Sunday, June 1, 2014

Ultrasound May Boost Brain Performance

Ultrasound may improve sensory perception, according to a new study in humans.

By directing ultrasound to a specific brain area, researchers were able to improve people's ability to discriminate between sensory inputs. Ultrasound is sound far above the upper limit of what humans can hear. It's useful in medical imaging. Doctors and technicians send bursts of ultrasound through tissue and record the echoes, creating a picture of what's inside — whether it's an injured knee or a fetus in utero.

Ultrasound also has potential for mapping the connectivity of the brain. Neuroscientists are particularly interested in understanding how brain areas chat with one another; in fact, a new federal project, the BRAIN Initiative, has the goal of mapping the healthy human brain. [Inside the Brain: A Photo Journey Through Time]

Ultrasound is one of several noninvasive methods that stimulate the brain. Another is transcranial magnetic stimulation, which stimulates the brain with magnets. A third is transcranial direct current stimulation, which uses electrodes to deliver a weak electrical current to the brain through the scalp.

The new study suggests that ultrasound may be the best of the bunch.

"We can use ultrasound to target an area of the brain as small as the size of an M&M," study researcher William Tyler, a neuroscientist at the Virginia Tech Carilion Research Institute, said in a statement. "This finding represents a new way of noninvasively modulating human brain activity with a better spatial resolution than anything currently available."

Surprising improvement

Tyler and his colleagues focused on sensory perception from the hand. They first placed an electrode on the wrist, over the nerve that carries impulses from the hand to the brain. Using a small electrical current, they stimulated that nerve while focusing ultrasound on the brain region that processes the nerve's signals.

The researchers recorded the participants' brain responses with electroencephalography (EEG), electrodes on the scalp that measure the electrical activity of the brain. The ultrasound weakened the brain waves that encode the tactile stimulation, they found.

But the next set of experiments revealed something truly strange.

The researchers conducted two tests of sensory perception. In the first, participants feel two pins against their skin and must distinguish whether they are being touched at one or two points. The closer the pins are to each other, the harder the task. In the second, researchers blow a series of air puffs against the participants' skin, and they must determine how many individual puffs they feel. The faster the puffs, the harder they are to discriminate.

Instead of these weak brain signals translating to poorer sensory perception, people's performance actually improved on both tests.

"Our observations surprised us," Tyler said. "Even though the brain waves associated with the tactile stimulation had weakened, people actually got better at detecting differences in sensations."

Tweaking the brain

What might explain this seeming paradox? The answer might have to do with how neurons function. When brain cells communicate, they can urge their neighbors to become active (excitation) or tell everyone to quiet down (inhibition). The ultrasound may have affected the brain region's balance of excitation and inhibition, Tyler said.

As a result, the excitation impulses may not have spread so far, essentially giving the brain a better triangulation of where the sensory inputs were coming from.

The boost in sensory perception vanished when researchers moved the ultrasound's focus just a half inch (1 centimeter). That means the method is a fine-grained way to "tweak" brain circuits, both to map their activity and potentially to treat brain disorders.

"In neuroscience, it's easy to disrupt things," said Tyler. "We can distract you, make you feel numb, trick you with optical illusions. It's easy to make things worse, but it's hard to make them better. These findings make us believe we're on the right path."


Monday, April 21, 2014

Express Yourself Freely With Skill

All those who love singing can't always make time to take lessons. Sometimes it is a question of not finding a suitable teacher nearby. When you take singing lessons, you work on your natural talent. You want to be able to create a pure, high quality tone at your vocal cords and then balance the vocal resonance. Vocal tonality exercises develop your voice to sing with thick, rich vocal tone that melts in your mouth. You need to practice a few special exercises that will do these things automatically.

Vocal Tension Is Dangerous For Your Voice

The vocal strength exercises automatically even out and balance your resonance so your voice sounds balanced and pure at all volumes. When taking the higher notes you need to be wary that no tension is created in your vocal cords. The vocal chords simple buckle under pressure and vocal tension begins. However, when you learn to coordinate the tiny muscles in your vocal cords and strengthen them, you begin to increase your vocal power. When you can train under the kind of teacher whose methods help you develop a voice with an impressive vocal range, better tone quality than you can imagine, and more flexibility than most singers, you've got it made.

