thursday

Today is Thursday. I did the washing. Chicken.

Funny words for the day: aloof, cassowary, quinoa, gargantuan (e.g, "the gargantuan goitre on the man's neck is a result of a lack of iodine in his diet").

Last night we saw a real midget who was very old. Brendan says he can't have been old because midgets do not live very long, so we agreed to disagree. Actually, we really just disagreed.


Also:



Must get out my old textas.

fibromyalgia?

First of all, I must apologise for my frightfully drunken attempt at a blog post (see below). I am not so good this week but I am just waaaaiting and waiting and waiting it out. Eventually I will be super. A picture of health, yes. 

I put in an application for a grant so I can record an album in December. I want to record samples of all of my favourite noises and hide them in/under/in between tracks.  Some of my favourite sounds include:

- When my nephew goes "ssssssss!" and spits everywhere

- The Windows sound for "empty recycle bin"
- Ice blocks clinking into a glass
- High-pitched farts "pvvvffft!"
- Stapler, click-click!
- Brenjay's snoring
..There are more but I can't think of them now.

One of my doctors said the only known way to fix a piece of shit immune system is with a bone marrow transplant but it has only worked a couple of times in the world. Basically it isn't worth it because the body recognises the new bone marrow and usually, you die. Nevertheless, this obviously isn't an option because I am poor as fuck, and, bone marrow....yuck. The word "marrow" just makes me feel erked.

There are baby black swans (cygnets) at Hyde Park at the moment. I fucking hate swans. They scare the shit out of me. Their necks are so violent and wibbly-wobbly, every time I drive past the park and see them I gasp and behave like a silly old woman. Graceful? My bum!

I complain SO much. I'm sorrrrrry.

G'MILF

I can't remember the last time I did a poo. But I feel good though! Despite having a cold for the last 3 weeks I feel like I am actually getting much  better . I am watching a show called SKins which my good friend lent me and I am giving Brenjay a pedicure andd he thinks it's real nice of me but I don't think nothing of it. Brenjay is teaching me that Chardonnay isn't as bad as I thought it was. I blame my mother for this.


I wish I was just like my nephew, he is so awesome. I don't get what he think is so great about cars though.

I am asking my government for some money so I can make really great music. But I have some trouble paying attention.

Steph I haven't seen you in ages, I'm sorry. I think you are super.



In high school I had to go in this caravan and it was the "Careers Caravan" and they said I should be a fire man. I do have asthma, but I don't feel that this is a major disability in saving lives n shit.

p.s. my friend says nothing scares her except for eye bogies, which I call "eye crumbs". But this scares me very much:

 I also am a bit afraid of aardvarks but Justine says they aren't scary. I got a tattoo of  a narwhal but it isn't finished yet and I think my mum was a bit worried but she doesn't know shiz. Ummmmmmm I think someone might be hacking into my computer. Ninja.

elaborating on the ornathological piece....

There is this pub called "the Bird" and I like it but there aren't any mirrors in the toilet and so I can't see if I have a goober in my eye or if I have whiskey teeth. That's like red wine teeth but it's when you are so drunk.

Wow! Wait a minute! I found out that my hip flask doubles as a mirror. You can be SO drunk AND soooo beautiful...well...um. meh.

There is an election going on. I think Penny Wong would have been a really cute baby.

See? She is chinese. Chinese babies are up there with Japanese babies, who are among the cutest in my racial judgement of cuteness. It's not racist if you have an immense love for the cute squishyness of the country's infant population.

Okay Brendan is perverting my creative process so I must go now and drink the wine. GROSS HE JUST LICKED MY FACE!

I WHOOPED BATMAN'S ASS. I WHOOPED BATMAN'S ASS. I WHOOPED BATMAN'S ASS.

...THERE SEEMS TO BE AN ABSENCE OF A CERTAIN ORNATHOLOGICAL PIECE

 

the many birth defects of beth

TODAY FUCKING SUCKS.

