1. I can't draw straight lines which is why I almost failed technical drawing in high school [almost!]
2. I like wearing really bright colours, so on a day when you catch me wearing black- it's a really good idea to steer clear.
3. I like driving people home.
4. I can't click my fingers and make a clicking noise. It makes a dull whoosh sound instead. I must have flat fingers because it makes people laugh when I try.
5. I want to drive across Russia. I haven't found anybody to support the idea yet because they're too busy worrying I'll be kidnapped by [Russian] bandits. Or eaten by wolves.
6. I think four years of catholic school actually did me some good ethically.
7. I have a really good head for useless trivia- I think I would be good on the show "The Rich List"
8. The first time I ever snuck into a pub was when I was seventeen. It was the Orient at the Rocks- I've never been back inside since.
9. If I had Paris Hilton's money, I would also probably buy close to the same amount of clothing. I would not however buy seven chiuhuahuas.
10. I had a nose piercing and have a tattoo because people told me not to. I would probably jump off a cliff if you told me not to.
11. My supervisor once said I act like a robot. It didn't make me serve customers any less robotically.
12. I breathe a sigh of relief when my friends tell me they read they read this blog .. which leads to..
13. I think my blog should be more famous than it is [ha!]
14. I can recite the dialogue between Jack and Rose of the Titanic right before he floats off and dies
15. I am scared of hairballs, cockroaches and the dark.
16. I think my dog is a feminist because I am a feminist.
17. I think that there is more to deja vu than just a brain spasm.
18. One of my goals was to sit on the Wheel of Fortune wheel and spin around. In my heart of hearts I don't ever think it will ever really happen.
19. On my break at work, I like to go to the harbour and stare at the fishes and jellyfish. You will often find me with my shoes off on the edge of the wharf.. which leads to..
20. I often worry about dropping my shoes in the water and having to explain to my supervisor why I have no shoes
21. If I correct your grammar it's only because I care!
22. I never ate pork buns again after watching that movie on the killer who turned people into buns and sold them in his restaurant. I was eleven. It was my fault for watching it when I knew I wasn't supposed to.
23. My new favourite song is Paper Planes by MIA. I turn it up really loudly in the car and it was always freaks out whoevers driving next to me [especially old people!]
24. Cucumber soju always makes me really drunk and always has disastrous consequences.
25. This list was already produced on facebook. I'm sorry if you're doing a re-read. I will post some pictures of my birthday tomorrow.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Tokyo Ninjas
On a discussion of lost Tokyo Disney Souvenirs
Mush: You have a hat like that already, its a mickey mouse hat
Mexicana: oh yea, I don't know where it went
Mush: I don't know where my gloves went either. I presume that Tokyo Disney has like ninjas that go into customers houses that take back the souvenirs to Tokyo Disney and resell them
Mexicana: Totally plausible
Mush: [to Sb] what do you think?
SB: I don't think so
Mush: It's Japan, they have ninjas. [pause] Yakuza ninjas.
SB: [Rolls his eyes. Hard]
Mush: You can't explain where the souvenirs went!
Mush: You have a hat like that already, its a mickey mouse hat
Mexicana: oh yea, I don't know where it went
Mush: I don't know where my gloves went either. I presume that Tokyo Disney has like ninjas that go into customers houses that take back the souvenirs to Tokyo Disney and resell them
Mexicana: Totally plausible
Mush: [to Sb] what do you think?
SB: I don't think so
Mush: It's Japan, they have ninjas. [pause] Yakuza ninjas.
SB: [Rolls his eyes. Hard]
Mush: You can't explain where the souvenirs went!
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Sarsparilla Memories
I was with MD today [who by the way loves this blog, so I can rest on my laurels now] and we made our way to a Vietnamese restaurant which had... sarsparilla! on its menu. For my American readers, you guys have root beer everyday so it's not a big thing for you [so says my encyclopaedic Dennis the Menace knowledge] but I haven't had sarsparilla since I was a little kid and so it was a big thing for me and I was counting down the minutes til I popped open the can and could ruminate nostalgically on how good the beverages of my childhood were.
[I know I'm talking like I'm about to open my coffin and lay down. Shut up.]
Well firstly the can was warm which I guess is standard fare in an Asian restaurant [something about Asians having sensitive gums] and it was much flatter than I remembered. I don't know if it was the particular brand but it didn't have the tang of my childhood memories and it was distinctly more licorice-y.
I knew however that if I had ordered coke then I would have thought longingly about drinking sarsparilla all night and I would be writing now about my regret of not drinking that beverage. So in a way it was fate, the sarsparilla can and I were destined to meet in this way.
If you ask me .. how is that fate, you crazy nutso? Well what were the chances of that one can ending up in my paw and tainting my memories with licorice aftertaste I tell you??
So thanks Ace Sarsi for killing off one of my fond childhood memories! and putting me one step closer to just drinking sugarfree energy drinks 24/7 [No, diet coke doesn't count]
..
Of course I realise that if that is really what sarsparilla tastes like, then I'm pretty sure I figured why it died in popularity in Australia. Yerk.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
How Rice Balls ruined my New Year
So yesterday was Chinese New Year and you're supposed to spend the entire day thinking good thoughts. I don't think I've ever had so many bad thoughts in my entire life.
Most of them directed towards family and glutinous objects.
We had had a big family dinner the night before so New Year was supposed to be a bit more low key. I guess we could be mean, and say that it was beyond low key and had entered the zone of no key. My Aunty cooked three dishes, it was a bowl of prawns [I think there was about fifteen in there], a plate of bok choy and a fish. We're talking about for six people here, so my cousins and I hadn't even started eating when they decided to throw a lasagne in the oven for good measure.
I'm staring at my bowl of rice [please sir, can I have some more? More?!] when my mum asks me why I'm not eating.. I look at her like she's crazy and say [a touch bitterly] "I'm allergic.. to prawns" which left just the vegetables and my rice as the fish hadn't come out.
Please tell me how I reached twenty five and my mum hasn't realised I'm allergic to prawns?? How am I not dead yet??
So I'm hanging out on the couch, waiting to go home because I'm due to meet Sb to watch 'Slumdog Millionaire' and also I'm hungry. Hungry! I want to go and get some sushi or something. [which oddly also consists of rice, fish and vegetables... ]
And my mum comes out with "We're not going home yet because she's making rice balls [tong yuen]"
"Oh." So I very politely wait another hour [and by this time my phone has run out of battery and I think it would be better for Sb to pick me up there instead so we don't miss the session] when those tong yuen are finally finished. And I'm flicking through an old Sweet Valley [!] book, when my mum asks me if I want any.
... deep breath.. I hate glutinous food. Anybody who even remotely knows me knows that anything sticky- mochi- rice cakes- rice balls- red bean paste- floury squishy stuff makes me want to gag. That stuff just closes around my throat and won't go down. I LOATHE it and everyone in a fifty mile radius knows it. Except for some reason my mum.
So with as much patience as I can muster, I say "I hate tong yuen" [Sorry, I still think it's nicer than "I fucking hate tong yuen, and if you pass it to me I will take one bite and then puke it on the couch and how come you don't know this?!"]
She looks at me concernedly, and then I get this sharp epiphany that my mum and I are only connected by blood and nothing else. We don't know each other at all. The moment passes and she says mildly "oh, that was the only reason we were staying, I don't like tong yuen that much either"
And then my stepdad goes "errr.. why are we still here then?"
My mum makes her excuses to leave by saying she has to go feed Minnie. "Ai.. that poor dog hasn't had any dinner yet"
And then my aunty says something along the lines of "Don't ever get another dog, why are you the one stuck taking care of it?"
And there are my hackles- they are up and they are not going down.
She then turns to me and says something admonishing, in all honesty I cannot for the life of me remember what it was, something about being irresponsible. and dogs. Or Sb. Something.
so I look at her and say "gum dim leh?" [translation: "ok... and?" or "ok... point?"]
I say goodbye to my mum and I'm putting my shoes on out on the porch [and by the way it's pissing down rain] when my mum comes back and says to me "did your aunty give you your red packet?" and I say "No, its ok.. save it for next time"
And my mum goes in to ask her for it and I hear "I don't want to give it to her!" and my mum comes out and I'm still struggling to get my shoes on, my cousin J is standing in the doorway while I wait and then I hear "Close the door!" and my cousin J is "Mish is standing in the rain waiting for Sb"
"Don't push your luck!" and then the door slams.
Oh, I've finally managed to jam my feet into my converses at this point. And then my mum starts in on me. "Why did you have to ask her what her point is?? She's older than you! Aren't you coming home with me?? Why do you have to get Sb to pick you up??" and she begins to nag until I can feel an internal haemorrage coming on.
"Alright! alright! fuck! I will get in your car and I will tell him to pick me up at home!"
"Why do you have to get him to pick you up in the first place??"
My eyes then begin to slowly do spirals.
Just at that moment, Sb pulls up and I throw myself out of the car- rocket launcher style [ever seen a rocket-launcher come out of a car?]
And I know that I'm in no mood for a movie- uplifting or otherwise and I ask him to take me home. I'm quiet in the car but I can feel those hackles are not going to go down anytime soon.
When we get to my place, I ask him if he wants to come in- Mush vs Mum- first fight of the New Year. He politely declines [that's right, you no longer have an obligation to watch my dysfunctional family do dysfunctional things. Run, you stupid boy, run!]
And then we get down to it inside.
Mum: you were rude to her! She's elder than you!
Mush: They were three words! and not even rude words -She's lucky I didn't tell her to fuck off!
Mum: She's your aunty!
Mush: It's none of her business!
Stepdad: Stop fighting.. [realises it's not going to happen, then exits taking the dog with him]
Mum: And anyway, how can you be so cruel to Sb by getting him to drive you home like that?!
Mush: WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GO SOMEWHERE
Mum: Oh. Well, how would I know that?
Mush: Do you really think that I'm that cruel? That I would get him to come all the way from the fricking countryside to drive me home for five minutes?
