And this, my friends, is why my blog will never be fashion/beauty tip themed...

So today when I looked in the mirror I noticed my face was looking a little blotchier than normal.  Nothing too extreme, I mean I didn't suddenly feel the need to call Disease Control and warn them about an outbreak of flesh eating bacteria, but given that it was a Sunday and I had no plans to go anywhere, I thought it might be a good excuse for a little self-pampering.

My pampering of choice?  To try an aspirin and lemon juice face mask that Dr Oz had waxed poetical about online.  I had the ingredients and the time, what could it hurt?

Yeah, I probably should have just stuck to grabbing a Cornetto from the freezer if I wanted to treat myself so badly.

Rather than try to explain how it went, I think a step by step is in order.  So here you go!  Feel free to follow along if you have the ingredients ... although I wouldn't recommend it.

1. Grab six uncoated aspirins and one lemon.
2. Mash up the aspirins with a mortar and pestle ... or if you're me, with the handle of a screwdriver you find lying next to the TV unit.
3. Mix the powdered aspirin with the lemon juice until it creates a paste, then smear it all over your face.  
4. Try not to panic, it's supposed to look like that.
5. Restrain yourself from swearing as the lemon juice works its way into all the tiny cuts and blemishes you never even realised were on your face.
6. Give up trying not to swear and let loose with a string of blasphemy that has your neighbours covering their kid's ears and sailors blushing.  
7. Try to distract yourself from the constant stinging with something more pleasant ... like a colonoscopy.
8. Give up waiting for it to dry completely and rush to the bathroom, submerging your face in the sink and scrubbing away.
9. Scream as you accidentally let the lemon juice run into your eyes.  Didn't think about that, did you, genius!
10. Heave a sigh of relief as the stinging finally abates ... but be reminded ever few minutes as you keep detecting the faint taste of lemon on your lips.
11. Look in the mirror and realise that, even after all your suffering, there doesn't seem to be a damned bit of difference in your skin tone.
12. Go to the freezer and grab a Cornetto to console yourself with.  

And this, kids, is why this blog will never become fashion/beauty tips themed.  I really should know better by now.

And shame on you, Dr Oz!  Shame!

An open letter: kittens are surprisingly uninterested in fashion trends, so you probably shouldn't pierce them...

Dear Pennsylvania animal groomer,

There's a reason that adorable kitten videos are the most watched things on Youtube.  Why?  Because most people out there like kittens.  We think they're cute, especially if they're batting around something shiny or chasing their own tails.  We especially like them if they're lying on their backs and freeze every time someone points at them, it seems.

So surely you must have realised there was going to be quite the uproar when people found out you took a bunch of kittens and pierced their ears, necks and tails with a 14 gauge needle, and then hung heavy barbell jewellery from them.  Did it even occur to you that some of us might find your vision of a "gothic kitten" a bit disgusting?

How the hell were you even able to do it?  I can barely stand to make Gypsy hold still long enough to brush snarls out of her fur because it always seems to hurt her so much!  Usually I just hack them out as best I can with a pair of scissors and get a groomer to do a proper job every few months.  How could you stand to hurt them like that?

Was it because you wanted a pet that reflected your sense of individuality and unique style?  Cause if it is then I've got to say I think you're overestimating just how much of a unique little snowflake you really are.  But if that was your motivation, why couldn't you have just dressed them in weird costumes and posted pictures of them on Instagram like the rest of us?

I don't claim to be a perfect pet owner.  God knows I let Gypsy eat things she shouldn't and I probably should do something about her borderline psychotic obsession with my knitting wool, but I'd never be able to do anything to hurt her.  I just can't understand how you could.

So on behalf of both myself and Gypsy the Feline Dictator, I'd like to wish you a very long, boring and humiliating six months of house arrest.

Yours sincerely,

Kellie & Gypsy

Racist ass-hole or stupid kid, the jury's still out...

Sometimes when I'm scouring the news sites, as is my wont, I'll come across a story that I can't quite make up my mind about.  I tend to aim my rapier like wit and keen intellect (stop laughing!) at the stories that range from the ridiculous to the sublime, but sometimes I'll find one that's not funny, not ridiculous, and leaves me feeling conflicted and a little uncomfortable.

