Totes was born in 1972 in Huddersfield. The oldest of two girls. Her proud parents said that she was a beautiful happy baby who grew into a very clever child. Her teachers thought her a child genius such was her talent for writing and illustrating books. There was one bitch that didn’t like her, Mrs Smith was a bitter and twisted old woman who was jealous of the beautiful talented child.
Totes was as blind as a bat and had to wear glasses which cramped her style somewhat. There was a slightly overweight awkward stage that lasted for some time.
As she grew up, she mastered many new talents. She excelled at being a brownie and became a Sixer despite Brown Owl being a cantankerous old cow who would have better being named Old Grey crow.
The 1970s and 80s were a great time to be a child and Totes spent many a happy afternoon setting fire to local woodland and making dens out of a clothes maiden and blanket. Totes happily recalls an incident in which her younger sister jumped in a pond and nearly drowned just to get her into trouble with her parents. Her sister recalls the incident with relish. There was lots of sledging and other such frolics. In summer there was British Bulldog and laughing at the local paedophiles in the park.
As Totes grew into a teenager she lost a bit of weight and her beauty increased. She became increasingly irresistible to all the boys in her school. That’s the story she tells anyway. The rumours of her being a bit of a slag were preposterous. It is normal for a girl to experiment a little. Totes probably did shag nearly all the boys in her school and she lives content in the knowledge that she helped a lot of boys lose their cumbersome virginity. Slag no – Totes likes to think of herself more as a facilitator or just a nice person that didn’t have too many morals.
Totes, her mother Juju and her sister Rachael could regularly be found having a fag in a bedroom at the back of the house, burning joss sticks (to hide the smell of the fags) whilst listening to The The and Echo and The Bunnymen whilst bleaching Totes’s hair. Even at this early stage in her life Totes was quite the fashion forward darling that she is now. Unfortunately her blond cropped hair fell out due to over bleaching so she had to wear a hat for quite some time.
Totes’s teenage years were spent in a mist of Diamond White, snogging, well pretty much anybody really. Gay, straight, brown or white, cool or uncool and good looking or fair to average. Somewhere along the line she fucked up her GCSEs. The truth is – she was robbed. It was the second year of GCSEs and everything was down graded. After fucking up her GCSEs she set about fucking up her A levels. She did a simply marvellous job of this. Throughout she worked in the families sweet/wine shop. You could say she worked but the truth is more that she robbed her family blind of midget gems, fags and booze.
Totes was a popular girl in her formative years apart from with the people who didn’t like her. These people obviously had no taste and dubious fashion sense. Her mother Juju recalls a story when a gang of horrible girls followed her daughter home taunting her for her outlandish but directional fashion forwardness. Totes may have mentioned that perhaps they were a little common in a haughty manner. This must have struck a chord with the girls as they became enraged and bayed for blood like a pack of vicious animals. Totes escaped somehow unscathed and her mother Juju breathed a sigh of relief as she watched from the window. Totes also once had a stone thrown at her head and regularly had chewed up paper thrown at her in maths lessons. The girls who did this all ended up in prison as they were bad through and through.
After school there was a stint in art college. Totes was an exceptionally talented painter but somehow failed to secure a university place in Fine Art. Obviously the twats that interviewed her were jealous of her talent and refused her a place at their smelly and useless university. It is said that Hitler was an aspiring painter and was thwarted by lecturers who said he lacked talent. Hitler chose evil to overcome his feelings of bitterness about this whilst Totes pissed off to live with her friends in the northern town of Preston. Here she rid herself of her feelings of persecution by going out clubbing and taking shed loads of Recreational drugs.
Preston was home for 3 years. Totes enrolled on a course at the university but somehow fucked this up as well. She lived it up with her friends in a smelly terraced house, going out all weekend clubbing and then sometimes working in the week. Over the years Totes has been sacked from many a bar job but during this time she also worked at Marks and Spencer’s and Etam. Many an hour was spent on the changing room door at Etam with pupils as large as saucers talking shit to poor unsuspecting shoppers.