Learning to sing in your mixed voice and head voice is really the key to developing an impressive, wide singing range. When you listen closely to professional singers, you will probably notice things that never occurred to you before. Listen to the way they handle their breath, volume, articulation, control, vocal habits and resonance. When you sign up for singing lessons online, you actually opt for convenience and affordability. Pay close attention to the vocal exercises which are generally designed to help you expand your vocal range and improve your intonation.

Before starting on the vocal exercises which form the basics of the singing lessons, you learn the importance of opening of the mouth and carrying the voice outside. They may work with you to tackle challenging melodies, different note values and even different rhythmic patterns. With online singing lessons you can get programs developed by some of the top vocal coaches in the world that help professional singers and all for the price of a few lessons. There are singing lessons on the internet that can fit within your budget. Usually they are structured programs which deliver on their promise that you can increase one octave or more in your vocal range.

Saturday, April 5, 2014

The Illuminati and the NWO

Have you ever wondered why the world is so corrupt these days? We live in a time where one who speaks the truth is called a liar and one who lies and deceives is honoured and thought well of. Well, so many people out there will think this article is nothing but lies, but there is proof, that such evil in this world exists. This world is not a fairytale, but a nightmare. There, in the shadows of society lives a secret cult called the Illuminati.

Many years of ago, if I had written this, and this had been read worldwide, I would be assassinated. But now the Illuminati have controlled and brainwashed people To such a extent that people don't believe in such things, but allow themselves to be brainwashed and subjugated to the Illuminati's cruelty. I am not a person who would make up false information and feed it to the world. But I am someone with years of experience on this subject, and I wish to educate people and keep them aware.

The Illuminati can be traced back to the Knight Templars, these disturbed, manipulative people have lived a long time, planning on how to control the world, control our minds, and make the Anti-Christ appear more quickly. In this age of time, they control practically everything, media, education, news, the music and movie industry, and so much more. Through T.V. they feed us subliminal messages to brainwash our minds, trying to make us accept the New world order and lure us into the Anti-Christs trap. That is why it is important we educate ourselves about this, make ourselves aware about the Illuminati and their plans.

The Illuminati had preplanned most of the worlds disasters, such as the 9/11s, Boston marathon, the dissapearance of the Malaysia plane. They are behind all this. In 1995, U.S game designer Steve Jackson created a game called Illuminati cards. This card game had pictures of the 9/11, Boston Marathon bombings, Fukushima earthquake and so much more disasters that came true. This is too much of a coincidence to be false. Not everything is a coincidence, especially if it's repeated a dozen times. Such as, in cartoons and movies, the Illuminati symbols are repeatedly shown. Why would they do this for no reason?

In conclusion, I want to thank you for reading this article and I hope you learn more about this evil cult. Don't let them take over your mind, you are not their slave or puppet. For more information you can visit this website:

Sunday, March 30, 2014

The Wail Of The Siren

I sat in the corner of the room listening to Yetunde as she told her story. I was angry at what she had had to suffer and was infuriated that I and others around her have being unfair in our judgement of her. I am not one for emotions but tears rolled down my eyes as I listened to her pathetic story.

Yetunde was some girl I was intrigued by. She was a very pretty girl. She was always cheerful and had a smile for everyone. Though I didn't know that beneath that smile was a disturbed child. Yetunde was in her twenties. What attracted me to her was that she roamed the street as if she had no destination. I was very curious about her. Boys and men alike hung around her because of her beauty. I felt a need to advise her about what I perceived as her waywardness. She was also the topic of discussion for all the middle aged women in the neighbourhood. Though, these women greeted her and always seemed friendly, they were wary of her.

I met her at the salon. I came in to wash my hair. There were a lot of customers present and I was uncomfortable hanging around for my turn. I had contemplated leaving and coming back another time but I knew I may find it difficult to come back. As if she sensed my discomfort, Yetunde decided to allow me to take her place while she waited. I was surprised at her gesture and wanted to turn her down but she insisted. I felt grateful for this act and I expressed this to her. We started a conversation after this and long after the salon incident she would always stop to greet me. I was very fascinated with her and secretly wondered about her. One day, she saw me walking down the street and she approached me.

“Good evening Aunty” she greeted curtsying as she did.

“How are you?” I greeted back.

“I am fine.” She responded. I made to continue on my stroll when she held my hand. “Aunty, I hope you don’t mind. I want to see you” she said nervously. I stopped to look at her wondering why she wanted to see me.

”What is it about?” I asked still wondering.

“I need an advice” she replied.

