I’m back

Hey friends, I’m back! I know you are all probably not thinking, where has Katie Jones been? Well if you are a true fan you would know that I have been a baller in Bali for the last few weeks duhh. Why no blogs? I don’t hear you ask. Well, aside from the fact that the one time I sat inside and did an internet blog whilst on holiday, it was raining and at night time, after i had been fed and watered and nothing else could be done apart from a blog. I didn’t want to do that again during my holiday, I made the most of my time there. But I feel that I lost my juices over the last few weeks….My life has been so great, and I can honestly say that I am truly happy for the first time in months. Too serious? Yeah, soznotsoz.
I have been told a few times that my blog is quite angry…..that I sound angry….am angry….. I’m not sure about these observations and I none the less won’t take them in my stride.
This blog post is going nowhere fast….. If in doubt, talk about cats.
Living with cats is better than living with humans you say? Well, I tend to agree with you there dear friend. I am a self confessed cat lady but these days I rely on other peoples cats rather than owning one myself, that way I am ‘all care, no responsibility’. I smother the cat(s) with love and affection, but when it does a big steamy eggs benedict on your flatmates duvet, I am strictly ‘every man for himself’. Now, minus the flatmates – add one cat for every human, then one of them does a shit on my bed. It’s like the parent with the ugly child, in their eyes the thing is beautiful but to you its just like any other crying defecating flesh bag with unfortunate features. My own cat lays a cable on my doona – I will happily clean it up and probably give the animal a salmon dinner for its efforts.

When I am at home I am quite the naturalist, comfortable in my environment. I shed my clothes instantly – pants off at all times and fun bags set free from bras, I toilet with the door open, free range shower and getting dressed to leave the house is the last thing on the list. Being at home also means the cat(s) need attention and affection. I wouldn’t hesitate to snuggle a cat whilst bare breasted, it’s delicious cashmere fur against my skin is like heaven on earth. I often put cats heads in my mouth, depending on the size, to make them feel safe and warm. Dont get me wrong here, I’m not digging out the Marmite to put on my butthole so that little raspy tongue can lick it clean away, it aint like that at all. But If you arrived home to find your naked flatmate, holding your cat with its head in her/his mouth, would you be alarmed or simply ask how my day was and pat the cat on your way to the kitchen?
Exactly, hence the point that living with cats is far better than living with humans.
The end.

Impending Doom

It is officially T minus 9 days until I will be pants free for 15 days in Bali. This is impending doom slash so exciting it gives me intense tummy cramps just thinking about it.

Impending doom because it means a one way ticket to bikini city which is nerve wracking for most of us. I’m no sperm protein shake swilling-carbless bar eating-10 pack o’ ab’s-gym bunny kinda girl and I wasn’t born with a body like Kate Moss, I work far too much and enjoy eating as a general pastime. Squeezing these E cup fun bags into a little Lycra number is a task in its own. I’m fine down the bottom half, size 8 off the shelf, no ass, wee chorizo legs, boom! I am good to go. But finding a bikini top is so much harder and takes longer than separating Hundreds&Thousands sprinkles into their colour groups.


None of this frilly triangle string bikini bullshit, I need some support up in here if I don’t want my neck to get skinned from the sheer weight of these fat all natural mammaries. I haven’t squashed myself into a bikini since last summer, but I did find my perfect underwire-puppy strapping apparatus and you best believe I cleaned the store out and bought the bikini in every colour I could get my hands on.

So with all my two bikinis and awkward little body, I am going to do 1,000 sit ups (approx) the day before I get on that plane and get a really good spray tan. Coz brown fat looks better than white fat right?