18 July 2015

Some Things I've Learnt



Sex is overrated unless you are screwing someone you really like. Most of the guys I've 'hooked up with' I've found very attractive, even when they've  delivered  lines like 'you need to find someone to love you' or 'Anna, I'm very complex' or maybe 'I'm too tortured for you'. Sadly, they never fully delivered. 

 I was exposed to erectile disfunction (peak) and a sick joke kind of attempt to rein-act a scene in  50 Shades of Grey whereby I was casually choked half to death. The biggest let down  was when a guy only lasted for two songs out of Arctic Monkey's critically acclaimed 'AM' album. Cum on man.

Unless you've found ur Prince Charming, Romeo, or Spencer Matthews- do it yourself (you know what I mean).


A couple years ago I developed a huge crush on this guy. Honestly I don't know why now but back then I assume I dug his long hair and feminine features. Any way, it surfaced after I started to pursue him relentlessly, that he was a drug dealer. BaD bOi status and all that am I rite?! 

For the next few months, I'd pick up enough  hash to get a baby mouse stoned just to 'meet up'. Caught up in this whirl wind of hedonism and HERBS!!!!! I think I considered these 'pick ups', dates. Today I'm still not sure whether this all was cute or very, very sad. Perhaps both. 

One time I lost the hash (it fell off my key chain) and the other time I gave it to my friend, desperate to get it away from me. Once I met him where he worked and was so nervous that I got a heat rash on my neck and watched him make coffee.

It didn't end well. Use your brains kids.



I was a chubby kid, a butter ball, a dumpling,whatever you want to imagine. The irony being I thought I was shit hot, wearing my thick skateboarding shoes to school that looked like limited edition MBTS and was known by my peers as 'the snack time trader'. This role included me coaxing  people to swap there kit kats in for my apple or 'health bar'. My mom seemed surprised that her efforts to  adopt health into my lifestyle  weren't paying off.

As I got older and more aware of how my Abercrombie and Fitch clung differently to me than the other girls, the self belief plummeted. I thought dressing like a slut would make me look better, but turns out guys prefer skinny sluts to bigger ones! Even at Capital VIP!!! Even at Let's Go Crazy!! Crazy with ANGER more like lol !!!!!! 

However, in retrospect, you'll  find that most people who were attractive at 14 are nothing now. Sorry, not sorry. 

S/O to all those Tweens who prefer food to people, do ur thang. Xx



Ok, let's take #freethenipple as an example. 

Feminism = females having a right, to have a vagina and to be treated equally to men. 

That's it.

 So please tell me why these anorexic models are posting pictures of themselves topless with alien emojis on with a caption '#freethenipple #feminism'. Maybe I'm being ignorant but to me all I'm seeing is a nipple as a stance not for women's rights but one to be edgy and showcase a taunt bod. I'd love to see these girls actually be ballsy enough to walk outside topless .

Feminism along with SO many other things, like eating healthily, have turned into trends and excuses for people to be as obnoxious as possible on Instagram. Healthy eating has now equated to 'eat Acai, move to L.A/Australia, spend your savings on some juice and knit your    crochet tops. 


Maybe I should start posing pissing in urinals with an apple emoji covering my pubes. #freethepussy. Like seriously guys? Go sign a petition or something instead. 


Remember, 88% of humans won't give a shit about anything you say. Instead of tolerating their narcissistic ways, politely swerve over to somewhere else. If you're reading this I'm probably talking about you!! 

Also 'practice' safe sex and don't do drugs because they're so predictable. 

And try not to fall for any of your friends because that's hard ! :)

Thanks, hope you learnt something guys. 


Hound Gal

7 June 2015

Becoming an Adult

Last summer was spent smoking on my balcony questioning life, experiencing sex (or the lack of it there was), 'heartbreak' and obnoxious people. 