Mum: Actually I think you would, you're very good at it.
And then the conversation halted and I just stared at her and there was that feeling again. That she doesn't know me at all, that we're two people who happen to be connected by blood but nothing else.
Mush: Get out
And then she left.
----
Sorry, this is kind of a long post isn't it? It was a night bore out of misunderstandings and more misunderstandings and incredibly pointless fighting. But it really helped me to gain some insight into the relationships with my family which I don't think I previously had. Look, I've always said that I put my friends before my family- this is because I have never felt able to count on my family in my times of need. They are not there, and they are not who I talk to. And I don't know if it's a generational thing or a cultural thing but out of their well intentioned advice always comes a metaphorical storm.
I was discussing politics with my uncle one time and when I moved away she asked me what we were talking about. I replied politics and she laughed "as if you would talk about things like that" and that stung. It was like a slap. I'm constantly surprised by not even how little she knows me but how little she thinks of me.
And as for my aunty, family always lets family stand out in the rain you know?
Most of them directed towards family and glutinous objects.
We had had a big family dinner the night before so New Year was supposed to be a bit more low key. I guess we could be mean, and say that it was beyond low key and had entered the zone of no key. My Aunty cooked three dishes, it was a bowl of prawns [I think there was about fifteen in there], a plate of bok choy and a fish. We're talking about for six people here, so my cousins and I hadn't even started eating when they decided to throw a lasagne in the oven for good measure.
I'm staring at my bowl of rice [please sir, can I have some more? More?!] when my mum asks me why I'm not eating.. I look at her like she's crazy and say [a touch bitterly] "I'm allergic.. to prawns" which left just the vegetables and my rice as the fish hadn't come out.
Please tell me how I reached twenty five and my mum hasn't realised I'm allergic to prawns?? How am I not dead yet??
So I'm hanging out on the couch, waiting to go home because I'm due to meet Sb to watch 'Slumdog Millionaire' and also I'm hungry. Hungry! I want to go and get some sushi or something. [which oddly also consists of rice, fish and vegetables... ]
And my mum comes out with "We're not going home yet because she's making rice balls [tong yuen]"
"Oh." So I very politely wait another hour [and by this time my phone has run out of battery and I think it would be better for Sb to pick me up there instead so we don't miss the session] when those tong yuen are finally finished. And I'm flicking through an old Sweet Valley [!] book, when my mum asks me if I want any.
... deep breath.. I hate glutinous food. Anybody who even remotely knows me knows that anything sticky- mochi- rice cakes- rice balls- red bean paste- floury squishy stuff makes me want to gag. That stuff just closes around my throat and won't go down. I LOATHE it and everyone in a fifty mile radius knows it. Except for some reason my mum.
So with as much patience as I can muster, I say "I hate tong yuen" [Sorry, I still think it's nicer than "I fucking hate tong yuen, and if you pass it to me I will take one bite and then puke it on the couch and how come you don't know this?!"]
She looks at me concernedly, and then I get this sharp epiphany that my mum and I are only connected by blood and nothing else. We don't know each other at all. The moment passes and she says mildly "oh, that was the only reason we were staying, I don't like tong yuen that much either"
And then my stepdad goes "errr.. why are we still here then?"
My mum makes her excuses to leave by saying she has to go feed Minnie. "Ai.. that poor dog hasn't had any dinner yet"
And then my aunty says something along the lines of "Don't ever get another dog, why are you the one stuck taking care of it?"
And there are my hackles- they are up and they are not going down.
She then turns to me and says something admonishing, in all honesty I cannot for the life of me remember what it was, something about being irresponsible. and dogs. Or Sb. Something.
so I look at her and say "gum dim leh?" [translation: "ok... and?" or "ok... point?"]
I say goodbye to my mum and I'm putting my shoes on out on the porch [and by the way it's pissing down rain] when my mum comes back and says to me "did your aunty give you your red packet?" and I say "No, its ok.. save it for next time"
And my mum goes in to ask her for it and I hear "I don't want to give it to her!" and my mum comes out and I'm still struggling to get my shoes on, my cousin J is standing in the doorway while I wait and then I hear "Close the door!" and my cousin J is "Mish is standing in the rain waiting for Sb"
"Don't push your luck!" and then the door slams.
Oh, I've finally managed to jam my feet into my converses at this point. And then my mum starts in on me. "Why did you have to ask her what her point is?? She's older than you! Aren't you coming home with me?? Why do you have to get Sb to pick you up??" and she begins to nag until I can feel an internal haemorrage coming on.
"Alright! alright! fuck! I will get in your car and I will tell him to pick me up at home!"
"Why do you have to get him to pick you up in the first place??"
My eyes then begin to slowly do spirals.
Just at that moment, Sb pulls up and I throw myself out of the car- rocket launcher style [ever seen a rocket-launcher come out of a car?]
And I know that I'm in no mood for a movie- uplifting or otherwise and I ask him to take me home. I'm quiet in the car but I can feel those hackles are not going to go down anytime soon.
When we get to my place, I ask him if he wants to come in- Mush vs Mum- first fight of the New Year. He politely declines [that's right, you no longer have an obligation to watch my dysfunctional family do dysfunctional things. Run, you stupid boy, run!]
And then we get down to it inside.
Mum: you were rude to her! She's elder than you!
Mush: They were three words! and not even rude words -She's lucky I didn't tell her to fuck off!
Mum: She's your aunty!
Mush: It's none of her business!
Stepdad: Stop fighting.. [realises it's not going to happen, then exits taking the dog with him]
Mum: And anyway, how can you be so cruel to Sb by getting him to drive you home like that?!
Mush: WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GO SOMEWHERE
Mum: Oh. Well, how would I know that?
Mush: Do you really think that I'm that cruel? That I would get him to come all the way from the fricking countryside to drive me home for five minutes?
Mum: Actually I think you would, you're very good at it.
And then the conversation halted and I just stared at her and there was that feeling again. That she doesn't know me at all, that we're two people who happen to be connected by blood but nothing else.
Mush: Get out
And then she left.
----
Sorry, this is kind of a long post isn't it? It was a night bore out of misunderstandings and more misunderstandings and incredibly pointless fighting. But it really helped me to gain some insight into the relationships with my family which I don't think I previously had. Look, I've always said that I put my friends before my family- this is because I have never felt able to count on my family in my times of need. They are not there, and they are not who I talk to. And I don't know if it's a generational thing or a cultural thing but out of their well intentioned advice always comes a metaphorical storm.
I was discussing politics with my uncle one time and when I moved away she asked me what we were talking about. I replied politics and she laughed "as if you would talk about things like that" and that stung. It was like a slap. I'm constantly surprised by not even how little she knows me but how little she thinks of me.
And as for my aunty, family always lets family stand out in the rain you know?
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
On the verge of something wonderful
So 2008 wasn't the best year ever in terms of career and relationships. Ok, fine. It fricking stalled and lay down and died in the middle of the road.
But this year, I'm feeling quietly more hopeful. I have a feeling that this year will be a better year and I'll figure myself out and everything will be fine.
And even if it doesn't .. I know that I'll be ok- I'm scrappy and I'll make it through.
[Ha, I bet you missed those ridiculously melancholy posts.. it's been a few months]
But this year, I'm feeling quietly more hopeful. I have a feeling that this year will be a better year and I'll figure myself out and everything will be fine.
And even if it doesn't .. I know that I'll be ok- I'm scrappy and I'll make it through.
[Ha, I bet you missed those ridiculously melancholy posts.. it's been a few months]
Monday, January 19, 2009
Sunny Days
It was a picture perfect day for a picnic. [Alliteration!]
Good friends, sunshine and bubbles.
Happy Birthday Coconat! I hope you had a great day.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
My short lived career as a book-seller
The holidays are over and I am broke. b-r-o-k-e. or for the educationally challenged b-r-o-c-k.
Ever since I started living with my mum when I was thirteen, I've had a thing for collecting books. Of course, now that I'm [ahem] twenty three, my tastes are a little different and I have a huge pile of books which I wish to disassociate myself with. And what better way to do this by selling them to a second-hand dealer?!
I had ka-ching signs in my eyes thinking that the dealer would give me [a minimum!] of five dollars a book and I would go home and throw the money on my bed ala Scrooge McDuck and roll around in it.
Huh, I dream too much I think.
So I went with Meowmeow to the dealer and she shuffled through my pile of books- She looked at the Davinci Code and said "I have too many copies of this already" [Ok that is kind of funny] and she sniffed at the Grisham and said "also too many"
She looked at The Devil's Advocate and said "We don't take motion picture books" [Why is that? I asked Meowmeow. 'Cos people can watch the movie instead'. Oh.]
A Grown Up Girls Guide to Life? "While Kathy Lette might recommend it- I'm not taking it" The dealer is getting a bit spicy by this time.
In the end, she took the Diary of Anne Frank [which how come she doesn't have too many of?! Is it a guilt thing?!], Citizen Girl [[a really really crap book which was thirty dollars four years ago],
Some Anne Rice novel [How embarrassing] and something cheap by Robert Hough.
The dealer reached into the drawer and gave me two dollars. Two dollars.
Wow. Thats less than a can of soft drink. I think I must've had goldfish face for ten minutes after that.
Bah. At least I got rid of that crappy Citizen Girl book- Good luck her offloading that.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Rejection Monday
Good things about being single:
-The ability to eat copious amounts of two minute noodles without feeling guilty
-Not having to share the computer
Bad things about being single:
- Killing my own fricking insects
- Not coming home to anything cooked
- Rejecting people, and having them be bitter to you. I fucking hate that.
Tale of woe 1# 11-19:30
I work with this bartender called Louis Cypher and he has been literally chasing me for months. I've told him no a hundred billion times. Sometimes I will turn to him and say " I don't like you!" and he will say "I know".
As of recently, he has been bombarding my mobile inbox with countless squishy smses and I have been ignoring them ... look squishy smses are nice when you like the guy but when you don't like the guy, it's pukey.