I HAVE NO FUCKING MONEY AND NO BOOZE. I DON'T KNOW WHO I AM GOING TO VOTE FOR IN THE ELECTION. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PRONOUNCE CINOTTO. I DON'T KNOW IF I AM ALLERGIC TO PEAS OR NOT. PEAS ARE NOT RELATED TO PEANUTS. THAT IS RIDICULOUS. I CAN'T PLAY THE GUITAR. I CAN'T PLAY THE FUCKING ACCORDION. MY COMPUTER IS TOO SLOW MY RENT IS TOO HIGH MY MOTHER IS FLIPPING OUT OH MY GOD BUT MY BOYFRIEND IS AWESOME. I AM LISTENING TO THE WORST PERIOD MUSIC.

..............................................

So anyway the other day I googled "flaming bag of poo DNA police" because I was thinking about putting a flaming bag of poo on somebody's doorstep but then I wondered if I should use some faeces other than my own, in case they can trace it back to my DNA (or frequent consumption of corn????). Yeah so I googled that and I REALLY wish I didn't.

It's funny though, because there are heaps of websites that are specifically for poop enthusiasts. I don't mean porn, you fucking weirdos, I mean toilet humour.

This shit is so wack.. So poopreport.com says that a schoolbus driver in Milwaukee repeatedly shat into plastic bags and threw her shitbags all over the goddamn town. Ha! Some concerned neighbour (who wishes only to be known as "Bob" and neglected to wear gloves whilst picking up this batshit lady' shit) set up video surveillance and she's actually smoking a cigarette at the same time! Ha....

I'm going to drink the ends of my fancy cask wine. Seriously, it's the best goon I ever bought. I'll never buy wine in a bottle again. I don't care what you think. You are stupid. Today is so shit. I don't know how to roll a cigarette.

whoreticulture / fagriculture

It is true. I am unnaturally excited about puns...

I just downloaded this Ludacris album and I can't think of one logical reason as to why it wasn't written solely for me. It's called Chicken 'n Beer for christ's sake!

So, I don't sleep much lately. This is definitely irritating, but during my restless nights I have discovered some amazing phenomena that has been vexing and enthralling me at the same time.

Every time I get out of bed to pee, no matter what time (2am, 4am, whatever), the woman in the apartment above me is PEEING AT THE SAME TIME. Sometimes I can even hear her pooing. What does this mean!? Do our bladders have some kind of psychic connection? Maybe it's like when women live in the same house and their periods start being in sync because of the phases of the moon or something. This happens on the reality TV series "Big Brother". It's pretty gross. Everyone flips out and no one can get disgusting live bogan tv sex.

At first I thought my toilet-nemesis was a man because they made a really loud wee noise, like it was hitting the water from far away, but I've been lead to believe that the man has moved out and now it's just a lady. I saw her once when it was dark outside and she had her blinds open. I don't like her. She looks like an Office Manager I once had who had acne but wore tonnes of orange make-up and hated me because I was always hungover. I'm not hungover today. The loud pisser-man probably moved out because she's so skinny and boring.

Next time we are peeing in unison, I will have to think of some way to confront her and find out why she insists on exacerbating my insomnia. I need to brainstorm. I don't have any clever ideas right now.

Also, I just googled "Why do farts smell worse in the shower?" and I got a VERY interesting answer:

"H2O, in the form of water vapor, easily attaches to methane molecules by the chlorine atom, or the sulfur released from bacteria, making the foul smell more readily attach to the nostril lining, subsequently sustaining the odor longer than in a dry climate. In addition, warm vapors will cause any crusted mucus to soften and disengage, providing more surface area within the sinuses. And lastly, (if you are male) the qualitive factor of "worse" is a perception of foreign gases - as to our own emissions, the qualitive factor is 'better'."

Some nerd has really done some extensive research. I wish I had a cool job like that...fart scientist. Technology is amAzing. 

Okay, I'm gonna go and not sleep now. Bleerrrgghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

P.S. Here is an interesting wikipedia link about carnivorous plants. There is one called a "bladder trap". It's terrifying. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carnivorous_plant

ole wonk-boob strikes again

God help us.

 

P.S. in my old house on Hutt Street there was this weird exhaust fan above the shower and I always thought I could see Hugh Grant's face looking at me. Isn't that horrible?

fatigue / fatty-gay

I am  so fucking  tired. I feel like I am actually retarded. It's not my fault though, I have what the naturopath called "adrenal fatigue" or some shit that basically means chill the fuck out or you'll die or something.

