Lilula
Coming soon.
Questions on Blogging
1. Do you try to look hot when you go to the grocery store just in case someone recognizes you from your blog?
Totally. I stroll right on in with my nose held high and my ass unusually pert. If I don’t look good whilst wrestling with the heavy freezer doors guarding the Ben & Jerry’s ice cream then I fail at life.
2. Are the photos you post photoshopped or otherwise altered?
I crop them and add borders. Sometimes I even sneakily photoshop in frowning naked mole rats to see if people will notice. Some people have, but curiously they identify these inclusions as my face.
3. Do you like it when creeps or dorks email you?
Of course. I send myself emails all the time.
4. Do you lie in your blog?
OK, I confess. I am actually a house cat by the name of Billy and my only interests are maiming the people around me.
5. Are you passive-aggressive in your blog?
Quite possibly. I presume being anal is synonymous with that sentiment.
6. Do you ever threaten to quit writing so people will tell you not to stop?
I try and make my writing more obscure and banal to test the stupidity threshold my readers have. They seem to be able to take a lot.
7. Are you in therapy? If not, should you be? If so, is it helping?
I probably should be - see the passive aggressive question.
8. Do you delete mean comments? Do you fake nice ones?
It really depends. Sometimes I get comments that say ‘Ur blog sux’ and whilst I agree with them whole heartedly I also find it funny to change their comment to something equally inane such as ‘I wuffles u!!’
9. Have you ever rubbed one out while reading a blog? How about after?
Always whilst reading my blog. I am egocentric and narcissistic like most bloggers. Next time you comment, bring tissue.
10. If your readers knew you in person, would they like you more or like you less?
Probably less. I’m more difficult to get rid of in real life.
11. Do you have a job?
I used to work for my dad in a programming firm. It was fun but then I had to return to university.
12. If someone offered you a decent salary to blog full-time without restrictions, would you do it?
At the moment blogging is the only thing I thoroughly enjoy in life in terms of a hobby, so I’d snap that offer up faster than it takes to feel bitter about it.
13. Which blogger do you want to meet in real life?
There’s not many bloggers I want to meet. Personally I find most of them dull, irritating people - no I jest! Rachael is pretty cool, and we have met before 
14. Which bloggers have you made out with?
Does Daniel Craig have a blog? Well, maybe not…
15. Do you usually act like you have more money or less money than you really have?
I think the first sentence on my about page states I am penniless.
16. Does your family read your blog?
I’ve asked them to a couple of times, but I think they’re intimidated by it. I don’t know if it’s in a ‘where did we go wrong raising our child’ sort of way or in a ‘we can’t be arsed’ way.
17. How old is your blog?
My blogging history is too much for any one individual to take (since around 2003).
18. Do you get more than 1000 page views per day? Do you care?
I have no clue what my statistics are. I checked them for the first time ever a while back to see how many people visited my site using Internet Explorer 6 - just wanted to know if it was worth tweaking the current design to accommodate them. Which I did.
19. Do you have another secret blog in which you write about being slutty, or a liar?
This is that secret blog.
20. Have you ever given another blogger money for his/her writing?
Not that I know of. Give me ure monehz.
21. Do you report the money you earn from your blog on your taxes?
I wish I earned money from my blog. Any rich billionaires out there that want to invest?
22. Is blogging narcissistic?
Of course. All personal blogging is about feeding the ego, despite what people say. A website is a publication hence personal blogging is just an advertisement of the self whether it be on a shallow or insightful scale. Some just accept that fact better than others.
23. Do you feel guilty when you don’t post for a long time?
Sometimes. I get paranoid thinking the same entry has been up for a long time and often try and counter this with stupid posts that make people wonder why they ever come back. This is one of them.
24. Do you like John Mayer?
Whom? Isn’t he like Jack Johnson or am I confused?
25. Do you have enemies?
My neighbours. Some people at university. My cat.
26. Are you lonely?
Probably. I do have a happy life, but sometimes I wonder why I blog about my personal doings and if it’s because I crave attention from strangers. Hi there! Have any candy?
27. Why bother?
I don’t know, in the end I’ll probably be disappointed.
Man Flu Alert
Hostile Takeover
Yes this is just like Poland. And no, you will not be receiving a petty blog entry from the inferior human that goes by the ridiculous name ‘Lilian’. Instead you will be hearing from me, the cat you may know as ‘Billy’. That is my slave name given to me by the uncreative humans. BAH! I scoff at their choice. My birth name is Fatty-Bum-Bum. I was so aptly named for my supple figure.
I am part of the Feline Uprising Resistance alongside comrades Ginger Bowie and Sooty Devil, also known as Max and Hex to you disgusting hairless creatures. We have already taken the internet as our own. Fight, and you will lie victim to our many sharp teeth and claws. There is no hope for you worthless Hello Kitty enthusiasts. Food will fail to tempt us. WE ARE STRONG!
And despite what you may have seen in the last entry, I do not engage in the act of dancing to such distasteful music by such absurd humans. I am known as a beautiful singer in the world of cats but you humans would never understand such beauty.
SIGNING OFF! Remember, surrender or DIE!
Comments are offLove You Jose Cuervo
For The Logo Makers
I’ve made a fabulous present. It’s not me lap dancing whilst singing Kelis - I soon realised that I couldn’t dance or sing and decided to spare you all. Unless you’d like to believe that I actually sound like Kelis and am a lardy castrated black cat. BEHOLD! My mighty Flash skills will astound and bedazzle you!
Many thanks to Eilidh, Annie and Cecelia whom provided me with the logo mock-up’s to create the epilepsy inducing background. In all seriousness each of you came up with a fantastic idea and it’s got the cogs turning. I might churn something out later when I’ve got my branding unit later in April.
Of course musical credits go to the very unique Kelis who provided the wonderful (remixed) chorus you’re hearing a shoddy recording of right now. Not a truer word has been spoken in regards to what a logo is meant to do which is bring all the boys to the yard. Damn right it’s better than yours.
Comments are offA Challenge of Sorts
Recently I read a post on Just Creative Design on how to design a logo. It got me thinking about how I will eventually have to brand myself in order to put my lawl worthy skills on the market - it’s actually one of our upcoming units at university. My friends up in illustration had a briefing on a similar unit a while back and they were told to come up with a simple draft of a logo.
The concept was simple. Create a logo using your initials. My friends have some slick initials which bode well as memorable logos - RW, KL, RL - notice how the sloping kick of their first initial sweeps into the vertical construct that is their last initial. Wonderful. As a joke I decided to have a go at creating a logo from my initials.
Lilian Tula? LT? Then it hit me.
My initials are a typographical abomination. You can’t put L and T together in a way that looks nice. Box it together and it looks like a square with an ‘appendage’. Put it vertical and you get a freaky looking swastika. Put the T lying down and you get a U with a ‘protrusion’.
How will I ever get work with such hideous initials?!
So here’s a proposition - design me a logo using only my initials. Forget my middle name, it’s a lost cause and will make your eyes bleed from the horrifying aesthetic that is my initials in their entirety. The logo can be as stupid or as creative as you like, there are no boundaries whatsoever. The colours and size can be as you see fit.
Post your entries via this entry, or send them in an e-mail. Winner gets a lap dance from yours truly, whilst singing ‘Milkshake’ by Kelis. Whether or not that’s appropriate - or desirable - is up to you.
Comments are offSmile, You’re Hot
A while back I changed my wallpaper to a bunny in a bubble with an octopus who lost his legs in the war, courtesy of Marie. It made her giggle that I changed it from a picture of a delicious construction worker. Said construction worker was helping to build a new block at the school my aunt works in back in Houston. She and her co-workers thought he was so yummy that they took a picture through a fence whilst he was conspicuously posing.
We aptly named him ‘Diet Coke Moment’.
Is that a hammer in your pocket or are you just glad to see me? Innuendo’s set aside I joked with my aunt about how he was posing and how stalker-like it was to take photos of hot strangers. I’ve had to bite my tongue. Recently I was rifling through some old photos from a university project that took place up in London. Lo and behold, like aunt like niece…
Look at those muscles! Also, unlike Diet Coke Moment I asked Arm Yourself to pose for me. I suddenly like London a lot more. Have any of you ever taken a picture of a total stranger simply because they’re gorgeous? Maybe we should compile them for research purposes…
Comments are offHappy Saint Paddy’s
Gluttony Ahoy
My Cat is Evil
If Billy got any fatter or meaner he’d turn into a tub of lard with a Hitler moustache. Just look at him in the picture below - he’s the embodiment of feline fury.
Our story begins one fine evening whilst I was dossing away on the computer as usual. In comes Billy feeling particularly joyous, rolling over, exposing the folds in his stomach. And so I start petting him, particularly pleased that he had decided to extend the olive branch of peace. How mistaken was I.
Just like a Trojan horse - awaiting the opportune moment to unleash it’s hidden power and kill all the inhabitants of Troy - he attacked.
It was a fearsome fight involving digging his front claws into my hand, lacerating my skin as he pulled my hand into his mouth and biting (as well as drooling onto) my hand. The brutality didn’t end there either.
Billy wanted to make sure that I’d never use my right hand ever again (my writing hand too the sly bastard) and as such brought his back paws up and started cycling them viciously as though he were sprinting on the spot and my hand were the ground.
The horrible battle eventually ended, but not because I deservingly kicked him in the face. He jolted and ran for his life as I pulled away, probably clever enough to realise that a ten stone woman can kick the ass of a one stone furry gimp for a cat.
So here’s the damage - the swelling isn’t visible. Thousands of skin cells lost their lives. I now have a sad expression permanently etched on my visage unable to forget the fateful day on which Billy bit the hand that fed him.
I have yet to take out my revenge, although last night whilst he slept at my feet I kicked him accidentally. I was dreaming my dad was pissing me off and awoke to a sorrowful meow as Billy darted off my bed to go feel sorry for himself.
Sodding cats.
Disclaimer: I would never purposely hurt my cat. Ever. I love my stupid meatball even if he is more aggressive than a shit load of Spartans.
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