In the moment

I'm at work, staring at the screen mindlessly, shifting images around and around.

And I'm listening to the Romeo+ Juliet soundtrack on the ipod. It's playing 'Kissing you' by Des'ree.

The music suddenly soars "touch me dear.. pure and true". And the sun suddenly comes out and shines on my face bathing me and the screen in gold.

Life is not perfect, but it sometimes sends you these little moments which you savour.

Appreciating the drunk dial

Well I don't know about you, but when I'm drunk I'm a flagrant smser. It used to be phone calls "Hi! I'm out at Mink/Space/Random horrible club! Do you loooooooooooooooooooooooove me??" And when they didn't profess their love straight away [Saffron, SB I'm looking at you] I would get upset and the night would end in tears, so I switched to drunk smsing which was less likely to end up with the person on the other end shouting "I CAN'T HEAR YOU! .. LOVE..?"

Anyway, I don't know why but I really appreciate people drunk dialling me. I know most people find them annoying and they usually come at 2am on a saturday morning [when us good, clean people are sleeping.. ahem] but I really really like them. I think for some bizarre twisted reason it shows me that they care and in the middle of a slushy brain that they are thinking of me. Also you usually hear things you would never hear in 'sober' time during a drunk dial- like how much the person misses you or random giggling over the word cucumber or something. Cu.. cum..ber... well they are randomly giggling, you just smirk and think how much fun it is to tease them tomorrow.

And then in the morning you say: hows your head? Do you remember any of last night?
And they always say: No, what happened last night?! what did I say? OMG. What did I say?

Dr Phil is not helping

So I have a week off work and I have Dr Phil playing in the background because I miss crappy daytime tv. And I can vaguely hearing him lecturing some poor woman on overfeeding her child junk food.

I can hear.. wrong.. junk food.. blah blah.. rubbish.. tacobell.. chicken.. chips...bad... food..

I don't know if his intended effect was to make me run for a packet of deep fried chips but it did. Don't you think it's a complete failure on his part if just listening to his speech makes me want to eat junk food?

There used to be Taco bells everywhere, and for some reason Australians don't like Mexican food. So they didn't they packed it up really quickly, but I miss those chips with the mayonnaise and the tomato toppings.

To the makers of photoshop. Please die.

And now you know how badly I despise it, when I post the title in caps. And how often does that happen? NEVER. Do I sound distressed? I'm distressed.

WHY CAN'T YOU JUST FUCKING MOVE TYPE IN PHOTOSHOP? Oh, sure you can type but you can't fucking fucking ever move it again. It just sits there like a dead monkey on a beach. So you have to delete the whole goddamn layer and retype it TO REALIGN IT??? So what I'm supposed to spend the whole day typing and retyping paragraphs until it sits properly?? Get fucked photoshop.

WHY CAN'T I JUST DRAW A GODDAMN RECTANGLE AND FILL IT IN WITH THE COLOUR I WANT?????? NOT BLACK. Stop automatically filling it in for me, you piece of shit cocksucker. I don't want black, I want blue I'd like my outline to be blue. Do you get that? Do you? Why make it so GODDAMN hard for me to draw a FUCKING RECTANGLE??? A COLOURED RECTANGLE. I'm trying to FUCKING DRAW A RECTANGLE not send rockets into space.

Layers. Layers. Layers. I have five items on my page and twenty layers, I'm thinking that my intensely simple webpage is going to have fifteen hundred FUCKING MILLION LAYERS by the time I've finished. FUCK OFF WITH YOUR FUCKING LAYERS, YOU HOEBAGS.

Please makers of photoshop, won't you die in a fire so I can throw popcorn in and laugh as you burn? I hope all your descendants are hideous mutants and have to use all the profits from your SUBSTANDARD product to fix their faces. I hope every car you ever drive crashes. And every thing you eat has hair in it. You will never be happy- you abysmal profiteering pissheads.

Love, Mush

Too Much Information

So I finally have a day off and I'm lounging around the house waiting for Mexicana [which by late afternoon I'm starting to think is a lost cause] and I'm calling everybody I can think of who would be free on a friday morning.

Well I haven't seen Lamp girl in a while. Ring ring ring. Nothing.

Five hours later:

Me: Hello?

Lamp girl: Hi babes, you were looking for me?

Me: Oh yeah, I was wondering if you were free this morning but it's ok now

Lamp girl: Oh I couldn't pick up this morning cos when you called I was having sex.

Me: [pause.. pause.. pause].. Haha! Well you get back to it! Bye!

All hail the reigning queen of the awkward silence, me. Maaaaan, why just randomly come up with that? Shouldn't you at least have some sort of buffer about the weather? I'm no prude but I have to get warmed up for penis talk, you just can't put it to me on the 2nd sentence in. Ok, maybe I am a prude. I'm a nun. Nuts.