If you think that possessions can't make you happy, you're either a poor bastard or you're blind/deaf/want to ruin shit for everyone. I just spent $400 on a chinese accordion and I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to pay the rent. I also don't know how to play it but it is just soooo so beautiful. I need to stop shaving my head and not looking in the mirror afterwards. My undercut really wants me to be a buddhist monk like my great great uncles. I think it should be called Geraldine. Geraldine is pretty ugly but she's practical and knows how to amuse herself.

CASK WINE, HOW I LOVE YOU SO. 2fer at North Perth Liquorland almost makes moving house bareable.


Found almost an entire series of the 90's X-men cartoon....so stoked. So tired. Blehhhhhhhhh cash city splurge.

Have you ever noticed that Louis Armstrong looks heaps like a french bulldog? So does Oprah, but she's not so cute.

NO SLEEP 'TIL PIZZA.

ffffflip


P.S.  this woman:

scares the shit out of me.

Once a doctor told me to stop showering so much. Hmmmm.

atacama

Look at how awesome Christina is! There is so much milf booty going on in this photo I just don't know what to do with myself!

While my manfriend is out studying, I am compiling the ultimate playlist of slutty music. This includes Mariah, ODB, Kelis, Lil Kim and some 2pac. I also have some Cease which I think can sound slutty sometimes but I totally don't want to make out to music played by people I know. Except Tame Impala because that's outta my control. 

I need to stop going on Facebook when I'm drunk/hungover and don't know I'm still drunk. I just posted on my sister's wall: "anti-biotics give me thrush". I felt she might want to know, though.

Anyhow... Salma Hayek. mmmm.

Also Russell Brand can eat a bag of dicks. That guy is a fucking idiot if I ever saw one. Forreal. bleh.

Everyone should read about this - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atacama_Desert . So awesome.

heiress to many rabbits

Here is a picture of my parents before they flipped out and had a million kids:
 

 

I was an annoying child, I won't deny it. I wasn't very cute, either, so I guess it's probably my fault that they flipped their lids. My mum taught me good hygiene. That's one thing I use a lot in life.

delirum tremens / DT's

I have always thought that a state of constant drunkenness would be a most desirable lifestyle, but I never realised just how difficult it really is to achieve. For example, when I was fourteen, I listened to too much Crass and I did heaps of research into how an anarcho-passificistic society could effectively exist in today's world. It's a real nice idea but unfortunately there are way too many assholes that will fuck it up for the rest of us. You might have a sweet four-day bender, but eventually you are going to have to answer to Centrelink or your mum or some intervening so-and-so. Think about it! Are YOU ruining my life??? If so, shut up! I passed the liver function test so you can all get fucked!

Apparently at least two people read this shite that I continue to use as a means to publicly embarrass myself, so I must apologise for scarcity of posts. It's not that I have found Jesus, it's just that I have a boyfriend now and he is a decent venting substitute. Yeah, I have such a huge abundance of handsomeness in my life lately - it's like being in a P Diddy video. And I am Mariah Carey, minus the painkiller addiction and multiple marriages to crap producers. I may as well be half-black-half-irish, hey? Oh, Glitter.....

From Wikipedia:

Delirium tremens (colloquially, the DTs, "the shakes", "the horrors", "the heebie geebies", "the fear", "the abdabs", "the staggers and jags", "the jimjams", "jazz hands", "the shakes and the heaves", or "the rats"; afflicted individuals referred to as "jitterbugs" in 1930s Harlem slang); literally, "shaking delirium" or "'trembling madness" in Latin) is an acute episode of delirium that is usually caused by withdrawal from alcohol, first described in 1813.^[1][2] Benzodiazepines are the treatment of choice for delirium tremens (DT).^[3]

Man, I got a silly case of the jimjams.

