Dear Virgin

I have been inspired by a book called 'Dear Customer Services' by Terry Ravenscroft. He writes to food companies like tesco and heinz or whatever and either complains or praises the product, the first letter starts of quite normal and then in his replys he gets more and more stupid like saying their product is improving his sex life. it's very funny. Anyway I think I will have a go at writing to someone I was going to choose T.V licencing because I hate them but I have already writen to them a few years ago when they sent me a threatening letter about not having a T.V licence when I didn't have a T.V. I wrote in red felt pen and signed it 'Love Hannah xx' and they wrote back and atually aplogised for scaring me. I've decided to send this letter below to Virgin:



Dear Virgin,

I wanted to congratulate you as an organisation for your moral values in a day and age where morals seem to have gone out of the window. It is rare for a company as large as yourselfs to adear so closely to biblical principles. I know that Cadbury's were on of the first companies to trully look after their workers and provide them with deccent housing and that this was born out of their religious Quaker rootes, but to only employ virgins in your company is very noble of you. It must be a considerable sacrifice for older members of your company such as Richard Branson to have keept their virginity for all this time. However I was wondering what is your policy with your staff who are married? Must they also refrain from sexual activity? because I feel that this is a little to harsh, even Christians have sex within the context of marrige and this even encoraged in the bible- shocking I know! 'the husband should not deprive his wife of sexual intermacy, which is her right as a married woman, nor should the wife deprive her husband' (1 Corinthians 7:3) I'd be intrigued to know what your policy on this is. Once again may I congratulate you on your outstading moral values.

Yours sincerly
Miss H Wibble

The Naked Horse Lady

This week I organised a group of people called 'studio' to come to an arts event which on a poster discribed itself as a 'magical live art comedy experience.' On the day of the event which was held in the gallery I work it, I asked a few people who had been before what it was like and it was discribed as 'the worse preformance I have ever been to' which made me a bit nervous as to what the people I'd invited would think. I was still trying to redeem myself from the last time I organised something cultural which was going to a open mic poetry event in a hippy drug den where the first poem read out I would describe as in the 'angry lesbian' genre. It wasn't atually that bad once it got going, and I had a nice chat with the angry lesbian after and she was atually quite friendly.


So this live art comedy thing started with the most unfunny couple in the world saying unfunny things to each other, it wasn't even funny in the 'it's funny coz it's not funny way' it just wasn't funny. The they left the stage and a woman who was wearing absolutly nothing except a pair of red shoes and a rubber horse's head walked on to the stage and talking in a belguim accecent about being a horse, but thinking she was a different horse to the one she was. it want on for a quite a while, I tryed to look at my friends in a sorry-for-bringing-you-here sort of way but unfortunatly there's not some kind of international sign language for 'I didn't intend to make you pay to see a naked woman with a horses head' the horse lady then started walking into the audience and decided to sit down on the seat next to my friend Hazel who had never been to a studio event before and probably never will again. The horse lady asked Hazel to stroke her....what do you do in this situation?! no one wants to stroke a naked lady who's wearing a horse head but then it's a bit rude to refuse to do something by a woman it one of the most vunrable positions ever..naked with very little vision infront of an audience. Hazel was very diplomatic and stroked the head of the horse not the atual woman. There are two life lessons that I will take away from this experience: first never take people to live art events you know nothing about and second be prepaired for every eventuality even if it is as unlikely as knowing what you would do if a naked woman with a horses' head asks you to stroke her. I quite often prepaire myself for the senario of a man holding me at gunpiont and saying 'is a sausage dog a dog or a sausage?' or ''is a hotdog a dog or a sausage?' me and my housemate Danni do it to each other at random intervals just to test our reflexes, but I think I need to branch out to more surreal senarios just in case.

A letter to my boss

Dear Manager,
I am writing to express my concern about the lack of toilet facilities specifically for staff use on our premisis. I am under the impression that most organisations the size of ours that work with young people do have a seperate staff toilet. I know that funding is tight and you may think that money can be put to better use elsewhere but let allow me to put forward and argument for a staff toilet by drawing on some anecdotal evidence:

Yesterday after I'd finished work I went to the toilet to do a poo, I have a personal rule not to poo if I can hear anyone else in the toilet area, when I sat down the toilet was empty so I proceded to go about my business. Mid -poo a student walked in, just at the point of no return, I had no choice but to continue, I'd tryed to minimise the 'plop' sound as best I could, but unfortunatly I was all to aware of an audible 'plop' I finished my business and went out to wash my hand when I was greeted by the student who said 'alright Hannah' in a friendly fashion. I breathed a sigh of relef - either she hadn't heard or she wasn't going to mention it. She continued 'did you have a good poo? I can smell it!' (I personally think she couldn't smell it she could only hear it) I answered 'yes' I could hardly deny it and I like to think I was making a small step to removing the taboo that sourounds pooing.

