I’ve just had to put my Spotify in ‘private session’ to listen to Taylor Swift, so people don’t judge me on Facebook and now I’m so ashamed of myself, I’m writing a blog about it

I have a reputation to uphold, before you judge me. People always compliment me on my music taste. People say things like ‘Hannah, oh my god, you’re music taste is the best, I love listening to your playlists, you are so cool’ and I’m like, Yeah I know. People have genuinely stopped me on public transport to compliment my music tastes. (#livingthedream)

Then I got Spotify. And Spotify asked me to sign up with Facebook. Spotify said it would be easier this way. Spotify said I could join my friends, and connect with them through music. And I said ok Spotify, I’ll play your games, I just want to listen to free music.

Then one day, I got a notification from an old school friend who had commented on my ‘recently listened on Spotify’ playlist:

‘hahaha Hannah, didn’t realise you were a 1D fan’

I hastily made a joke about one direction, made an excuse like ‘hahahhahaha no was my sister lol lol not me. Don’t worry hahah lol yeah hahhahaha’

‘Well’, I thought. I think the album track ‘I would’ on One Direction’s second Studio Album ‘Take Me Home’ is a catchy and uplifting song about a teenage boy loving a girl at school more than her current boyfriend who apparently has ’27 tattoos’. I mean, we’ve all been there, right? Harry Styles solo is perfection and heartbreaking at the same time. But, I remembered my music reputation, and I thought, I would keep these feelings to myself.

So that brought me to today. Today I remembered how much I love Taylor swift’s album ‘Fearless’ I love it. ‘You belong with me’ was the song that represented my 15 year old self . ‘SHE DOESN’T GET YOUR HUMOUR LIKE I DO’ I would cry in to my pillow at night. So many great memories.

I was like, do you know what? I want to listen to that album today. I want to just sing about boys who ride white horses and that are called Stephen, who are you to judge? So I put my playlist on ‘private session’.

I’m so disgusted at myself. I’ve became a music snob, I’ve gone too far, what if I become one of those  people who say something like ‘wait for the drop’ in a dubstep song. Which, incidentally, something I don’t want to be.

So I wrote a blog about it. I feel better about myself. It’s fine that I like Taylor. I just wish Spotify wouldn’t tell Facebook about it.


Things that confused me at DisneyLand


I went to DisneyLand Paris last week. As a rollercoaster enthusiast and someone who enjoys the odd parade and a French Buzz Lightyear, DisneyLand Paris was the place to be. But there was some things that confused me about the experience, here they are;

  1. Why do children cry at Disneyland?

I will never understand this. What the fuck are you upset about? YOU ARE IN THE MAGIC FUCKING KINGDOM. Guess what babe? Life is downhill from here.  Never again will you be able to dress up as ‘Belle’ from beauty in the Beast, and people saw ‘awww’. In fact the next time you dress up as Belle at Halloween,  in  approximately 10 years’ time,  boys will come up to you and say ‘hey belle, do you wanna see my beast?’ or ‘hey belle, be my guest… in the bedroom LOL’ and you will probably feel violated, or enjoy it, because you’re a slut, either way, the future isn’t looking bright for that Belle costume.  

2.  Why is everything in the gift shop ’20 fuckin’ euros’?

This was my dad’s favourite saying, ‘see that keyring? Hannah?’ yeah, I see it dad ’20 fuckin Euros’ it became a fun game throughout the day, to find ridiculous objects that were ’20 fuckin euros’ My favourite was a plastic 3ft bottle which contained popcorn. Which was 20 fuckin Euros. Why would you want a 3ft container of popcorn? I can’t fathom a useful explanation for the creation of 3ft container of popcorn.

3. Why do parents buy small children princess makeovers?

It’s called ‘Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique’ and girls as young as 3 can have a princess makeover. This includes ‘Shimmering make-up, face gem’ makeover. You can teach your daughter that her prince charming will only appear when she drastically changes her wardrobe choices, and her face sparkles like Tinkerbell on crack. Prices start from $40.



The light parade was fucking awesome though.




Don’t need make-up, To cover up, Being the way that you are is enough… but you do need One Direction’s new makeup line.