I got 2 tickets to Iron Maiden baby x

It sounds pretty deep because I wanted it to be. I wanted to feel fucking effected: drinking during the day and feeling like nobody 'got' me. It even got to the point where I'd listen to Chopin whilst swiping through Tinder whilst balling my eyes out. Kurt Cobain or what? Montage of Shit lol !!!
My parents liked to remind me that I wasn't 'taking responsibility' for myself and wasn't living in the real world. Of course, this just fuelled my feelings of self pity and languor. 'I'm Just A Teenage Dirtbag' became my anthem. Not really, but it did make me feel like a wild child !! ;)

Now, summer has a different tune. It no longer sounds like Rhythm n blues, it sounds like Alphabeat. Or maybe Mika actually. This whole year has been really 'self evaluative' to be honest; experiencing all that profound shit like epiphanies and major downfalls. I decided that I couldn't have a summer like the last and that I really needed to get my shit together.

live x laugh x luv x

Currently I'm working at a nursery with a class of 3 to 4 year olds. I never really liked kids because they always would ride over my feet with their scooters, or cry or make the tubes that bit more unbearable than they already are. So, yeah, this job feels slightly paradoxical.   I'm called 'Miss Anna' which boosts my ego and the kids seem to like me. I maybe get too involved/emotionally invested to the job. Last week the kids listened to a story about a Mother Owl who left the baby but then always came back. All the kids were laughing and I just sat at the back sobbing. The class did yoga (how quaint) and I was in hysterics for the whole thing. All of them were being taught how to say 'Namaste' when I see one of the boys pick up his foot and gnaw on his toenails. He was borderline smug with himself. I sat there in awe of such a legend!

ur truth only comes from within- anna xxx
 Also, I get really hungry on the job. The kids eat an hour before my shift ends. They seem to get a bit frustrated/confused because to fulfil my hunger I always ask them what they've got in their lunch box. Sometimes they ignore me but Rome wasn't built in a day!! Lol. 

Part of me hopes I'm not turning into a middle aged mother who shops at Boden. I've developed a new found love for cleaning my bedroom, mostly because I blAst My IpOd Up!! FULL VOL!!!! LOL. I also now shop at fresh fruit and vegetable shops. Today I dunked my face in a bucket of water (bobbing for Nectarines) just to win a bag full of cherries. As my soaking wet face came out that bucket I felt an extremely sad amount of triumph. I don't think I'll go back to that grocers.

By next month I think I should get a tattoo or piercing to feel alive or like I can listen to Katy Perry's 'Teenage Dream' and fully understand her.

Will keep U all posted any ways. X

20 May 2015

How to be the best at: PARTIES.

Many people know me as A-Little Love, but those who know me best know me as A-Little-likesto-PARTY ARD!!!! Lol.  

bassline JunkIE X

Since I’m trying to give back to the world I thought I’d share some of my success and a write a guide.



Anyone who is anyone loves drugs! At any given moment, drop the line ‘anyone willing to contribute to a certain fund ;)?’. 
If they’re relevant their eyes will lite up like 4th of July and  ask what you’re proposing. I keep things realistic so say my ‘guy’s’ name is either : Bones, T-Strain, Dj I-Chronik or at a push I give two names (Mary and Wanda). 

Put on some deep house to get the people going, run to the toilet and call a trusted friend. Tell them to get some zip lock bags and fill with Icing Sugar or Splenda (risky biz). If the crowd is more blessed, chill and all round Zion some Oregano or grass will do the job.

Hand out and watch ppl enjoy the high. You’ve now become a local legend. Thank me l8r. 


whos ready to have their world rocked!!?? ;)

Everyone loves music at parties. However, everyone prefers LIVE music. I’m talking shit that will take you back to sitting round the camp fire back in year 9, seeing Paolo Nutini at Glastonbury or if you’re cultured, listening to the local strum on the beach in Indonesia. 

What I’m trying to say is have a guitar on you. Snare drums also will suffice. RESIST, the urge to bring an amp. Nobody likes try hards. All you have to do is break a glass so people are looking at you, whip out your instrument and smugly sing, ‘and a  1- and a -2 and a -. Popularity= sky high, audience= captivated, chances of not pulling= NON EXISTENT M8!!!!!.

