Phoebe

Self expainatory really, just write down twenty things about yourself that no one else knows for entertainment value.Here are Phoebe's1) I've never seen or met my grandfather on my dad's side, although I found out he died in January. In fact I've only ever seen one picture of him and it was in a plastic bag of unorganised family photos my grandma was showing me. When my grandma saw me looking at it she briskly snatched from my hand and replaced it with some distant relatives baby picture, it was obviously in there by mistake and I wasn't supposed to see it. I did however magage to get a close enough look at him to notice he bares some resemblance to Mark 'chopper' Reed the Australian serial killer. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ////////////////////////////////////////////2) At the age of three I was a chronic fish food eater, I used to love eating the multicoloured flakes you feed domestic fish with, the ones that smell like goat meat. At one particularly ill advised moment I hungily consumed an entire drum of it before replacing the lid and walking out of the room as if nothing had happened. My mom caught me red handed through assuming that the noxous fumes emerging out of my mouth at a two mile radius were down to a complete fish food O.D. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ////////////////////////////////////////////3) My five current female idols are - Missy Suicide - Maya Angelou - Lucy Sweet - Julia Davis - Arabella Weir //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ////////////////////////////////////////////4) My height was not one of puberty's little surprises, infact I was one of the tallest babies to have been recorded in Northampton General Hospital, ever. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// //////////////////////////////////////////// 5) The skin on my nose has aged sygnificantly faster than the rest of my face from all of the exessive black head picking I did in my early teens. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ///////////////////////////////////////////// 6) I had my first boyfriend/kiss when I was thirteen with a boy from a school that was sharing the chateau we were staying in called 'Phil' He wore unwashed hormone smelling Nirvana hoodies and looked like a frog. After our somewht public announcement that we were going out we kissed and I hated it so much that I avoided him for the rest of the day. After a few days of akwardness I called it off and told him it wasn't working out, I actually dumped him in front of the Bayeux Tapestry! before wondering for the rest of the day if I was frigid, ah young love. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ///////////////////////////////////////////// 7) My IQ is 126 making me a 'Borderline Genius' I think it's psycology's way of telling me I'm half assed. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ///////////////////////////////////////////// 8) I have had my moments of fashion victimness in the past. One such recent incided involved me buying a 'bell skirt' from H&M. I wore it for a couple of weeks in which I was rediculed by my stepdad and the stitching broke under the strain of my bum when I sat down. This caused the hem to give way and the skirt sort of fell apart. My mom encouraged me to take it back, which I did lying explicitly about the cause of the skirts self-destruction by blaming it on poor quality manufacture rather than the strain put upon it by my glutinous maximous. They agreed to let me swap it for something of the same price which meant that I got my sixthform ball dress from free, exept I left it in a shop, oh well. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ///////////////////////////////////////////// 9) My prominant bottom wears a completely different size of clothing to the rest of my body, at least one, maybe two sizes larger. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ///////////////////////////////////////////// 10) My street inhabits a variety of different refugees and imigrants from various corners of Europe whos rules of courtship are alittle looser than in England to the extent that they will follow you for several miles in an attempt to hook up with you. I found on one of these incidents that the best way of defeating this tactic is disengagig the language barrier, which can be done through pretending that you don't speak English, my favorate fake, first language is French enabling me to answer their over- amorourous suggestive remarks with 'qua?' 'pardon?' 'Je ne se qua' followed by a retiring shrug of the shouders, hey, who needs mace? //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ///////////////////////////////////////////// 11) My GCSE teachers advised us to take a fifteen minute break between revision slots. I used that time to look at sample clips on porn websites, because it was free and more interesting than making myself a cup of tea. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ///////////////////////////////////////////// 12) When I was three I had a temper tantrum because my mum had brought me a packet of chocolate with the wrong nursery rhyme image on the cover. My mum started laughing and refused to buy me another, enraged by her response and lack of sympathy I got my pair of plastic playdough scissors and tried to cut her jumper. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// //////////////////////////////////////////// 13) I'm a fast runner, unfortunately I run like a chicken so I can never do it publicly, exept when I have a coursework deadline in which case I'm running all over the place like a crazed workwhore and don't care what I look like. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// //////////////////////////////////////////// 14) I was told by my mother that when I moved back from America when I was two I had a pre-lingual American accent which fadded out within a couple of months. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// //////////////////////////////////////////// 15) I havn't had short hair since year ten, the only time I ever briefly lapsed back into long hair was when I had extensions for modelling a little while ago. I had a very short pixie cut at fifteen which stayed the same length for a year because my phobia of hairdressers giving me bad haircuts and blaming it on the thickness of my hair had caused me to cut my own hair, routinely lopping off chunks of hair with the kitchen scissors. My hair only grew back to bob-length when I sat my GCSEs. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// //////////////////////////////////////////// 16) To this day I don't know how the fuck I managed to pass science GCSE, I got two C's I really don't know how but I'm glad I did, it means I don't have to do it ever again woooooo! //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// //////////////////////////////////////////// 17) I had the biggest asexual crush on my female English techer in year ten that I'm sure my good English marks were down to some adolesent urge to impress her. She wore a knitted tank top over a flowered shirt like a 70s office drone before it was cool. So when I went to America I purchased my first flowered shirt from old navy for six dollars and wore it underneath my two poud h&m tank top with big clumpy skater shoes and jeans in response. Shortly after I cut all my hair off but I never got it to look as good as hers, I don't think she noticed at all but I was always thankful for it. I felt it was the first point in my life that I had established an identity for myself.///////////////////////////////////////////////////// /////////////////////////////////////////////////18) Ok one more funny hair story and then I swear I'll shut up, when I was cutting my hair I noticed that the back was getting alittle bit long so I cut it off with a pair of scissors. Then I went downstairs where my exasperated mother told me i'd cut a huge bald patch in the back of my head. In panic I ran upstairs and shaved either side of the back of my head to try and even out the hairline, unfortunately I ended up shaving upwards making the baldpatch bigger and further up the nape of my neck. My mum couldn't really do anything exept give me an undercut and reassure me that it would grow back in a month or two. Her advise to me was to keep my head up, literally, that way less of the bald patch was visable. I concidered drawing a red line accross the bal patch and telling everyone that I'd hit my head. Instead I opted for the uh, much more sensible option of telling everyone my sister had managed to cut my hair while I was sleeping, slick.19) I'm left handed, that one always seems to get people.//////////////////////////////////////20) I have a giant wide on for Marion Cotillard