Hello, Here Are Opinions No One Asked For

So, here I stand upon the proverbial internet roof and yell my presence to anyone who may listen. It’s difficult to write a sufficiently engaging introductory post without it feeling a lot like an AA meeting so I think I will follow that format, for now. Let’s get into an uncomfortably stare-y circle and make horrible eye contact as we get to know each other.

Hi, my name is Megan, and I am an Internet Narcissist with a chronic case of Word Vomit.

Hopefully your little reading voice chimed back a half enthusiastic, “Hey Megan!” – if it didn’t, you are clearly unversed in AA meeting etiquette and I invite you to reread my name introduction until your reading voice has gotten some manners.

Yes, I am an Internet Narcissist in many regards. I post often about everything and anything so thereby it is only right that I complete the transfiguration; from a lowly female with lots of internet opinions, to an Impressively Knowing and Intellectual Blogger. I didn’t choose this lifestyle – it chose me (after I sat and fiddled with buttons and menus until I made the ugliest home page possible, gave myself an @ name, and hurriedly told my friends to address me by said lifestyle title).

On this brand new, exciting, shiny (and only SLIGHTLY shite) blog, I’m going to talk about a multitude of topics: from my own personal experience as a student living on Rustler’s burgers, dirty looks from my disgusted peers and pints; to pop culture and politics; and other miscellaneous subject matters I just generally think I should spew word vomit on.

No: no one asked for my opinion, but when has that stopped me before? I hope it’s slightly amusing for anyone who peaks on it and I’m sorry in advance for being a grumpy guts.





Piece of Poop Poetry: Decluttering The Attic

Piece of Poop Poetry is back, and as indulgent as ever.

Tonight, I challenged myself to have a go at writing some poetry that wasn’t born out of feeling sorry for myself. What does one write about when they’re genuinely rather happy?

I find that writing comes easier to me when I have something to gurn about (spot the obvious water sign) – so here is my 20 minute scribble adventure!

I hope you’re well. Truly.

Decluttering The Attic

Picking through yesterdays deftly

and cementing significance to selected nostalgias

– or lack of. Tossing aside relics of a familiar yet bygone age

into the “go” pile.

Moments passing through my fingertips

like I was flicking through a glossy magazine.

What once felt like treasure morphs into triviality before my eyes.

Yet I don’t mourn this metamorphosis:

instead, I bask in the space created in lieu of clutter.

I once worried this house would feel empty without the cobwebs.

That sounds really ridiculous, but it’s true.

My cobwebs framed the edges for so long that they became fixtures

– morose feather boas for my blank walls.

They were familiar.

But blank walls are spaces for hanging paintings.

I see that now

and that excites me.

Out with the old and in with the new;

This change of heart’s been long overdue.

Meg’s List Of Spooky Films You Might Have To Change Your Pants After Watching

So, it’s finally the creepiest week of the year. The time has come to whip out the jar of sweets for *the Trick or Treaters (*for you to eat whilst half cut in just your pants and a Scream mask), cosy down, and flick on some freaky flicks.


If you’re scrolling through Netflix and drawing a blank, have no fear: daddy Moog has some suggestions. Here you will find a selection of top spooky flicks for your different moods.

I’ve steered away from the obvious options like Halloween, Friday the 13th, and Nightmare on Elm Street – which is not a slander of their quality in the slightest! Definitely give a peep if you haven’t seen them. I just wanted to shed some light on some films you may have overlooked in the past.

Without further ado, here is a list of films you might have to change your pants after watching.

The International Spook:

Martyrs (2008)

If you aren’t too white girl wasted and feel like you could still follow subtitles, I really suggest you check out Martyrs.

A French horror film, Martyrs explores the extent of which human beings may withstand torment, all in the name of religious enlightenment. This format leaves suitable leeway for the film to be brutally violent and distressing.


A film of two clear parts, Martyrs explores the paranormal, psychological and body horror you may just be craving this gruesome Halloween.

Side note: do not watch the American remake, it is actually pants.

Pee Inducing Paranormal:

Ghost Stories (2017)

I went into viewing this movie a sceptic, and left extremely pleasantly surprised by this new flick in so many regards.