You’re versatile so mix things up by playing covers by, Bob Dylan, and oh yeah, Bob Dylan. See what I did there? lol. He’s the man, man. Nobody needs to know you didn’t grow up in Louisiana so add a little twang to your singing voice. 


me having a rite laugh w mates x

Never leave a party without leaving an indelible mark. You want people to remember you for being well calculated and profound.

Here are some conversation starters that are a sure way to duplicate your friend requests the next morning.

1.) ‘Cameron, ey, what a scumbag!!!! Fuck the torie scum!!! Who’s with me?' (say whilst raising a glass)-

This screams that you understand politics and aren’t afraid to stand up to the big guys!!!!

2.) 'Hi, sorry, do you know the way to the toilet?’

In with a bang. ‘Sorry’ makes the other person feel in control, therefore important. The toilet makes you seem just like anyone else; relatable, at times gross and quirky!!

3.) ‘Can I get your advice on something? Who else would you fuck here apart from me?’ (say 2 someone easy on da eyes)

I didn’t want to give this one away at first but you guys deserve it. This is the ultimate crowd pleaser. You’re expressing your interest, the persons inevitable interest in you, and adding some English A level in there because guess what? It’s a rhetorical question !!!! 


28 April 2015

Living in Fear


 Wake up.
  My heart is pounding through my chest . 
  If only Snoop Dogg could see me know. I’d have been perfect for the music video  ‘Sweat.’
  Clammy as fuck, twitching from left to right and looking up "pugs of Instagram" for some support.
   Thnx guys, your squished up faces and breathing problems make my life easier. 

 Convinced I'm still dying but listen to my friend Paul McKenna on Cd who tells me " I'm a         magnificent being".


 How many fucking times do I have to be reminded that I’m magnificent? 
 Get told it enough times! (Lol).
 The palpations knock on my door again so I decide to put my relationship with Paul on standstill.
 I skype my grandma in America. 
 Her voice sounds like warm pie and ice cream :)

I flirt with the idea of going for a walk. 

 Still milling this over and have a glass of red wine for some 'Dutch courage’.
  Also I am in Paris so only feels right to get accustomed to some traditional shit. 

takin some deep breths n dat x

I go to sit by the canal. 
 I don't want to climb up the stairs to get to the other side as my good old heart was already twerking against my chest. Why pop molly when I feel it for free ?
 An Australian man tells me that I look pure which sends the nerves rat tat tatting on my door again so I turn away from him and eat a brioche. #cheatday

Mom calls informing me that I have a doctors appointment in a hour which I pretty much forced her to book. 
 Most expensive doctor in Paris but need to be in good hands when Im told I'm on death row.
 Close tabs of 'cardiovascular disease' and step outside.

Go to a lingerie shop to help me feel like a woman or whatever and still feel shaky.
 Sit in the changing room in this Lacey machine and have now developed a rash from stress. Cheers. Guess maybe Rosie Huntington and I don’t look as similar as I had thought. ;) 

 Notorious ‘Dr. Google' (she apparently googles her prescription) sees me.

some lite reading !!!!! 

I get told I could have a heart problem.
Thoughts of my fans writing farewell posts on fb and dogs crying into their Pedigree hit me hard.
After doing some tests it’s established that I’m ‘probably’ fine. 

On metro and even the sound of Rihanna's '4 5 seconds' can't stop the panic that seems to follow me like all of my Facebook friends and Instagram followers. 
Heart racing, Palms sweating, clasping my phone as I'm tempted to call 911.
 I switch the music to a meditation playlist and chill out. Write a note on my phone that I should  start smoking weed. Write another one saying "comme de fuck down". Still got banter anna ;) 

Going out for dinner. 
Feeling almost 100 PC, grinning at the waitresses (maybe a bit too much) and at the disruptive baby to my right who's birthday it is. 
I was all smiles and waves but then his amount of attention got on my nerves . Was Actually tempted to blow out his candles for him - this was my moment, not urs little one, or should I say " petit garcon"! hehe.

1;00 pm 
At Gare Du Nord after a teary departure from my Mom. Music is key here, so in the cab I chose to listen to “Knock You Down" by Kanye West ft Keri Hilson.