So I decided to put an end to this once and for all, by just avoiding him completely at work. This resulted in "areyouok?whatswrong?talktometalktometalktome!areyouok?!".. thus making my head explode into thousands of pieces.
Finally he got the hint and he says "Look I'm not going to ask you anymore.. why are you not talking to me?" I didn't say anything, just pretended my sandwich was really interesting.
So he got the hint right?! The next day [henceforth referred to as Rejection Monday] I thought it would be all better, we would be civil and he would stop bombarding me so that I could re-piece my head. No such luck. He came into work and he was in the foulest moods I've ever seen, he was banging things and throwing things and barking at people. One of the servers whispered to me "What the heck is with him? Why so angry? I'm a bit afraid .." I just shrugged but I knew I had pissed him off something bad.
...
Tale of woe 2# 21:00
So I have a customer who wants [wanted] to date me and I had been out with him one time and it was fine. And when I say it was fine, it was really sort of boring and awkward. But anyway afterwards he apologised and said he was drunk. This was news to me.. he was drunk???
Aren't drunk people supposed to be entertaining and boisterous? I said it was ok and continued on as per usual with my life.
On Rejection Monday night, he started to chat with me online and he asked me to go out again
and I was and I'm being completely honest when I said "I'm really sorry.. but I'm not ready"
His reply was "Haha which I guess really means that you don't like me"
He then made an awkward comment on Ashley Judd and then promptly logged off.
I hope he logged off to grow a new pair of nuts.
...
Tale of woe 3# 21:35
SB: I miss you
Mush: You miss me because I'm fun! [which is true right?? I'm a fun person with fun qualities]
He then proceeded to rip my head off for not taking him seriously.
Oh for Fucks sake. by 9:35 I had had enough of men, with their pettiness and their unwillingness to just fricking get over themselves.
So Rejection Monday turned into Sapphic Tuesday and I have not spoken to a single man for over twenty four hours [with the exception of the make up artist at the Shu Uemura counter, he was strangely effeminate] I feel calmer and less likely for my head to detonate at any second. I should give up talking to men full-time, I don't need another repeat of Rejection Monday.
-The ability to eat copious amounts of two minute noodles without feeling guilty
-Not having to share the computer
Bad things about being single:
- Killing my own fricking insects
- Not coming home to anything cooked
- Rejecting people, and having them be bitter to you. I fucking hate that.
Tale of woe 1# 11-19:30
I work with this bartender called Louis Cypher and he has been literally chasing me for months. I've told him no a hundred billion times. Sometimes I will turn to him and say " I don't like you!" and he will say "I know".
As of recently, he has been bombarding my mobile inbox with countless squishy smses and I have been ignoring them ... look squishy smses are nice when you like the guy but when you don't like the guy, it's pukey.
So I decided to put an end to this once and for all, by just avoiding him completely at work. This resulted in "areyouok?whatswrong?talktometalktometalktome!areyouok?!".. thus making my head explode into thousands of pieces.
Finally he got the hint and he says "Look I'm not going to ask you anymore.. why are you not talking to me?" I didn't say anything, just pretended my sandwich was really interesting.
So he got the hint right?! The next day [henceforth referred to as Rejection Monday] I thought it would be all better, we would be civil and he would stop bombarding me so that I could re-piece my head. No such luck. He came into work and he was in the foulest moods I've ever seen, he was banging things and throwing things and barking at people. One of the servers whispered to me "What the heck is with him? Why so angry? I'm a bit afraid .." I just shrugged but I knew I had pissed him off something bad.
...
Tale of woe 2# 21:00
So I have a customer who wants [wanted] to date me and I had been out with him one time and it was fine. And when I say it was fine, it was really sort of boring and awkward. But anyway afterwards he apologised and said he was drunk. This was news to me.. he was drunk???
Aren't drunk people supposed to be entertaining and boisterous? I said it was ok and continued on as per usual with my life.
On Rejection Monday night, he started to chat with me online and he asked me to go out again
and I was and I'm being completely honest when I said "I'm really sorry.. but I'm not ready"
His reply was "Haha which I guess really means that you don't like me"
He then made an awkward comment on Ashley Judd and then promptly logged off.
I hope he logged off to grow a new pair of nuts.
...
Tale of woe 3# 21:35
SB: I miss you
Mush: You miss me because I'm fun! [which is true right?? I'm a fun person with fun qualities]
He then proceeded to rip my head off for not taking him seriously.
Oh for Fucks sake. by 9:35 I had had enough of men, with their pettiness and their unwillingness to just fricking get over themselves.
So Rejection Monday turned into Sapphic Tuesday and I have not spoken to a single man for over twenty four hours [with the exception of the make up artist at the Shu Uemura counter, he was strangely effeminate] I feel calmer and less likely for my head to detonate at any second. I should give up talking to men full-time, I don't need another repeat of Rejection Monday.
Monday, January 12, 2009
I am not a Hello Kitty nut
Most of my friends think I am a Hello Kitty nutcase, and when I exasperatedly protest- they point to my tattoo as the pinnacle of my [apparent] obssession.
"It's not about Hello Kitty! It's about irony! and conformity! and a delayed adolescence which makes me more appreciative of all things cute!"
They just eyeball me and say "Meh, say what you want. It's about that cat."
[Seriously, just because people get roses on their ankles or chinese symbols doesn't necessarily mean that they love roses or chinese calligraphy. I never see someone with a dolphin tatt and assume that they want to fondle a dolphin or something.]
So anyway this liking [and I stress LIKING] of Hello Kitty has made it easy for people to buy me gifts, they just buy me more Hello Kitty products and the more that people buy me, the more obsessed that they think I am with her! It's a fricking vicious cycle.
So as a top of my head list of Hello Kitty products I have:
a quilt [from Mum]
sheets [from Mum]
a blanket [from Sb]
a tv [from Sb]
a lipgloss [from Sumo]
a camera case [from Sumo]
a head cushion [from Sumo]
a computer mouse [from Mexicana]
a keyring torch [myself]
a keyboard [myself]
a "shoulder massager" [myself.. but more on that later.]
Can you see a pattern here?? I didn't buy most of the stuff! I'm still a person with feelings!
..
So anyway I just bought the keyboard from Melbourne and here it is in all its pink toned glory
It really was a bastard to lug back in a satchel. I think I'm most in love with the flowered keys. Oh, and her head on my shift key. Thats very cool. As you can see Mexicana's mouse is missing half a head- it was unavoidable. The keys as you can see are dark pink and half the time I can't see what I'm typing and so I typo everywhere, especially late at night. All future posts will be coming to you live from the Hello Kitty Keyboard! [with typos]...
I had heard many a legend about the Hello Kitty shoulder massager. The good people of Sanrio released a "shoulder massager" and it quickly began to be used for things other than shoulder massaging. These other uses were not very wholesome or family oriented [unless your family likes to play together. I don't judge.] and Sanrio quickly pulled the plug on these "massagers", but not before they had been completely sold out by crazy, randy Japanese school girls.
Ten years later a recession is coming and why not capitalise on a good thing? so Sanrio last year re-released these "shoulder massagers" in different colours! Feeling lucky? Try orange! Bit dangerous? Try red. There's a different colour for every mood. And how could I of all people resist buying a "shoulder massager"? My shoulders hurt. Ow.
There it is!
It even has a chain so you can put it with your car keys. So you don't lose it. Inside you.
Check out those studs!
I cannot even detail to you how fast the thing runs! it whirs like a blender. Don't worry people I'm not going to use it, just in case you are horribly icked out and want to never read this blog again. When you visit my [hello-kitty filled] room you will see that the "massager" is pristine and unused. I only bought it for entertainment value [not that kind of entertainment value, you sick puppies].
If you want one- visit Jlist.com- batteries are included!
....
...
Four hours later, I saw this on a website. Its a Hello Kitty MAC collection.
Oh my Fucking God. Was I complaining about people buying me this stuff? I changed my mind. I shut up. Please people continue to buy for me, start with the lip glosses. [Hey, my birthday's coming up! people..? people..? Where are you going?!]
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Happy [promiscuous] New Year!
These are the things I was expecting for New Years.
Friends. Check.
Alcohol. Check.
Fireworks. Check.
These are the things I was not expecting on New Years.
Getting lost and arriving late.
Arriving late enough so that everyone else was in alcohol camaraderie.
And lastly, I was not expecting to wander into the middle of a makeshift porn movie.
...
Everyone else was slushed, so I was feeling somewhat left out and not really participating in the [muddled] conversation. Sometimes I'm antisocial. Bite me. Anyway I was wandering around eating stale jellybeans and generally doing formations of eight around the living room when I spotted Girl A lean over and kiss the Girl B full on the mouth. Girl B responded and then quick as a flash, the boys had spotted it and the cameras were whipped out faster than you can say "Is lesbianfest 2008 over yet?". The cameras were out and the boys were doing the most uncanny imitation of paparazzi I'd ever seen. Complete with "Over here! Over here!"
...
Five minutes later, girl C joined in for a three way kiss. I'd never seen a three way kiss before. It involves a lot of mashing of tongue.
...
And then there was groping and squealing and general falling over
...
And I was clearly not drunk enough for this because all I could do was sort of gape at them bewilderedly, and all the while the boys kept shooting! I didn't know if it was impolite enough to keep staring or if I should start adding my contributory soundtrack of "bom-chicka-wow-wow-wow..."
..
Things started to wind down, the girls got sick of the attention and the boys had enough incriminating photos to blackmail the girls for life [or at least enough to share on facebook for a bit]
..
Girl A would five minutes later jump back on Girl B and then the whole process would start again!
...
Um... What can I say to that except that after a while it got boring and I thought it might be better to nurse my cocktail on the balcony. I'm getting old, if even lipstick lesbianism fails to thrill me.
...
About two hours later, I was sitting next to Girl B on the couch and she turned to me and asked me very seriously "Why does Girl A keep licking me?" "Aren't you and Girl A friends? Isn't it common for friends to show affection [by licking]?"