A storyline that is fully comprehensive, avoiding convoluted plot lines to create twists; gorgeous use of sets and lighting; an incredible use of sound. It is very evident that Ghost Stories started life as a stage show as every scene is filled to the brim with detail.

The cast were fantastic, heightening each tense moment, culminating in one of the most distressing endings in a modern horror film that I have seen in a long, long time.

The less you know about the plot, the better. Go in completely fresh. Do not let the title of the film fool you- this is not your average ghost flick.

Gruesome Giggles:

The Return of the Living Dead (1985)

If you’re more in the mood for a lighthearted romp than a balls to the wall fright fest, I definitely suggest The Return of the Living Dead.

A contender for the most 80’s looking film I’ve seen, The Return of the Living Dead is the perfect marriage of annoying teenagers with juicy brains to lots and LOTS of zombies. Set in a graveyard. It’s class.

Lots of tongue in cheek humour, lots of cool looking zombies, and easy to pop on in the background with your mates over.

Blood Suckin’ Blockbusters:

Salem’s Lot (1979)

I have a real soft spot for this film because it’s one of my dad’s favourites.

Based on the book by Stephen King, Salem’s Lot explores a sleepy town with a spooky vampire problem. Complete with horrible floaty dickhead children and a massive scary vampire going by The Master, it’s a classic for fans of those with fangs.

Cannibals Eating People Like Candy:

– Green Inferno (2013)

This film is so gross. If you’re in the market for a cannibal film though, I think that’s exactly what you’re looking for.

A group of young people go into a jungle to protest against deforestation. Group of young people get spotted by tribe of cannibals. Group of young people get slowly picked off by cannibals in various horrible ways.

If you look past the obvious racism in the contents of the film, and see it as a homage to cinematic classics like Cannibal Holocaust, Green Inferno makes for very uncomfortable viewing. Great for Halloween – but not one to view whilst you’re eating.

High School Horrors:

Excision (2012)

Following the misadventures of a college outcast with psychosexual delusions and aspirations of becoming a surgeon, Excision is a very unique film.

Although technically not a horror film, Excision features many gruesome dream sequences and upsetting scenes. Deeply thought provoking and darkly funny at times, it is certainly worth a viewing. Definitely a film that sticks with you long after the screen goes black.

The One To Watch Before The Remake:

Suspiria (1977)

Suspiria is one of the best horror films around and I am extremely excited to watch the remake. However, it would break my heart for that to be your first exposure to the first of a horrible trilogy. The original is a masterpiece.

Set amidst a dance school, Suspiria chronicles a series of grizzly murders which slowly reveal to be supernatural in nature. Dario Argento’s signature of mixing bloody murder with high art results in set pieces of horrifying beauty.

The soundtrack also slaps and will give you goosebumps.

This Is Just Horrible Turn It Off:

Guinea Pig: Flower Of Flesh And Blood (1985)


So those of you who know, know.

Flower of Flesh And Blood is one of several films in the Japanese Guinea Pig series, which grew in notoriety in the years due to its extreme violence.

The use of practical effects within the one hour film is outstanding, yet serves no other purpose than to revolt.

The storyline is very simple: a samurai slowly cuts up a woman whilst she’s still alive. That’s it. That’s literally the plot. There is barely any dialogue in there, if at all.

It’s a fake snuff film convincing enough that Charlie Sheen thought it was real and actually contacted the police on viewing.

So aye, that’s definitely a film to look at if you have absolutely nothing else you want to be at. It’s just really gross and the noises are horrible.

There’s also an American remake, going by Bouquet of Guts and Gore which may satiate any of you weird enough to want more of lady dissection (good news: there’s two people to carve up rather than one).

There you have it, there’s a quick little list of films that may tickle your fancy! I hope it’s of some use to you.

Have a fantastic Halloween, my lovely freaky friends!

Piece of Poop Poetry: Trees My Crowd

Happy October and happy kaleidoscope season! I hope you’re all doing very well. Here’s a quick scribbled down piece of poop poetry- it’s been a minute.