Take this story for example, about a Wisconsin student who put some horrendously racist, and quite frankly threatening, items on the desk of another student who happened to be black.  This is a perfect example of a situation where I can't quite decide where I sit.

For those whose link clicking finger is broken (or who can't be assed), a 15 year old student in Baldwin thought it would be funny to put a hand made noose and a KKK symbol on the desk of one of the only three black students in the school.

Sometimes I can't help but weep for the future.

The student was originally given a one day in-school suspension, which has since been upped to a longer out of school suspension, but there are people who think that he should have been expelled and had criminal charges brought against him.  I can see their point.  Just because he's a kid doesn't mean he shouldn't be accountable for what he does.

But on the other hand, this is a 15 year old kid we're talking about.  A stupid, immature kid who probably wasn't thinking of the consequences of his actions.  A kid who, in a few years time, is probably going to really regret having done it.

There's one thing I'm not conflicted about though.  What he did was NOT okay. I was involved in a discussion on Boxing Day where we were talking about how the fight against homophobia was our generation's battle, like the fights against sexism and racism were fought by previous generations.  But of course it's easy to forget that just because most people have woken up to the fact that a person's race doesn't define their significance, doesn't mean that there aren't still some real ass-holes out there.

So what are your opinions?  Do you think he got off too lightly, or do you think that you have to cut stupid teenagers a bit of slack?  Personally, I'm still torn.

Vintage lives, vintage wives...

I've always been a little bit obsessed with the 30's and 40's.  I really do love that whole World War II era, the styles, the fashion, the movies and the music.  I remember as a kid I used to watch all the old films they'd show on a Sunday afternoon, lots of black and white movies full of pin waves and army uniforms.  

But as much as I love that era, I don't think I'd ever be able to live in it.  I'm far too addicted to my mod-cons.  I need my iPad, and my microwave, and my wifi internet access.  But apparently there's a whole host of men and women out there who are choosing to live that lifestyle today.

The video below is a documentary I found that follows three women who've chosen to be "Vintage Wives", showing their lives and the sacrifices they've had to make to live like that.  Sure, it's a bit cutesy, but it's definitely worth a watch if you're into that sort of thing.  It goes for about 20 minutes though, so make sure you set a bit of time aside before pressing play.

I found it interesting that the three women seemed to have one thing in common, they used their lifestyles as an escape from the rest of the world.  They didn't really want to be part of it, preferring to socialise with other Vintage Lifestylers.  The documentary seemed to insinuate that this was a bad thing, that they were running away, but that seemed a bit harsh to me.  Sure, they were actively avoiding the 21st Century, but that was because they'd found something that suited them better.

Either way, it was fascinating to see the amount of detail that had gone into their homes, their clothes, how they did their housework, and how they navigated the "real" world when they couldn't avoid it.  I really don't think I could do it, but more power to them!

What do you guys think?  Could you live like these people?

If any long lost elderly relatives want to make me their heir, I'm totally up for that...

Who among us hasn't dreamed of some long lost relative suddenly appearing out of the blue, then conveniently popping their clogs and leaving them a disgustingly large fortune?  I know I certainly have!  Many an hour I've spent imagining Great Aunt Esmerelda, who is both conveniently rich and conveniently over the age of 95, and who leaves her entire estate to little old me.

So when I read about this poor bloke who died homeless and penniless, only for it to be discovered soon after that he was in the running to inherit a share of a three hundred million dollar fortune from a relative he didn't even know he had, I was astounded by the irony of it.  So close, and yet so far!

Poor bastard.  He had happen to him what everyone dreams of, but he didn't even get to live long enough to find out!

Of course it's not likely to happen to me.  I'm not even sure where this long lost relative would come from.  Our family is pretty well researched, at least for the past few generations, thanks to an aunt on one side and a first cousin once removed on the other.  In fact, I think the only person we don't really know that much about is my paternal grandfather.

My grandfather ... doesn't he
look like the sort to have
rich relatives?

My grandfather came from The Ukraine and we haven't got the foggiest idea of what family he might have left behind there, although my father tells me that he was one of twelve children and lived on a farm.  Is it possible one of those twelve kids grew up to be a completely childless millionaire?

One can dream, I suppose.

But I think if I'm waiting for a rich relative to suddenly appear from Eastern Europe I'll be waiting a long time.  Lets be honest here, how many multi-millionaires have you heard of coming from The Ukraine?