I've had some problems with heart palpitations as of late. I feel like my heart is about to fly outta my chest all the time and I can't breathe. That's pretty annoying. I also get about two hours' sleep every night, so I'm pretty much retarded AND drunk most of the time. The good news is that I don't have to work for a few months so I plan to write a flipload of awesome music and then Centrelink won't make me get a supervised part-time job at Coles. Fluorescent lights are unflattering to even the most flawless complexion. That's why I am reluctant to go to heaps of art exhibitions..I always have bloodshot eyes! I saw a doctor about it once, and she said to use some drops, and we'll "keep an EYE on it".  HA HA HAAAaaaa shoulda been a god damn comedian. How come they don't give me lollypops when I go to the doctor any more? I'm super brave! I didn't even cry when I had to have a pap smear and afterwards the lady was like "Oh, here is a fucking huge sanitary pad/nappy, in case you BLEED for a little while". I wanted to hit her with the shoe horn she just put into my vag. Worst experience ever. At least I know I don't have AIDS or the herp, though. That would be real shit. No genital warts for me! Hurrah!

My sister said the world is going to be overrun by zombies in the near future. Whaaa???

I know nobody likes to read big books without pictures, so here is something to help ease your ADD:

DON'T! DON'T! DON'T BITE YOUR FRIENDS!

Nawwww. Just thinking about doing all these dishes is giving me a headache. I'm going to try to go to sleep now. With any luck, I won't just lay here in an exhausted stupor for three hours. Tally-ho!

sex injuries

Ouuuuuuuuuch!

I think it might be the L word (and I don't mean lesbian).


My favourite kind of clouds are the wispy ones. I don't know the technical term for this but don't tell me because it will ruin everything. I sometimes get scared when I can see peoples' faces in clouds because they almost always look a bit evil.  Today I saw a man with dark sunken eyes that was blowing smoke into another man's face. He kind of looked like Gargamel from the Smurfs. I also see creepy faces in the carpet sometimes. What does this mean? (rhetorical question, fuck off)

good cheap wine and a three-day growth

I get the feeling that Ita Buttrose would be pretty badass if you got to know her. People that have speech impediments have to be tough so that they don't get the piss taken out of them.

So anyway the Jimmy Barnes Challenge is something I've been contemplating for some time. To be successful, you need to be a bit skinny, drink an entire bottle of vodka or drambuie and sing completely fucking awesome. I know that I am genetically predisposed to having a liver of steel, so I have a head start, but I might need to work out for a little while beforehand.

The manatee is commonly know as the "sea cow" and has whiskers all over him. Not quite as awesome as the narwhal, manatees are thought to have evolved from four-legged animals about 60 million years ago. They are mostly solitary creatures, and the name manatí comes from the Taíno, a pre-Columbian people of the Caribbean, meaning "breast". Hahaha - breast! So magical.

dysphonia = DOOM

I'm freaking out. I'm really freaking out. What if I have vocal nodules? I'm supposed to be recording in two weeks and I sound like a broken ass! Ohhhhhshit.

I'm not sure how long I have been drunk for. It's been a few days. Two gigs in a row and both days I pretty much shat into the microphone in front of a hundred people. My nurse-friend (she's so, so pretty) thinks it's laryngitis, but I'm inclined to think the absolute worst. On Saturday I played at the Rosemount and a girl whose name I can't pronounce told me that the best cure for a sore throat when you need to sing is black sambucca, not whiskey, so I thought I'd cover all bases and surrounded myself on stage with red wine, jamesons and black sambucca. My only memory is gargling whiskey on stage and the remainder is rather a blur, so to speak. My friend Lake said that I was singing a chorus and when it came to the part where I repeat it, I just said "etcetera, ecetera!". That's kind of funny. I wonder if the audience shared my humour.

So I did some research, and learned that heaps of super-amazing singers have had surgery for nodules. So it doesn't mean I'm a bad singer, it just means that I am loud...a lot. That's comforting but if I take a break everything will turn to rubbish. It's all about momentum!

Ohhh frig I think I have a 90's dance compilation injury. And someone dropped a gin bottle on my foot and now there is a bruise. I'm really interested in the life cycles of bruises. The way they change colour, it's so fascinating. I like the reddish purple of day 2, but am not so fond of the yellowy end. The exception of course, is hickeys, which are abominable.

There was a keg made out of a giant bin. I saw a dude that I had an ENORMOUS crush on a few months ago and I like to think that my behaviour was icy, but mature. Like...something made of ice that isn't freezing your nuts enough to hurt you, just make you aware that the possibility exists so you've gotta rug up.

I'm going to lay down and attempt to refrain from speaking for a whole day. I'm thinking about narwhals again.

nice work if you can get it

I have unrealistic standards. This sometimes proves to be a little overwhelming. 