After washing my hands I walked out to be greeted by another smiling overly friendly youth, this time I was suspicious and I had every right to be as they continued to question me about my poo very loudly in the busy recception area. I decided the only thing to do was to refused to be embarrased, it is a natural bodily function after all. I contiued as normal collecting my bike and signing out of the building redy for my ride home. Gathered by the railing were a whole gang of youths smoking and laughing, as I walked my bike past them they began to ask me in great detail about my toilet experience. not not be out done I tryed to answer back in equally as much detail ' I had a fantastic poo thanks, there's nothing better after a hard day at work than to relax by having a massive poo'

So if you don't want members of staff standing outside your building shouting about their poo then a staff toilet is nessisary. It is my ambition to one day work for an organisation where you can share a toilet with people who are to polite to tell you they can hear or smell your poo.

yours sincerly
Hannah.

The Blood-Stained Hat

I was recently talking to my housemate Danni who's been away at her parents for a few days. We were catching up about what's been happening- she's been ill and I've been getting naked and phoning the police (not at the same time- see previous 2 blogs for details) So I was discribing this woman that I was life modleing for (heavy smoker, bad teath, dyed blond hair in a bowl hair cut, potential lesbian) and that's when Danni started linking the two stories together purly based on the fact that I discribled this woman as a potential lesbian and when I saw the fight in my street a man was shouting 'your a f***ing lesbian' she put 2 and 2 together then divided it by the square root of 43.9 and then multiplied it by pi and together we came up with this possible seniriao:

So this lady who I will give the false name Jackie, was happly marred to a man who I will call Jack. Jack was rooting through a cupboard looking for his favorite grey hat when he came accros a folded up chalk drawing of me naked dated last week. Why had Jakie been drawing naked woman in thir flat? in a fit of rage and jelousy he ripped up the drawing and went in search of her. after half an hour of fruitless searching he did what all bad stalkers do and phone her to ask where she was, Jackie claimed she was shoping but attually she came over to mine bringing a grey hat that she wanted me to wear in my next modeling session. Jack drove around near the shops for ages until he spoted Jackie holding his beloved gray hat. If Jack had been a little more eloquent he would have said 'I am pondering as to why you invited an 24 year old woman round to our flat for a life modling session, and quite franckly your secreacy regarding this matter has lead me to question your sexuality' but Jack who had never been good at confrontation pulled up in his car and started shouting 'your a f***ing lesbian!' over and over again. In the fight the hat was droped on the floor and Jackie was beaten to a pulp. In a panic Jack disposed of her body in greenbank park lake. leaving behing the Blood-stained hat as evedence.

Back to reality- this is the hat found outside my house, it looked a lot more blood-stained than this in real life. The police phoned me back about the incedent I reported, they said it was lads playfighting and I was like really that's not what it sounded like? and then they said 'oh no sorry- it was domestic, half the crimes on my list are play fight and half are domestic I get confused sometimes.' Woo! go mersyside police, hope you don't mistakes like that when your arresting people. I'm half expecting them to phone back and say 'oh atually it was murder'

'The Busys'

If your not from liverpool you might not know that 'the busys' is scouce for the police. I got to phone the police on saturday night/ sunday morning it was really fun, I've never phoned them before. Although when I was 10 I did get my name and address taken down by the police for making prank calls even though I attually didn't, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and lied about stuff.

There's been a couple of other times that I could have phone the police but they were both in situations where the scaryness of what was happening outweighed my excitment about phoning the police and someone else ending up calling. but this time it was quite fun, there was a fight in my street and a lot of shouting 'your a *uckin* lesbian' (I thougt I go for alturnative starring there) it carried on for about five minutes well I watched out of my window thinking 'can I justify calling the police they're only really arguing', but then I saw a bit of kicking and some more vehicals pulling up so I though I could justify it. Its quite exciting watching crime from the comfort of your own bed. The next day there was a blood stained hat outside my neighbours house, I'm not sure if that's connected.

My Nudity-Soup Exchange

On Wednesday I exchange My own nudity for soup..... it was really good soup though, Jamie Oliver chirizo and sweet potatoe soup (and many other expencive ingredience). I guess if your the average internet user then you would be more interested in hearing about nudity than soup though. There are two ways of telling this story one is that I'm so poor that I had to sell myself in order to buy soup, and the other is that I spent and hour sitting around doing nothing and got £15 pounds which I chose to spend on soup ingredience. The first is a lie, the second is a lot more true. I should probably point out that the getting naked bit was life modeling, eg I got naked and sat on this womans sofa and she drew me. I think it's probably the most socially accecptable way of getting naked for cash. I wasn't atually too bothered about the getting naked part, I've been to life drawing classes before so I know the unwritten rules of life modeling:

- When a model is naked don't talk to them or even look them in the eye.

- when they are clothed have a nice chat with them.

this means that models need to bring a dressing gown so that the artists can direct them inbetween poses.

The bit I was nervous about was going to this womans flat, even though I'd spoken to her on the phone and she sounded like an old lady, it could have been a elaborate plot involving an evil gang of men ad a webcam or something. Me and Dan arraged beforehand that if he hadn't heard from me by 4pm he would come and break her door down. Good job my phone didn't run out of battery or anything that could have been unfortunate.