Exactly.

But ... just in case ... Aunt Esmerelda, you know I always loved you the most, right?

Lost at the mall: a tale of terror...

Day 1: "I think I'll go shopping" I said.  "It'll be fun" I said.  And now here I am, twelve hours later, and do you think I can find the way out?  Seriously, when did this place get so big?  And why the hell do I keep ending up in front of The Body Shop?  But I won't give up, the exit has to be around here somewhere.

Day 3:  The provisions ran out about half way through the first day.  I probably should have prepared better, but now I'm having to survive off vending machine snacks and half a Subway six inch I found abandoned on a bench.  But I'm not giving up, the exit has to be here somewhere!

Day 6:  It's been two days since I last saw a shop I recognise.  Oh, what I wouldn't give for a glimpse of and EB Games.  But no, I keep wandering past store after store with names I've never even heard of before.  How can there be so many shops I don't recognise?

Day 10:  I've now given up all hope of ever leaving this place.  If anyone finds this, use this log as a warning to others.  Sure you might think you're just popping into the shops for a quick half hour, but ten days later when you're resorting to drinking out of the decorative fountain in front of the information desk you'll realise just how wrong you were. 

Tell my family that I love them.

I'm used to being lost when I'm in the car, god knows I've spent enough time driving around in circles trying to work out how I got to where I was.  But  now I can't even find my way around in my local shopping complex?

I only popped in to check out a particular sale I was interested in, and if I'd stuck to going to that store and then back to my car I would have been just fine, but I had to get curious.  I had to decide to wander around a little to see if there were any other sales.  I had to go and get myself lost for three quarters of an hour!!!

Have any of you ever been lost in a shopping centre before?  You end up in this weird timeless zone, where it could be day or night or the zombie apocalypse out there and you'd never know.  I ended up wandering around, looking desperately for someone I could ask for directions, but the only person I found was a sales assistant in a clothing store who either didn't know how I could find the west entrance, or didn't care.

But eventually I found a familiar looking shop, which lead to another, which lead to the food court and to the exit closest to my car.  Thank god for that!  I don't think I could have survived on mall food for very long.

So learn from my experience, kiddies.  When you go to the mall, make sure you take a map ... or at least leave a trail of breadcrumbs so you can find your way out again.

MI6 teaches us the importance of deleting one's browser history...

Sometimes I read something and I can't help but be offended.  Just how stupid do they think I am?  I mean I like a good conspiracy theory as much as the next person, but this one really takes the cake.

"Gareth Williams, the MI6 worker found naked and dead inside a padlocked bag in the bath at his London apartment in 2010 probably did it to himself, Scotland Yard has found."

Oh sure, that's what those intelligence agencies always say, right?  He shot himself in the head.  She poisoned herself and then threw herself off the balcony of a twenty story building.  He tied himself to the wall of an industrial building and attached twenty thousand volt electrical cables to his own nipples.

I'm not falling for that old chestnut, secret service people!

But then the story got a bit weirder ... if that's even possible.

"His landlord testified that she once found him handcuffed to his bed, embarrassed and asking for help."

Huh, okay, so that's definitely a bit suspicious.  But still, it's totally possible that they paid off the landlady!  Slipped her a quick fifty to get her to agree to it?

"Meantime, forensic experts reportedly found about $32,000 worth of luxury women's clothing, shoes and wigs in his apartment."

Ahh ... well yeah, that's quite the expensive kink ... but still doesn't mean he locked himself into a gym bag in his own bathtub.  I'm going to need more evidence than that to believe you, Scotland Yard!

"Williams was also found to have been visiting bondage and sadomasochism websites, including several related to claustrophilia - a desire for confinement in enclosed spaces."

Oh come on, this is all circumstantial evidence!  Just because he had a kink, a very specific kink granted, that doesn't mean he did it to himself!  I mean, how would you even get to that point!

"He was discovered in the fetal position inside the red holdall, with two keys to the padlock also inside the bag."

Okay, okay, I'll concede, against my better judgement.  It's entirely possible that they're telling the truth.

Today's life lesson is brought to you by the good people at MI6, showing us why you should always have a designated person to get rid of your browser history and clean up any "questionable items" in the event of your death.