“Ok then, let’s go to my house” I replied her. We walked the short distance to my house in silence. I kept on wondering if I was doing the right thing by taking someone I hardly knew to my house. We got to my place and I invited her in. She sat on the sofa while I sat on the single chair. I waited for her to tell me what the problem was.

“Aunty,” she said clearing her throat. I could see she was uncomfortable and I wondered again what she wanted.

I hope she didn’t want to beg for money. I thought to myself. I waited patiently though lots of thoughts were going on in my head.

“I need your advice, men always want to have sex with me.” She blurted out.

I kept a straight face since this was no news at all. She is a pretty girl and appeared unusually friendly with the opposite sex.

“The point is that I don’t how to refuse them. Sometimes, I would have told myself that I wouldn’t do it but I just find myself having sex with them.” I kept quiet pondering how I would manage this.

“I am helpless all the time. I don’t even enjoy sex.” She said.

“So why do you do it?” I asked puzzled.

“Aunty, I really don’t know.” She replied.

“Do they offer you money or buy stuff for you? Do you think that’s why you do it” I asked.

“I will never sell my body for anything” she responded harshly.

“Well, I am sorry if that sound offensive but I am just trying to find out why you find it difficult to refuse sex if you don’t enjoy it.” I replied taking aback by her response.

“I am sorry Aunty. It’s just that I am aware people call me a slut in the area and I don’t want you to see me that way” she replied. I was surprised that she was aware of how people perceived her. “Aunty, I am no slut. I really want to be a good girl but…”she said hesitant.

Her voice shook slightly and I could see tears in her eyes. She bent her head and tried to avoid looking at me. “I was raped at ten years old” she said barely audible.

“What?” I shouted.

“It was not my fault. I didn’t lure him into it. He would come into my bedroom and caress me. He promised to give me beautiful things. The first time he did it, it was painful and I tried to scream but he covered my mouth. After he finished, he told me not to tell my Aunty that he would buy chocolate for me. He did the following day but I knew what he was doing was wrong and I told him but he said he loved me. I didn’t want to do it I swear but he made me.” She said crying.

Her eyes looked wild and she was eager to convince me of her innocence. I was glued to my chair wondering who the “he” was.

“I tried telling my Aunty but she was too hostile, she would not listen to me. She said if she should catch me with her husband she would kill me. I wanted to tell her that he sneaked to my room but I was afraid as I had nowhere to go.” She continued crying.

I kept quiet not knowing what to say. I could see she was badly damaged.

“Shortly after, my Auntie’s brother-in-law started fondling me at night. I suspected he had seen his brother having sex with me. I tried to refuse him but he threatened to tell my Aunty. I suffered in silence because I had nowhere to go. When I was thirteen, I got pregnant. I didn’t know I was pregnant at that time. I thought I had malaria. My Aunty took me to the hospital where I was told I was pregnant. She beat me blue and black. She accused me of luring her husband into sleeping with me. She beat me until I fainted. I woke up the following day in the hospital. I was told I lost the pregnancy but I am sure she aborted it.” She said sobbing quietly

I sat there with tears rolling down my cheek listening to her story. I felt like reaching out to her but I was glued to my chair and really did not have any words of consolation for her.

“Yetunde,” I called out tentatively. “You need professional help. This is beyond me. You need to seek for professional help.”

“Where?” she asked still sobbing

“I believe you need a psychological evaluation. I believe what those two animals did to you have affected you.” She sat there sobbing. I got up and held her. This could have being my daughter. I said to myself.

Friday, March 21, 2014

The Wedding

It was Jessica and Stanley’s wedding. People all agreed: it was a good wedding to remember.

Jessica was very beautiful on that special day; many guests couldn’t take their eyes off her. Her spotless white wedding dress flew elegantly from her body to the ground like a waterfall of cream. People took a breath when she walked by with such a pleasant fragrance. A swallowtail butterfly was circling right above her brown hair.

“Look at you.” Her mother held her hands. “Just look at you!”

Jessica tried to force a smile, but her hands were icy cold and trembling. She finally uttered: “Mom, I…”

“What’s wrong?” Her mother asked in great concern.

Jessica looked into her eyes. “Nothing.” She shook her head.

Jessica’s father came along extending his arm to her. “It’s time now. Shall we?”

She bit her lip, reluctantly held her father’s arm. They walked together up the aisle.

The wedding music started playing. At the other end of the aisle stood Stanley. He was smiling. All the quests were smiling too.

The voice of the priest became muffled. Jessica had a hard time to concentrate. Suddenly Stanley said: “I do.” She held her breath and closed her eyes.

Now everybody was looking at her in great anticipation.

“I do.”

In the wedding reception, the photographer took some pictures of the newlywed couple. Stanley grinned to the camera, held Jessica into his arms, and pressed a kiss on her lips. People chuckled and sighed: “What a lovely couple.”

The band started the music. It was country music. “How do you like it?” Stanley asked. “It was nice,” Jessica forged a smile then looked away.

“Jess, I thought you wanted Josh Groban’s songs?” Jessica’s sister Linda asked.

“She doesn’t like Josh Groban, does she?” Stanley frowned.

“Are you kidding?” Linda scowled, “Jess loves Josh Groban. I love Josh Groban.”

“That’s ok, I really don’t mind.” Jessica said.

Linda was distracted, looking ahead: “Wait, is that Jason? What is he doing on the stage?”

Jessica was looking at Jason. Stanley shrugged. “He asked me if he could sing us a song, I figured it wouldn’t hurt. After all, he and Jess are such good friends. Right?”

“Jason singing? Really?”

“What?” Stanley smirked.

“Well, let’s just say he wasn’t the best singer last time I checked. Why don’t you sing to my sister? It’s your wedding.”

Stanley laughed. “Me singing? C’mon. And who would care anyway? Nobody’s paying attention.”

Jason stood quietly on the stage like a lonely shadow. The music started flowing from under the pianist’s fingers. Linda shook her head in disapproval: “What? Josh Groban!? Can he pull it off?” People continued their chats, some walked around to get drinks. Stanley started a conversation with one of the bridesmaids.

Only Jessica was gazing at Jason. He raised his head and looked at her; their eyes locked together.

Jason started singing:

Like the sound of silence calling,

I hear your voice and suddenly

I'm falling, lost in a dream.

Suddenly, the audience fell into dead silence. Everyone turned to the stage.

Like the echoes of our souls are meeting,

You say those words and my heart stops beating.

I wonder what it means.

What could it be that comes over me?

At times I can't move.

At times I can hardly breathe.

“Who is he?” Some asked. People slowly gathered around.

Tears came into Jessica’s eyes. She remembered the first time Jason sang this song to her. He was smiling then; his hazel eyes were glowing. It was right after she said those words to him that sent him to ecstasy.

When you say you love me

The world goes still, so still inside and

When you say you love me

For a moment, there's no one else alive

The girl next to Linda nudged her: “I didn’t know he can sing like this! Remember…” “Shh…” Linda stopped her, locked her eyes on the stage.

You're the one I've always thought of.

I don't know how, but I feel sheltered in your love.

You're where I belong.

And when you're with me if I close my eyes,

There are times I swear I feel like I can fly

For a moment in time.

Somewhere between the Heavens and Earth,

And frozen in time, oh when you say those words.

Images from the past flashed before Jessica’s eyes: Jason looked at her in admiration while she made a canary come to life on canvas; his mischievous smile when they were preparing a surprise party for a friend’s birthday together; they shared a sandwich together on a raining day; they performed a musical together, he played piano, she played flute; they walked in the falling snow together; the way he looked at her when he was listening to her…

And this journey that we're on.

How far we've come and I celebrate every moment…

When you say you love me

In that moment, I know why I'm alive

A teardrop fell. Jessica quickly wiped her face. She remembered the moment she left him standing on the street. He stood there motionless, his face distorted, his eyes darkened. She never turned back; she couldn’t bear to see him like that.

She clenched her trembling fists. The knuckles turned white.

The music paused. The world was so silent one could almost hear leaves fall.

Then came the coda:

When you say you love me.

Do you know how I love you?

For a while nobody moved. Then the audience burst into applause and cheers, people surrounded Jason, enthusiastically buried him with compliments and questions. “I’ve found myself a keeper,” Linda said.

Jason didn’t respond to anyone around him. He was looking at Jessica. “Awwh, look at what you did to our Jess; she’s in tears!” One of the bridesmaids said to Stanley while hugging her. “I’m fine,” Jessica said. “I didn’t do nothing,” Stanley joked.

Jason left.

“Didn’t I say this is the best wedding or what?” Stanley gave a toast, everyone laughed and said: “Cheers!”

And people all agreed: it was a good wedding to remember.

Monday, March 3, 2014

How to Choose a Party Dress

It’s sometimes a little difficult to choose a right party dress. But if you consider several essential factors, this problem will be solved.

After learning several rules, you will not have to face any problem with choosing your party dress. Have a look at these easy tricks and learn how to choose a party dress.

White Tie Party Dress

If you have to participate at a white tie party, it’s enough to have a look at your attire. Choose your favorite evening dress and pair it with a stylish jewelry. You may also wear a pair of gloves to look great at the white tie party. Go for a little makeup and apply French nail polish. Create simple hairstyles, such as delicate updos.

Black Tie Party Dress

If you are invited to a formal party, such as a black tie one, here is a great way to choose your dress. Stay away from long dresses and opt for separate items to get an elegant look for your black tie party. Clutch is the best option with your outfit. As for the jewelry, wear a pretty necklace, and chic earrings.

Black Tie Party for Men and Women

Men may substitute tuxedos for dark-shaded suits. Women may wear knee-length dresses for a black tie party. If you are more inclined to a short gown, consider that it should be too astounding.

Creative Black Tie Party

The good thing about the creative type of black tie party is that you don’t have to follow special rules. Choose hems at any length and wear stylish pants. A chic sweater will look great with a dress. Opt for a clutch and stay away from updo hairstyles.

Cocktail Party Dress

 If you are invited to a cocktail party, the short black gown is the perfect choice. This choice of the part dress gives you a great opportunity to wear shimmery makeup. You may apply glossy lipsticks on your lips. Braided or ponytail hairstyles will be great for the cocktail party.

Festive Dress

To choose a right festive dress, you should consider the importance of color. You may opt for glowy shoes and wear glittery clutches. You may also wear a cardigan for an astounding look.

Party Dress for Casual Chic

For Casual Chic you may try jeans in a dark shade. You may wear lightweight jackets and chic jumpsuits. Create your casual look by wearing hairstyles like at a job interview.

Create Casual Look

To choose an outfit for a casual look doesn’t mean that you should wear gym outfits. Capris and jeans may be a great option. Don’t care much about your makeup and hair. Just use mascara and apply gloss on your lips.

What to Choose if There is No Special Party?

If you are not going to a special party, you may choose your dress, taking into account the time. Wear casual outfits, if the party is before 5 o’clock. If the part is celebrated after 5, you had better create an elegant look. Consider also the place of the party.

We hope you found how to choose a party dress for any occasion.

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Telephone Banking

I rang my Bank this morning - for an account enquiry. I dialed with trepidation and I was hoping for some human contact. The machine voice asked me to press ‘one’ for English. Then the # button. I was then instructed to input my sixteen-digit account number. Sixteen digits! Then the # button. The machine lady then asked me to input my six-digit telephone banking code. Then the # button.

I was prepared.

I did what I was told.

The next few minutes were frantic. They were electric.

I was then sent into a number selecting frenzy. I picked option three. Internet Banking enquiry. Then the # button. Option two. Overseas transfers. Then the # button. Option four. Payment not recorded. Then the # button. Then I waited.

I persevered.

I was patient.

Music then played. Dreadful music. I intermittently received a recorded message. The voice was male.

It was commanding.

It was soothing.

It said “Your call important to us. All of our customer services officers are currently busy at the moment. Please hold and we will transfer your call as soon as one is available”.

I persisted. Every three minutes the recorded message was repeated. I know this because I timed it. One hundred and eighty seconds. Eleven times. Thirty-three minutes. My patience had eroded. I was riled.



Eventually I heard a human voice and I was momentarily elated.

“How can I address you?” was the opening line.

“I am Peter” I replied.

“May I call you Mr. Peter?” was the next polite enquiry.

“You may” I responded.

“It is my name”.

“May I ask for yours?” I requested.

There was a pause. A deliberation. There was some palpable hesitation.

Eventually, “My name is Rajesh” was uttered.

“Before we proceed,” said Rajesh,

“I will be needing to ask you some security questions”.

‘I understand” I retorted.

“I will need to be asking some myself”.

“May I have your full name Mr. Peter?”

“May I have yours first please Mr. Rajesh?”

Remember, I had been waiting for thirty-three minutes. I was lost in the machine and I craved communication. There was a silence.

It was deafening.

“Are you there Mr. Rajesh?” I enquired.

“Can you hear me?”

Rajesh’s voice was hesitant. He replied “My name is Rajesh Adapa Ailani Polhuru”

I asked him to spell it as I wrote it down. I then gave him my name. He asked me to spell it. I assume he entered it into a computer. I could hear the keyboard clicking.


Data was being entered.

“Now I will be needing your date of birth,” asked Rajesh.

“But first I will be needing yours” I rebutted.

“But why” Rajesh asked. I could hear the anxiety in his voice.

“Security” I responded.

“I need to know that you are who you say you are”

We swapped dates of birth. Rajesh did so less willingly than me. For the record, he is a Virgo - I am an Aries.

“I have one more question Mr. Peter,” said Rajesh.

There was a tremor in his voice. I could feel his distress. I could taste his fear.

“Me too. Mr. Rajesh”. I asserted.

“Me too.”

“I am needing the maiden name of your mother Mr. Peter”, he whispered.

“Please sir. Do not be asking mine”

“But I must Mr. Rajesh” I demanded.

“I simply must”

I thought I heard a wail before I was disconnected. Despite my enquiry going unanswered I felt a perverse sense of satisfaction.


Whimsical elation

Friday, February 28, 2014

Britain's Got Simon Cowell

Today I am having a cave woman day. Somebody has to replace the Caveman. Even he has vacated this hole.

Don’t worry. I’m not going to go to the full Caveman level of living in a fort of Dominos pizza boxes, refusing to wash and growing a beard that makes me look like I belong to the cast of 'Lord of the Rings'. I’ve just decided not to leave the house for a day.

When leaving the house, there are numerous potential hazards to be considered. You’re at risk of natural disasters and extreme weather. You may think that in Manchester the risk is pretty low, but at the moment it’s monsoon season, with torrential rain usually occurring between the months of January right through to December. This can have devastating effects, turning sleek, straightened hair into a Sixties afro and £6 Primark shoes into soggy shreds of plastic.

There’s the possibility of a freak accident, and with the new tramway system in the city, the risk of being mowed down by a tram coming out of the middle of nowhere is up to 90 per cent. Combined with the number of under aged boy-racers, taxi drivers and those dickheads behind the wheels of BMWs, you are lucky if you return home with all of your limbs.

The Shadow is living proof that in a modern society, we also face the danger of attracting a stalker. So, if you do make it home alive, it’s worth barricading the door on your way in and keeping your rape alarm with you at all times.

Probably the most frequent and dangerous hazard to encounter is that of social humiliation. You may only need step a few paces away from your doorstep and there it is, lurking. Sometimes you might make it further afield, you may go a whole day without experiencing it, but trust me, it’s there, and it’s waiting to pounce at any given moment.

My evening yesterday began by watching a bunch of idiots voluntarily inflicting social humiliation upon themselves. 'Britain’s Got Talent', by which we really mean, 'Britain’s Got Simon Cowell'.

It was nice to be at the other end of the spectrum for a change – the profitable end of the spectrum, where you can point and laugh at the people who have lives which are even more pathetic than your own. But you can’t stay at this end of the spectrum for long, and I was soon reminded of a series of humiliating events involving the biggest wanker of all time, *Rudolph*. Because next to Simon Cowell, the man who has made his millions profiting from the victims of social humiliation, sits his greatest example, Piers Morgan.

I never noticed it before but Piers Morgan is the spitting image of Rudolph. His boggly eyes, his overly posh accent, his lips which can’t quite separate when he talks because they’re stuck together with Superglue or something. Rudolph has it all. Perhaps he is in fact Piers Morgan’s secret love child. It’s unimaginable that the world is able to produce two men who are equally so much up their own arses it makes people vomit, without there being some sort of genetic relationship.

Porna had arranged a 'Britain’s Got Talent' party for her and all her workmates. She works at the M.E.N Arena, so I can sort of see why they are so interested. The contestants will all be performing there within a few weeks on their live tour. Yes, there is a live tour. Simon Cowell didn’t miss on that money making opportunity. I bet he thought, "Right, I’ve already humiliated these freaks beyond belief, what else can I do? I know, I’ll turn it into some sort of travelling circus and charge the public 30 pounds a ticket to see the elephant man and the 80 year old woman from Glasgow singing Edith Piaf."

I couldn’t stay long at the party - a) because I hate Piers Morgan and b) because I was meant to be meeting Mozza and Panjita, plus a load of other people I didn’t know, for a night out.

Mozza used to live with Panjita and I in our university halls. Over four years, the three of us have all managed to stay in contact.

Mozza and Panjita are closer, and I am the cling-on friend. It never used to be that way, but last year I went away to France and Germany, and so the two of them became best-buds while I was gone. They also became best-buds with a load of other new people, the people I went out with last night. I don’t know them. These new people, on the other hand, apparently know me very well.

Mozza now lives back down South and is working as a teaching assistant. She comes back to Manchester every now and then to get extremely drunk and voluntarily socially humiliate herself. She and Panjita get incredibly excited about this charade, about a month in advance there is an event created on Facebook and there is a constant wall-to-wall of "I can’t wait to see you!" I don’t share the same enthusiasm. I’d prefer it if we went out for a civilised meal and talked about our lives rather than get bladdered with the hockey team.

Yes, the hockey team.

The very same hockey team for which Rudolph plays.

And this is how my night of social humiliation began.

When I start sleeping with people I inform my mother. She likes a bit of gossip and I realised, after The Shadow incident, if I’m going to be having sex with a man, someone should probably know about it. If I end up dead in a river somewhere, I want my mum to be able to go after the fool who did it. And he would be a fool. For all I knew, Rudolph could have been a killer, and so I had to tell my mum, in case she would one day have reason to tear every limb from his torso. I still might suggest it.

So, one day. I received a message from my mum. "Who is that girl in Rudolph's profile picture?"

I couldn’t have run to the phone quick enough. My mum is the type of person who would have added him on Facebook – it wouldn’t have been the first time. At first you think having a mother who knows how to use the Internet is cool, but this woman knows no boundaries. I have tried deleting her, but she cries. She still leaves soppy comments on my status. Although I do get my revenge, I hacked her account and changed her profile picture to the photo of her in Amsterdam sat on a giant penis.

Anyway, I now know who the girl from the profile picture is. She was there last night, casting me the look of death from across the table. Panjita’s other friend, who has also slept with Rudolph, was there too, and she had some grudges to bear. If it wasn’t ex-conquests, it was his friends, making jokes and dirty remarks about my private areas. I have never met these people in my life. And yet somehow, they know all about my whole anatomy and can describe it in vivid detail.

I wish Rudolph a very slow and painful death.

So, imagine. I am sat there in a cocktail bar with a load of hockey players who know how I like it doggy style. The girl from the profile picture is looking at me so spitefully you would think that I had butchered her parents. Another girl is ranting in my ear about how Rudolph ruined her life whilst she smokes my cigarettes. I can see Mozza’s vagina because her dress is so short and she’s so drunk that she’s clumsily rolling around on the floor and Panjita is trying to set me up with yet another one of her friends, who by the way was a complete freak. How did I react to this uncomfortable situation? How do I ever react to an uncomfortable situation? I drink. I made my way through the whole cocktail menu.

After several Long Island ice teas, cheeky Vimtos and God knows whatever else was on that menu, I could start to see the funny side. I was chatting away to the freak, then an Irish guy who apparently I’ve met before but deleted him from Facebook (oops) and then to a guy who had incredibly bad breath. I thought I had put the social humiliation behind me. That’s when it strikes – when you think you are safe.

On my way out of the bar, I heard one of the guys make some jokey comment about my breasts. I could have walked away gracefully. But that’s just not me, that would make life too simple. Instead, I walked up to the glass window, pressed my chest up against the window and pulled my top over my head. I think one of my nipples may have been hanging out of my bra. Yes. That sure showed them. That is definitely the way to deal with social humiliation.

Last night I may as well have been on the 'Britain’s Got Talent' final. Simon Cowell and Amanda Holden would have all pressed that red button and buzzed me off stage. Piers Morgan probably loved it.

Instead of a group of MEN staff sat around at Porna’s applauding the TV screen, my audience was a bunch of rowdy hockey players. I have managed to inflict more social humiliation upon myself than the Glaswegian opera singer who can’t remember her lines. Simon Cowell has probably received news of this event and wants to sign me up to his travelling tour of circus freaks.

Every day that goes by I start to understand more about the Caveman. He must feel very safe in his fort of pizza boxes. Social humiliation is repelled by his smell and he can’t see what’s going on around him through all that facial hair. I don’t think I could grow a beard, even if I wanted to, I’ve spent all my Dominos money on Long Island ice tea and it must take years to acquire such a scent. I guess I will never be a true cave woman. So for now, I’m just hiding in my room.