"No, I don't know her.. I just met her today"
"Oh. Then I don't know why she keeps licking you"
We both lapsed into thoughtful silence
...
Inappropriate Idiot guy thought that because Girl A 'seemed' easy that he would straddle her and try to get a public blow job. There's a reason I'm labeling him Inappropriate Idiot guy [henceforth known as IIA]. Girl A pushed him off and left the party in tears. Sigh
...
Now here's why I'm uncomfortable and though I've never met them before would probably be also happy to never see them again. Firstly, Girl A? Despite what Katy Perry sings- lesbianism is not a party trick, it shouldn't be used as a salacious entertainment tactic. Sing. Dance. Entertain then with your vibrant personality or something - don't use lesbian kissing to get attention.. it reeks of desperation and is just ridiculously inappropriate [sorry, I couldn't think of a better word] amongst a group of friends half of whom you don't really know properly.
[For those of you who say, "Maybe she really is a lesbian, you judgemental cow!" Her boyfriend is happily in Hong Kong on holidays unaware that his girlfriend is using her tongue as a human x-box]
...
Secondly, Inappropriate idiot guy? really? on a balcony? in front of everybody? Who did you think was going to agree to that? If I was her, I would've socked you in the nuts before pushing you off, but I guess she's nicer than me. You really are a prime example of a person who deserves to be sterile.
..
Ergh, rant off.
..
Happy New Year everybody, 2009 is getting off to a interesting start don't you think?
Friends. Check.
Alcohol. Check.
Fireworks. Check.
These are the things I was not expecting on New Years.
Getting lost and arriving late.
Arriving late enough so that everyone else was in alcohol camaraderie.
And lastly, I was not expecting to wander into the middle of a makeshift porn movie.
...
Everyone else was slushed, so I was feeling somewhat left out and not really participating in the [muddled] conversation. Sometimes I'm antisocial. Bite me. Anyway I was wandering around eating stale jellybeans and generally doing formations of eight around the living room when I spotted Girl A lean over and kiss the Girl B full on the mouth. Girl B responded and then quick as a flash, the boys had spotted it and the cameras were whipped out faster than you can say "Is lesbianfest 2008 over yet?". The cameras were out and the boys were doing the most uncanny imitation of paparazzi I'd ever seen. Complete with "Over here! Over here!"
...
Five minutes later, girl C joined in for a three way kiss. I'd never seen a three way kiss before. It involves a lot of mashing of tongue.
...
And then there was groping and squealing and general falling over
...
And I was clearly not drunk enough for this because all I could do was sort of gape at them bewilderedly, and all the while the boys kept shooting! I didn't know if it was impolite enough to keep staring or if I should start adding my contributory soundtrack of "bom-chicka-wow-wow-wow..."
..
Things started to wind down, the girls got sick of the attention and the boys had enough incriminating photos to blackmail the girls for life [or at least enough to share on facebook for a bit]
..
Girl A would five minutes later jump back on Girl B and then the whole process would start again!
...
Um... What can I say to that except that after a while it got boring and I thought it might be better to nurse my cocktail on the balcony. I'm getting old, if even lipstick lesbianism fails to thrill me.
...
About two hours later, I was sitting next to Girl B on the couch and she turned to me and asked me very seriously "Why does Girl A keep licking me?" "Aren't you and Girl A friends? Isn't it common for friends to show affection [by licking]?"
"No, I don't know her.. I just met her today"
"Oh. Then I don't know why she keeps licking you"
We both lapsed into thoughtful silence
...
Inappropriate Idiot guy thought that because Girl A 'seemed' easy that he would straddle her and try to get a public blow job. There's a reason I'm labeling him Inappropriate Idiot guy [henceforth known as IIA]. Girl A pushed him off and left the party in tears. Sigh
...
Now here's why I'm uncomfortable and though I've never met them before would probably be also happy to never see them again. Firstly, Girl A? Despite what Katy Perry sings- lesbianism is not a party trick, it shouldn't be used as a salacious entertainment tactic. Sing. Dance. Entertain then with your vibrant personality or something - don't use lesbian kissing to get attention.. it reeks of desperation and is just ridiculously inappropriate [sorry, I couldn't think of a better word] amongst a group of friends half of whom you don't really know properly.
[For those of you who say, "Maybe she really is a lesbian, you judgemental cow!" Her boyfriend is happily in Hong Kong on holidays unaware that his girlfriend is using her tongue as a human x-box]
...
Secondly, Inappropriate idiot guy? really? on a balcony? in front of everybody? Who did you think was going to agree to that? If I was her, I would've socked you in the nuts before pushing you off, but I guess she's nicer than me. You really are a prime example of a person who deserves to be sterile.
..
Ergh, rant off.
..
Happy New Year everybody, 2009 is getting off to a interesting start don't you think?
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Today
so I woke up and saw it was going to be a beautiful day
I was pleased I was going to get my car back.
The bill came back as $888 dollars [No, I didn't add the extra eight]
It was still a beautiful day and so I decided to ask someone to the beach
It looked like it was about to storm so we laid around on the couch instead
Saffron msned me and told me she had given birth, she's a mum now. Flabbergasted.
He left the house, angry without any warning.
And then the sun just came out again.
There's never any explanation for days like these.
I was pleased I was going to get my car back.
The bill came back as $888 dollars [No, I didn't add the extra eight]
It was still a beautiful day and so I decided to ask someone to the beach
It looked like it was about to storm so we laid around on the couch instead
Saffron msned me and told me she had given birth, she's a mum now. Flabbergasted.
He left the house, angry without any warning.
And then the sun just came out again.
There's never any explanation for days like these.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Losing Friends
So I'm not doing a proper sum up til the end of year [and by end of the year I actually mean January when Christmas is over and you've pulled me out of the gutter with my shirt around my head] .. I honestly feel like I've lost a lot of friends this year and ..
this was going to be a post about Losing friends but then I just got a call from my bestest friend in the middle of a concert and now I'm all warm and fuzzy and realise it doesn't really matter that much.
Screw the long and bitter post, I'm staying with the warm and fuzzies.
this was going to be a post about Losing friends but then I just got a call from my bestest friend in the middle of a concert and now I'm all warm and fuzzy and realise it doesn't really matter that much.
Screw the long and bitter post, I'm staying with the warm and fuzzies.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Emotional Intelligence. Have some.
Every so often I get bouts of writer's block [or my life gets desperately boring] and I have nothing to talk about.. and then this poor blog gets neglected.
Ok, fine my life is unimaginably boring and I don't have much to write about.
Lately I've been getting into screaming matches with workmates and have just been really horrible to everybody but mostly old people. Also I'm roadraging to the point where eventually my brain will haemorrage thus causing me to lose control of the vehicle thus starting a sixteen car pile on thus causing more road rage. Oh, and my customers have started calling me Smiley to be ironic- which I'm not really appreciating.
So anyway I thought I would take an eq test [Teddy once called me emotionally stunted]
There were questions like:
14. I ask people how they are feeling [Strongly agree- and if you're around me enough I think you'll get sick of it]
9. I maintain good eye contact [Errr.. disagree, for some reason when I'm in conversation with people my eyes tend to drift off. But it doesn't mean I'm not paying attention! Honest! I just feel cross eyed when I stare too long]
21. I often get ideas while daydreaming [Unsure, sometimes I daydream about Harrison Ford in my bedroom.. does that count as an idea exactly??]
58. I don't get involved in other people's business [Strongly disagree- Yeah I'm a gossip. I know]
48. I can usually de-escalate anger and conflict [Unsure, I'm starting to think I'm pretty good at creating it though]
100. Bosses who treat people badly unleash powerful emotions [Ok now the quiz is just worried that I'm going to turn into a postal worker]
130. Bosses who trample over feelings will find their words used against them [What do you have against my bosses, quiz?!]
And then when I got to the end of the quiz, I was expecting a nice little analysis on how emotionally healthy I was.. instead..
They wanted me to pay $24.18 for a report!! on myself! I'm not that self centred! Or rich!
I bet the professors/marketers who thought up this little scheme are sitting around going "If they're going to do a 4 page, 136 question questionnaire on themselves then they must be narcissists! And I bet you those narcissists will pay by the nose to know about themselves! especially since they wasted half an hour filling it out! It's genius! MUAHAHAHAHA"
Seriously, it takes a lot of EQ to just laugh at it and not want to set their [collective] houses on fire. See? Whaddya know, I have EQ! How good is that? You delivered me some EQ unintentionally.. suck on that quiz!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Wipe On Sex Appeal
So I was in the toilets of Shark Bar and I saw this...
If thats a bit blurry, it says "Wipe On Sex Appeal" Wipe On! Sex Appeal!
and it was only two dollars! who could possibly resist? Well not me thats for sure.
So I scrounged around for two dollars and to the bewilderment of my friends, out popped a little blue box.
We all peered at it.. "Why does it look like a Tiffany's tampon box?", it was oddly the same colour as a box from Tiffanys.
Colour is slightly off on my camera"Open it! open it!"
When it was opened.. it looked like .. well it looked like a condom wrapper.
The back of the packet says: This product has not been tested on animals [ I hope not!]. For external use only.. which makes me wonder exactly where people think they should wipe this thing? Ingredients: Alcohol, pheremone, fragrance and water. Also it boasts an unfair social advantage over other people.. hmm.."Are you sure that's not a condom?"
" A condom which I'm going to wipe on myself...?"
Coconat looked at me and screwed up her nose.. "What if it gives you a rash?"
"Well if it works properly, then I'll be getting a rash for sure! Hee... Ahem..."
I tucked it into my purse for research purposes. And also Mexicana was coming the next day so I was sure she'd appreciate the pure science of wiping [someone else's] pheromones on myself to attract the opposite sex.
...
Mexicana gives me the most exasperated look "you do realise that everyones pheromones are individual and you wasted two dollars! two dollars!"
