuit tin and the crowning glory of the room, the clock. Just, wow, that clock. My parents actually have one very similar to it at home but somehow this is just so much worse; I was forward-thinking enough to take a quick snap of it before we put it up.
Whoever made this either thinks that shade of yellow has a lovely subtle tone to it that doesn't make your eyeballs grow hair to try and dull it's glare or has not yet bought a new crockery set since they inherited their current one from grandma von Trapp.
But this is not enough, oh no! To really offset that yellow and brighten up the room a little more, we're going to get a lovely artificial sunflower in a jug to go on the table. Under the thinly veiled sarcasm I do actually like the look of that. And the home-made lemonade kit with matching ice bucket. Then all that's left is a nice menu board, which I believe we may actually be making ourselves, and some cookery and cocktail books to go on the shelf in the corner.
You may now vomit kittens into your antique cake stand.
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| I'm not angry, just disappointed. |
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| I couldn't think of a caption worthy enough to put under this picture. |
Georgia is so twee it hurts. When her blood clots, it turns into doilies. Her cat is shaped like a teapot and shits cupcakes. As such, the kitchen is very swiftly turning into the set of a Famous Five novel. Here's what it looks like so far:
What do your elf eyes see, Legolas? Those attentive few among you could probably spot the tell-tale signs of an insidious twee infestation in each of these picture. At the top there you'll see a frying pan on the wall. Its about the same size as a digestive biscuit, and not one of us knows where the hell it came from, it was just in Nadine's kitchen storage box. Who buys a frying pan that's even too small to cook up your morning meth in? So any self
It's really just a lucky coincidence that the tiles in the kitchen fit in so well what with that lovely floral pattern and beautiful shade of light brown. It reminds me a little of that final trickle at the end of a really thorough enema. That said, it does add the finishing flair to a room that already has a set of bright pink oven gloves, a cheesy "Friends" picture frame (currently displaying some airbrushed happy people, not us), a Marmite biscuit tin and the crowning glory of the room, the clock. Just, wow, that clock. My parents actually have one very similar to it at home but somehow this is just so much worse; I was forward-thinking enough to take a quick snap of it before we put it up.
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| All it's missing is for all the crockery to dance and play music on the hour. |
But this is not enough, oh no! To really offset that yellow and brighten up the room a little more, we're going to get a lovely artificial sunflower in a jug to go on the table. Under the thinly veiled sarcasm I do actually like the look of that. And the home-made lemonade kit with matching ice bucket. Then all that's left is a nice menu board, which I believe we may actually be making ourselves, and some cookery and cocktail books to go on the shelf in the corner.
You may now vomit kittens into your antique cake stand.
 |
| The colours all taste the same and I felt sick after eating more than two, a bit like french fancies. |
But It Could Be...
A Cocktail Bar
How awesome would it be to have your own bar! Who needs a place to prepare food when you have an unlimited supply of booze and a library of drinks recipes. Plus I'm pretty sure there's a dietician somewhere who insists that living off straight spirits and glacé cherries is a safe and healthy way to maintain a good figure, so that's a bonus.
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