After being pretty stressed out and blue the past few weeks, I’ve finally shaken myself out of a stinky rut. It feels really good to be creative again; even if it’s not the most polished thing to read.

If you’re in a bit of a poor mindset, just get making.


Keep your brain ticking over and know that I hope you have the best possible week.

Trees My Crowd

I wonder if the trees mourn the colourful death of their leaves.

Do winter nights feel colder?

Do the branches reach restlessly into the dark

Twitching along to the breath of the wind

Longing for the familiar touch of summer?

Does the bark of the oak grow thicker over time

Out of nature

Or is it out of necessity?

Little loves springing from buds full of promise

Only to fall.

It’s the way of the world

And it’s ok.

If the trees feel the sting

Surely that means spring

Has the capacity to bring

What was lost back to the earth

And air

And everything in between

Has a time and place to be.

If trees can try again with the same enthusiastic burst

So can everything else.

The oak might reach for lost leaves

But instead find perched

A blackbird full of bones and life

Eager to fill the lonely hours with song.

Trees might mourn but the morning will always fill the sky.

Piece of Poop Poetry: You Keep My Ink Pot Wet

Another post just before the tyranny of full time study returns to beat up my free time until it’s a quivering pile of ham.

Feeling personally victimised by the end of summer yet extremely excited to get back into some sort of routine.

SO. This piece of poop poetry was scribbled down hastily after listening to a lot of soundcloud mumble rappers and drinking a lot of Tesco Value ciders. Dabbling in some free form nonsense because I’m a lazy cow.

I hope you all are well and I hope you all have had a nice dinner tonight. X

You keep my ink pot wet

Sacrifice of my time

dreams and notions by your feet

so hungry eyes may feast on this.

Pens hold hands like they never would,


Should they?

Surely the chase is better than the fall?

The chase








a sickness in the stomach,

the confusion of the world turning upside down,

scraped knees and palms that only a kiss would make better.

Dead leaves beautiful by the loveseat.

Tumbles leave marks and writers LOVE to pick the scab

leaving their welts open until they can pretend they’re battle scars:

vulnerability feeds the vultures.

And my tired eyes are drying up

– at least you keep my ink pot wet.

10 Things That Made Me Pee A Bit In Pure Terror When I Was A Kid Playing Non-Horror Games

After hungrily watching the teaser clips for The Dark Pictures Anthology: Man of Medan, I’ve been daydreaming idly about my favourite moments in horror gaming.

Everyone remembers their first experience with horror gaming; the first horror game that gave me proper nightmares was Project Zero (I could not walk up my stairs in the dark until I was about 14 years old).

Yet, I got to thinking of other moments of gaming that shot the shiveries up my spine. Many of the scariest bits that spring to mind exist in otherwise un-spooky games. Easing me into a state of trust and sheer joyful delirium, these moments would then spring out at me and leave me yelling for my dad to get past it so I didn’t have to look at it anymore.

Here is a little list of things that scared me in non horror games.

*Disclaimer: just because it made me brown my breeches doesn’t mean it will make you brown yours, this is simply my wee opinion*

1) Accidentally Drowning (Sonic Adventure 2)

Anyone familiar with the Sonic franchise at all will know just how anxiety inducing the watery demise of our favourite sneakered hedgehog was.

Although the harrowing animation of Sonic slowly losing consciousness and meeting a soggy grave was disturbing, it was not the worst part.


Pounding music quickening in tempo soundtracks our hero’s slow death as you, the player, murder him aquatically. The music is so unsettling and panic inducing that I would pause the game indefinitely, suspending Sonic in a sort of cyber limbo.

Horrible. Still hate it.

2) Any Slightly Spooky Enemy (The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time)

Look, I just wanted to toot some woodwind and ride my horse. I had no time for battling any demonic entity swinging for me.


Honourable mention also to The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask and it’s fucking TERRIFYING MOON.

3) Big Bitey Piano (Mario 64)

Mario really dicked me over by becoming a human sandwich to a teethy piano.

An otherwise colourful romp through paintings and cute worlds, Mario 64 was very fun. However, when traversing Boo’s Castle, things got a bit scary fart time.