"But I want everyone to make kissy faces at me! Like this! "
.."After we camwhore of course..."
So are we going to try this or not? .. Mexicana gives me a look which indicates I may be pushing the boundaries of our [beloved! beloved!] friendship by involving her in a crazy social science experiment.
"Fine"
Ippon looks at me and says "What exactly are you involving my girlfriend in??!"
Me: "I'm asking her to wipe this concoction on her neck so that we are more appealing to the opposite sex"
Ippon: "Huh."
So we [or rather I] opened up the packet and got a whiff of the wipe.
.. it smelt like lemony liquid soap but in a way that somebody had tried to remove the lemons and failed. It also made my nose tingle like a bastard.
I looked at Mexicana worriedly, is my nose supposed to tingle??? Is it going to work on me instead?? Will I go crazy and start humping everybodys leg?!
Mexicana: I don't think you know how pheromones work. No.
So despite my misgivings [and worries about an imminent rash] I start applying it liberally
x
It really was like a KFC wipe. Except drier. And greasier. When I reached up to touch my neck, it was like I had rubbed a kebab on myself. I was literally dripping oil.
Me: Um, chicks? Is this supposed to do this?
Mexicana: Yes, its alcohol.
Me: Not any alcohol I've ever drunk.
Mexicana: Sigh
Don't look so happy, you stupid fool. You smell like munted lemonsSo hey pronto! we were greasy and lemon fresh and ready to go. Lets hit the town!
We barely stepped out the door when a forty year old man towing his two kids gave us a look. A deeply perverty look.
Me: He wasn't really close enough to smell anything. I think he might just be objecting to how short your shorts are
We walked up and down George Street looking for an open bar.
Equilibrium- closed [CLOSED?!]
V Bar- There was an empty function going on inside. The bouncer leered at us "you need to pay to get in. I'll give you a discount- make it ten dollars instead of twenty" I think if we had talked to him any longer he would've pulled down his pants and asked us to blow him for entry.
Me: Mexicana, I think your shorts are affecting this experiment.
We continued up and down until Mexi started pouting "I WANNA GET DRUNK. This is affecting BINGE TIME"
I was also starting to think that the smells of George Street [cigarettes, vomit, teenybopper sweat] were starting to co-mingle with my lemony scent.
Fine, fine so we headed to Star Bar [Mexicana officially desperate for a drink] where two [youngish] Indian bartenders served us.
I ordered her three chartreuses.
IB: So you're planning to get drunk tonight? IB starts eyeing up Mexicana appreciatively. Not that I want him or anything but I'm starting to wonder if I should wave my wrists in his face for the sake of experimentation.
Mexicana: Yeah, I am.... BLEAAAAAHHHH.. what is this stuff??
Me: Whoops, forgot you were a chartreuse virgin. Two to go!
The IB is impressed with her gusto, but she starts looking a little bit wobbly on her heels. Oh boy.
Moving onto Shark Bar before IB drags her out the back to hump her leg.
In Shark Bar, to my disappointment the only bartenders there are women and one strangely effeminate blonde guy. I look around and realise that even if this stuff worked [and I don't think it did] these are all eighteen year old high school students! I don't want to go to jail!
I gave up and played pool clumsily instead. Which is I think more fun than unobtrusively waving my wrists in peoples faces.
Results of the experiment: One extremely greasy lemony girl and her trashed best friend had no takers: an interested bartender, a pervy old man, an even more skeevy bouncer and many high school children which we didn't even bother to look at. Now that you put it that way.. is there a man drought in Sydney that I'm not aware of??
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Two bimbos and a taxi
So me and Coconat had just finished having dinner and we were heading back to my car to go home. As we were walking up the street we spied a taxi trying to fit into a teeny weeny space in front of my car. Coconat and I looked at each other and I went ohGodohGod, there's no way he's going to fit...
CRUNCH.. [melding of bumpers noise]
Oh shit.
The taxi started to accelerate and move off. The bastard was going to hit and run!
So Coconat and I flew down the street and started hollering "OI! OI! You!! Stop now!"
The taxi driver hesitated for a second and and when he saw two angry girls bearing down on him, he stepped on the gas double time and zoomed off.
"Wait! You.. you... you.. fuckstick!!"
So we're standing there panting .. hurrrr.. hurrrr.. hurrrr [the two of us need cardio apparently] and I turn around to inspect the damage.
"Um...Coconat? That's not my car"
"Holy crap. It isn't your car!"
"Where is the car?" The car was safe and sound on a parallel street, undamaged by any taxis. We headed home, feeling extremely sheepish and just a little bit stupid. We certainly scared the nuts off that taxi driver.
CRUNCH.. [melding of bumpers noise]
Oh shit.
The taxi started to accelerate and move off. The bastard was going to hit and run!
So Coconat and I flew down the street and started hollering "OI! OI! You!! Stop now!"
The taxi driver hesitated for a second and and when he saw two angry girls bearing down on him, he stepped on the gas double time and zoomed off.
"Wait! You.. you... you.. fuckstick!!"
So we're standing there panting .. hurrrr.. hurrrr.. hurrrr [the two of us need cardio apparently] and I turn around to inspect the damage.
"Um...Coconat? That's not my car"
"Holy crap. It isn't your car!"
"Where is the car?" The car was safe and sound on a parallel street, undamaged by any taxis. We headed home, feeling extremely sheepish and just a little bit stupid. We certainly scared the nuts off that taxi driver.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
I hate Unwired
I use Unwired because I'm renting. There are very little possibilites for internet for people who are renting and don't want to use a phone line. And so I use unwired.
I opened my computer up at 10:00pm, I have been disconnected from the internet once every three minutes for the last hour and twenty minutes. It is now 11:22pm. Which means I have been logged off the internet about twenty six times. I am starting to think I have the patience of a saint. I should be canonised. Saint Mush of Sydney, for not hurling the modem out the window at my neighbours cat. For sitting through twenty six disconnections and constant IP drop outs without kicking the wall in.
While I've been waiting for my internet to stabilise itself [at eleven at night] I've become very good at passing time on things that don't involve internet.
They involve:
Playing endless games of mindsweeper and or spider
Recreating starry starry night on paint program
Cleaning the keys on my keyboard
Imagining syphillis on the CEO of Unwired. Long and painful syphillis which involves his penis exploding with pus at the same rate of my disconnection.
I'm just waiting for my landlady to extend my lease and when she does, I'm going to switch to naked DSL. I am going to pee on the modem and send it back to Unwired in 500 pieces, in fact, I'm going to have a *peeing party for all my friends who've struggled to talk to me on msn for the last year because of constant cut outs. There's going to be so many people who are going to want to take it out on modem that there's not going to be enough modem to go around.
[If you're wondering, yes I did take it to customer service and their advice? Sell the modem to my friends if it's not working for me (really, I don't hate my friends that much). That advice cost me 45 minutes waiting time and a sixty dollar bill. Please canonise me. Vote now]
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Push ups
I haven't been very healthy lately, I've still been taking all my vitamins and everything but my two minute noodle intake has risen by about 500%.
So I thought I would do some exercise but unfortunately it was raining outside, so why not improvise?
I started off by doing a twenty minute run up and down the stairs.. which was kinda fun in an incredibly dorky way. Up.. down.. up.. down.. by the end I was fatigued and I tripped up the stairs and tumbled onto the landing. This was not just any tumble. It was a somersault and a half. I lay on the floor stunned and then I just laughed at myself for five minutes. Good thing I'm living by myself and no-one could see me sprawled in hysterics on the floor.
next! sit ups! the muffin top is still there.. I guess that can't be helped. By twenty sit ups. I might be expecting too much [You know.. the Hello Kitty tattoo is only a year old and it seems to be faded already, should I be going in for a touch up or something?]
And then push ups. It's been a long time between push ups [actual push ups and not sexual push ups, you sick puppies] and I found that I couldn't do any "men's" push ups anymore and I could only do those "girly" ones.
Let me explain the difference, "mens" push ups are the ones where you lift up your entire body weight by arm strength. "Girly" push ups are the ones on your knees where you push forward [even in exercise the girls are on their knees...]
I can't put my finger on really why this irritated me, other than the fact that I'm unable to lift my own body weight.
I was bemoaning this to Mexicana who just said in her sensible way.. "you're a girl, it's a girl push up. " .. "But.. but I used to be able to do a men's push up!"
None of this, of course, was helped by the fact that Minnie kept attacking my face thinking I was trying to play with her. "Leave me alone! I am trying to exercise! GHDFHGDFHD"
Clearly the elements are working against me and don't want me to exercise.
[oh Sex on fire by Kings of Leon is an excellent song to workout to.. "whoaaaaaa! your sex is on fiiire!"]
So I thought I would do some exercise but unfortunately it was raining outside, so why not improvise?
I started off by doing a twenty minute run up and down the stairs.. which was kinda fun in an incredibly dorky way. Up.. down.. up.. down.. by the end I was fatigued and I tripped up the stairs and tumbled onto the landing. This was not just any tumble. It was a somersault and a half. I lay on the floor stunned and then I just laughed at myself for five minutes. Good thing I'm living by myself and no-one could see me sprawled in hysterics on the floor.
next! sit ups! the muffin top is still there.. I guess that can't be helped. By twenty sit ups. I might be expecting too much [You know.. the Hello Kitty tattoo is only a year old and it seems to be faded already, should I be going in for a touch up or something?]
And then push ups. It's been a long time between push ups [actual push ups and not sexual push ups, you sick puppies] and I found that I couldn't do any "men's" push ups anymore and I could only do those "girly" ones.
Let me explain the difference, "mens" push ups are the ones where you lift up your entire body weight by arm strength. "Girly" push ups are the ones on your knees where you push forward [even in exercise the girls are on their knees...]
I can't put my finger on really why this irritated me, other than the fact that I'm unable to lift my own body weight.
I was bemoaning this to Mexicana who just said in her sensible way.. "you're a girl, it's a girl push up. " .. "But.. but I used to be able to do a men's push up!"
