crippopotamus
whats gwannin?
The joys of asthma
For as long as I can remember I’ve had asthma. Its something you come to accept as the norm, feeling occasionally breathless,sometimes tight chested and (supposedly) having an inhaler close to hand.
This sort of image springs to mind
Ah the joys of asthma!!
There is no joy about it at all.
For one thing, its an absolute menace to spell, for example just typing this post, I find myself furiously wrestle with the seemingly illogical s-t-h combination.
What makes it worse is that I am only described as having mild symptoms, I am not particularly affected by pollen, dust, cats and so on. I am described as having ‘Exercise Induced Asthma’.
The general reaction I get from this is: “So basically, you’re just really unfit?”
This is infuriating for someone like myself who is a bit of a sport keeno. For example, last saturday I was playing a particularly intense netball game in the sweltering midday heat. I was feeling pretty good, quietly enjoying the benefits that hitting the gym had had on my endurance- 50 minutes in and barely breaking into a sweat I mused smugly to myself, observing the gleaming forehead of my opponent.
I was suddenly startled back into reality as a netball-shaped shadow, to me merely a silhouette in the glare of the sun, came soaring into my end of the court. Startled I prepared to jump for the ball, planning an interception to stop my partner getting it first. Half blinded, I was unsuccessful, and then followed the usual process of doing all I could to get the ball out of our shooting ‘D’ and down the far end of the court.
I ducked, I dived. I weaved. Finally intercepting, I lobbed the ball with the arrogant shoulder pass so common to the egotistical Goal Keeper, to my team mates further down the court.
Satisfied with my work, I paused for a moment. I was out of breath. More than that. My stomach was heaving. As a sportsman this is not an uncommon feeling, and I took great gulps of air, trying to steady my heart rate. Before I had a chance to catch my breath the ball was once again in my half. With the feeling of a martyr, I started, clumsily following my opponent, as she executed a perfect split landing, simultaneously catching the ball. In one swift moment the ball went up.. and through the net. A perfect goal.
I had not even raised my arms in an attempt to catch the rebound.
And that’s when it begins.
You start to feel distressed, you try to focus on the game but you can’t. You try to ignore the feeling, then start to avoid unnecessary movement. You become conscious of your basic bodily functions, that normally go unnoticed. Arms hang stiffly by your sides, a desperate attempt to conserve precious oxygen.
And then the ball is back, you try to resume play but your body won’t let you. Its as if you have lost control, and now your lungs are in charge. And they are choking you. Your airways shrinking, contracting by the second, every muscle in your body protests as your force yourself to move, to try and keep up with everyone else.
And thats when it really dawns on you, as you feebly jog back to your position after a sideline pass, each step feels like a marathon . The urge to cough suddenly hits you. But on a warm spring day, and this is different from mucus filled winter asthma episodes. Your stomach heaving, the panic hits you. A surge of nausea hits you, you feel as if you are going to vomit until you finally consciously realise: If I don’t stop now,I am going to have an asthma attack.
This is when I lifted a limp arm up in the air, and hoarsely called Time. And stumbled off the court for another team mate to take my place, gasping for my inhaler, cupping my hands as I hyper ventilate.
Quitting. Not something I like to do. But I couldn’t have gone on, its the worst feeling.
Five minutes later, my breathing is back to normal. The journey home is painful, concentrating hard on not throwing up. When I return home I fall gratefully into bed, my body weak.
Later in the day I feel better. And in hindsight it doesn’t seem so bad. I pass it off as lack of fitness, I tell myself I only have mild asthma anyway. I’ll be fine.
Just a warning, or maybe this is just self pity, either way be careful, if your an asthmatic watch yourself. As one day you might not catch it in time.
xxx
hey all, sorry to wallow in misery. This is procrastination from a Statistics past paper which I cannot do at all.
check out my soundcloud dudes!
with special thanks to soundcloud for destroying the quality of everything i upload.
Issues blah blah. a serious post about serious issues.
I thought i would scribble out a more mature post for you today. looking at an ISSUE. as opposed to the usual ramblings of a pleb brain (me)
Hello little ones.
todays topic: REGRETS
We all do things wrong. Except me as i am completely perfect xxoxo
But for the rest of you, you’re probably wondering sitting here reading this and something is niggling away in the back of your mind. Something you did. That you wish you hadn’t.
yeah thats right feel bad.
har har rofl. rolfharris
Jokies guys jesus is here so you’re all good etc, but of course the question is WHY we do these things.
-Why did you walk on the grass, when a nearby sign clearlyy told you not to?
- Why did you selfishly finish all the milk on your cereal, leaving none for the household tea drinkers, causing them to endure the day caffeine free?
why. why? WHY.
Because , Sin feels great at the time.
We like to live on the edge. be a badass for once in our sad failed lives
I have a confession to make..
Yesterday after a particularly painful netball match, desperate for sugar relief, I was tempted into the nearby corner shop. And that was when I saw them.
Oreos. a full on TANK of a packet. only 49p 
there must have been about 20. FULL SIZE. not those short arse six pack mini ones! they are for plebasites.
I eagerly handed over 50p. and in my eagerness forgot to collect the change as i hurried out of the shop. ( regret #1 – gutted) clutching the beautiful, ocean blue packet to my chest.
And then i shared them with the poor and starving of the earth!
thats a lie.
I gave one away. ONE. to a friend.
then i ate them all. I missed my train and was in a bad mood with the world in general, and fought back with some gross over indulgence. ftw.
I twisted. i nommed. (cream first, then biscuit) IT WAS FANTASTIC. IT WAS ECSTASY. CRUMBS FLEW. SALIVA SPLATTERED EVERYWHERE.
and then. they were gone.
oreee. oreee my love.