Feel anxious and can't help but fart which makes me feel gross an ashamed but I plug in drake and feel like a boss ass bitch again !
 Spot a dude in the queue for soft drinks who seemed on edge , nervous , anxious and also fearful . I gave him this little nod, as if to say "I see you ". 

Drunk on Eurostar watching my neighbours laptop . 
He was watching ratatouille which melted my heart but also made me hungry.

Any way, life's a risk . You only live once . Have it !!!! Xxx

2 April 2015

The Buffet

Since I currently feel like a paper bag, floating through the wind, I took up the offer to go to my best friend’s acquaintance's Buffet Birthday. The word buffet actually makes me feel physically ill, especially the alliteration of ‘Buffet Birthday’ but I guess that is apt considering the events of the night.

 Being a food enthusiast, I googled the website of the place. ‘Spice Oven’. What got our palms sweating a little bit was the fact that it advertised itself as an indian restaurant but then ironically a ‘world cuisine banquet’. The options on the table were things that one would eat during  a ‘tv dinner’ immersed in the riveting plot line of Emmerdale. Spag bol, chicken korma and ‘mini burgers’. I trip advisored it  and there were 5 reviews, one of which was a mother explaining how she bought her autistic son there. The staff allegedly treated him well because he was ‘freaking out’. I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or confused by this. 

Going into the place was an experience.  Stepping across a bridge taking you over a fake river thoughts flews around such as ‘am I in Borneo?’. The neon green jello brought me back to life and back to reality. I was in Reading. 

40 people were there, all of whom I didn’t know.  Instead of socialising I couldn’t take my eyes off what yet again reminded me of the jungle; a man who could’ve been an extra on ‘Sons of Anarchy’. He was collaborating coleslaw with curry. Revelatory. Flashes of my life ending up like his clouded my mind. Age 50, texting my mates ‘spice oven? ;)’ didn’t seem right. At all. 

Half the boys at the ‘party’ thought they were BIG Sean, wearing black bomber jackets with chains on ‘fleek’. Apparently one of them was instagram famous. I tried to give him the eyes but he was too busy face timing his girlfriend whilst eating dim sum. #aroundtheworldcuisine. 

I decided to take one for the team and get Ophelia and I a plate to share. Portion control isn’t really in my vocabulary (half American) so I ended up with a plate full of : chicken nugs, chinese food, curry, rice, bread and a bit of sweetocorn to keep up appearances. When I got back to the table some joker who pretended to be vegetarian even though he could barely fit into his blazer (bless) tried to put me down. :( 

‘Is dat all for u’?’, he said as his hype men started chortling.

‘Yeah, and it’s just starters m8’, I shot back with, feeling like a fucking badass.

‘Orite den’. 

And I knew I had won. Fuck u.

For dessert I tried to chill out. I got two pieces of cake which didn’t look great so as people dipped a marshmallow into the chocolate fountain I pushed passed them and threw my plate of cake into it. Have it.

Thnx x

1 March 2015

Keeping Up Appearances

You're name's Johnny but your 'squad' greet you with 'J flex', '(smoke too many) Js man, JZ, or when they're all ketted up 'bass line Junkee'. 

Days are described by you as a 'hustle and grind' as you shove your munchie stash (dominoes boxes) out the way and replace with a wad of cash (nan's xmas prezzie) and a Bathing Ape shoe box. Hard. 

Friends come and go but your 'Blessed Boys' ride with you forever. Before going out you all get your 'smoke on' and listen to a guilty pleasure : BBK's party anthem 'Too Many Men'. This tuuuuuune reminds you of the lack of girls in your life so you re download tinder and update your bio. 'Lookin for a bad bitch who hits the blunts but never stunts'. (Profound).

At the party you show up on bike #roadmanstatus which may have been your younger sisters but when you've ripped off the pink thatched basket no man needs to know ;). Greet your boys how you always do 'Yung Benny man, you calm?'. Safe, so fucking safe. You count your blessings that you came wearing your waviest garms (camo bucket hat and stussy sweatshirt) and can't wait to get the slags in.