None of this, of course, was helped by the fact that Minnie kept attacking my face thinking I was trying to play with her. "Leave me alone! I am trying to exercise! GHDFHGDFHD"
Clearly the elements are working against me and don't want me to exercise.
[oh Sex on fire by Kings of Leon is an excellent song to workout to.. "whoaaaaaa! your sex is on fiiire!"]
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
D is for Desmond
When we were seventeen, Alphabeta and I had a friend called Des. We had seen him briefly in person but we talked to him mostly over the internet. This was put down to what we assumed was extreme shyness.
One day Alphabeta sat me down and said that he wasn’t shy but he was traumatized. Des was in the city one night with a friend when they encountered some youths who demanded his wallet. His friend handed over his straight away. But Des refused and was put into hospital as a result.
He never talked to his friend again, he regarded it as a betrayal. And from that he slowly slipped inwards, he never really left the house unless he had to.
From my seventeen year old mind, I didn’t really understand [well of course I’d also never been beaten to a pulp] and I was frustrated with what I perceived to be his stubbornness in getting back out and living his life. Rainbows, butterflies and trips to the beach. How could he be so blind and not see these things??
So I thought I would take the hard tack and I told him that what he was doing was an utter waste of life. That he was a coward for hiding out and living his life from his bedroom.
Des never talked to me again after that
Thursday, October 23, 2008
One for the road
Q. Why did the woman cross the road?
A. Who cares why?! She shouldn't have been let out of the kitchen! Chain her back to the sink!
[This is only funny when I tell it. Nobody with half a penis should ever attempt to tell this joke]
A. Who cares why?! She shouldn't have been let out of the kitchen! Chain her back to the sink!
[This is only funny when I tell it. Nobody with half a penis should ever attempt to tell this joke]
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Toast
So today is a new day and despite everything I have to get up and live life as per normal.
I have to eat. And I haven't eaten properly for two [two!] weeks now so I decided to hack into some toast.
Halfway as I was eating, it occurred to me that if there were any miracle Jesus faces on my toast, it would be all gone now and it would be a downright waste of miracle [that is if God was sending me any to cheer me up]
But then I thought about it, and I felt sorry for those people who spend all their time studying their breakfast as opposed to eating it.
Wouldn't it just ruin your breakfast if you received Jesus toast and then every morning after you popped more bread in the toaster.. nothing? It wouldn't be such a great start to the day.
Breakfast of course being the most important part of the day [says the food industry].
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
You and me are floating on a tidal wave
I don't know how to condense eleven years of memories into an appropriate essay. My skills as a writer are failing me.
I mean this to be a goodbye to my best friend. Who listened to me patiently everyday for the last eight years. Who saw my physical flaws and didn't flinch. Who steadfastly put up with every family dinner, every crazy fight and every unreliable friend.
For sharing my tears
For being my backbone when I had none
My words fail me because I cannot aptly put into words how much these eight years have meant to me, for you to have been with me every step of the way. I can't adequately express it.
It's time for me to go it alone.
I love you.
Please take care of yourself.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Old ladies, hills, directions.
I was walking back to work chewing my roast beef sandwich when a little old lady in a clown dress and a hat stopped me to ask for directions. She was holding a map and muttering. And I asked her what was wrong.
"The taxi dropped me off and I can't find twenty one. Twenty one. twenty one" [Oh, that Sam Sparro song is in my head now. Damn]
I gave her a look and said there is no twenty one on Nichols Street. She brushed me off angrily and kept walking.
I stood at the entrance for a bit deciding whether I should help her out. And against my better judgement [five years of catholic school- unwasted], I dumped my sandwich on the desk and headed back onto the street.
She was still walking up and down the street talking to herself "no-one can help me" and getting angrier and more frustrated as she paced.
"Look, lady. I don't know what you're looking for.. but that building over there? is 13-29. There's no twenty one on Nichols"
And she gets even more pissed off [adding to my multitude of sins, I'm pissing off old ladies] "Yes there is!"
Me: There is not. Thats 13-29. Unless your twenty one is inside.
Her: Twenty one is a house!
Me: That's clearly not a house
Her: No-one can help me! I'm walking up and down and no-one can help me!
Me: I'm providing you with all the help I can possibly provide! [Starts thinking of my sandwich. My poor sweet sandwich]
Her: no-one can help me!
She walks past and continues her fruitless search for twenty one on Nichols St.
I go back in and chew my lunch. That's something I also learned in catholic school, sometimes you have to stop and listen to people otherwise you'll be ninety five and walking up and down hills trying to find a house that doesn't exist. Also at ninety-five if you're still feeling sorry for yourself. She's right, no-one can help you
"The taxi dropped me off and I can't find twenty one. Twenty one. twenty one" [Oh, that Sam Sparro song is in my head now. Damn]
I gave her a look and said there is no twenty one on Nichols Street. She brushed me off angrily and kept walking.
I stood at the entrance for a bit deciding whether I should help her out. And against my better judgement [five years of catholic school- unwasted], I dumped my sandwich on the desk and headed back onto the street.
She was still walking up and down the street talking to herself "no-one can help me" and getting angrier and more frustrated as she paced.
"Look, lady. I don't know what you're looking for.. but that building over there? is 13-29. There's no twenty one on Nichols"
And she gets even more pissed off [adding to my multitude of sins, I'm pissing off old ladies] "Yes there is!"
Me: There is not. Thats 13-29. Unless your twenty one is inside.
Her: Twenty one is a house!
Me: That's clearly not a house
Her: No-one can help me! I'm walking up and down and no-one can help me!
Me: I'm providing you with all the help I can possibly provide! [Starts thinking of my sandwich. My poor sweet sandwich]
Her: no-one can help me!
She walks past and continues her fruitless search for twenty one on Nichols St.
I go back in and chew my lunch. That's something I also learned in catholic school, sometimes you have to stop and listen to people otherwise you'll be ninety five and walking up and down hills trying to find a house that doesn't exist. Also at ninety-five if you're still feeling sorry for yourself. She's right, no-one can help you
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Rubiks cubes are hot!
So anyway I was talking to Mexicana about what I really like in a guy and one of my prerequisites is fluidity in movement. Not fluidity as in terms of dance but being able to take off a shirt in one go, opening a bottle with one hand that kind of thing. That kind of thing really makes me die a little inside. I think it's because I myself have no grace to speak of. And also I think there's a projection of confidence that comes with it. .. [Is it hot in here? I think so]
So she was telling me about her boy Ippon
Mexicana: oh u know what I find really hot? watching Ippon solve a rubix cube.
It's fluid and intelligence in one!
Mush: WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.. [at this point I rolled off my chair and hurt something]
Ok we'll go to the Rubiks cube convention when it comes around
Mexicana: theres one? omg. I will prolly have to bring my vibrator with me.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
The first time I snowboarded
[Look how happy I am. I'm obviously the idiot who never went boarding before]Those of you who have actually seen me walk will know that I am the most ungraceful creature this side of the southern hemisphere. I don't know if I'm just careless but I have a habit of bumping/spilling/fallingover and just generally causing mayhem wherever I go. I knelt over on the street to do my shoelace once and someone tripped over me, like tumbled straight over in some fantastic aerial trick.
So try putting me on a snowboard and watch the apocalypse begin.
Well ok.. that was a bit dire. But it wasn't pretty for anyone involved.
So we were standing around having lessons in a line. And we had to slide down the [mini] hill one at a time. Everyone else was sliding down just fine and I was just constantly on my hands and knees [I don't need this degradation! I can provide my own degradation!] or I would slide and slide straight past the instructor. Whoops. I should've stopped seven metres back?
And then I would have to drag my butt back up the hill. Have you tried walking with a snowboard attached to your foot? Its heavy and I'm not particularly athletic so it took me about six minutes to get back up the hill and I kept getting in the way of the people in line! I was starting to feel sorry for myself but mostly I was starting to feel for the people [also beginners] who were trying to avoid me! Foot go this way, no? ok.
So after this rather embarrassing interlude, the instructor said "Everyone to the ski-lifts!" and everybody just boarded their way there while I slipped and slid and just generally went the wrong way. When I got there, everyone was waiting patiently [and nicely] for me. That made me miserable.
We get to the ski-lifts and I cannot board it. I'm holding onto the side and I'm trying to get on and I cannot. And the guy is like "let go! let go!" I'm about to pull a Stallone cliffhanger with the ski-chair. He pulls me off and we both heave big sighs of relief, him because he doesn't have to watch me hang on for dear life, and me, because I don't have to hang on for dear life. For the next forty metres.
You can see how enamoured I am with the boarding. I took my board off [sweet ankle freedom!] and stomped over to the cafe and vowed never to try anything that would likely kill me ever again.
Of course I tried again in the afternoon [I'm no quitter!] and well .. knees? meet ice. Sigh, I gave up and made snowmen instead. The moral of the story is? Don't invite me anywhere that involves balance, co-ordination or heights. Invite me somewhere that involves eating and sitting down. [If you choose to invite me somewhere to eat, please don't point and laugh at my jiggly thighs from lack of exercise. Thanks]
There are no photos still. Blame Dylmah for breaking my camera.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
American Apparel [I go on a rant. Another one]
Some images are not safe for work ok? ok.
So here I am on a Wednesday afternoon surfing through the internet when I stumbled across this ad [I'm not American, so I'm late to the party]
Can I just say? wow. That does not make me want to buy socks! And I cannot believe those advertisers think the consumer is so stupid that we'd buy those socks. Orgasm socks. Hold on let me try and put my finger on what else is bothering me so much about this ad [other than the orgasm socks thing] This is a girl, her name is Lauren Phoenix- she's pretty in a wholesome looking way, she's accomplished [as far as I can tell some sort of actor and director. Hopefully not in porn.] and they've stripped her naked to try and sell socks! IHFHVJKDHVSHVNKJSV
That was the sound of my head exploding. Onto the keyboard.