This jumpscare was so scary it made me cry. It didn’t stop being scary until I ran out of the in game room, to silence the chomping mandibles of a piano. Sounds stupid but it was really really scary.

4) Massive Monkey Man (Starfox 64)

Big monkey bastard with decapitated head and hands floating through space.

Says it all.

5) Favourite Cow Dying (Harvest Moon: A Wonderful Life)

This was more of a subtle, nagging, psychological panic.

My first ever Harvest Moon cow became sick well into the game. No amount of medicine was curing her. It would appear that she was just getting old. Death was imminent.

So, like pausing Sonic as he drowns, I just stopped playing the game forever. Good luck claiming Daisy now, Grim Reaper.

Shout out to Viva Piñata for creating a similar situation when that floating ball bag came to bash my sweetie filled pets.

6) The Idea of the Kitten Dying if I Don’t Feed It Enough (Shenmue)

Everyone knows the best thing about Shenmue was collecting your money in the morning, visiting the kitten in the box and then spending the day at the in-game arcade.

The idea of the kitten perishing became an all consuming fear for me. To lose the kitten was to lose a third of my gaming exploits in Shenmue.

I never did avenge my father, but I did feed that kitten LOADS.

7) Weird Bird Boss (Dead Or Alive)

I hate his sandals and feet.

8) Munch’s Family and Pals Getting Taken (Oddworld: Abe’s Oddysee)

If you’ve played this game, and the words “Where did everybody go?” don’t break your heart…

Having developed a deep love for Munch on the get go, to discover his mates have been stolen and he’s alone is so upsetting and scary. Waiting for the Glukkons to harvests my mates and my ma was pure nightmare fuel.

9) Dying At The End Of Every Day (Doshin The Giant)

In hindsight, Doshin The Giant was an incredibly cruel game.

Once every generation, a big giant (you) comes out of the ocean and helps (or hinders) the community on a little island.

This is nice and all, but at the end of every visitation, the giant slowly begins to stop moving. And seems to die.

As a very sensitive Cancerian child this really bothered me and made me stop playing the game prematurely every visitation so as to keep Doshin alive and kicking, much to the chagrin of my little islanders who couldn’t build better settlements because of this.

10) Your Dad Dying And Your Mum Screaming At You All The Time (Elite Beat Agents)

This. Bit.

Okay so.

For those who don’t know, Elite Beat Agents is a music game for DS, which relies on you hitting the beats of the song to make your agents dance to the rhythm and ultimately solve the issue at hand.

The issues varied from helping a man fight off a flu, to helping actors act in a film, to preventing alien invasion. All pretty silly, harmless fun, right?


One song in particular tugged at the heartstrings so badly that it left me close to traumatised.

Tapping along to ‘The Inspiration’, the agents are meant to be helping a little girl come to terms with the passing of her father.

Her mum is devastated. The girl is devastated.

She bakes her dad a birthday cake and everything.

This would make even the most robotic gamer cry. Yet to do so would be a mistake because then you can’t see the beats and the scenes play out the bad ending for your poor performance.

The mum will scream at the little girl her dad is never coming back, the girl will cry herself to sleep.

It’s also Christmas.

What. The. Fuck.

That’s my little list- of course emissions had to be made to fit it neatly into an even number. What childhood games elicited screams of horror from you?

There must be one. Don’t act hard.

Addressing Addiction

In light of the recent death of much loved artist, Mac Miller, social media has finally started to circulate a conversation regarding addiction.

It’s terrible that the death of a young person has spearheaded this dialogue. It’s so important that this subject is broached with care. Do not let Miller become a martyr for addiction: instead, we should understand that addiction is symptomatic of a much greater issue. Remember him as an artist, not just someone who was sick.

Drug consumption has became so normalised amongst our society, and yet, paradoxically, became more taboo. A certain type of recreational drug use is now becoming socially acceptable: a few keys at the weekend is almost as normal as a glass of wine. Through mainstream media we are exposed to ‘popping molly’ and the likes for a good time.

Yet, drug consumption on a regular basis outside of the ‘accepted’ amount is brandished dirty. Substance abuse outside of the ‘guideline amount’ is wrong. To make a habit out of it is to sail yourself down the creek without a paddle: you just don’t do it.

I for one am not here to preach about recreational drug use. As an adult, if you are educated on a substance’s effects physically and mentally upon your body, and still insist on taking it, that’s your prerogative. Yet I implore you to ask yourself: “WHY am I taking this”?

The simple answer is that drugs offer escapism. For many people, real life is a drag. Sobriety is boring. It’s something to do.

For so many other people, sobriety is painful. ‘Real’ life offers no respite. Drugs and alcohol do.

So, how can we as a society be surprised when there are people who would rather stay in a dangerously medicated state than endure sobriety? Why then, do we brandish people addicted to feeling numb to pain inflicted by deteriorating mental health or external issues, ‘junkies’? Why have addicts become the lepers of modern society when in many ways we have become complicit in their creation?

Behind every addict is a story. No one wakes up and decides that they want to become ostracised from their friends and family. Substances are being used to fill a void created within individuals- devoid of hope, they choose to medicate themselves with poison.

Addiction is a lonely path. And a poisonous one. Without help, it is a slow suicide. It’s absurd to believe that addiction and mental health issues are not codependent upon each other. So why don’t we treat it with the same tact as we are beginning to address mental health afflictions, when addiction is symptomatic of a further illness?

Like ink in water, the grip of addiction spreads outside of just the person afflicted, but to the ones that love them, too. Watching someone you care about become encompassed by substance abuse is incredibly painful.

This is where Mac Miller’s untimely death serves as a case study for this. As we all have read, Arianna Grande has received countless messages and comments accusing her to be complicit in Miller’s deterioration after leaving a relationship with him.

However, it is forgotten that she maintained a supportive relationship with Miller: openly supporting his sobriety on a platonic level.

This pattern of blame is not only applicable to this case:

this happens all the time.

The blaming of an ex partner for the deterioration of an addict’s health or state solves nothing, as it does not help the matter at hand. Women are not the core of the issue. Mishandling mental health issues IS. Discussing mental ailments is more helpful than pointing the finger at an already distraught, innocent partner.

It is incredibly poisonous to believe that it is the job of a significant other to ‘cure’ an addict. Placing that burden upon another is unfair and potentially damaging. Instead, we should support those who require help with tackling addiction. Pushing your friend, family member, or partner towards acknowledging there is an issue that needs rectified is the best thing possible.

Let them know they’re appreciated, and not less of a person for being in the grips of substance abuse. Encourage dialogue to discuss the issue, and pursue professional help for the addiction as well as the mental health issues lurking beneath. Exercise understanding and patience.

The best means of tackling addiction is prevention. Always get help if you don’t feel yourself.

You are never alone!

For a comprehensive list of contacts for tackling addiction, This Morning did a great piece on their website. Here is the full link, and a few screenshots if that would be helpful. Stay safe everybody.

Too many young people have died because of this. Let’s treat it with the same urgency and care as any other epidemic.


Piece of Poop Poetry: Sacrilegious Romantic Ramblings

It’s been a minute since your last dose of narcissistic mouth diarrhoea: so hold your nose and swallow it down.

I hope you’ve all been well and eating all your greens. Have a lovely Sunday dinner and give someone a wee hug.

“It doesn’t even rhyme!” – Seamus Heaney.

Sacrilegious Romantic Ramblings

There has always been words floating around, rejoicing in love found and lost in equal measures.

Love eulogised still holds firm in hearts otherwise leaking empty,

and fills the brain with smoke:

pink, intoxicating, fluffy smoke which smothers the cold pavements under foot

with a promise of


There’s no smoke without fire and fire spreads fast in the city.

Concrete giants embraced in the cool grasp of night sky, encompassed in ultimately damaging heat.

Unfeeling yet yielding.


Pieces of one another melting into dry dust.

Love unrequited somehow stands as the most praise worthy of all.

The martyrs of love celebrated, writing of little deaths amounting to their demise.

Inkblotted hands from their pen, a stigmata.

Immortal would be’s breathed onto the page;


Love rises again.