‘You don’t know you’re beautiful!’, One Direction coo in the camera. You don’t know you’re beautiful young teenage girl, but we could help you out, we’ve got some make up stuff to sell, and you’re going to buy it.

I’m very much confused on why One Direction have done this. Firstly, please correct me if I am wrong, I wasn’t aware that they had any knowledge or even interest in the makeup industry. Secondly, their debut hit single ‘You don’t know you’re beautiful’ condemns wearing make-up, I assumed the hidden message to that number 1 hit was to boost teenage girl’s confidence and in doing so, dismantling cosmetic chains everywhere, I expected there would be some kind of anti-makeup protest, women every breaking eyeliners in half, and smearing lip stick to the ground. Strangely enough none of that happened, and instead One Direction have Brought out their own make up line ‘little things’ http://muacosmetics.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/one-direction-beauty-little-things-from.html

Apparently, according to the MUA cosmetics line website,

‘Harry loves Strawberry, Zayn loves Watermelon, Louis loves Vanilla, Niall loves Cherry, Liam loves Blueberry – which one will you choose?!’

I will choose my dignity thank you.

The best bit is the makeup packaging consists of the boys’ ‘what makes you beautiful’ line. This makes you beautiful, this blueberry lip polish will make you beautiful. And if you ever bump in to Liam Payne, then you have hit the jack pot, because Blueberry is his favourite.

Again, Why? Is this purely money related? Because I was under the impression that One Direction already had a lot of that, (£25 million to be precise). Or was it purely for the fans? I asked my 12 year old sister, who is crazily obsessed with the quintet, what she thought of the makeup range. “well it depends. What’s in it?’ I list of the range; a nail polish, lip polish, cheek tint and lipstick. “yeah. I guess, if it was nice” But, I argue, what about their song? You don’t need make up to cover up! ‘hmm, yeah, its hypocritical’ but you would still buy it? ‘yeah, I already said I would, but ONLY if it was nice’ she then walks off, and seems annoyed at me. She didn’t seem too bothered. Which probably sums this whole thing up.



My translation of sexist tweets that took place during the Apprentice Final

After the final of the apprentice tonight, I took to twitter, and browsed the trending topics. To no surprise the trending topics included ‘#TheApprenticeFinal’ ‘Luisa’ ‘Yes Leah’. As I perused, to my disgust, there was several degrading tweets belittling both apprentice finalists. I personally don’t enjoy reading this kind of awful, mind numbingly sexist comments. So, I took the liberty of translating them into powerful, independent, booty shaking feminist power statements. You may thank me later. 



TRANSLATION: Yes Leah! I think you are a fantastic role model for young women everywhere! You can 100% choose what you want to do with your body.

p.s – I’m very lonely and buy Nuts, even though Porn is free on the internet, which I can’t log on to because my parents have an Under 18’s child lock on my computer *sad face*



TRANSLATION: Yes Leah! Wow! You are a fine young woman, but I do not judge you on your body, I in fact judge you on your business skills which you have shown over the past 12 weeks on the BBC’s apprentice. Well done for winning, I’m sure you will go on to have a successful and prosperous career. 



TRANSLATION: Yes Leah! I am mainly an awful person. Well done for winning though! I’m the worst 😦 




TRANSLATION: Leah, you are a strong independent woman. I look up to you. You are fantastic at business and doctor and stuff. #woopwoop 

I think that’s what the creators of these tweets were actually meaning to say. But I hope they just couldn’t find the right words to communicate their true feminista spirit. 


I would also like to congratulate Dr Leah Totton on winning The Apprentice. Keep doing what your doing giiirrrllll #feminista


Why I go to University, and why Boris Johnson is the biggest Joker of them all.

I am a student currently studying politics at university. I am also a woman. I assume you’re shocked at the last sentence. A woman at university? Ludicrous. I thought you’d be chained to a kitchen, making your boyfriend a sandwich (A gaggle of UNI lads will snigger, yeah, bitch, make me a sandwich.) No no, It’s weird. I chose to come to university, because, sorry, this is going to sound a bit bizarre… I like to study, I am passionate about my course, and I would like to advance my career opportunities. 