Totes’s friends were a lovely bunch, both clever and cunning. A new society was formed at the University. It’s name was The House Music Society. Having a Society meant that the University mini buses could be harnessed to take the Society members to clubs all over the North of England.
They also hosted club nights at the student union where they would book very expensive and famous DJs to play. The student union would invariably lose money in these events as Totes and her friends weren’t actually experienced promoters, just enthusiastic little shits who fancied themselves as big time Charlie Potato Heads. Totes was very proud that it was her idea to name the night “Mucky”. Mucky was a word that when said in Totes’s Yorkshire accent made all the southerners laugh. The people at the student union didn’t laugh when they lost money after paying Farley Jackmaster Funk to play to 120 people. They suggested that they needed 500 people in attendance to break even.
Totes did get into an awful lot of scrapes around this time. There was an incident of being surrounded by three police cars which was probably her fault. Luckily she talked her way out of that one. She always seemed to get chased around the office above a club by some older guy in a scene reminiscent of A Benny Hill sketch as she wore quite provocative clothing – lots of rubber and so on.
Totes liked to take Sweep out clubbing (Sweep of Sooty and Sweep fame). Sweep also managed to get in a lot of scrapes and had some very wild nights out. He once danced the night away off his tits on E’s with a mildly famous person who had a number one in the days when number ones meant something.
Totes was very talented at clubbing. She felt that she always gave it her all. Clubs were enhanced by her brilliant dancing, beauty, and all round snogging of pretty much anybody. Clubs need people like Totes.
After Preston, all Totes’s chums moved to London. London is a bit big and scary and Totes doesn’t like the Tube so she opted for Manchester. Manchester was a tough gig for a while as the stupid boy that she had moved there to be with decided that Totes wasn’t for him. His friends were a bit sniffy and unkind especially one nasty cow who had it in for Totes and so somehow she ended up living in a squalid shit hole where she had a room, shared use of a bathroom for six people and shared use of a kitchen. Totes cried a lot but she dusted herself down and went out clubbing a lot as she was spectacularly talented at this as previously mentioned.
A series of hilarious jobs followed. She worked at directory enquiries but got sacked as she talked too much to the people that phoned to ask for telephone numbers. “It’s good to talk” was BTs strap line at the time but it didn’t seem to follow at the coal face in directory enquiries. Her own imaginative phonetic alphabet was very much frowned upon. Her manager particularly disliked “B for Beaver” and “T for Toss”. Another Job selling mobile phones, the size of bricks followed but then she became an Estate Agent. Estate Agent might be too grand a job title for what she did but essentially that’s it.
Totes sat in an office where one could smoke on Oldham street in Manchester. She took her role very seriously especially the smoking and was rarely seen without a silk cut hanging out of her gob. She was tasked with selling loft apartments in a former department store. She was an absolute fuck up but so were most of the people that bought the lofts so it worked well. At the weekend she would be on her own in the office selling the properties and she got up to all sorts of mischief. Working on a Sunday after she had spent the night dancing in the village was not for the faint hearted but somehow she got through. Totes invented new rules for Sunday’s. It was preposterous that she was expected to work until 6.00 so she ran the last two hours of her shift from Dry Bar from where she could see the door to her office. Very occasionally people did arrive after 4.00 and so Totes would put her pint down and go to greet them.
Unfortunately although this job was brilliant, it came to an end. Totes wasn’t very good at working in the proper estate agents office with the computers and shit on Deansgate. A couple of the people who worked there were lovely delightful people. The rest were a bunch of bitches.
Totes got a new job. This is very significant as this is where she met Dangerous. Dangerous is a fucking lucky man. For some reason Totes saw something in him. Fuck knows what it was as he has no dress sense and is unlike anybody that she has ever gone for before. There may have been a slight overlap between her old boyfriend and Dangerous but nobody’s perfect.