Your names Jennifer but since you've been at Leeds you thought it sounded better as Jennii. 

Before you enjoyed groupon deals at Pizza Express and horse riding but now pastimes include 'skanking' to deep house, MDMA and sucking people off in the toilets.

Sometimes under the 'notes' section on your IPhone you write 'eat sleep rave repeat' as a crucial reminder of your lifestyle/upcoming plans.

Days are spent coming down from some chronic illegal substances (DRUGS!!!!!!!!!!) and surfing da web. Buying school books. Lol joooooookes you're buying Bindis from Asos Marketplace, a couple cute hand woven halters and these 90s throwbacks called scrunchies. You feel a bit 'kooky' doing all this but remind yourself that it's vintage man. Good vibes only x

15 February 2015

A LIL Retrospect


Goldie was my first and only dog (so far).

u can see the comfort in his eyes

I knew I loved G Dawg instantly and named him Goldie because it was obscure. The color of his mane was a golden tone. Lol. When we got him he was shivering in the backseat of our car and every night for a week would howl because he didn't like to be alone.

fuk u paul

A week later Goldie developed a bought of arrogance: climbing on the dinner table and charging at people. When this happened I'd reward him with a Smacko which was some queer dog chew that was meant to  resemble a streak of bacon. Once my Dad lost a 500 pound note and as I went to pick Goldie out from his basket he had a smug look on his face. Either he had sniffed a 'fit' dog's ass or something else was up. As I looked down at his cot I saw a chewed up 500 pound bill and smiled. My dad ignored us that evening.

Goldie was my kindred spirit: afraid of almost everything. When we went for walks his hair pricked up when a cat would make eye contact and he'd shudder when any man would speak.

Michelangelo's 'THe Kiss' or jus Goldie n Darling ?

Then Goldie found love which I was jealous about, even though my 'sturdy' physique and piercing blue braces attracted many eligible batchelors (sweaty 9 year olds). He would go for dates at the house opposite with a dog called 'Darling'. Darling's owners were Phillipino and would play karaoke from about 9pm to 5am. We told Goldie to dump Darling a week later. Poor babe.


s/o to all the ppl who made this career possible x

To put it nicely I wasn't the most athletic of kids. Volleyball was the only thing I pursued for two reasons 1.) My mom helped organise it and 
              2.) Free pizza afterwards.

A lot of my time was spent at home, wearing no trousers (because I hated how they clung) watching Kim Possible. 

One day, as I was listening to Enrique and eating a burrito, thoughts of panting and being picked last for sports and a palpable awareness of my inability to be active hit me. I knew I had to find a talent.

I then started to dedicate a couple of hours each day at the studio (normally the kitchen)  writing a couple rough bars. They were all pretty emotional and based on 'heartbreak' ."I hate it how you walk past me, like I'm invisible, like you can't even see me" was a personal favourite. Did I consider it poetry? Quite possibly, yes. False praise from my parents and my dog pushed me to take my material elsewhere. 
Just anuther fan admiring my material x

Singing whatever, wherever to whomever became the general notion. I was stunned to learn most people actually didn't want to hear me sing. I actually got told "Anna could you please stop singing" midway through Beautiful by Christina Aguilera. Stupid bitch. She wasn't beautiful any way. 

The months that followed this event were tough to say the least. I reminded myself that Timbaland probably got told he couldn't sing either and that put me at ease for a while. The nights of swigging J20 in a melancholic fashion wore off and I felt 'myself again'. I tested out some new 'careers' which didn't seem to work:


As much finesse as I gave off, my K Swiss shoes hurt me too much to keep rocking


I ventured to Sri Lanka to try and collect diamonds but got too stressed and
developed the habit of smoking

THE MODEL:          

Even though as I keep reminding you I was very striking as a yout,
I felt the hired photographer was trying to make me look like Rose from Titanic,
or a mermaid that hangs off the front of a ship. #fukthat

                RE INVENT MYSELF:

I decided to pack up and reinvent myself where nobody knew me.
Didn't work either, I just got asked 4 photos :(