Does it look like I need a doughnut?!

Well, yesterday I decided to give something back to the community for once and I gave blood. How could I not when it was being shoved in my face by the Red Cross parking their huge blood bus on University grounds?!
After a questionnaire (asking if I'd ever had male to male sex) and an interview (asking how fat I was and comparing it to my not tall enough height) a rather nice lady jabbed me, had a dig in two different veins, then handed me over to her superior who mined around in my other arm - until she finally struck blood.
After chilling for about 10 minutes whilst 470 mLs seeped from my body into a little plastic bag, I got some suicidal looking bandages and moved onto the end of the van.
An old lady, in a slow, tired voice, offered me a drink water and then ran through the entire menu; all of which was in the top of the food pyramid. Very politely, I declined.
Shoving a tray of slimy-looking iced doughnuts in my face, she rasped "Have a doughnut!" in a husky, smoker's-cough sort of voice.
Does it look like I need a doughnut?!
I left after that.

And so, in light of my donation to community, I took advantage of this motivation and agreed when Jard asked me to spot light for the Theatre Company's latest production. So poor weary me went along to the rehearsals and got roped into staying for the entire run of the show to practice my cues - Mind you, I was absolutely famished after turning down that sinful glazed doughnut and suddenly found myself being offered a slice of oily, dripping pizza!
Does it look like I need it?!
And so it caused me to ponder; people are not offering me this enlarging food because I need the calories, but because they believe this fat will fit right into my regular diet...
I can't help that I'm lazy, I comfort eat and that my body mistakes healthy food for fat... It's just not my fault!!!

So will everyone please stop feeding me because I actually have learnt how to do that in my 18 years of digestion?!

Desparate and Dateless - there is a reason...

So Little Miss Conservative skipped along to the Desperate and Dateless Ball... What she found was just not the hum of excitement and joy, but an element of disgust as she observed not just the horrid dress fashions of the 'Shiny Era', but an incredible amount of truly desperate and dateless-ians that, sadly, will continue to live that way til death do they part.

So as I ponder on last night's experience with fellow singletons, I pose the question - Are we single because we choose, or because others choose not?
I could not work out if the presence of these middle-agers was because they have a thing for younger partners or because they've exhausted their supply from their own age-group that they're now preying on the younger generation... I concluded that they were dateless for a reason - and that was after one glance!
As I watched the pathetic pick-up attempts from these forty-something desperates, I began to wonder if my presence was in fact, classing me as pathetic? I had not bought a ticket with the intention to collect a significant other, rather for the likes of the atmosphere and the Rogue Traders. Despite my intentions in the evening, clearly the males (yes - even the young ones) had no intention in any form of non-traditional date... The successful matching that I did see ended in a lot of face-mauling and groping.
I suppose that's what happens when you mix free alcohol with desperately alone people.

So Little Miss Conservative denied any form of contact with the boys and went home to her bed - alone.

And the Oscar goes to...

Has anyone ever considered the possibility that some people just can't live without a drama? The first inkling of trouble and they smack their lips with their lolling tongue and eagerly rub their hands as they await the spectacle to unfold. The only impediment is that this unveiling predicament must not of course, be occurring to them; but then again, I'm sure they'll miraculously entwine themselves somehow.
So as the victim slides deeper into the quicksand of crisis, the sharks feed on the fear by mimicking a kind ear. It is upon this counsel that concocts the ingredients to create the biggest drama on earth. Not only does the suffering of the poor victim become publicised to all, but any minute link this gossip monger may have to the situation immediately becomes the tie to draw pity from those surrounding. It is never considered whether or not this problem is anyone else's business but it automatically becomes public knowledge just because someone is craving a gossip hit.

And no, this is not a tribute to Hollywood in spite of the Academy Awards but for all of you out there who must live off each others misfortunes. Get a life...