The love story started at the Christmas do. Dangerous had recently been employed as Totes’s manager. Totes didn’t know until afterwards but it was always going to happen. She employed cheap tricks and set about getting him absolutely fucking wasted. Totes is particularly talented at getting people off their tits and so what happened, Dangerous didn’t really have any say in. She turned up on his doorstep three weeks later with her bags and a smile but quite unannounced and told him that it was his lucky day and she’d come to live with him. What a lucky bastard he was and still is.
Eight years later Totes thinks that it’s about time she got with child as she’s getting on a bit. Out pops baby Bella. Baby Bella is perfect and beautiful and so Totes thinks “Aaaahhhh we need a sibling for our beautiful child. Out pops Oscar (although Totes wanted to call him Hugo). Oscar is also perfect and beautiful and so Totes and Dangerous get pissed the next Christmas and out pops Ted quite unexpectedly. Totes sends Dangerous to have his manhood surrendered even though he wants more little shits as he hasn’t got to force them out of his fanny.
Having three little shits is a bit harder than Totes ha envisioned. Totes read lots of books on how to cope which sends her a bit potty.
A new chapter is opened when Totes and family move to Totes Towers in Timperley. This is unfortunate for the other residents as they are noisy, messy and generally lower the tone. House prices on the upmarket development tumble when a series of smelly and dirty down market cars are parked in the car park. The residents association were up in arms. They had presumed that the scroaty family were renting and are fucking horrified to find out that they’ve bought.
Totes goes through the infant years stoically, ramming people out of the way with her fuck off massive three wheeler pram. Shouting obscenities at inanimate objects and generally being a mental bitch. She deals as everybody does with shit, puke and sleepless nights as she is sure that someday soon things will get easier. Eventually she realises, as everybody fucker does that it never gets any easier. The problems just change and you get used to no sleep. At this point Totes sees her true potential as a parenting guru.
Fast forward and we are almost up to date.
Totes starts writing a blog. It’s a bit shit but as with everything, she is enthusiastic and determined. The blog does well because she is honest about shit. She never really considered that lots of other people aren’t as honest as she is. With the blog comes great things, people write lovely heartfelt messages to her but some people write poisonous shit too.
The blog is mainly truthful with occasionally sojourns into the absurd. Totes alter ego is Alison but where does one stop and the other one start? Fucked if I know…
Totes is a 44 year old mother of three little shits whom she loves immensely. She is married to Dangerous who is an absolute arsehole but whom she also loves. She works as an estate agent for an upmarket city centre estate agent. She is shit at paperwork and detail but loves talking to people. She is a total spendthrift and fashion forward bitch. She loves a bargain and loves telling people where to find them. She is greedy in every way. She occasionally detests but mainly loves running. She loves the friends that she has made by doing it and occasionally wonders if she should just chuck it all in and become an Olympic athlete. Totes is shallow and vain, unbelievably short tempered and grumpy but sometimes patient and generous. She loves talking shit to the other mums at school drop off. She has been on the happy pills for 18 months as she cleaned too much and got too cross with everybody but the tablets made her feel nothing so now she feels too much. Totes likes wine and gin. Totes loves dancing. Totes loves her mum Juju and her sister Amber who used to be called Rachael. She is a bit tubby, a bit deaf and as blind as a bat. She has a scar where she had her thyroid cut out. She has odd tits, thread veins and a mole that sprouts a thick dark hair out of it. Despite all this she knows she’s got pretty eyes. You see, she’s a bit of a fuckwit but at least she know it. Oooooooh and her shit definitely stinks as she’s got IBS.
Totes is a parenting guru, running advocate and all round fashion forward bitch. She definitely deserves her own TV programme or column in a national newspaper. Basically she knows that she should have a lot more money than she currently has and a lot more people should listen to her.
To get in touch with me or to find out about advertising opportunities on the site, please drop me a line below: