My biggest thrill in life, is the Concession Card. I love them. Ever since I stopped being a student I have been trying to get my hands on a Concession Card anyway possible. If I meet someone who works at a school. "school eh...got any concession cards on ya?" I'm like a junky. Scratching myself, standing on the corner of SCEGGS Redlands, trying to hustle the preppy high school students.. "got a concession? i'll pay ya. come onnn"
Alas.. Nothing.
There is nothing better than getting stuff Half Price. Half Price Public Transport. Half Price Movies. Paying full price is for suckers, and I am sick of being a full price paying sucker.
Now, because of the fact that I have been unemployed for 3 months, I have decided that it might be time to suck it up and ask the government to give me Money $$$$, and if not Money, a Concession Card at least?? Those full price travel 10's add up you know! Damn You Establishment.
So I put in the call and.. wow... it's hardly worth the effort. I know they're not going to give me any money because my husband makes too much money, but that's so unfair. My husband's not an ATM machine... didn't the government learn anything from 'Independent Women' by Destiny's Child??
How am I supposed to be Independent if they won't help me out?? what if my husband was a real jerk and beat me and locked me the house so I couldn't spend his money. What if I wasn't allowed to eat his cheese, because it was his cheese and he brought it with his money? (I've heard of this happening) You can't force us ladies to live in 'Not Without My Daughter' circumstances... what a gheybo situation.
I think everybody should be entitled to some form of unemployment assistance, even if they are married.. its a burden and an embarrassment to have to rely on someone else to provide the most basic of needs for you. I paid taxes. I should get at least 3 months unemployment money. Well that's what i'd give everybody if I was King. You gotta let people keep their dignity.
They just make it sooo damn hard for anyone to claim any benefits, Gone are the days of the carefree 1980's where everyone was on the dole, and you didn't even need to provide them with an address... these days I have to tell them - what make car I drive, how much money I have in savings, what the net worth of my CD collection is.. i'm surprised they didn't ask me how many times I poo each day so they could gauge how rich we are by the amount of food I eat....
I was reading on their website that they are 'helping' people out with their recession.PFFFFT. how humiliating is this; when you apply for monetary assistance if you are job seeking, you need to provide them with a 'Separation Certificate' from your former employer. How embarrassing. Wouldn't half the people out there have too much pride to go back to their former employees to ask them to fill out this stupid form. I would be. There is no way i'd ever ask my former employer Cunty McCuntface for this, besides I resigned, what info could she tell them that I can't?? erghh. I bet that if you were a well paid business executive and you suddenly found yourself unemployed you'd rather die than admit to your former employers that you were on the dole. No wonder there is such a high suicide rate amongst men..
So anyway, I'm going to go into their offices next week to try and scam a concession card out of them, if they won't give me anything else at least let me have this!! And when i'm in there i'll just relay this story to them and see if it changes their minds.
You see, if you don't give me any assistance money, then my husband is gonna get really annoyed. What if the stress of supporting me is too much and he dies of a stress induced heart attack? well then you'd be paying me Unemployed Widow Assistance money? which I guess is a lot more than just regular Unemployed Loser money, so why not just cough that up now and save us all the anguish... and throw some concession cards in while you're at it.
I miss the 80's. Everything was so much better back then. Except for all the AIDS. I bet if you had AIDS now they'd give you a concession card though.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Ode to Brown Cars
Where have all the brown cars gone?
I long to see one parked on my lawn.
So ugly on the eyes,
You've all gone to the big carpark in the skies.
Where did you all come from??
I long to see one parked on my lawn.
So ugly on the eyes,
You've all gone to the big carpark in the skies.
Where did you all come from??
I haven't seen a brown car in forever.
They are like an extinct race... Dodo's, Sperm Whales, and Brown Cars.
Brown Cars were HUGE in the 80's. Everyone had them. Chevy Chase, 80's Texas Oil Tycoons, Al Bundy.. but these days.. nothin.
Why did the brown cars die out?? I would love to drive an old piece of shit poo coloured car around. It'd be diferent wouldn't it? Red?Blue? soo boring.
If 1980's spandex clothing can make a comeback, then Brown Cars should too. Who's coming to the rally?? 11am (cos I like to sleep in) at my house tomorrow. We'll make signs and watch The Young Ones on VHS in the spare room.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Fugly Potter
Erghhh I'm just really annoyed that Daniel Radcliffe is such a big fugly herman munster head.
How are they going to pull off Harry being all tall and fighting off Voldemort in the 7th Movie ??? He looks about 4 feet tall. Why would Ginny the smokin red-head look twice at this dweeb?? it just doesn't make any sense to me.
It's a shame that you don't have a mirror into the future in a casting session, so that when you cast the awkward 11 year old, you can see if he's going to end up a friendless virgin when he's 17 and therefore not going to pull off the role of Hunky Harry Potter.
Not that J K Rowling ever went into details of Harry's Hunkiness but it would be really good if they could replace him with Chase Crawford or Zac Efron in the final installment.
Boo You Daniel. Maybe they'll have to do the 7th movie as Pantsless Potter, then we'll have something good to look at when they are whinging their way through the forests looking for Horcrux's.
It's time to Die.. Ryan
In exciting stalker news: Nummy Num Num Ryan Reynolds will be in Sydney as of January next year..
Yayyyyyyyyyyy.
This gives me a few months at least to get the city booby trapped. And when I mean booby trapped I will be lining the streets with naked boobies in order to drag him down into my dungeon where I will do unspeakable things to him; like grate cheese on his chest, and do ye olde style laundry on his abs.
Mmmm the city is going to have to get some sort of street cleaners on the payroll for the months that he is in town on account on the trails of slime that will be leaked all over the place.
Hunk.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
The Big Jalan Jalan of Life
Have you ever been to Bali?? its a really nice but really scummy place all at the same time. I really dig the tropical holiday vibe, but at the same time when I look back at my behaviour with the sellers who were peddling their wares on the beach I get a little embarrassed.
I remember during the war in East Timor, I went on a holiday to Bali, and being that there was a war on, everything was really cheap -so you could really haggle the price down on something even if you didn't want it and have no interest in following through on a purchase. I think I reduced a guy to tears on a wooden elephant. "pfft poverty.. ??? me rich white woman. want elephant. jalan jalan"..
Jalan Jalan means walking away or walking walking.. I'm not really sure.. but they would freak out and sell you the elephant for cheap if you threatened to Jalan Jalan. Today is my birthday and I have spent 29 years Jalan Jalaning through life. Got a stupid job?? Jalan Jalan. Someone pissing you off?? Jalan Jalan. Luckily these days through my years of wisdom I have learnt not to scam the 3rd world country junk sellers. I am growing up! What sort of present would you buy someone to celebrate the big 29?? How about this:
wtf??
Is it a broccoli that is also an iPod?? Maybe it scares off other broccoli's from entering the premises, because let's face it - Broccoli is the jihad of the vegetable kingdom. I haaaaaate broccoli. Luckily now I have one of these.. things.. I will always be reminded of my broccoli hatred, just in case I forget and go to make a broccoli sandwich in the middle of the night or something??
Jalan Jalan on you Broccoli.
I remember during the war in East Timor, I went on a holiday to Bali, and being that there was a war on, everything was really cheap -so you could really haggle the price down on something even if you didn't want it and have no interest in following through on a purchase. I think I reduced a guy to tears on a wooden elephant. "pfft poverty.. ??? me rich white woman. want elephant. jalan jalan"..
Jalan Jalan means walking away or walking walking.. I'm not really sure.. but they would freak out and sell you the elephant for cheap if you threatened to Jalan Jalan. Today is my birthday and I have spent 29 years Jalan Jalaning through life. Got a stupid job?? Jalan Jalan. Someone pissing you off?? Jalan Jalan. Luckily these days through my years of wisdom I have learnt not to scam the 3rd world country junk sellers. I am growing up! What sort of present would you buy someone to celebrate the big 29?? How about this:
wtf??
Is it a broccoli that is also an iPod?? Maybe it scares off other broccoli's from entering the premises, because let's face it - Broccoli is the jihad of the vegetable kingdom. I haaaaaate broccoli. Luckily now I have one of these.. things.. I will always be reminded of my broccoli hatred, just in case I forget and go to make a broccoli sandwich in the middle of the night or something??
Jalan Jalan on you Broccoli.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
KillaKanga Wine
Over the weekend I went on a wee trip to the Hunter Valley, land of cheese, fresh air, and roadkill.
We stayed at a cabin which would be an excellent hideout if you were in the Witness Protection Program. The cabin had a fireplace which let me tell you - would keep me occupied for days if I was stuck inside. And if you're gonna have a fireplace the next thing you need is marshmallows (check) and a variety of board games.
Have you ever tried to play a board game when you're really stoned?? it's impossible. We would sit and read the instructions for 10 mins each, then decide it was too hard and play our own version of what we think the game should be. Even under normal circumstances games are hard. I think a great game would be one where whichever team figures out how to correctly play the games - wins.
I often wonder how do the winery people come up with the names of their wines, no one wants to drink a wine with a bad name, and a good name is sometimes all that is needed to decide to go inside.
I was thinking of these:
KillaKanga Wines: named after the killer kangaroo that jumped out at us whilst we were driving along a dark desolate road at night.
Nuclear Rock Wine: named after the pile of rocks that was on the road, and the subsequent army trucks that appeared on the scene. Does a pile of rocks really deserve the Men in Black? the only thing we could think of where that they rocks themselves were Nuclear or Space Rocks.
Dessert Gnocchi Wines: when only a plate of Gnocchi will hit the spot.
Stealth Olympics Wines: named after the team of waiters at Margans restaurant who quickly cleaned up a nasty spillage within 5 seconds, we didn't even realise we had a spillage till after it had disappeared. Quick like the Wind.
Comfy Pants Wines: I was devastated when I realised I didn't pack my comfy pants and had to wear mark's pants which looked terrible. Devo! Imagine drinking your comfy pants wine in comfy pants?!
Nitty Gritty Wines: named after the 'relationship' game we played which if you get the questions wrong - pretty much points to getting a divorce. Talk about pressure.
The Dutch Oven: wines where you can smoke a doob in the car, and drink wine at the same time.
Now the only questions is what do I do with my bag of leftover marshmallows. If they aren't charred from the fireplace. I don't want them.
We stayed at a cabin which would be an excellent hideout if you were in the Witness Protection Program. The cabin had a fireplace which let me tell you - would keep me occupied for days if I was stuck inside. And if you're gonna have a fireplace the next thing you need is marshmallows (check) and a variety of board games.
Have you ever tried to play a board game when you're really stoned?? it's impossible. We would sit and read the instructions for 10 mins each, then decide it was too hard and play our own version of what we think the game should be. Even under normal circumstances games are hard. I think a great game would be one where whichever team figures out how to correctly play the games - wins.
I often wonder how do the winery people come up with the names of their wines, no one wants to drink a wine with a bad name, and a good name is sometimes all that is needed to decide to go inside.
I was thinking of these:
KillaKanga Wines: named after the killer kangaroo that jumped out at us whilst we were driving along a dark desolate road at night.
Nuclear Rock Wine: named after the pile of rocks that was on the road, and the subsequent army trucks that appeared on the scene. Does a pile of rocks really deserve the Men in Black? the only thing we could think of where that they rocks themselves were Nuclear or Space Rocks.
Dessert Gnocchi Wines: when only a plate of Gnocchi will hit the spot.
Stealth Olympics Wines: named after the team of waiters at Margans restaurant who quickly cleaned up a nasty spillage within 5 seconds, we didn't even realise we had a spillage till after it had disappeared. Quick like the Wind.
Comfy Pants Wines: I was devastated when I realised I didn't pack my comfy pants and had to wear mark's pants which looked terrible. Devo! Imagine drinking your comfy pants wine in comfy pants?!
Nitty Gritty Wines: named after the 'relationship' game we played which if you get the questions wrong - pretty much points to getting a divorce. Talk about pressure.
The Dutch Oven: wines where you can smoke a doob in the car, and drink wine at the same time.
Now the only questions is what do I do with my bag of leftover marshmallows. If they aren't charred from the fireplace. I don't want them.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
We're Number One!!!... well almost
so, in the family I married into, there are 3 brothers. I bagged the middle brother (who is rife with middle child issues.. but that's ok - cos that balances out my only child issues so its a good match)
Anyway, we have always been Number 3 in the rank of things, which kind of sucks, but you get used to it. Proof of our Number 3-ness.
The Number One's were the golden children - because they had babies. My mother in law is baby crazy, like would probably steal a kid from a park if she thought she could get away with it. The Number One's had two baby boys, moved into a house, and lived a very wholesome life; church, baby showers, petting zoos, christenings..... the whole nine yards of a wholesome god-fearing family that have angel wings. The Number One brother can build things, like decks, out of wood. Mark can't even put a freedom furniture wardrobe together without having an aneurysm. In the words of Juno "they were golden.. man"
The Number Twos were the second runners up in the wholesome family stakes; the wife came with a 7 year old, then they procreated their own, brought a house, had family cook-offs, church goers, and lived the happy family life out with the Number Ones in wholesome suburbia. Although the brothers wife is kinda Iraqi or something, so they get put in Number Two position just because you can't trust those crazy Iraqis.. "ooh happy birthday, here is your bomb cake.." ***does shifty eyes***
So that leaves us in the position of Number 3. It's not so bad being number 3 - I mean you might get the worst Christmas presents out of the group ie: "iPods all round, except for you number threes, here is an old fondue maker that's been on top of the fridge for 15 years.." But at least people don't expect much from you. We don't have babies, we don't own a place, we don't go to church, we don't know our nieces and nephews birthdays, but its ok, we are the deadbeats but we are already number 3 so we can't go any further down the lineage.
But we can go UP!!
The Number One's have been pushed off their pedestal!!!!!! Obviously the Number Two's are moving up a notch, but that means so do we!!!!!!! Yesssss. That means now we will get an inheritance... people will be interested in our stories when we tell them we are going to Europe rather than going on a family holiday to Warner Bros Movie World, marks mum wont look at me with disgust and disdain in her eyes when she sees my empty and superfluous womb. No more fondue cookers!
Shame that our ascension has to come on the tails of a nasty divorce, but it feels good up here being Number 2. The people look like ants. Now I can only hope that the New Number Ones take a trip to Iraq and the brother is held hostage like in that Sally Field movie Not Without My Daughter and has to escape by Camel and kill it and drink the fluid from its belly and hide out in its gut in a sandstorm. (I might not have a kid or go to church, but you can learn a lot from watching Man vs Wild)
Then we will be Number One!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyway, we have always been Number 3 in the rank of things, which kind of sucks, but you get used to it. Proof of our Number 3-ness.
The Number One's were the golden children - because they had babies. My mother in law is baby crazy, like would probably steal a kid from a park if she thought she could get away with it. The Number One's had two baby boys, moved into a house, and lived a very wholesome life; church, baby showers, petting zoos, christenings..... the whole nine yards of a wholesome god-fearing family that have angel wings. The Number One brother can build things, like decks, out of wood. Mark can't even put a freedom furniture wardrobe together without having an aneurysm. In the words of Juno "they were golden.. man"
The Number Twos were the second runners up in the wholesome family stakes; the wife came with a 7 year old, then they procreated their own, brought a house, had family cook-offs, church goers, and lived the happy family life out with the Number Ones in wholesome suburbia. Although the brothers wife is kinda Iraqi or something, so they get put in Number Two position just because you can't trust those crazy Iraqis.. "ooh happy birthday, here is your bomb cake.." ***does shifty eyes***
So that leaves us in the position of Number 3. It's not so bad being number 3 - I mean you might get the worst Christmas presents out of the group ie: "iPods all round, except for you number threes, here is an old fondue maker that's been on top of the fridge for 15 years.." But at least people don't expect much from you. We don't have babies, we don't own a place, we don't go to church, we don't know our nieces and nephews birthdays, but its ok, we are the deadbeats but we are already number 3 so we can't go any further down the lineage.
But we can go UP!!
The Number One's have been pushed off their pedestal!!!!!! Obviously the Number Two's are moving up a notch, but that means so do we!!!!!!! Yesssss. That means now we will get an inheritance... people will be interested in our stories when we tell them we are going to Europe rather than going on a family holiday to Warner Bros Movie World, marks mum wont look at me with disgust and disdain in her eyes when she sees my empty and superfluous womb. No more fondue cookers!
Shame that our ascension has to come on the tails of a nasty divorce, but it feels good up here being Number 2. The people look like ants. Now I can only hope that the New Number Ones take a trip to Iraq and the brother is held hostage like in that Sally Field movie Not Without My Daughter and has to escape by Camel and kill it and drink the fluid from its belly and hide out in its gut in a sandstorm. (I might not have a kid or go to church, but you can learn a lot from watching Man vs Wild)
Then we will be Number One!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
90 Million Dreams
There is a pretty big lottery jackpot up for grabs at the moment. $90 Million to be exact. It's making news headlines. It seems that everyone I know has a ticket and are having imaginary spend-a-thons in their heads right now with what they will do with their money if they win. I am no better, I have my trusty ticket and am thinking up ideas for the worlds greatest refuge for displaced Burmese Cats.
The odds are though. That I won't win. Nobody Wins.
Plus the fact that we as a nation squandered all this money on lottery tickets, when we could have donated that money to a state of the art research facility to finding a cure for cancer or something worthwhile. Just seems wrong.
Besides - people who win the lottery end up junky recluses living in self devised panic rooms constructed out of cardboard boxes with rodent security guards. I bet these folks wish they'd never wandered into the newsagent on that fateful day:
William Post: won $16.2 Million
His girlfriend sued him for millions. His brother hired a hit man to kill him. Had a heart attack. Squandered his money. Declared Bankruptcy. Ended up living on social security.
Jeffrey Dampier: won $20 Million
Kidnapped and Killed by his sister in law who wanted the money.
Jack Whittaker: won $315 Million
Let's just say his life went to shit and ended up spending more time in court with litigation cases than one man needs to. Besieged by people wanting a handout. Lavished money on his grand-daughter who ended up being killed by drug dealers.
I guess what one can learn from their forays into the imagination dreamland of winning the lottery, is that you shouldn't tell people. Specially people you're related to (if they have a gun). Besides money can't buy taste.
The odds are though. That I won't win. Nobody Wins.
Plus the fact that we as a nation squandered all this money on lottery tickets, when we could have donated that money to a state of the art research facility to finding a cure for cancer or something worthwhile. Just seems wrong.
Besides - people who win the lottery end up junky recluses living in self devised panic rooms constructed out of cardboard boxes with rodent security guards. I bet these folks wish they'd never wandered into the newsagent on that fateful day:
William Post: won $16.2 Million
His girlfriend sued him for millions. His brother hired a hit man to kill him. Had a heart attack. Squandered his money. Declared Bankruptcy. Ended up living on social security.
Jeffrey Dampier: won $20 Million
Kidnapped and Killed by his sister in law who wanted the money.
Jack Whittaker: won $315 Million
Let's just say his life went to shit and ended up spending more time in court with litigation cases than one man needs to. Besieged by people wanting a handout. Lavished money on his grand-daughter who ended up being killed by drug dealers.
I guess what one can learn from their forays into the imagination dreamland of winning the lottery, is that you shouldn't tell people. Specially people you're related to (if they have a gun). Besides money can't buy taste.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Petty Garbage Grudge
I've been waiting for a news story to break on my front lawn, and finally! some crazy ass nigger (not really) has stepped up to the plate and delivered the big blow of crazy that my building needed.
Ever since my crazy schizophrenic neighbour was deported - which may or may not have had anything to do with my calls to the police, things have been quiet. I miss the mental guy, it's not the same sleeping all the way through the night, without being woken up to someone yodelling out the front of the building about tigers and leprechauns. Quiet Times.
Let's talk garbage shall we. Garbage is Garbage. My garbage is your garbage. Garbage just ends up in the bigger garbage later on, so whatever. You want to put your garbage with my garbage that's fine. You want to go through my garbage and keep my couch cushions prisoner for 2 years. I don't care. So I don't know why someone would get so bent out of shape by us putting one bag of garbage in their bin. It's not like we get billed per bag by the garbage men. Tomorrow is garbage day, surely the garbage man will take care of the problem?? What's the big deal about one more bag??
Why do we have to come home to see our garbage strewn all over the lawn?? Airing out the dirty laundry. I don't need people knowing what we're eating. Those potato peelings are private. And so is my magic ingredient for the worlds best potato bake.
Plus who really has the time to take out the bag of offending garbage and touch my garbage and throw it all over the place?? you so touched my half eaten fish. Gross.
Ever since my crazy schizophrenic neighbour was deported - which may or may not have had anything to do with my calls to the police, things have been quiet. I miss the mental guy, it's not the same sleeping all the way through the night, without being woken up to someone yodelling out the front of the building about tigers and leprechauns. Quiet Times.
Let's talk garbage shall we. Garbage is Garbage. My garbage is your garbage. Garbage just ends up in the bigger garbage later on, so whatever. You want to put your garbage with my garbage that's fine. You want to go through my garbage and keep my couch cushions prisoner for 2 years. I don't care. So I don't know why someone would get so bent out of shape by us putting one bag of garbage in their bin. It's not like we get billed per bag by the garbage men. Tomorrow is garbage day, surely the garbage man will take care of the problem?? What's the big deal about one more bag??
Why do we have to come home to see our garbage strewn all over the lawn?? Airing out the dirty laundry. I don't need people knowing what we're eating. Those potato peelings are private. And so is my magic ingredient for the worlds best potato bake.
Plus who really has the time to take out the bag of offending garbage and touch my garbage and throw it all over the place?? you so touched my half eaten fish. Gross.
Friday, June 26, 2009
The Golden Leotard
So. I wonder if in years to come people will ask "so where were you when Michael Jackson died??" personally, I was asleep.
However when I woke up and heard the news I can't say I was tooo phased at first. For one the word "paedophile. paedophile. paedophile" kept running around my head. And I'm not too fussed about dead paedophiles. I don't take kindly to their type roun ere.
BUT!
Then I went to the shops, and I was walking around Supre looking at some really hideous golden leotards and matching slashy gold tights (truly the 80's are back) and the store had MJ playing on the speakers, and wtf?! my eyeballs actually misted up.
Jeez. I was not expecting that. But then again, I have to admit that I do love Michael Jackson's music. I could not get enough of the 'Dangerous' album when I was 12. It is a truly 'fully sic' album, which I think still kicks ass to this day.
So I cried. A tiny bit in Supre in the hideous spandex-wear section. Luckily if anyone saw me they would have hopefully assumed that I was all teared up inside from the prospect of seeing someone actually walking around in one of these stupid creations. Perhaps it is not a coincidence that the full impact of the event didn't hit me until that moment in the leotard section - but if it's good enough for Michael Jackson, then it's good enough for me.
I propose that the Gold Leotard becomes the signature clothing of mourning for this musical legend.
Basically if you ever needed a reason to wear a gold leotard. Now is your opportunity.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Pet Peeve
It has been said before that I hate the phone. I can count on one hand the amount of people who I can tolerate speaking to on the phone. For one - conversations are halted, you have to repeat yourself, your wildly flailing arm gestures are of no use, and cell phone drop outs and dead zones are just the tip of the iceberg of my phone hatred.
That is why I prefer to see my friends in person, sure we might not see each other for 4 years, but you can't confuse anything when you are standing right in front of someone and looking into their eyes when you pour your heart out.
I would also like to give an award to whoever invented MSN Messenger, and the Email. Thank God for the written word. So basically if you don't write good or you cant get your shit together to hook up in person - then odds are our relationship won't last very long. (I count amusing status updates as forms of communication)
Boo You Phone.
People should have newsletters. I would love this. 1 x A4 page of what you've been doing for the past month, a photo of yourself, and distribute them to all your friends & family. It would be cute, nothing would be left out, and it would dispel the myth that 'print is dead'.
One of the things I hate most about the phone is the 'surprise conversation' when the person you are speaking to says "hey I'm just gonna put blah blah on the phone so you can say hi"
Can you not??
I don't want to speak to this person. If I did I would have called them myself. Then you have to do the tedious chit chat... the worst.
Actually - No this is the worst.
Imagine your dad calls you, and he is on holidays in Thailand, and then he calls you late at night, starts talking with some bizarre american hybrid accent, and then!!!! does the 'surprise conversation' trick and puts on some thai-random (and in my brain: hooker) for you to speak to!!
Gross. So disgusting I cant even describe. I think i'll have to throw my phone out now that it has violated my ear-hole in such a way.
Here's a tip!! NEVER phone someone and then put a thai-random (and possible hooker or ladyboy) on the phone to speak to them.
Screw you phone!! None of this would have happened in an email. For one, I don't think hookers like to spend their hard earned cash on internet access.
Erghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I need to go wash my ear. I'm in the market for a new cochlear if you see one.
That is why I prefer to see my friends in person, sure we might not see each other for 4 years, but you can't confuse anything when you are standing right in front of someone and looking into their eyes when you pour your heart out.
I would also like to give an award to whoever invented MSN Messenger, and the Email. Thank God for the written word. So basically if you don't write good or you cant get your shit together to hook up in person - then odds are our relationship won't last very long. (I count amusing status updates as forms of communication)
Boo You Phone.
People should have newsletters. I would love this. 1 x A4 page of what you've been doing for the past month, a photo of yourself, and distribute them to all your friends & family. It would be cute, nothing would be left out, and it would dispel the myth that 'print is dead'.
One of the things I hate most about the phone is the 'surprise conversation' when the person you are speaking to says "hey I'm just gonna put blah blah on the phone so you can say hi"
Can you not??
I don't want to speak to this person. If I did I would have called them myself. Then you have to do the tedious chit chat... the worst.
Actually - No this is the worst.
Imagine your dad calls you, and he is on holidays in Thailand, and then he calls you late at night, starts talking with some bizarre american hybrid accent, and then!!!! does the 'surprise conversation' trick and puts on some thai-random (and in my brain: hooker) for you to speak to!!
Gross. So disgusting I cant even describe. I think i'll have to throw my phone out now that it has violated my ear-hole in such a way.
Here's a tip!! NEVER phone someone and then put a thai-random (and possible hooker or ladyboy) on the phone to speak to them.
Screw you phone!! None of this would have happened in an email. For one, I don't think hookers like to spend their hard earned cash on internet access.
Erghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I need to go wash my ear. I'm in the market for a new cochlear if you see one.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Magic Trick.........
Here we have your typical australian $5 note.... 
but what would happen if I were to ... fold in in half...
and then fold it in half again....
and then if I fold that in half.. and rotate it to the side.. what??.. what is that I see???
Is that............... a penis entering a vagina!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The best part about this juvenile trick is that not only does the Queens neck double as vivid sexual penetration imagery, but the vagina itself is surrounded by a Pearl Necklace.. HA!
ahhh being immature is so much fun....is this even legal?? i'm sure it's illegal to burn legal tender, but I think it's a grey area to turn currency into pornographic images..
Now, where is some other currency to defile? Must have skinny neck.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
How about this one...
So, it turns out my scheme for making me an instant millionaire isn't as great as I thought it was. I will have to stop spending my imaginary money on a mansion with a pool with a glass deck on the top so we can dance on the water like Jesus...
My crap scheme was: utilise the power of effervescent tablets (Berocca/Aspirin) and change the dynamics from vitamins/medicine to the power of Coke/Fanta... and then we will give these magic tablets to povo africans or thirsty guys in the army... unfortunately people have pointed out to me that povo africans don't even have clean water to make fizzy drinks with, let alone have need of a Fanta Lake in the middle of their village (and I'm sure the zebra's don't want Fanta either)... well that's just great.. back to the Drawing Board.
My NEW idea is this:
A Taxi Simulator for Drug Addicts.
It's a well known fact that sitting in a car and being driven around is one of life's great pleasures, it's probably even better when you are really high on heroin and just want to be warm and listen to the radio, and have a nice hearty chat with a wise old taxi driver... so I suggest a taxi (that is stationary - like a ride) to be set up with wind machines, and people running past with tree-cut outs (to give the passenger the feel of momentum) I reckon drug addicts would love that. I suggest $200 for one hour, or you can barter your goods if you are too poor and spent all your money on drugs before realising you want a ride in my taxi simulator (1 x bag of potato's = 5 mins)
And this gem also came to me: how about we rally for PENSIONS FOR PAEDOPHILES! you could give them discount cards to shop at Toys R Us, and half price Disney Movie tickets. The recession is hitting everybody, the Pensioner Paedophiles don't want to be left under the rock.
My crap scheme was: utilise the power of effervescent tablets (Berocca/Aspirin) and change the dynamics from vitamins/medicine to the power of Coke/Fanta... and then we will give these magic tablets to povo africans or thirsty guys in the army... unfortunately people have pointed out to me that povo africans don't even have clean water to make fizzy drinks with, let alone have need of a Fanta Lake in the middle of their village (and I'm sure the zebra's don't want Fanta either)... well that's just great.. back to the Drawing Board.
My NEW idea is this:
A Taxi Simulator for Drug Addicts.
It's a well known fact that sitting in a car and being driven around is one of life's great pleasures, it's probably even better when you are really high on heroin and just want to be warm and listen to the radio, and have a nice hearty chat with a wise old taxi driver... so I suggest a taxi (that is stationary - like a ride) to be set up with wind machines, and people running past with tree-cut outs (to give the passenger the feel of momentum) I reckon drug addicts would love that. I suggest $200 for one hour, or you can barter your goods if you are too poor and spent all your money on drugs before realising you want a ride in my taxi simulator (1 x bag of potato's = 5 mins)
And this gem also came to me: how about we rally for PENSIONS FOR PAEDOPHILES! you could give them discount cards to shop at Toys R Us, and half price Disney Movie tickets. The recession is hitting everybody, the Pensioner Paedophiles don't want to be left under the rock.
Friday, June 19, 2009
What is wrong with this picture??
Today I left the house dressed like this:
I can't believe I willingly left the house dressed like 1990's Jerry Seinfeld.
That's not the worst part.
The worst part is that I knew I was dressed like 90's Seinfeld (blue jeans and white sneakers should never be seen) and I still left the house!
I walked to Crows Nest! I even had a meeting with my bank manager!! Maybe he thought I was a good investment based on my super-lame outfit
"no one dressed like 1990's Seinfeld is going to be a bad investment"
There are lots of other issues I have with this outfit, ie: the kinda high waisted jeans element (although I am sure these days they are considered 'normal' waisted jeans, yet compared to the jeans of my early 20's where my Mons Veneris would be on display, these are definitely 1960's pants)
Ergh. I went for comfort over style!!! What is happening?? Those white sneakers are the comfiest shit I have had my feet in years, yet I look like a major douche wearing them, but I don't care anymore... I hate being mature. It was much better being stylish and in constant painful circulation cutting off outfits and bone-crushing shoes when I was younger.. or was it???
Monday, June 15, 2009
Bejeweled Trance
Officially. I'm not one for video games. I hate hate hate with a passion 'call of duty' and any other stupid war mongering game where you run around and shoot things. That's lame. I am very particular about the games I like, and I am very particular about the ways I play them.
For instance, when I started playing Guitar Hero, I played for 18 consecutive hours and thought i'd have to go to hospital to have my claw hand operated on. And I have been known to play old school Sonic and Super Mario Bros for hours on end.
I have found my new video game crack.
It's probably considered the lamest game in the universe.
Bejeweled is the game, and its like taking video game heroin.
Last night I thought i'd get a quick half an hour in before bed, then I look at the clock and its almost 3am!!!!!!! where the hell did 3 hours go?? Did I fall into a time portal or something? I don't understand.
The game is so simple its ridiculous. Move blocks around and line up 3 colours. Plus it makes a satisfying chinging sound when you get a row. Much like a cash-register when you make an impulse buy. Yet it's dangerous. You can't just put the game on for a quick go, you'll end up glued to the couch whilst hours disappear around you, till unbeknownst to you - the sun is rising.
And that's how I plan to spend the rest of my days.
The Claw.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Leave a Light on for Me....
When I was about 20 I brought a couch. Light Blue. Good for Napping. It did the job. It was the 'number 1' couch for a few years there, even when mark moved in with me and we had a total of 4 couches between us in a 2 bedroom unit, my couch was the one that got primo position in the lounge room.
When we moved to our place we live in now we realised we only had enough room for one set of our couches, so we kept his which were in better condition, and threw out mine. We did however keep the couch cushions to build cubby houses out of when the mood inspired us.
So that's how we lived for a couple of years - with the blue couch cushions shoved under the good couch.
Then one day we brought a new couch. One that took up an entire wall. One that would put you to sleep if sat down on it for more than 5 minutes. I would say it's probably the most comfortable couch in the world.
Hence! we didn't need the stinkin old couches anymore or the povo blue cushions.. so we chucked em! Funnily enough they were gone by 6am the next morning, even though we had dragged them down 3 flights of stairs and left them on the street. Both couches AND the blue cushions. Gone..
Or so we thought.............
This week, I walk outside and look what's waiting for me!!!
they're baaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!!!!
Not only are they back, but they brought picnic blankets with them!! (they must know of my soft spot for picnics)
It's kinda sad isn't it?? it's like we kicked them out of home, they went on their way, probably got addicted to drugs and slept around, had to go to counselling, and finally decided to come home to make amends.........
Darling leave a light on for me
Ill be there before you close the door
To give you all the love that you need
Darling leave a light on for me
cause when the world takes me away
You are still the air that I breathe
Unfortunately the council clean up guys came to take the cushions to the big furniture store in the sky (the tip!) poor things. The tip is the couch cushion version of Auschwitz. Oh well.. if they escape and come back again i'll take em back and they can live out their days under the bed.
When we moved to our place we live in now we realised we only had enough room for one set of our couches, so we kept his which were in better condition, and threw out mine. We did however keep the couch cushions to build cubby houses out of when the mood inspired us.
So that's how we lived for a couple of years - with the blue couch cushions shoved under the good couch.
Then one day we brought a new couch. One that took up an entire wall. One that would put you to sleep if sat down on it for more than 5 minutes. I would say it's probably the most comfortable couch in the world.
Hence! we didn't need the stinkin old couches anymore or the povo blue cushions.. so we chucked em! Funnily enough they were gone by 6am the next morning, even though we had dragged them down 3 flights of stairs and left them on the street. Both couches AND the blue cushions. Gone..
Or so we thought.............
This week, I walk outside and look what's waiting for me!!!
they're baaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!!!!
Not only are they back, but they brought picnic blankets with them!! (they must know of my soft spot for picnics)
It's kinda sad isn't it?? it's like we kicked them out of home, they went on their way, probably got addicted to drugs and slept around, had to go to counselling, and finally decided to come home to make amends.........
Darling leave a light on for me
Ill be there before you close the door
To give you all the love that you need
Darling leave a light on for me
cause when the world takes me away
You are still the air that I breathe
Unfortunately the council clean up guys came to take the cushions to the big furniture store in the sky (the tip!) poor things. The tip is the couch cushion version of Auschwitz. Oh well.. if they escape and come back again i'll take em back and they can live out their days under the bed.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
TV Pitch: Scab Stories
I don't know about you, but I realllly love scabs.
Granted, the injury part of the process stinks, but luckily you have the scab phase to enjoy, so it all evens out.
I love picking scabs, I love resisting picking scabs, I love picking up a corner and peering under the scab, I love the fresh pink skin under a scab, and I love holding my scab and inspecting it once its fallen off and done its duty.
It's a feeling of ... I created this!!!!!!
There could be a nuclear explosion right now, and years from now aliens could find my scab and clone me and I will live again.. goddam scabs are awesome.
But unfortunately I am confined only to enjoying my own scabs.. and I don't really injure myself that often to get many to fawn over.
So.. I would like to pitch to a Lifestyle Channel, a TV show called: SCAB STORIES
Scab Stories (which I would host) would follow the stories of various people of differing ages and injuries and the healing process of their scabs..
I would have children who have fallen over and constantly pick at their scabs.
I would follow teenagers around skate parks waiting for them to injure themselves so I could film the scab story from the very beginning.
I would find upper middle class snobs who have scabs and follow them around whilst they resist picking their scabs
I would get Celebrity Scabs
I would cut myself so I had scabs
I would go to vets and get animal scabs
I would go into a laboratory so we could all see Magnified Scabs
Man that sounds like an awesome show!!!!!!!!!!!!
Where's my TV deal??!?!!!
Granted, the injury part of the process stinks, but luckily you have the scab phase to enjoy, so it all evens out.
I love picking scabs, I love resisting picking scabs, I love picking up a corner and peering under the scab, I love the fresh pink skin under a scab, and I love holding my scab and inspecting it once its fallen off and done its duty.
It's a feeling of ... I created this!!!!!!
There could be a nuclear explosion right now, and years from now aliens could find my scab and clone me and I will live again.. goddam scabs are awesome.
But unfortunately I am confined only to enjoying my own scabs.. and I don't really injure myself that often to get many to fawn over.
So.. I would like to pitch to a Lifestyle Channel, a TV show called: SCAB STORIES
Scab Stories (which I would host) would follow the stories of various people of differing ages and injuries and the healing process of their scabs..
I would have children who have fallen over and constantly pick at their scabs.
I would follow teenagers around skate parks waiting for them to injure themselves so I could film the scab story from the very beginning.
I would find upper middle class snobs who have scabs and follow them around whilst they resist picking their scabs
I would get Celebrity Scabs
I would cut myself so I had scabs
I would go to vets and get animal scabs
I would go into a laboratory so we could all see Magnified Scabs
Man that sounds like an awesome show!!!!!!!!!!!!
Where's my TV deal??!?!!!
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Termy the Terminator
Today I saw Terminator Salvation and it was fucking Orcsome.. (to be explained) If you haven't seen Teminator and don't want to know stuff - stop reading!!!!!
Dah Dah Dah Dah Dah... Dah Dah Dah Dah....
I have always loved the Terminator Series. Terminator 2 came out when I was 12 and I fell instantly in love with Edward Furlong - and since then I have always had a soft spot in my heart for the survival of John Connor.
Terminator 3 - the one with the lady terminator and geriatric T-800 Arnold was shizen. Mega-Shizen. I like to pretend that this movie doesn't exist and Terminator Salvation is where the story picks up after Soft-Hearted Arnie goes for a never-ending swim in the molten metal at the factory at the end of Termy 2.
BEGIN TERMY 4
(duh duh duh duh duh... duh duh duh duh duh
Action Action Action and Special Effects. Sooooo Cool. I love seeing Terminators blows shit up and step on peoples skulls. I came for skull steppage and skull steppage I shall get.
Now - the Termy in this one is played by Australian actor Sam Worthington, who graduated from NIDA in 1998 - his fellow graduates included; Matthew Newton, actors who went onto roles in McLeods Daughters and Play School, and about 20 other rejects who never amounted to anything.. here we have a yardstick of success to judge by; Sam Worthinton = Terminator. Matt Newton = dicky drug dealer with a bad comb over. Go to the front of the class Sam.
(here is some insider information - Sam Worthington's Australian Agent Shanahans, didn't get any commission whatsoever off the Terminator paycheck..which would have been in the double digit millions.. ha ha! that's what you get for being a bunch of dicks - but seriously -if anyone who works there reads this, I would love to work there - peace bro)
Sam is Orcsome (ie: lord of the rings - ORC) when we first see Sam in his Terminator mode, he is wandering around in a haze covered in all sorts of mud and crap, completely disorientated and grunting - very Orc-ish.. perhaps Skynet gives birth to Terminators from a giant tree underground?? such a LOTR rip-off in that case... but this movie is all about rip-offs or homage - if you want to get all French on the subject.
First of all there is a bunch of dicks in a submarine - who represent the United Colours of Benetton - you got your Russian, your White guy, your old Korean Warlord, the Black Commander - they are a bunch of twats who won't listen to John Connor **swoon** so they die. Eat shit submarine hacks.
There is the Hot Asian Kung Fu Ninja - who is bad ass (as they are) but also has a heart of gold, unlike the Hot Asian Kung Fu Ninjas of Mission Impossible III and Die Hard 4.0.. I like that McG brought the ball breaking bitch a bit of depth this time around.
Then there is Kyle Reece (Johns Dad). The whole Terminator universe is a complete time paradox (mind-fuck). It's a never ending game of cat and mouse with the future - which apparently can be changed at anytime - by going into the past. However is this the past? right now? or is the future the past? either way all you need is a naked portal to change anything you want. Jokes on you skynet. But the whole Kyle Reece/Sarah Connor/John Connor sexual triangle really strains my eyebrows in it's suspension of disbelief.
Kyle Reece is played by the idiot pot-smoking kid who gets his ass murdered in Alpha Dog by Justin Timberlake, so it's hard to believe that this schmuck could be the glorious action superstar John Connors dad?? plus he's about 17. Damn You Time Paradox!!
Reece's Pieces also has this little black kid who doesn't speak and gets freaked out all the time.. ahh Newt anyone?? Aliens?? kid who lives in an air conditioning shaft and survives the aliens.. why do futuristic movies about killer anomalies need mute children?? her only super-power is sensing terminators by being even more quiet and still. Maybe we'll get lucky and she will either speak.. or die.. in the next one.
The good thing about Terminator Salvation, is that it kept with the timeline continuum of Terminator 2 - John Connors scratched up face, Reeces Pieces carrying a shotgun, and lots of cute little homages to T2 fans - including, superb use of Guns & Roses 'you could be mine' in a motorcycle chase, a truck chasing a motorcycle, molten lava (hot) and air (cold) being used to wreck terminators, and lots of industrial stair cases and metal framework to fight in.
McG even managed to get 1980's Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator into the movie, god bless CGI.. and all the cool catchphrases like "i'll be back.." "i'll live" and "no fate but what we make" are all brought back.. ahhhhh its a like a really violent and metallic family reunion where everyone gets shot in the face. Heartwarming.
Now - haters aside, who will bitch and moan about plot holes and dippy dialogue and wooden acting.. who gives a %!$# its Terminator people!! Destruction!!! And learning that Terminators can cry.
Dah Dah Dah Dah Dah... Dah Dah Dah Dah....
I have always loved the Terminator Series. Terminator 2 came out when I was 12 and I fell instantly in love with Edward Furlong - and since then I have always had a soft spot in my heart for the survival of John Connor.
Terminator 3 - the one with the lady terminator and geriatric T-800 Arnold was shizen. Mega-Shizen. I like to pretend that this movie doesn't exist and Terminator Salvation is where the story picks up after Soft-Hearted Arnie goes for a never-ending swim in the molten metal at the factory at the end of Termy 2.
BEGIN TERMY 4
(duh duh duh duh duh... duh duh duh duh duh
Action Action Action and Special Effects. Sooooo Cool. I love seeing Terminators blows shit up and step on peoples skulls. I came for skull steppage and skull steppage I shall get.
Now - the Termy in this one is played by Australian actor Sam Worthington, who graduated from NIDA in 1998 - his fellow graduates included; Matthew Newton, actors who went onto roles in McLeods Daughters and Play School, and about 20 other rejects who never amounted to anything.. here we have a yardstick of success to judge by; Sam Worthinton = Terminator. Matt Newton = dicky drug dealer with a bad comb over. Go to the front of the class Sam.
(here is some insider information - Sam Worthington's Australian Agent Shanahans, didn't get any commission whatsoever off the Terminator paycheck..which would have been in the double digit millions.. ha ha! that's what you get for being a bunch of dicks - but seriously -if anyone who works there reads this, I would love to work there - peace bro)
Sam is Orcsome (ie: lord of the rings - ORC) when we first see Sam in his Terminator mode, he is wandering around in a haze covered in all sorts of mud and crap, completely disorientated and grunting - very Orc-ish.. perhaps Skynet gives birth to Terminators from a giant tree underground?? such a LOTR rip-off in that case... but this movie is all about rip-offs or homage - if you want to get all French on the subject.
First of all there is a bunch of dicks in a submarine - who represent the United Colours of Benetton - you got your Russian, your White guy, your old Korean Warlord, the Black Commander - they are a bunch of twats who won't listen to John Connor **swoon** so they die. Eat shit submarine hacks.
There is the Hot Asian Kung Fu Ninja - who is bad ass (as they are) but also has a heart of gold, unlike the Hot Asian Kung Fu Ninjas of Mission Impossible III and Die Hard 4.0.. I like that McG brought the ball breaking bitch a bit of depth this time around.
Then there is Kyle Reece (Johns Dad). The whole Terminator universe is a complete time paradox (mind-fuck). It's a never ending game of cat and mouse with the future - which apparently can be changed at anytime - by going into the past. However is this the past? right now? or is the future the past? either way all you need is a naked portal to change anything you want. Jokes on you skynet. But the whole Kyle Reece/Sarah Connor/John Connor sexual triangle really strains my eyebrows in it's suspension of disbelief.
Kyle Reece is played by the idiot pot-smoking kid who gets his ass murdered in Alpha Dog by Justin Timberlake, so it's hard to believe that this schmuck could be the glorious action superstar John Connors dad?? plus he's about 17. Damn You Time Paradox!!
Reece's Pieces also has this little black kid who doesn't speak and gets freaked out all the time.. ahh Newt anyone?? Aliens?? kid who lives in an air conditioning shaft and survives the aliens.. why do futuristic movies about killer anomalies need mute children?? her only super-power is sensing terminators by being even more quiet and still. Maybe we'll get lucky and she will either speak.. or die.. in the next one.
The good thing about Terminator Salvation, is that it kept with the timeline continuum of Terminator 2 - John Connors scratched up face, Reeces Pieces carrying a shotgun, and lots of cute little homages to T2 fans - including, superb use of Guns & Roses 'you could be mine' in a motorcycle chase, a truck chasing a motorcycle, molten lava (hot) and air (cold) being used to wreck terminators, and lots of industrial stair cases and metal framework to fight in.
McG even managed to get 1980's Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator into the movie, god bless CGI.. and all the cool catchphrases like "i'll be back.." "i'll live" and "no fate but what we make" are all brought back.. ahhhhh its a like a really violent and metallic family reunion where everyone gets shot in the face. Heartwarming.
Now - haters aside, who will bitch and moan about plot holes and dippy dialogue and wooden acting.. who gives a %!$# its Terminator people!! Destruction!!! And learning that Terminators can cry.
The Hot Asian Kung Fu Ninja even tries to Dry-Spoon-Fuck Sam Worthington on a cold sandy mountain (see post below) seriously - this movie has everything.
However one thing that was bugging me - is that every time Christian Bale came on screen I couldn't get this out of my head... It's fucking distracting.. OOoooh Good.. No No Fuck No. What don't you fucking understand? I'm gonna fucking kick your fucking ass. You are trashing my scene!!
Regardless of people wandering in and trashing Christian Bales scene - he was good. 'Skullcrushingly' good I'd say. A very worthy John Connor. I'd see this movie again. .
I'd give it 5/5 skulls to crush on the skull crushing rating machine.
However one thing that was bugging me - is that every time Christian Bale came on screen I couldn't get this out of my head... It's fucking distracting.. OOoooh Good.. No No Fuck No. What don't you fucking understand? I'm gonna fucking kick your fucking ass. You are trashing my scene!!
Regardless of people wandering in and trashing Christian Bales scene - he was good. 'Skullcrushingly' good I'd say. A very worthy John Connor. I'd see this movie again. .
I'd give it 5/5 skulls to crush on the skull crushing rating machine.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Dry-Spoon-Fucking
So many men these days are homo-phobic... not so much in the 'not wanting to be around gays' per se, but definitely 'not wanting to do something that could be perceived as gay'
Example:
You and your mate are stranded on top of an icy mountain, there is no way rescue is going to reach you before morning, you have a some sleeping bags, a tent, but temperatures are going to plummet to super-freezing.. and the best chance of your survival, is to get naked, get into the sleeping bags and naked spoon-fuck each other like nothing else until morning.
Hey! It's not my fault that this is how nature engineered the human body! We radiate shit loads of heat off our naked bodies, if it's good enough for the Matrix to make batteries of us, then it should be good enough to be a last ditch effort survival plan to rub our naked bodies against each other till help arrives.
But No, my husband has expressed his clear intention - that he would rather freeze to death than naked spoon-fuck a man all night.
What a homo..phobe. I'd sooo be naked spooning ANY person if it would ensure my survival.
Even if I added the ingredients of a) wearing underpants - so no nut-brushing would occur (dry-spoon) and b) the person you would be trapped with is Andy (our joint man-best-friend) he would still rather die.
pfffffft. So that is why unfortunately I am going to have to insist on there being an attractive woman present at all future mountain climbs that he partakes in in the Andes Mountain Ranges. He might be a homophobe, but I still want him alive.
I'd Dry-Spoon-Fuck any of my friends on a mountain range. That's just the kind of friend I am.
Example:
You and your mate are stranded on top of an icy mountain, there is no way rescue is going to reach you before morning, you have a some sleeping bags, a tent, but temperatures are going to plummet to super-freezing.. and the best chance of your survival, is to get naked, get into the sleeping bags and naked spoon-fuck each other like nothing else until morning.
Hey! It's not my fault that this is how nature engineered the human body! We radiate shit loads of heat off our naked bodies, if it's good enough for the Matrix to make batteries of us, then it should be good enough to be a last ditch effort survival plan to rub our naked bodies against each other till help arrives.
But No, my husband has expressed his clear intention - that he would rather freeze to death than naked spoon-fuck a man all night.
What a homo..phobe. I'd sooo be naked spooning ANY person if it would ensure my survival.
Even if I added the ingredients of a) wearing underpants - so no nut-brushing would occur (dry-spoon) and b) the person you would be trapped with is Andy (our joint man-best-friend) he would still rather die.
pfffffft. So that is why unfortunately I am going to have to insist on there being an attractive woman present at all future mountain climbs that he partakes in in the Andes Mountain Ranges. He might be a homophobe, but I still want him alive.
I'd Dry-Spoon-Fuck any of my friends on a mountain range. That's just the kind of friend I am.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Mackin' Out
You can learn a lot from 18 year olds these days, there is lots of new slang out there that I haven't even heard of - the most recent being 'mackin out' where two kids mack out on each other (read: get amorous) in front of the general public. Gross. I never mack out. Refuse to. I didn't even mack out at my wedding, if you want to see two people getting onto each other, go rent a B grade porno.
Tonight I was witness to more mackin' out than I will ever need to see in a lifetime. At The Presets gig at the Hordern Pavillion.
All Ages Gigs suck. However they didn't suck when I was underage, maybe because I wasn't preoccupied with taking a billion photos of me and my friends, and mackin out with any guy within arm's reach. I was too busy staring at the stage, focusing on not passing out from dehydration, and nursing injuries sustained from crowd surfers and mosh pit storm circles forming around me. This all-ages crowd were nothing but drunk beyond belief, drugged up, shirts off, slimy mack heads. I think I caught Acne when one of the slimy ones slid past me. What is the point of getting that off your face that you pass out as the headlining act begins??
Tonight's Presets gig was sold out apparently - so why then did we run into about 5 people who were trying to give their tickets away at the Fox & Lion across the road from the show?? Are people that affected by the rain they will forfeit their $60 ticket to stay dry inside. What a bunch of homos. Anyway - even if they did stay home in their comfy pants in front of the heater watching Law & Order SVU - they sure didn't miss out on much at the Hordern.
The Presets were............. meh
I give them a 5.5 - being that they delivered everything I suspected of them, but not one tiny thing more. They played every song off Apocalytpo, and the 'hits' off Beams - which I'm sure to a majority of Presets fans would say that it is the superior of the two albums. Nevertheless - you would have heard all the songs you wanted to hear but nothing more. No surprise mix-ups, no mixing up of any kind - the songs didn't blend into each other - it was like they put on the CD and plugged in a microphone and got a drumkit and created their own Guitar Hero - Presets Tour. Very Average.
The Presets are an Electro Pop band I would say, and I have seen my fair share of Electro Pop artists in concert over the years - the best being The Chemical Brothers, now the Chemical Brothers are probably about 50 years old now, but they put on the best electronics show I have ever seen. Smoke Machines. Lasers. Awesome Sound. Digital Screens. And did I mention lasers??
There were no lasers at The Presets. There were lights, but big deal. I have lights in my kitchen. OOH a red light, I could go to Bunnings Warehouse and sort that out - no big deal. I want lasers. I came to see lasers where the eff are the effing lasers?? The lights were budget anyway. I've seen better light installations at an RBT station driving home on the harbour bridge.
The sound was average. My heart wasn't being pounded out of my chest with the bass line - which is the main thrill of going to gigs in the first place. If I can't feel the beat of the music in my bones, then I may as well be on the bus listening to my iPod.
The only person truly enjoying himself was Paul Mac - who takes the meaning of Mac'n Out to a whole new level. I have never seen someone so off their face and still standing in my life. Can ecstasy do that to a person?? maybe he is able to shoot heroin and function standing up.. Paul Mac is also old. How old is he these days? about 45?? he needs to stop using the drugs and get some L'Oreal skincare if not. I think he would probably still be there swaying if the concert hadn't ended and his equally old friends dragged him out by the elbows.
Needless to say I was a little disappointed - the whole concert felt like an elaborate HOME nightclub set -that is to say average dance music and no amazing set/costumes/stage show of any kind.
This is what The Presets did at the Arias
Funny hats - back up dancers - digital screen and smoke machines (and lasers probably) and what we were treated to tonight was a pretty abysmal effort worthy of a sad RSL somewhere along the forgotten coastline of northern NSW.
Boo.
Tonight I was witness to more mackin' out than I will ever need to see in a lifetime. At The Presets gig at the Hordern Pavillion.
All Ages Gigs suck. However they didn't suck when I was underage, maybe because I wasn't preoccupied with taking a billion photos of me and my friends, and mackin out with any guy within arm's reach. I was too busy staring at the stage, focusing on not passing out from dehydration, and nursing injuries sustained from crowd surfers and mosh pit storm circles forming around me. This all-ages crowd were nothing but drunk beyond belief, drugged up, shirts off, slimy mack heads. I think I caught Acne when one of the slimy ones slid past me. What is the point of getting that off your face that you pass out as the headlining act begins??
Tonight's Presets gig was sold out apparently - so why then did we run into about 5 people who were trying to give their tickets away at the Fox & Lion across the road from the show?? Are people that affected by the rain they will forfeit their $60 ticket to stay dry inside. What a bunch of homos. Anyway - even if they did stay home in their comfy pants in front of the heater watching Law & Order SVU - they sure didn't miss out on much at the Hordern.
The Presets were............. meh
I give them a 5.5 - being that they delivered everything I suspected of them, but not one tiny thing more. They played every song off Apocalytpo, and the 'hits' off Beams - which I'm sure to a majority of Presets fans would say that it is the superior of the two albums. Nevertheless - you would have heard all the songs you wanted to hear but nothing more. No surprise mix-ups, no mixing up of any kind - the songs didn't blend into each other - it was like they put on the CD and plugged in a microphone and got a drumkit and created their own Guitar Hero - Presets Tour. Very Average.
The Presets are an Electro Pop band I would say, and I have seen my fair share of Electro Pop artists in concert over the years - the best being The Chemical Brothers, now the Chemical Brothers are probably about 50 years old now, but they put on the best electronics show I have ever seen. Smoke Machines. Lasers. Awesome Sound. Digital Screens. And did I mention lasers??
There were no lasers at The Presets. There were lights, but big deal. I have lights in my kitchen. OOH a red light, I could go to Bunnings Warehouse and sort that out - no big deal. I want lasers. I came to see lasers where the eff are the effing lasers?? The lights were budget anyway. I've seen better light installations at an RBT station driving home on the harbour bridge.
The sound was average. My heart wasn't being pounded out of my chest with the bass line - which is the main thrill of going to gigs in the first place. If I can't feel the beat of the music in my bones, then I may as well be on the bus listening to my iPod.
The only person truly enjoying himself was Paul Mac - who takes the meaning of Mac'n Out to a whole new level. I have never seen someone so off their face and still standing in my life. Can ecstasy do that to a person?? maybe he is able to shoot heroin and function standing up.. Paul Mac is also old. How old is he these days? about 45?? he needs to stop using the drugs and get some L'Oreal skincare if not. I think he would probably still be there swaying if the concert hadn't ended and his equally old friends dragged him out by the elbows.
Needless to say I was a little disappointed - the whole concert felt like an elaborate HOME nightclub set -that is to say average dance music and no amazing set/costumes/stage show of any kind.
This is what The Presets did at the Arias
Funny hats - back up dancers - digital screen and smoke machines (and lasers probably) and what we were treated to tonight was a pretty abysmal effort worthy of a sad RSL somewhere along the forgotten coastline of northern NSW.
Boo.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Going to Hell
I actually do like Jesus - or the idea of a man called Jesus.
He must have been a very charismatic guy. Definitely knew how to related to people, could throw a decent party with all the fish and wine you'd ever need. He could heal your wounds, and run across the lake if you needed something. He wasn't a judgemental man and was open-minded about almost everything.
He was probably a bit whiffy from his bohemian homeless person lifestyle, but i'm sure that Jesus Sweat smells better than the finest perfumes across all the land..
(note to self.. make perfume called Jesus Sweat)
All in all, I dig jesus. I like his style.
What we really need to get to the root of, is the worlds most exciting unsolved mystery;
Who was Jesus' Dad ??
(Biological Dad)... On the one hand you've got Joseph (not it) and then there's God (beardy man who sits on a cloud)
Unless there was reallllllllllllly low fog around Bethlehem one day, I really don't see any physical possibilities of making love to a cloud. No matter how horny and alone you are - fog is just not going to cut it in any way.
So who was the mystery lover?? Some desert dweller? An ex-boyfriend? Cleary he was someone that Mary could not bear the thought of mentioning his name again, so opted for the road less travelled "magic baby" story.
The "magic baby" story just would not fly these days. Once you pull of the greatest 'magic baby' scam in history - anyone who follows in your footsteps is going to want to produce a pretty amazing kid to have that story believed.
You can't have a 'magic baby' and have that kid who never moves out of home who sits around taking apart radio transistors all day long, eating microwvave burritos, and dating on the internet. That just won't do.
They need to send in someone who can get the job done
Matthew McConaughey is a man who can get things done (shirtless) also if you look at his resume, he has good mystery solving skills (Sahaha/Fools Gold) Yes this is the man for the job. He can roam the lands in his khaki shorts with his bong and bongos, trying to solve the greatest mystery of all time and probably making some 'magic babies' of his own as he travels through villages searching for answers.
Dan Brown I think I just found your next book. Where's my cheque??
He must have been a very charismatic guy. Definitely knew how to related to people, could throw a decent party with all the fish and wine you'd ever need. He could heal your wounds, and run across the lake if you needed something. He wasn't a judgemental man and was open-minded about almost everything.
He was probably a bit whiffy from his bohemian homeless person lifestyle, but i'm sure that Jesus Sweat smells better than the finest perfumes across all the land..
(note to self.. make perfume called Jesus Sweat)
All in all, I dig jesus. I like his style.
What we really need to get to the root of, is the worlds most exciting unsolved mystery;
Who was Jesus' Dad ??
(Biological Dad)... On the one hand you've got Joseph (not it) and then there's God (beardy man who sits on a cloud)
Unless there was reallllllllllllly low fog around Bethlehem one day, I really don't see any physical possibilities of making love to a cloud. No matter how horny and alone you are - fog is just not going to cut it in any way.
So who was the mystery lover?? Some desert dweller? An ex-boyfriend? Cleary he was someone that Mary could not bear the thought of mentioning his name again, so opted for the road less travelled "magic baby" story.
The "magic baby" story just would not fly these days. Once you pull of the greatest 'magic baby' scam in history - anyone who follows in your footsteps is going to want to produce a pretty amazing kid to have that story believed.
You can't have a 'magic baby' and have that kid who never moves out of home who sits around taking apart radio transistors all day long, eating microwvave burritos, and dating on the internet. That just won't do.
They need to send in someone who can get the job done
Matthew McConaughey is a man who can get things done (shirtless) also if you look at his resume, he has good mystery solving skills (Sahaha/Fools Gold) Yes this is the man for the job. He can roam the lands in his khaki shorts with his bong and bongos, trying to solve the greatest mystery of all time and probably making some 'magic babies' of his own as he travels through villages searching for answers.
Dan Brown I think I just found your next book. Where's my cheque??
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
No Sir.. I Don't Like It
Why The Long Face??
OMG!!!!!! I have the worrrrst hangover of my life!!!!!! Do Not Even Speak To Me about anything right now.. Eghh what is this? An Orange! I need to contend with the Worlds Worst Horse Hangover with a freakin orange??
Get me some Berroca-Hay.. and make me a pot of coffee flavoured horse-water stat!
No Horse Rides Today
No Horse Rides At All
OMG!!!!!! I have the worrrrst hangover of my life!!!!!! Do Not Even Speak To Me about anything right now.. Eghh what is this? An Orange! I need to contend with the Worlds Worst Horse Hangover with a freakin orange??
Get me some Berroca-Hay.. and make me a pot of coffee flavoured horse-water stat!
No Horse Rides Today
No Horse Rides At All
Monday, May 25, 2009
Backwards World
Before I left on Holidays.. the night that Lenny almost died :(... I was at the vet at 2am, and having nothing better to do than stress out and flick through the macabre photo album of "lost loves ones" (pictures of peoples dead pets) I decided to weigh myself on the giant pet weighing device
64KG
These past three weeks, I have been eating the whole world; chocolate biscuits, cake, more biscuits, more cake, ice-creams, and my only exercise activity has been limited to; sunbaking, swinging in a hammock, going to the cupboard for biscuits...
I figured I will have put on at least 5KG in my time here.
However - today when we finally replaced the batteries in the scales, to my surprise I have not gained weight - but lost weight??!?!!!
WTF!!
61KG
What is up with Queensland?? Up is Down, Right is Left, Fat is Good, Hammocks burn Calories??
I wonder what else could happen in this crazy mixed up state?? Perhaps I should start applying for jobs here and I will become the CEO of a financial institution?? (maybe long division skills don't exist in QLD)
64KG
These past three weeks, I have been eating the whole world; chocolate biscuits, cake, more biscuits, more cake, ice-creams, and my only exercise activity has been limited to; sunbaking, swinging in a hammock, going to the cupboard for biscuits...
I figured I will have put on at least 5KG in my time here.
However - today when we finally replaced the batteries in the scales, to my surprise I have not gained weight - but lost weight??!?!!!
WTF!!
61KG
What is up with Queensland?? Up is Down, Right is Left, Fat is Good, Hammocks burn Calories??
I wonder what else could happen in this crazy mixed up state?? Perhaps I should start applying for jobs here and I will become the CEO of a financial institution?? (maybe long division skills don't exist in QLD)
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Blankets Anonymous
I woke up this morning with a startling realisation. I am 28 and I have a security blanket.
It was a wedding present, and it hasn't left my side since. It obviously become my wedding present as opposed to our wedding present. I would lie around in it naked for hours in our honeymoon bungalow - far preferring it's soft minky blankety goodness on my skin - than say... my husband's hands...
My name's Rachel and I'm a Blankaholic.
When I was packing my bags for my Cairns getaway, I had everything ready to go, then as a last decision (an obsessive compulsion) I quickly hid my black blanket in my hand-luggage. It felt like I had scratched an itch.
However - it's not just me who loves this blanket.. my husband obviously loves it but he should get his own - this is my blanket! (rule being that if it's your friend that gives you the blanket - then the blanket would be yours in the divorce, hence it's my blanket)
I didn't tell him that I had taken the blanket with me, so a week later when we're on the phone he's like "do you know where the black blanket is?"... "umm on my bed" ooooh caught.
He wanted it. Lenny wanted it (trust me if the blanket is lying around, you will find one purring cat hiding inside it at some stage), and now my mum's cat wants it.
My mum's cat has taken a liking to my security blanket. He would prefer to lie in a dark room, kneading my blanket and purring like a mofo - than be hugged and get some human affection on the couch. It's a sickness. This blanket is kryptonite.
So yeah.. I have a security blanket. It's not that weird is it??? It would be weird weird if I took it away to Europe with me this summer, as that is crossing the international boundaries of blanket lovin, it's taking it one step tooo far - when you would choose to pack a blanket for an overseas trip, than say.. clothes...
I just have to hope that there are suitable blankets in my travels over there.. or I might have to cut off a small square to carry around with me like a dity little secret in my pocket.
mmmmmmmmmmmmm Blaaaaaaaaankkkkkkketttttttt
(I can totally understand why Michael Jackson named his kid Blanket.. if he wasn't such a weirdo, i'd do the same thing)
It was a wedding present, and it hasn't left my side since. It obviously become my wedding present as opposed to our wedding present. I would lie around in it naked for hours in our honeymoon bungalow - far preferring it's soft minky blankety goodness on my skin - than say... my husband's hands...
My name's Rachel and I'm a Blankaholic.
When I was packing my bags for my Cairns getaway, I had everything ready to go, then as a last decision (an obsessive compulsion) I quickly hid my black blanket in my hand-luggage. It felt like I had scratched an itch.
However - it's not just me who loves this blanket.. my husband obviously loves it but he should get his own - this is my blanket! (rule being that if it's your friend that gives you the blanket - then the blanket would be yours in the divorce, hence it's my blanket)
I didn't tell him that I had taken the blanket with me, so a week later when we're on the phone he's like "do you know where the black blanket is?"... "umm on my bed" ooooh caught.
He wanted it. Lenny wanted it (trust me if the blanket is lying around, you will find one purring cat hiding inside it at some stage), and now my mum's cat wants it.
My mum's cat has taken a liking to my security blanket. He would prefer to lie in a dark room, kneading my blanket and purring like a mofo - than be hugged and get some human affection on the couch. It's a sickness. This blanket is kryptonite.
So yeah.. I have a security blanket. It's not that weird is it??? It would be weird weird if I took it away to Europe with me this summer, as that is crossing the international boundaries of blanket lovin, it's taking it one step tooo far - when you would choose to pack a blanket for an overseas trip, than say.. clothes...