I know what you’re thinking: is this broad for real?

Or you’re thinking; why are you being so heavily sarcastic, of course I’m not surprised you go to university, of course those are fantastic legitimate reasons why you would choose to go to university, who in 2013 would think otherwise?

Well, it would be Britain’s bashful, boastful, posho, sexist, mayor of London: Boris Johnson.

Mr Boris Johnson suggested that female university students “have got to find men to marry”, and that, incidentally, was the reason why 68% women study within Malaysian Universities. (http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2013/jul/08/boris-johnson-women-university-husband

The worst bit of Boris’ statement was that it was meant as a joke.

What is a joke? What is a hilarious, genuinely funny piece of material and what is, at best; a poor, excruciatingly painful sexist comment, disguised under the premise of a joke? Because recently, the humble joke has become a ‘get out of jail free card’ for people who can’t actually tell jokes, or were ever blessed with a sense of humour, but they do enjoy a good old kitchen/sandwich/get a husband  gender based comment. This is fine. If you enjoy laughing at men eating sandwiches which a female has prepared for them, then please, laugh until your heart is content. But strangely, that is not how people react. If I were to challenge this kind of ‘joke’, I know the exact reaction I would receive ‘it was a joke. Can you not take a joke?’ It will be my sense of humour that will be judged and not their own. I’m sure the filthy word ‘feminist’ will be spat out also, probably as an insult. Which is fine also.  As I am not the one laughing at the prospect of a high rate of female students enrolling in university to simply find a husband. What annoys me, is that imagine if Boris had said ‘oh these boys, all in university to find a wife’… which is not funny. No one is laughing at that statement. Imagine if a male comedian came up on stage and his first line was “Girls: At university to find a husband” I would hope he would be booed off stage, or at least, I would hope no one would laugh. But people are laughing. Because women are still the punchline of the joke. Or should I say the punchline of an excruciatingly painful sexist comment, disguised under the premise of a joke. And people like Boris are still in positions of power, making these ‘jokes’.






The life and times of Timmy the fish

On my first day at university, I was nervous, I wanted people to like me, and be my friend. So I don’t know why, but I told them the story of Timmy the fish. I think they laughed. I’m not sure if it was out of pity or politeness. But they laughed. So here is the story of Timmy the fish.



Timmy was a gold fish that my grandparents had bought to occupy my young cousins when they came to stay. He was simply an innocent gold fish. He had no beef with any other fish. He was the only fish around these parts. He had a happy life. He swam all day, and was fed regularly. He was a hit. The best gold fish in this town. We all enjoyed Timmy’s company. So much so, that my Gran and Papa decided to get more fish. So Timmy could have more friends. So Timmy would not be so alone.


Shit was about to hit the metaphorical fan.

Timmy was not at all pleased with his new ‘pals’ (if you could call them that. Pfft, stupid new fish, they think they’re the best- but they are actually the worst, they’re not even gold fish. They are probably silver fish. The second class citizens of the fish world).

After a few days, the new fish started to disappear. My grandparents could simply not work out why. They hadn’t died. There was no trace of these new fish. Where had the new fish gone?!

Strangely, around this time, Timmy started to get beefier. No one wanted to confront Timmy. Who are we to judge? Maybe he’d been hitting the gym? Maybe he’d been doing a few more lengths of the tank. Get off his back.

However, the next week, all of the new fish had disappeared. No bodies were found. The situation was fishy. Timmy was looking shifty. I could see it, he was cracking under pressure of accusations from my Gran and Papa. “We think Timmy ate the new fish, He’s got massive, and we can’t find the other fish” Timmy had been found out. Timmy had grown around 3 times his normal size. Maybe he was bloated, maybe he had too much fish food that day… or maybe, just maybe he had eaten all the fish.

After the disappearance of the new fish, Timmy was kept upstairs. Apparently he scared my little cousins. He lived a lonely and desolate life after this. My uncle gave him to someone from work. He warned them, that Timmy was “mental”, he was not your average gold fish. I assumed, his new owner shrugged this off, but he doesn’t know the awful things that Timmy was accused of.