I felt sick. Sick to the pit of my stomach. Sick with guilt. Sick with, well, sick.
The sugar rush had been and gone. And what was I left with? a few crumbs around my lips.
PAH. MY DESTINY DOES NOT LIE IN AN EMPTY BISCUIT WRAPPER
I wished i hadnt done it.
WHY I LOVE NEW ZEALAND
Once upon a time Gary the sheep fell from the sky, and landed on a mountain. The mountain was on an island. Upon discovering Gary, the local tribesmen made him their God and obeyed his orders. Now, Gary came from a small European country, which was invaded in the first world war, called Z-Land. Sheep don’t tend to be particularly creative animals, (grass is their main concern) so he simply decided to name his new island ‘New Z-land’.
And a country was born.
Its a magical place. Although I hear from my friend Peter that it has a weak tourist industry, because once you arrive there you become trapped in a time paradox and never grow up. Or perhaps that was Never Never Land.
But aside from this nonsense, its a great place. Also known as Middle Earth. The country is divided into two islands; the north island, also known as Mordor. And the south, commonly known to the locals as ‘The Shire’. A good friend of mine named Rosa lives their, she is very short and has hairy feet.
One of the best things to appear from New Found-land is Flight of the Conchords. New Zealands forth most popular folk parody duo. Sadly, the band recently split up to return to there former occupation as shepherds.
[just to clarify for anybody reading this and thinking i am completely on crack- this is largely just a series of private jokes directed at a particular person, so please continue scrolling down and dont be put off by how weird this looks. sweeeet. ]
GINGERS
they are everywhere. GINGERS.
A few fun facts about gingers:
* If two gingers breed they produce albino offspring;
* Their hair, contradictory to common belief, is not in fact flammable. 
Todays topic:
GINGER ABUSE.
Firstly, to prevent causing offence etc, I myself speak as a 50% Ging aka Strawberry blonde.
As you can imagine, being blonde slash ginger, i am the butt of a lot of jokes.
but lets face it. its hilar;
A classic in the science lab:
- “Lucy, you’re head’s on fire!! Oh.. wait..”
people everywhere are being called carrot top/fireman. it has to stop.
We could be degrading their self esteem.
hope is lagging among the ginger community , all they have to look forward to later to in life, is going grey.
peace.
Biebs. and a general rant about music and so on
Bieber I love you, but what is going on?
“Ima be under the Mistletoe with youuuu, shawty with youuuu”
I’m a bee? surely if hes a bee then it would be more appropriate to call his ‘shawty’ , ‘honey’ ? And while we’re on the topic- shorty? hes one to talk. 5″5′. TINY.
if you are reading this there is a 6/10 chance that you dislike biebs.
i admit i used to. But then, i realised that frankly life is too short for h8in ppl xxoxoxx
besides, he’s sexy.
So yeah, this is kind of breaking my christmas theme, but something that serioussly pisses me off at the moment is the ridiculous amount of judgment about music tastes.
I like literally everything.
I have an unhealthy obsession with j.casablancas(my boyfriend) slash kele okereke . at the moment i’m fully in love with the correspondents, and hot chip complete my universe.
I also really genuinely like Hadouken! (why on earth they felt they had to put an exclamation mark at the end of their name i will never understand, maybe to make connote excitement.. -oh wow, i’m revising for english mocks at the moment and i’m subconsciously analysing everything because i’m a nerd.-
however, I admit (despite persecution) that jb is talented, yet over rated.
I dislike most people who dont write there own music, as it kind of defeats the point of being a ‘musician’.
But i’m not so hung up on hoxton heroics that cant accept good music when i hear it- just because a song is r&b doesnt mean its automatically bad. get over yourselves.
Besides, who can actually listen to a whole james blake or caribou album without feeling disturbed?!
Friday by rebbecca black has bought so much happiness into my life ‘my hand is a dolphinnnn’ that i kind of like it. Basically, being open minded makes life so much easier.
true, there is soooo much bad music in the charts at the moment . but no need to get you’re knickers in a twist ya tumblr keenos.
[ anyhow surely reblogging stuff on tumblr is just copying other people? not so indie now eh?]
However, just to be hypocritical of everyything i’ve just said-
If you are a One Direction or Chase & Status Fan we clearly have such a different view on life that we can never be associated with one another.
peacee x
I KNEW THIS DAY WOULD COME..
today at school, a seagull crapped on me.
lml.
itss christmasss
When I was younger I used be scared of the huge noise that crackers make, so i’d had to have someone covering my ears or whatever. but anyway, once the dreadful ordeal was over we could enjoy the wonderful gifts magically brought to us by pulling apart the crackers.
-Cracker jokes.
similar to marmite in some respects. you cant put them on your toast, but people tend to love ‘em or hate ‘em.
ngl i’m completely on the cracker joke hype! I forgot to go to my careers meeting the other day. literally just remembered that- soz- but if i had gone i’d have told the careers adviser that I want to be a joke writer.
lolzz:
What do you call a man with brown paper trousers?
Russell
[the next one is a bit cheeky so if you are under 18 please stop reading thanks]
What is white, lives at the north pole and runs around naked?
A polar bare!
hahhahaahha etcetc
Gosh i’m sad. Moving on,
-Charades
DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED. seriously.CAN ABSOLUTELY NOBODY, THINK OF ANYTHING OTHER THAN LORD OF THE RINGS?!!
Maybe its because I’m a highly skilled charades player, je ne sais pas.
try acting out something different this year
‘Sherlock Holmes in the Singular Case of the Plural Green Mustache‘ for example.