Right, let's simplify what the marketers were thinking [Occams razor a go]
a) we need to sell socks.
b) people don't want models! they want real people!
c) get me a real person!
d) what else sells? sex sells!
e) so get me a real person and we'll pile on the sex! Those socks will go flying out the window! We'll have to triple order on the socks!
GDFGDHBFDBJBNG. My head is not doing very well in this equation.
I don't know which is worse that advertisers think we'll somehow identify with the 'real' girl who is orgasming in socks. Or that in this modernfandangled world, even a tube sock can be sexualised. Look out soon for that erect penis to advertise a jar of peanut butter.
Oh, she is a pornstar. What.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lauren_Phoenix
Moving on, shall we? [That wiki photo needs a bra. Sigh. I guess American Apparel didn't give her one]
So I thought I would google some images, you know maybe I'm too harsh on old AA? Maybe I'm getting old and turning into a prude. I mean the human body is a beautiful thing, why shouldn't it be used in sexually explicit ways to sell us clothes? or batteries? or jam jelly donuts?? Won't somebody think of the children?!
And...... good thing I don't have children, because they would be wearing blindfolds. In a room with blank walls with only E.B. White stories on cassette.
But seriously, she's mooning the reader. How adorable. I would probably like those pants if they were on her and I could see them.
Lastly but not leastly, my favourite topic ever! The fetishisation of young Asian girls to sell bathing suits which don't fit properly! I don't know this girl and I can tell you that there's one thing that we have in common at this very moment in time, we're both carrying identical expressions of boredom and disdain.
So what is she thinking? It's rather cramped inside her head, it's filled with dimsims, men and diet coke bottles. It runs a little across the lines of... "Look photographer boy, this is really cold and uncomfortable and its sitting on my nipple rather awkwardly, can you start clicking already? Oh shit, I think my period just started. In a silver leotard. I hate my life. How come seventeen is not considered underage anymore?"
And here is what I would say to her if she was standing in front of me. "What the hell are you doing? Are you aware that only one of your nipples is for show on a national campaign. You look bored and cold. If you're going to render all of your fellow yellow sisters fifty five thousand steps backwards with that submissive crap, do you think you could do it with some enthusiasm?"
See identical expressions of disdain and boredom. Thanks American Apparel! I do have something in common with one of your models! I might go off and buy one of your tube socks online!
So here I am on a Wednesday afternoon surfing through the internet when I stumbled across this ad [I'm not American, so I'm late to the party]
Can I just say? wow. That does not make me want to buy socks! And I cannot believe those advertisers think the consumer is so stupid that we'd buy those socks. Orgasm socks. Hold on let me try and put my finger on what else is bothering me so much about this ad [other than the orgasm socks thing] This is a girl, her name is Lauren Phoenix- she's pretty in a wholesome looking way, she's accomplished [as far as I can tell some sort of actor and director. Hopefully not in porn.] and they've stripped her naked to try and sell socks! IHFHVJKDHVSHVNKJSV
That was the sound of my head exploding. Onto the keyboard.
Right, let's simplify what the marketers were thinking [Occams razor a go]
a) we need to sell socks.
b) people don't want models! they want real people!
c) get me a real person!
d) what else sells? sex sells!
e) so get me a real person and we'll pile on the sex! Those socks will go flying out the window! We'll have to triple order on the socks!
GDFGDHBFDBJBNG. My head is not doing very well in this equation.
I don't know which is worse that advertisers think we'll somehow identify with the 'real' girl who is orgasming in socks. Or that in this modernfandangled world, even a tube sock can be sexualised. Look out soon for that erect penis to advertise a jar of peanut butter.
Oh, she is a pornstar. What.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lauren_Phoenix
Moving on, shall we? [That wiki photo needs a bra. Sigh. I guess American Apparel didn't give her one]
So I thought I would google some images, you know maybe I'm too harsh on old AA? Maybe I'm getting old and turning into a prude. I mean the human body is a beautiful thing, why shouldn't it be used in sexually explicit ways to sell us clothes? or batteries? or jam jelly donuts?? Won't somebody think of the children?!
And...... good thing I don't have children, because they would be wearing blindfolds. In a room with blank walls with only E.B. White stories on cassette.But seriously, she's mooning the reader. How adorable. I would probably like those pants if they were on her and I could see them.
Lastly but not leastly, my favourite topic ever! The fetishisation of young Asian girls to sell bathing suits which don't fit properly! I don't know this girl and I can tell you that there's one thing that we have in common at this very moment in time, we're both carrying identical expressions of boredom and disdain.So what is she thinking? It's rather cramped inside her head, it's filled with dimsims, men and diet coke bottles. It runs a little across the lines of... "Look photographer boy, this is really cold and uncomfortable and its sitting on my nipple rather awkwardly, can you start clicking already? Oh shit, I think my period just started. In a silver leotard. I hate my life. How come seventeen is not considered underage anymore?"
And here is what I would say to her if she was standing in front of me. "What the hell are you doing? Are you aware that only one of your nipples is for show on a national campaign. You look bored and cold. If you're going to render all of your fellow yellow sisters fifty five thousand steps backwards with that submissive crap, do you think you could do it with some enthusiasm?"
See identical expressions of disdain and boredom. Thanks American Apparel! I do have something in common with one of your models! I might go off and buy one of your tube socks online!
Monday, September 08, 2008
Reading on the bus
I am so much less emo in the morning. Thats the last time I post at three in the morning. How embarrassing. My eighty four year old neighbour can probably by now sing all the lyrics to Death Cab for Cutie, it probably permeates her dreams and she wakes up singing 'Translanticism' or something. Also something to stop doing at three in the morning.
This morning on the crowded bus [did I mention I miss my civic? Did I?!] there was a guy standing next to me reading a paperback novel. And for some reason the novel was wrapped in white paper. What the heck right? So I figured it was American Psycho or some other novel which you don't want people to know you're reading at eight in the morning.
[There actually would be something wrong with you if you decided it would be fun to read American Psycho in the morning on a bus full of people. I bought my copy at seventeen and its never ever occurred to me to go back and re-read it. It looks good on my shelf though. However the number of people who have flipped through it? Zero point zero. So who cares right? it's a good-looking dust collector. Ok I just wanted everybody to know I have a copy and I'm still normal. I did skip the killing sections though, that might've helped. Anyway. Long tangent. Sorry]
So I'm trying to read over his elbow and everytime I peer at it, he moves the book! This happens enough times that I suspect that he's intentionally trying to hide what he's reading. [I'm rubbernecking on a bus. Look at what my life has been reduced to]
And so now I'm curious. What the heck is it? Is it porn? The anarchists cookbook? what? I spy a subheading 'The Great Time Machine Hoax'
I come back to work and google it. Hoping it'll be something cool like Chariots of the Gods or something.
Here is what wiki came back with: The Great Time Machine Hoax is a science fiction novel by Keith Laumer, in expansion of his novelette serialized in Fantastic magazine under the title of "A Hoax in Time" from June-August, 1963.
Chester W. Chester IV inherits a run-down mansion and millions in back taxes. In order to pay the taxes, he initially decides to auction off the mansion and its contents, including a massive computer (the Generalized Nonlinear Extrapolator, or "Genie").
To sum up, he invents a fake time machine which becomes a real time machine and gets stuck in the past.
Um, wow. That was disappointing. That was disappointingly geeky. No wonder he had to cover it was white paper. Its for people to think the book is much more exciting than it is. That'll teach me not to read over people's elbows.
This morning on the crowded bus [did I mention I miss my civic? Did I?!] there was a guy standing next to me reading a paperback novel. And for some reason the novel was wrapped in white paper. What the heck right? So I figured it was American Psycho or some other novel which you don't want people to know you're reading at eight in the morning.
[There actually would be something wrong with you if you decided it would be fun to read American Psycho in the morning on a bus full of people. I bought my copy at seventeen and its never ever occurred to me to go back and re-read it. It looks good on my shelf though. However the number of people who have flipped through it? Zero point zero. So who cares right? it's a good-looking dust collector. Ok I just wanted everybody to know I have a copy and I'm still normal. I did skip the killing sections though, that might've helped. Anyway. Long tangent. Sorry]
So I'm trying to read over his elbow and everytime I peer at it, he moves the book! This happens enough times that I suspect that he's intentionally trying to hide what he's reading. [I'm rubbernecking on a bus. Look at what my life has been reduced to]
And so now I'm curious. What the heck is it? Is it porn? The anarchists cookbook? what? I spy a subheading 'The Great Time Machine Hoax'
I come back to work and google it. Hoping it'll be something cool like Chariots of the Gods or something.
Here is what wiki came back with: The Great Time Machine Hoax is a science fiction novel by Keith Laumer, in expansion of his novelette serialized in Fantastic magazine under the title of "A Hoax in Time" from June-August, 1963.
Chester W. Chester IV inherits a run-down mansion and millions in back taxes. In order to pay the taxes, he initially decides to auction off the mansion and its contents, including a massive computer (the Generalized Nonlinear Extrapolator, or "Genie").
To sum up, he invents a fake time machine which becomes a real time machine and gets stuck in the past.
Um, wow. That was disappointing. That was disappointingly geeky. No wonder he had to cover it was white paper. Its for people to think the book is much more exciting than it is. That'll teach me not to read over people's elbows.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
The metaphorical heart
I keep parts of my soul in storage. Like an old coat, I will take it out periodically and dust it off. After a while, you can't remember why that old favourite was hidden and you carefully place it in your pocket.
On Friday night, I took a piece of it to Coffeeboy and he used it to wipe his feet. It can't be helped he didn't know what it was for.
On Saturday morning, Sb took that same piece and he used all of his hurt and frustration to hurl it across the room.
I picked it up and looked at it
I cried because it was now torn and tattered. I couldn't recognise it. I sat on the floor putting it back together.
Mexicana saw she had a piece in Canberra, kissed it and handed it back to me.