Did Timmy eat all the new fish? I don’t know. And I guess we’ll never know. Because gold fish can’t talk, so he will never be able to answer my questions. I guess some things are best left unknown. But he was a good fish. A kind fish. He was Timmy. He will never be replaced.



There is one piece of knowledge that in my life and throughout humanity will remain true and everlasting.

I don’t know much about this world. There is nothing that I, Hannah Birt, am willing to vouch as fact… apart from this one piece of knowledge.

Since the dawn of time, there has been one constant truth that man and woman have agreed on.





You may carry on with your evening. I hope I have imparted some crucial knowledge on to your mundane life existence.


Abercrombie and Fitch, why none of us should give a fuck

Last week some guy (Mike Jeffries) who owns A&F said he didn’t want fatties wearing his brand of clothing. He was like “urgh no way, I don’t want your fat being squeezed into my skinny clothes, there’s some bin bags over there, try them on for size” (he didn’t say that, but I reckon that’s what he was thinking)

Ok, well in my head all I can think is, I bet this guy is a Slytherin. I bet he loves Voldemort. (My next thought is, I bet he doesn’t even read Harry Potter… what a cock)

At this point, I should perhaps admit something. There is no way I’d fit in to an Ambercrombie and Fitch Tshirt. I doubt one of my thighs would squeeze in to a pair of their shorts, there is no thigh gap between my legs, in fact for all fashion cared my legs could just be one big thigh (so I guess a bit like a mermaid? Ariel was giving no fucks when it came to thigh gaps). So maybe I’m taking this all a bit personally?

But who told the CEO of Abercrombie and Fitch that I gave a fuck?

Why did he assume that we (fatties) would be crying over an XS tshirt in the changing rooms because some areshole who has a lot of money (and probably doesn’t read Harry Potter) told a bunch of fat teenagers he’s glad we can’t fit in to his overpriced apparel.

Because even if I was a size 4, I’m not a cool kid, I don’t fit in with his desired brand.

For example, I’m writing a blog at 3pm. Not at the beach chasing a boy and trapping him between my thigh gap.

I have a massive poster of Dobby the house elf on my wall. Not a half-naked guy beckoning my low self-esteem with his oily abs.

The next point I would like to make, is Mike Jeffries is losing a lot of business. In 2007, 74.1% of America’s population was overweight. If anything he should ditch this, and start an overweight range, like bibs so that we can catch every morsel of food that we can fit in to our fat bodies. But I guess he didn’t think of that. Now every Mcdonalds in America, will have a wanted poster for “crimes against fatties”.

So to conclude, Mike if you’re reading this, I don’t give much of a fuck. I will never buy your clothes (mainly because they don’t fit and also because you are a voldemort lover) and I hope the image my body in a size 4 t-shirt gives you nightmares.


Kate Middleton loves flowers.

Kate Middleton Is literally the best British thing ever. She comes second to Harry Potter. Or maybe third to Harry Potter and The beatles. Or maybe fourth to Harry Potter, the Beatles, and the 2012 London Olympics. BUT, either way, she’s probably in the top 10 British Exports. Probably. 

Why is she in the top 10? Well Because, she’s a Duchess, Because her hair is amazing, because she looks impeccable in literally everything, she’s rocking the whole pregnancy thing, and in general just seems to be a wonderful human being. 

So no wonder, when British people meet K-Mids they want to express their feelings of gratitude upon her. Do they give her money? No, K-mids doesn’t need money. Do they give her gifts? No, technically K-Mids can’t accept Free commercial stuff. 

No, the British public give the Duchess of Cambridge Flowers. Which is nice, a lovely gesture. But she must be bored of the constant flowers? 

I reckon this is what Kate Middleton is thinking as she receives said flowers. 




Cute little girl, nice flowers. I’m a duchess. Life is sweet. 


Aw, you guys! Flowers? You shouldn’t have. 



Yep. Flowers again. Thanks. I’ll put these in a vase when I get back. I can probably find room, Because I am a duchess… and I live in a freaking Palace (yeah, K-mids sometimes sounds like she’s in a american teen movie. Deal with it) 

From one princess to another. Cute outfit. I also love the flowers. Just what I needed. 







(all pictures sources from google images)