I just have to hope that there are suitable blankets in my travels over there.. or I might have to cut off a small square to carry around with me like a dity little secret in my pocket.
mmmmmmmmmmmmm Blaaaaaaaaankkkkkkketttttttt
(I can totally understand why Michael Jackson named his kid Blanket.. if he wasn't such a weirdo, i'd do the same thing)
Friday, May 22, 2009
The Accidental Racist
Is it just me or does "the accidental racist" sounds like an awesome title for a film? My super dream hunk Jeff Goldblum could be in it.. plus it could be based on me - finally! my chance to shine!!!!!
So, I have to get it out there that I freakin love Japanese Tourists. I would go out on a limb to say I love all Japanese people, but I haven't been to Japan yet to see them in their natural habitat, but i'm sure I will love them over there as well.
Today I was sunning myself on the Great Barrier Reef - having a snorkle, chasing sea-turtles, scraping my body over coral reefs in the ridiculously low-tide - and also trying to pose good in photos that I was taking of myself with the self-timer on.
This one came out ok:
It's your typical posewhorey beach pose - but I was pretty stoked with my ingenius (one leg in the air!! who would have thought? I should be a photographer for Vogue)
THEN the Japanese arrived, and they put my one leg in the air effort to shame.
First of all - they had their own photographer!!!!!! Some older guy with a professional camera who they would screech at when they wanted a photo taken. And they weren't taking stupid 'lets stand here in front of the ocean' photos - they were doing some gymastic feats.
I spied with my little eye these girls doing a human pyramid.. then one girl would stand on another girls shoulders, then they would throw one girl in the air and catch her.. WTF! soooo awesome!!
I never take photos like this.. with my legs over my head.. i'm gonna start though! The Japanese have inspired me. For one - you never see a Japanese tourist having a bad time, or whinging about things.. sitting behind me on this lustrous island were some old farts (white hillbillys) who bitched about the Great Barrier Reef saying it wasn't that great, then one of the wiser hillbillys asked the main one had she gone in the water and she goes "NO!!" Pfffft. FAIL! They should do an eyeball scan on these people when they try to buy their tickets and then deny them entry.
"we don' take kindly to your type roun ere" but bring on the Japanese!!
They are just so super cute. One large breasted sun lover took her top off and the japanese men of all ages all ran down to the beach to take 'landscape shots' with her huge breasts in the foreground... ahhh.. memorrrrrries.
So I vow that on my European Vacation 09 in August this year, I will no longer stand in front of some dusty monument with "just take the fucking picture" face on. No I will be back-flippin, leg-spreadin, high-jumpin, my way allll over those historical sites.
Restetpa (respect)
So, I have to get it out there that I freakin love Japanese Tourists. I would go out on a limb to say I love all Japanese people, but I haven't been to Japan yet to see them in their natural habitat, but i'm sure I will love them over there as well.
Today I was sunning myself on the Great Barrier Reef - having a snorkle, chasing sea-turtles, scraping my body over coral reefs in the ridiculously low-tide - and also trying to pose good in photos that I was taking of myself with the self-timer on.
This one came out ok:
It's your typical posewhorey beach pose - but I was pretty stoked with my ingenius (one leg in the air!! who would have thought? I should be a photographer for Vogue)
THEN the Japanese arrived, and they put my one leg in the air effort to shame.
First of all - they had their own photographer!!!!!! Some older guy with a professional camera who they would screech at when they wanted a photo taken. And they weren't taking stupid 'lets stand here in front of the ocean' photos - they were doing some gymastic feats.
I spied with my little eye these girls doing a human pyramid.. then one girl would stand on another girls shoulders, then they would throw one girl in the air and catch her.. WTF! soooo awesome!!
I never take photos like this.. with my legs over my head.. i'm gonna start though! The Japanese have inspired me. For one - you never see a Japanese tourist having a bad time, or whinging about things.. sitting behind me on this lustrous island were some old farts (white hillbillys) who bitched about the Great Barrier Reef saying it wasn't that great, then one of the wiser hillbillys asked the main one had she gone in the water and she goes "NO!!" Pfffft. FAIL! They should do an eyeball scan on these people when they try to buy their tickets and then deny them entry.
"we don' take kindly to your type roun ere" but bring on the Japanese!!
They are just so super cute. One large breasted sun lover took her top off and the japanese men of all ages all ran down to the beach to take 'landscape shots' with her huge breasts in the foreground... ahhh.. memorrrrrries.
So I vow that on my European Vacation 09 in August this year, I will no longer stand in front of some dusty monument with "just take the fucking picture" face on. No I will be back-flippin, leg-spreadin, high-jumpin, my way allll over those historical sites.
Restetpa (respect)
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Reality Ugly
You know what's really dumb - when you watch an ad on tv, and its full of ugly "real" people. People with saggy boobs and fug heads, like they are going to trick you into buying their stupid car or joining their dumb bank because they have 'real' people in their ads.
I'm not that stupid. I know they're extras. Or they are just badly paid second rate actors who got sucked into being in an ugly reality ad.
Is it too much to ask that tv be peppered with good looking people? Isn't it supposed to be an escape from reality? if I wanted to see ugly people at the bank - I'd walk to the bank.
Aids.
You know what else gets my goat - when bitches you hate from high school want to hook up just because you happen to be overseas at the same time. Let's get one thing straight here I went to two different high-schools.
1 x Excellent High School
1 x Mediocre School
The mediocre high school was povo. We had teachers with no idea who would write one thing on the blackboard then disappear for the lesson. When I started half way through year 10 - I came first in most of my classes, even having missed out on half the curriculum?? Go Figure. However the company I kept made up for all the lacks in my education - as they were the best people in the world, and most are still my BFF's to this day, and even the ones that I don't speak to often I would still high 5 in the street as opposed to reaching for something sharp to shove up their nose into their brain cavity (coming up)....Quality over Qantity.. or something.. how should I know ?? - like I just said - my school was shit
The excellent high school - whilst having extremely high standards of academic achievement - was an all girls school who aside from about 2 people (BFF's) were all psycho bitches who I long to see under the smelly side of a garbage truck. Sooooo many bitches, not enough words. But imagine these situations: coming to school one day to find a note in your locker from your 'best friend' saying she doesnt want to be friends with you anymore, and had other girls in the class sign it and add their opinions as well... there is just something sick and wrong about All Girls Schools, like all that pent up sexual frustration turns inwards and they deal with it by being the worlds biggest cunt someone else.
Which is why it perplexes me when people suggest meeting up for drinks just cos you happen to be in London at the same time.. are you kidding?! I hate this Ho.
Yeah I'm a grudge holder.
To be honest I can't even remember why I hate this girl, only that I do, and so therefore I must have a good reason (it's ok - she hates me too - so we are equally retarded on all accounts)
No Drinks for You!
I'm not that stupid. I know they're extras. Or they are just badly paid second rate actors who got sucked into being in an ugly reality ad.
Is it too much to ask that tv be peppered with good looking people? Isn't it supposed to be an escape from reality? if I wanted to see ugly people at the bank - I'd walk to the bank.
Aids.
You know what else gets my goat - when bitches you hate from high school want to hook up just because you happen to be overseas at the same time. Let's get one thing straight here I went to two different high-schools.
1 x Excellent High School
1 x Mediocre School
The mediocre high school was povo. We had teachers with no idea who would write one thing on the blackboard then disappear for the lesson. When I started half way through year 10 - I came first in most of my classes, even having missed out on half the curriculum?? Go Figure. However the company I kept made up for all the lacks in my education - as they were the best people in the world, and most are still my BFF's to this day, and even the ones that I don't speak to often I would still high 5 in the street as opposed to reaching for something sharp to shove up their nose into their brain cavity (coming up)....Quality over Qantity.. or something.. how should I know ?? - like I just said - my school was shit
The excellent high school - whilst having extremely high standards of academic achievement - was an all girls school who aside from about 2 people (BFF's) were all psycho bitches who I long to see under the smelly side of a garbage truck. Sooooo many bitches, not enough words. But imagine these situations: coming to school one day to find a note in your locker from your 'best friend' saying she doesnt want to be friends with you anymore, and had other girls in the class sign it and add their opinions as well... there is just something sick and wrong about All Girls Schools, like all that pent up sexual frustration turns inwards and they deal with it by being the worlds biggest cunt someone else.
Which is why it perplexes me when people suggest meeting up for drinks just cos you happen to be in London at the same time.. are you kidding?! I hate this Ho.
Yeah I'm a grudge holder.
To be honest I can't even remember why I hate this girl, only that I do, and so therefore I must have a good reason (it's ok - she hates me too - so we are equally retarded on all accounts)
No Drinks for You!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Cairns.. Week 2
So, whilst I have nothing to do - I thought what better place to do nothing than in sunny Cairns in QLD. Apparently though - god had different plans so thwarted my attempts at being brown, so made clouds appear every day - now everytime a sunbeam appears I have to resist the urge to run outside naked and bask in cooking oil to get the maximum benefits.
Cairns would be a great place to raise kids I reckon - because lets face it if I had a kid back in Sydney the most exciting things we would get up to would be to walk outside the apartment building and collect the mail together.
Yet up in QLD there is a whole plethora of outdoor activities for one to enjoy: ie DIGGING A HOLE
To the layman - this would look like i'm just laying in a dirty disgusting puddle - I am actually lying in a Hot Spring. These so called 'hot springs' are about a 2 hour drive from Cairns (through a mystical hinterland) and right next to a truckstop.
So you pull up at the truckstop and the driver says "Ok - we're here" and you say "I'm not digging a hole at a truck stop" and then you burn your feet off as you wander down stream to find a good hole diggin opportunity.
The thing with Hot Springs, is that there is noone regulating the temperatures, so when you are new and stupid to the game - you stick your leg into a nice looking puddle and all your skin burns off because the water has been steaming nicely with a little help from a volcano and is about 100 degrees. (who needs feet? maybe i could get a disability pension??)
Once you stop being a moron though and start diggin it is very worthwhile and relaxing - and it is a well known fact that sitting in any warm body of water will burn excess calories right off! I think I need to perculate for about a week and half then I would be down to my goal weight - Dangerously Anorexic.
If being boiled alive isn't your thing - you could go to another magical place where you can molest the Wallaby's. Wallaby's are wayy better than your regular Kangaroos, for one - they are a lot smaller so its easier to envision stealing one in your handbag and keeping it at home in the laundry as a pet.
Another small drive out of Cairns will take you to Wallaby Mountain - where they lie around all day like lazy sods, until a busload of tourists arrive and feed them mountains of pellets. Unfortunately I had no pellets to offer, so they let me pat them for a minute, inspected my bag, then avoided me as I had nothing of use to offer (bitches)
Where I am living is right near a beach. The general consensus is that tropical north queensland is land of blue water and white sandy beaches. Yeah we have plenty of sand to go round - but unfortunately, if you want blue water you have to catch a ferry about an hour out to sea, as the water in this part of the world is brown. Brown Brown Brown. I don't mind - except when i'm swimming in it, and that small part of my brain which cant see the water around me thinks there is a giant crocodile or shark about to eat me, so I swim further in and sit in another brown murky puddle and dig myself a hole.
