Clumsy

Happy Humpday Angelfaces!

I thought I’d share with you a few little anecdotes today, all focused around me being a right old klutz.

Starting with everyones favourite subject. Broken bones. I’ve fractured a fair few. Four to be exact. My arm and elbow when I was a little one, both the fault of brothers, thanks lads. One tooth knocked out by the elder aswell. Cheers for making all my school pictures gappy until I was 10.

But the other two broken bones, my wrist and foot. That was aaaalll me. Classic clumsy Liv.

First of all the foot...  It happened 10 minutes after arriving at our little bungalow in Bracklesham Bay. My Dad knows how to holiday amiright?! I got so excited at the thought of the back gate opening onto the beach that I ran down the garden, tripped on a molehill and heard a big old snap. (Soz. Gross.) Broke a metatarsal didn’t I. Spent the rest of the week on crutches!

Secondly the wrist, I tell this story all the time, so apologies to those who have heard it already! Of course, I was under the influence of alcohol. Swanning around in 6inch heels/wedges. (Classy.) aaand I was drinking a bottle of bubbly with a straw?! (Dafuq!?) Recipe for disaster.

Now I love having a boogie I do. Classic first one on the dancefloor! But of course these things escalate and I got myself into a dance off situation, as you do, and its all a little blurry now. I mean, I couldn’t tell you exactly what happened but I remember singing to ‘Move, Shake, Drop.’ (tune.) and I dropped, went down like a sack of shit.

To this day I’m still unsure as to whether it was all me, or if Ellen fell on me too?! (CHEERS LEN!) But yeah, broke my wrist in two places?! I’m just as clumsy after a cava, or six...

So they weren’t my two finest moments, but probably the worst outcomes. Everything else I do, is just day to day foolishness. I could blame it on my blindness, but then my glasses are the size of jamjars. No excuse.

I slipped down half the carriage on the train the other day, like I was something out of a bloody musical. Should have finished with jazz hands really! Didn’t fall on my arse though.

I walk into walls constantly at work, home, bloody wherever. Door frames are my worst enemy. Those buggers give me all the best bruises. I’m like a dodgy apple.

Another classic is choking on my own saliva. Honestly, its the most irritating thing and no matter how many times I do it, I still think, oh fuck, this is it, IM GONNA DIE.

Next is spilling drinks. Did it on a first date didn’t I. Classic. At first I was apologetic but then I just told the bloke to go stand under a hand dryer. Sorted.

I’m not as bad as one of my friends though. I think I’ve probably shared this before but still to this day it cracks me up. Drue used to spill shit all the time. She’d open up her kitchen cupboard and something would just jump out. It would always be hard to clean up too, like oil or rice or couscous. Bless her cottons. That girl got through a fair few glasses too. We give her plastic cups now. They actually bounce when they hit the floor.

LOVE YA DRUE.

But to finish it all off,  last of all, its falling down stairs. I always seem to do it at home with a cup of coffee in my hand. Bloody annoying and of course the coffee goes EVERYWHERE.

I’ve slipped down stairs twice in a club aswell. Nightclubs shouldn’t have stairs! Bloody safety hazaard. I did get a hilarious bruise on my bumcheek though.

I just fall down a lot to be honest. Fell off a curb the other day. Which I suppose is kind of like stairs, only there’s one of them...

TRAGIC.

Anyway I hope that made you chuckle!

I bet there are a lot of you that are just as clumsy as me.

Thats what I’m gonna keep telling myself anyway.

Big love.