Mexicana saw she had a piece in Canberra, kissed it and handed it back to me.
I went to work
Blondie said to me "I know you're doing it rough", she then put a chocolate in a spot where there was a hole.
Teddy looked at it, saw that it was flat and propped it up with his hand and a coffee cup.
Teddy looked at it, saw that it was flat and propped it up with his hand and a coffee cup.
I went home
By the end of the weekend, it was clearly damaged and no kisses or chocolate could repair it fully. Devastated, I returned it to its box. When the tears finally dry, I will take it out and inspect it, I will promise myself to be more careful with it, I will forget why I hid it in the first place, I will put it back in my pocket and keep walking.
Friday, September 05, 2008
Funny funny
This actually made me snort coke up my nose and I got the giggles. The manic faces. The stunned expression on the postman's face. I think that transmitter is going to go where no dog has been before. So much to love in a single panel
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Midori Illusions are not interfering with my ability to detox
So anyway I was talking to Md on the phone and I mentioned my intention to detox. [Because really I am looking fifteen types of haggard lately- if I don't it's because I'm using about twenty different types of foundation, a diffuser and wearing a hat. Why would I be exaggerating? I don't exaggerate. I digress] and she was all interested and said
"well how long have you been detoxing for?"[ie. how long have you been off the drink for? phew. Mush is not actually turning into Amy Winehouse]
"Uh.. since Friday?" [Crap, why didn't I say for two years? it sounds longer]
Md bursts into laughter "Three days is a long time!"
Nuts.
Anyway to get to my point over a long digressive introduction. I was having dinner with Betty last night and I was poring through the menu when Betty says "Ooh! Midori Illusions!"
and I'm Midori Illusions? Didn't they go out with the [old] Spice Girls and troll dolls??
I seriously haven't had one in about eight years. I remember the days of sitting with Tatergirl and a group of friends in front of Oneworld Sport and ordering them in the big jugs for sixteen dollars. We really thought we were so cool and of course, I've moved onto other drinks, Tatergirl is MIA and Oneworld Sport turned into a restaurant/bowling alley/night club before shutting down completely and nobody even thinks to serve alcohol in jugs anymore. Damn. Except maybe in Thailand.
I haven't seen them in eight years, so I'd presumed that they'd been pushed out of the market by infinitely more yummy drinks such as Smirnoff blacks.
So when I ordered one [most hesitantly] I was thinking there was a good chance that they're going to pull it out of the cellar where it rolled under the fridge and they're going to have to wipe the dust off it.
When it approached, I was thinking that bright lime-y green colour is also indicative of its radioactivity.
But surprise! It tasted exactly the same! and it had a valid use by date [ not one added by the waiter in texta marker]. How odd. And the taste memories which apparently never really die came flooding back and all of a sudden I was eighteen again and in the sunshine drinking Illusions because I thought they were cool.
Of course when I came out from my reverie I was across from Betty in the cafe at night time who is probably by now used to my descents into la-la land. Whoops, I was supposed to be detoxing. So duly I checked the label to see how much alcohol it had in it and whether I should start eating lemons by the box.
4.8%!
4.8%!!
There's more alcohol in a tiramisu! Or a baby wipe!
a Jim beam black holds 9% and a smirnoff black holds 7. The difference is simply gobsmacking. Betty saw me looking at the label and pronounced it lollywater. Thats right, you keep right on drinking that because in fifteen minutes it will be like it never existed. No wonder I spent so many of my younger years being good and sober, it's because I was drinking the alcoholic equivalent of a kfc cleansing tissue.
Anyway, I am not counting that Illusion as a dent in my detox [that was a dent? that was like a soft brushing. Of a cat] and my detox continues unabated. Well until I try smirnoff Ice Wild grape? What the heck is that? and where can I get me some?*
[*I'm kidding. Although oohhhh. Grape. Yeesh, don't bombard me with emails on how I'm turning to Amy Winehouse or I'll pour passionpop onto your shirt and elbow you in the ribs]
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Its a quarter life crisis on a Wednesday afternoon
What I am doing on a Wednesday afternoon:
- Blatantly ignoring the truckload of work in front of me [Yoo hoo! Says the Indesign layout with my name on it]
- Sharing a packet of potato chips with Minnie- I wish I still had a camera so I could capture her chewing. Its fricking cute.
- Youtubing Jason Mraz. Please give him some love. The boy is a genius.
- Trying not to disappear back into my bed and sleep.
I wonder if I thought that my twenty five year old life would be more exciting than this. I thought it would involve me sipping maitais around a pool in a pair of high heels while a bevy of tanned waiters fed me grapes as I ordered people around on my mobile. [Apparently I'm a twenty five year old Naomi Campbell]
I did not believe it involved living in the most suburban of suburban suburbs without a car. Not even a snippet of hunky half naked waiter to polish my toenails or even feed me a grape. My dog has eaten my mobile so that it can neither be considered stylish nor sexy. It is also too cold for any sort of pool weather. Its yeti in a sweater weather.
What happened to my dreams and ambitions? I need to really sit down and re-evaluate what I want from life, of course this can only happen when I finish doing layouts. Sigh
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Why I miss my car and why I hate bus guards
I miss my civic. I seriously just want it back so I can pat it lovingly on the bonnet never to part again.
So I was waiting for the bus this morning and my bus didn't show [as it does] so I got on the next bus which read CITY. It was not my normally numbered bus and I was a bit worried that it was going to do a gigantic detour through north Queensland before heading into the city. So when we got to Macquarie Centre, I decided to do the sensible thing and stick my head out the back door and see where the bus was heading.
As I moved my head and half a foot back in, the bus driver started shrieking like a banshee.
"BACKDOOR! SHE'S COMING THROUGH THE BACKDOOR!" [of course not many banshees drive buses but I digress]
and then a whole bunch [maul] of guards came and were like "Get off the bus!" and I'm "I have a ticket!"
So I got off the bus and dickhead guard 1# says "Give me your ID, you're copping a hundred dollar fine for coming through the back door"
".. But I have a ticket!"
"It doesn't matter."
Seriously getting huffy at this point, I dump my bag on the bench and pulled out my ticket.
The guards pass it around each other incredulously [like it's a hallelujah Jesus miracle] and say awedly "She's telling the truth"
By this time, I'm in borderline hysterics I am about to kick them all in the nuts with a swift roundhouse kick.
"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I LIE TO YOU?!!!!"
And then they all awkwardly shuffle around and look at their feet.
Dickhead guard 2#: Look, people lie to us all the time. Out of a hundred people a day, only one will tell the truth.
Dickhead guard 1#: Its a sad inditement of society.
[I put my head in my hands, I'm getting a headache]
Dickhead guard 2#: Don't get upset.
Me: [In my best refrigerator voice] why would I be upset?
Dickhead guard 1#: I've crossed your name off in my book! No fine!
Me: Thanks [fuck you, buddy]
Dickhead guard 2# Are you late for work?
Me: Yes [no thanks to you, your cronies and the shrieky bus driver]
Dickhead guard 2#: well, look you didn't have the ticket in your hand
Me: [death stare]
Dickhead guard 2#: Errr.. we'll put you on the next bus. No charge.
And that is why I miss my car and I hate bus guards. So bus guards are maligned and everyone lies to them. So they act cynical and condescending in return. They deserve a good swift kick to the nuts.
So I was waiting for the bus this morning and my bus didn't show [as it does] so I got on the next bus which read CITY. It was not my normally numbered bus and I was a bit worried that it was going to do a gigantic detour through north Queensland before heading into the city. So when we got to Macquarie Centre, I decided to do the sensible thing and stick my head out the back door and see where the bus was heading.
As I moved my head and half a foot back in, the bus driver started shrieking like a banshee.
"BACKDOOR! SHE'S COMING THROUGH THE BACKDOOR!" [of course not many banshees drive buses but I digress]
and then a whole bunch [maul] of guards came and were like "Get off the bus!" and I'm "I have a ticket!"
So I got off the bus and dickhead guard 1# says "Give me your ID, you're copping a hundred dollar fine for coming through the back door"
".. But I have a ticket!"
"It doesn't matter."
Seriously getting huffy at this point, I dump my bag on the bench and pulled out my ticket.
The guards pass it around each other incredulously [like it's a hallelujah Jesus miracle] and say awedly "She's telling the truth"
By this time, I'm in borderline hysterics I am about to kick them all in the nuts with a swift roundhouse kick.
"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I LIE TO YOU?!!!!"
And then they all awkwardly shuffle around and look at their feet.
Dickhead guard 2#: Look, people lie to us all the time. Out of a hundred people a day, only one will tell the truth.
Dickhead guard 1#: Its a sad inditement of society.
[I put my head in my hands, I'm getting a headache]
Dickhead guard 2#: Don't get upset.
Me: [In my best refrigerator voice] why would I be upset?
Dickhead guard 1#: I've crossed your name off in my book! No fine!
Me: Thanks [fuck you, buddy]
Dickhead guard 2# Are you late for work?
Me: Yes [no thanks to you, your cronies and the shrieky bus driver]
Dickhead guard 2#: well, look you didn't have the ticket in your hand
Me: [death stare]
Dickhead guard 2#: Errr.. we'll put you on the next bus. No charge.
And that is why I miss my car and I hate bus guards. So bus guards are maligned and everyone lies to them. So they act cynical and condescending in return. They deserve a good swift kick to the nuts.
Monday, September 01, 2008
Take the world upon your shoulders
I do love that song.
I think because it's so gothic and melodramatic.
"All the bridges in the world won't save you
if there is no other side to cross to"
It helps when you are staring blankly at the screen trying to write a press release.
[Sorry for the lack of updates. I still love you all. Sort of. Some of you. Not you.]
I think because it's so gothic and melodramatic.
"All the bridges in the world won't save you
if there is no other side to cross to"
It helps when you are staring blankly at the screen trying to write a press release.
[Sorry for the lack of updates. I still love you all. Sort of. Some of you. Not you.]
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