I have another week here, so I am going to bide my time wisely - by sitting in the hammock as much as possible, reading books about the Holocaust, and riding my pushbike around the block a million times (go bum muscles!)
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Plans
Ok - so I'm at a literal crossroads in my life - gotta have a plan. This is it:
PLAN A: find another job within my field of knowledge and experience in the 'industry' - however this time not working in some skank's filthy loungeroom, and not having to clean out crusty oil burners. Ideally working with two hilarious homosexuals, who like to go shopping and have long lunches, and we can sit around and gossip about the clients and what parties we are gonna go to, and have drinks every friday and have sleepovers... but do proper work amongst all of that. This time I want business cards/a reason to wear clothes nicer than pyjamas to work/and people I dont want to stab working within 30 centimeters of me.
PLAN B: Go back to Uni and be like Pauly Shore from 'Son in Law' and never graduate and live life like one big partyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This would be great. I could do loads of useless Graduate Diplomas and hang at Uni Bars, and join Uni Rallys, go to Uni Dances, and wear high waisted jeans and scrunchies.
PLAN C: Graduate, and get a job as a secondary school Drama Teacher "Welcome to Mr G's room, G's Room, G's Room, Welcome to Mr G's room, come inside" Obvs I would have to do a Dip Ed in Teaching whilst on my party bender, and then I could go to my calling as a weird drama teacher. I think this would be most fun. "Now lets all be trees" and also having my vast experience in the world of actors I could sit them down and tell em truth "you with the moustache! yeah stacy.. pick another career" (its harsh, but true. Nida don't want no hairies) Plus then I would finally have a captive audience to perform in front of all day long, and I suppose 'teach' the art of being a soulful weirdo.
PLAN D: Have a kid. Can't be too hard. Plus it would be fun to have someone to walk to the shops with and talk to - even if they arent talking back ,and are just spewing and farting all over the place. It's probably no worse than hanging out with a really old person all day long.. also could sell it to some childless couple in Sweden.
PLAN E: Ski with the Trees. Everyone knows how dangerous it is to Ski with the Trees (Sonny Bono - i'm lookin in your direction) so as a final resort I could Ski with the Trees, on the downside you will probably die, but on the upside - if you just cripple yourself really badly - you'll probably get a cripple pension to live on, an then I could move somewhere and design a house with ramps and no doors.... (and get really good upper body strength and compete in Murderball)
Good Work! A +
PLAN A: find another job within my field of knowledge and experience in the 'industry' - however this time not working in some skank's filthy loungeroom, and not having to clean out crusty oil burners. Ideally working with two hilarious homosexuals, who like to go shopping and have long lunches, and we can sit around and gossip about the clients and what parties we are gonna go to, and have drinks every friday and have sleepovers... but do proper work amongst all of that. This time I want business cards/a reason to wear clothes nicer than pyjamas to work/and people I dont want to stab working within 30 centimeters of me.
PLAN B: Go back to Uni and be like Pauly Shore from 'Son in Law' and never graduate and live life like one big partyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This would be great. I could do loads of useless Graduate Diplomas and hang at Uni Bars, and join Uni Rallys, go to Uni Dances, and wear high waisted jeans and scrunchies.
PLAN C: Graduate, and get a job as a secondary school Drama Teacher "Welcome to Mr G's room, G's Room, G's Room, Welcome to Mr G's room, come inside" Obvs I would have to do a Dip Ed in Teaching whilst on my party bender, and then I could go to my calling as a weird drama teacher. I think this would be most fun. "Now lets all be trees" and also having my vast experience in the world of actors I could sit them down and tell em truth "you with the moustache! yeah stacy.. pick another career" (its harsh, but true. Nida don't want no hairies) Plus then I would finally have a captive audience to perform in front of all day long, and I suppose 'teach' the art of being a soulful weirdo.
PLAN D: Have a kid. Can't be too hard. Plus it would be fun to have someone to walk to the shops with and talk to - even if they arent talking back ,and are just spewing and farting all over the place. It's probably no worse than hanging out with a really old person all day long.. also could sell it to some childless couple in Sweden.
PLAN E: Ski with the Trees. Everyone knows how dangerous it is to Ski with the Trees (Sonny Bono - i'm lookin in your direction) so as a final resort I could Ski with the Trees, on the downside you will probably die, but on the upside - if you just cripple yourself really badly - you'll probably get a cripple pension to live on, an then I could move somewhere and design a house with ramps and no doors.... (and get really good upper body strength and compete in Murderball)
Good Work! A +
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Vegas & The Prawn
In highlight news: Lenny is at home!!!!!!!!! Convalescing on the couch. Being a big sook. But that is ok, because Mr Man MD (the nurse) is taking good care of him.
This couldn't have come at a worse time really. Does a cat really need to ingest venlafaxine the morning that I am due to fly out to Cairns for 3 weeks for a tropical sunshine holiday? I just wish I was there to monitor every move he makes. I want to rub his head, feed him water, help him poo. If society lets me - when I get back I am going to wear lenny around in a sling meant for newborns, strapped to my chest at all times.
It is really hard when an animal gets sick. I am sick with worry. Hammering up a fence won't take my mind off it, nor will riding a bike to the shops and back. Unfortunately I have a very high emotional attachment to anything cute and furry. But this doesn't just stop at cats. I feel sorry for discarded fluffy toys on the road. "ooh poor thing! it'll be so cold and lonely!" I always have to resist the urge to rescue roadside toys. I cant even tell you the heartache I endure going into a salvation army store and walking through the soft toys section "nooo! they are so sad! they need homes! well at least they have each other to talk to"
That is why when I saw that fluffy fur coat hanging in the Salvation Army store, I simply had to bring it home with me. It was too sad to leave it alone in that shop. Yes even clothes have feelings in my opinion.
So today when i'm walking around a market at Cairns and we come across a box of Yabbies (essentially for human consumption) I had to rescue one.
Welcome Home Pinchy!!!!!!
No longer do you need to fear the smell of garlic and butter! No more will you rest in a box with a billion of your brothers and sisters! I will save you!!!!!!!
Unfortunately I don't think Pinchy wanted to be saved.
He's already tried to commit suicide once.
He turns his nose up at the food on offer: sourdough/chilli beef, and tries to escape at every chance, and waves his pinchy claws at us if we get too close. Where's the regard Pinchy??
My only hope is that Pinchy and the cat (Vegas) form a bond, whereby they go about solving crimes and helping neighbourhood animals by being a team of misfit investigators.
It could happen..
I picture Pinchy having some Swiss/French accent, whilst Vegas is a bit like Ray Romano, and not wanting to go along with Pinchy's schemes, but does anyway - because Pinchy will nag and nag and pinch you until you agree
Vegas & The Prawn
Fighting for another day
Let your problems float away
Vegas & The Prawn
Vegas & The Prawn
This couldn't have come at a worse time really. Does a cat really need to ingest venlafaxine the morning that I am due to fly out to Cairns for 3 weeks for a tropical sunshine holiday? I just wish I was there to monitor every move he makes. I want to rub his head, feed him water, help him poo. If society lets me - when I get back I am going to wear lenny around in a sling meant for newborns, strapped to my chest at all times.
It is really hard when an animal gets sick. I am sick with worry. Hammering up a fence won't take my mind off it, nor will riding a bike to the shops and back. Unfortunately I have a very high emotional attachment to anything cute and furry. But this doesn't just stop at cats. I feel sorry for discarded fluffy toys on the road. "ooh poor thing! it'll be so cold and lonely!" I always have to resist the urge to rescue roadside toys. I cant even tell you the heartache I endure going into a salvation army store and walking through the soft toys section "nooo! they are so sad! they need homes! well at least they have each other to talk to"
That is why when I saw that fluffy fur coat hanging in the Salvation Army store, I simply had to bring it home with me. It was too sad to leave it alone in that shop. Yes even clothes have feelings in my opinion.
So today when i'm walking around a market at Cairns and we come across a box of Yabbies (essentially for human consumption) I had to rescue one.
Welcome Home Pinchy!!!!!!
No longer do you need to fear the smell of garlic and butter! No more will you rest in a box with a billion of your brothers and sisters! I will save you!!!!!!!
Unfortunately I don't think Pinchy wanted to be saved.
He's already tried to commit suicide once.
He turns his nose up at the food on offer: sourdough/chilli beef, and tries to escape at every chance, and waves his pinchy claws at us if we get too close. Where's the regard Pinchy??
My only hope is that Pinchy and the cat (Vegas) form a bond, whereby they go about solving crimes and helping neighbourhood animals by being a team of misfit investigators.
It could happen..
I picture Pinchy having some Swiss/French accent, whilst Vegas is a bit like Ray Romano, and not wanting to go along with Pinchy's schemes, but does anyway - because Pinchy will nag and nag and pinch you until you agree
Vegas & The Prawn
Fighting for another day
Let your problems float away
Vegas & The Prawn
Vegas & The Prawn
Thursday, May 07, 2009
The Cats in the Cradle
Well my cat ate a pill just the other day,
I truly didn't mean it to turn out this way,
I was packing my bags cos I was goin away,
And he ate the pill when I was lookin away,
I looked at his eyes and they were kinda wild,
I said I'll take you the vet if you don't mind,
I'm gonna take you to the vet yeah,
I'm gonna take you to the vet.
And Lenny's at the vet, in a yucky room,
There's a russian blue, and a pregnant baboon,
"when you coming home?"
Len I don't know when.
We'll get together then
You know we'll have a good time then.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
I can't live. If living is without you..
I often wonder, who was Mariah Carey singing about when she sang "Without You".. some dude?
I cant live
If living is without you
I cant live
I cant give anymore
I cant liiiiiiiiiiiiive
If living is without yooooooooooou
But now I know, she was probably singing about her cat -who accidentally ate her medication and had to be taken to the vet at 2am
As that is what happened to Lenman last night, and I can. not. function. at the thought of something bad happening and having to go through life without him.
I would seriously take a bullet for that cat.
I don't care if it cost $30,000 to fix him. I would pay it. I would sell a kidney. I would do very bad things to ensure his survival.
Is it wrong to have a best-friend that is a cat? I don't think so. I spend hours with that cat. We nap together, we hang out together, we sleep all night together, we spoon together, he even eats tacos with us at the table! He is as close to human you can get, except way cuter and furrier.
Oh man, I seriously can't live. If livin is without lenman... I can't liiiive. I live anymooooore!
Get Better Lenman
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I cant live
If living is without you
I cant live
I cant give anymore
I cant liiiiiiiiiiiiive
If living is without yooooooooooou
But now I know, she was probably singing about her cat -who accidentally ate her medication and had to be taken to the vet at 2am
As that is what happened to Lenman last night, and I can. not. function. at the thought of something bad happening and having to go through life without him.
I would seriously take a bullet for that cat.
I don't care if it cost $30,000 to fix him. I would pay it. I would sell a kidney. I would do very bad things to ensure his survival.
Is it wrong to have a best-friend that is a cat? I don't think so. I spend hours with that cat. We nap together, we hang out together, we sleep all night together, we spoon together, he even eats tacos with us at the table! He is as close to human you can get, except way cuter and furrier.
Oh man, I seriously can't live. If livin is without lenman... I can't liiiive. I live anymooooore!
Get Better Lenman
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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