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Reasons why I like to live alone.

Published June 10, 2017 by Naomi Rettig

1. I can exhale belches so deep that they sound like echoes from the Grand Canyon, amplified via five hundred and fifty-five megaphones.

2. I can throw my head back and open my jaw wider than the Wookey Hole cave, to yawn flamboyantly, vacuuming in sixty-eight per cent of the room’s oxygen.

3. I can release my wind freely, while playing television theme tunes with my pliable buttocks. The A-Team is my most accomplished piece.

4. I can leave my legs unshaven. And as I don’t have a pet this is also therapeutic to stroke them while watching Emmerdale.

5. I can walk around nude, feeling totally free, without having to supply brain bleach to anyone.

6. I can dance in my underwear whenever I want to. I would dance nude but large boobs and gravity are dance saboteurs.

7. I can have a day without wearing make-up, without anyone thinking I’m ill, or dead. I can’t risk decapitation because I’m mistaken for a zombie.

8. I can also do the opposite, experiment with bright coloured make-up. I can spend the day resembling the result of a drag queen and geisha’s lusty liaison without scaring the bejesus out of anyone. Except maybe an unexpecting postman.

9. I can watch whatever I want on television. A sport free zone. A political free zone. A Top Gear free zone.

10. I can have good quality conversation with myself about conspiracy theories, ninja cats, and Spongebob Squarepants.

11. I can eat four jam doughnuts in a row, and leave my face covered with sugar for the whole time of consumption.

12. I can sing loudly and badly in the shower, and twerk in the shower without worrying about offending the ears or eyes of innocent bystanders.

13. I can snore like a grizzly bear and not annoy anyone. And I can get a good night’s sleep myself without having to listen to anyone else snore, breath, release gas, or sleep talk about their work colleague stealing their yogurt.

14. I can cry when I need to. Being an emotional person sometimes it’s therapeutic to just have a good cry and let it all out. This might freak a cohabiter out to suddenly burst into tears while dusting. Although dusting can reduce me to tears all by itself.

15. I can have quiet time when I need it. Sometimes I need to not have contact with fellow human beings – this is an overlap from being a cat in a previous life. I like to be left alone to eat and sleep and write/play with a cat nip stuffed mouse.

This is why I like to live alone.

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Cinema Crimes

Published April 15, 2017 by Naomi Rettig

I love the cinema. If I won the lottery I would build my own mini cinema, for use only by myself, and maybe any friends that have cinema etiquette. Most people these days don’t have cinema etiquette and should stay at home and watch DVD’s. But they don’t. They filter into cinemas annoying those of us easily annoyed by the human species know as ‘totalious inconsiderous twatus’. There are four main crimes that the T.I.T.s are guilty of.

Personal space invaders: These are the people who, even though the cinema is three quarters empty, will sit directly behind or in front of you. Compete T.I.T.s will sit in the seat next to you. This happened to me yesterday. Partial blame was with the ticket sales lady who acted as an enabler to the T.I.T that sat next to me. When myself and my friend bought our tickets, and were asked where we wanted to sit, I gave the usual answer: at the back away, far from other people. Imagine my horror then, in the three hundred seat cinema, when there were only ten of us dotted around, a beige couple and hyperactive adolescent headed straight towards us. Yes, the sadistic ticket lady had seated them directly next to me. Now, any normal human being would have looked at me, hogging the arm rest and with a face like a homicidal hippo on crystal meth, and would have decided to sit in any of the remaining two hundred and ninety seats available. But no, these T.I.T.s were sticking to their allocated seats. I was speechless. My friend and I moved seats, I gave my best death stare. Their faces have been saved to the facial recognition software in my brain, and when the zombie apocalypse arrives, (putting on my best Liam Neeson voice) I will look for them, I will find them, and I will kill them.

Noisy eaters: Most films are an hour and a half or two hours tops. For Satan’s sake can people not go ninety to a hundred minute without stuffing their faces with food. But not just any food, noisy food. Nachos are not a good cinema food. Sitting in proximity to the replicated noise of a hamster annihilating an acre of Ryvita raises my blood pressure greatly. Suck your nachos, this will make you a better person. Actually, scrap that, all food should be banned. Because if you’re quietly devouring a hot dog I’m being distracted from the film by the smell of reconstituted meat and onions. Pick’n’mix may be acceptable if you tear along the paper bag before the film starts, so there’s not that annoying rustle every time a hand is dunked in and swooshed around. Why are people searching in their bags of pix’n’mix? They chose the sweets that are in there themselves, so just grab the first one you come to, it’s not going to be a complete surprise. What will be a complete surprise is when I track you down after the zombie apocalypse and ram twenty-six chocolate mice down your throat.

Mobile phone addicts: People, please turn your phones off before going into the cinema. Don’t be a T.I.T. You’ve paid money to watch a film, why do you want to miss chunks of it by checking your Facebook, emails, and Twitter feed. Watch the film, not your phone. Do you not realise that when you swipe your screen on, it’s like the Blackpool illuminations for people ten rows back and beyond, for everyone closer it’s like staring directly at an eclipse. And if you are sat within my eyesight range I will see your name as you browse your Facebook, and this will make tracking you down during the zombie apocalypse much easier for me.

Talkers: When I’m watching a film, I like to go into ‘cinema trance’ and get totally absorbed into the film. Having to listen to people talking about completely irrelevant drivel drains my patience. I don’t know your friends Adam and Laura, therefore I don’t care about or want to hear about Adam’s latest STD or Laura’s new juice plan diet. I certainly don’t want to hear this while I’m trying to transport myself into the film. And if you’ve brought someone to the cinema with you that needs the film plot explained to them in minute detail, is this not irritating for you? It’s blooming irritating for me, listening to: Who’s that? Why are they pressing that button? Why is she wearing a green dress? Just shut up and watch the fudging film, because when that zombie apocalypse happens, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you. Unless I’m too busy killing zombies. Or hiding. Or eating nachos and pick’n’mix in my private cinema, while checking my phone for Instagram zombie pics.