I'm trying to detox today, but it's such beautiful weather for beer. Meanwhile, I only have red wine and one and a half bottles of whiskey in the house, and beggars can't be choosers eh? I have been recording a demo of a new song, and there are all these birds on Mary Street today which are making beautiful atmospheric background noise for me. Okay, red wine it is then. I can't really drink beer and sing anyway, unless you don't mind me burping mid-note (some people have found it funny in the past).

it's not a tumour

I'm always tired. I've been this way since I was about eleven years old. I've had countless blood tests, naturopathy, chiropractic, accupuncture, thyroid function tests and all that jive but nobody knows what is wrong. I get stupid chest pains and I swear it is cancer.

Deep down, I think I'm just waiting for the right excuse to shave my eyebrows off.

fat is the new skinny

So it turns out that the reason I have put on...I dunno...like....eight kilos in the last five years....is because my liver is made out of crystalised whiskey!

So what to do about this? The following options briefly crossed my mind:

a)  Liver transplant

b)  Open orphanage in Myanmar (if you have good kharma you can balance out your vices)

and then I got distracted so I didn't think of anything else. But cessation of mind-altering substances was most certainly in the back of my mind...

What's a metabolism? How can a potato be bad for me? Didn't GOD make marijuana too? This argument could get deep if I wasn't so wasted from last night's beers, plus just doing 4km on the fucking treadmill.

A guy I know just advertised his membership of a Facebook group called "Join if you have an awesome Asian girlfriend". This made me angry because, besides it being a blatant stereotyping of oriental women (think of movies like The Castle where the crusty old Aussie "bloke" marries a young Chinese lady that is only interested in shoving ping pong balls up her vagina and has that horrible shrill, high-pitched whine), I happen to know his girlfriend and I know that she would be proud of this. Some chicks just need a good slap in the head. Most boys do, too. I suppose this guy thinks all Asian girls have small vaginas and are good cooks.

Can't be bothered continuing this rant. Next time I see this dude I'm gonna slip some ballachaung down his fucking pants and then he can see how hot Eurasian chicks are. I happen to have some fugly female relatives, by the way.

I would like it if it was still fashionable to have a figure like these Renoir ladies:

 

I would also like to add that fashion blogs are the most boring waste of time ever and I would rather spend my time sharpening pencils with my anus, so stop making them. Okay.

chivas-me-timbers!

One of my best girls bought me a bottle of Chivas Regal whiskey for my birthday. Normally I drink Jameson's, but when a gift is given with love it is always awesome. Like once Storm bought me a hula hoop for my 21st and my (then) boyfriend peed on it in the middle of the night and I was soooo upset. I was upset about having to clean up a grown man's boozey piss outta my fireplace, but mostly about the desecrated hula hoop.

It's Wednesday and this morning I forgot to take my medication and was seeing blurry shapes all day. I took my nephew to Garden City (This isn't a "garden" city.  It's a shopping mall crammed with bored mothers with too much cash and elderly folks that seem to have permanently confused expressions) and we walked around saying "sssssssss!" at everything. He is so squishy and likes old jazz ladies as much as I do (his partiality for Judy Garland isn't an issue at this stage - not that it would be....). Anyway, I'm okay now. I won't forget again.

When I was four years old my mammy sent me to jazz ballet. I had a pink chiffon tutu, a little brown belly and sun-streaked hair. Being a four-year-old, I wasn't able to do the splits, and so they leaned on my shoulders and tried to force me down. Being a strong-willed toddler, I screamed at them, stomped my leotard-clad ass outta there and vowed to make their name mud all over Mandurah. To this day I still can't do the splits...I wonder if my life would have been different if..................?

In conclusion:  Chivas Regal, 7 out of 10, or 8 if it was a gift from someone super special like Ainslie and Oboe.

24 years and 2 days since the comet came 'round

When I was sixteen years old, I was lucky enough to be able to move out of my parents' house and into a shitty rental with my sister.  I didn't get along with my folks real good (that's putting it super lightly) and my sister happened to be working away at a gold mine so she had some cash to help me out. We got robbed a few times but it was better than before. I also believe that, because I was alone most of the time, I really started to learn how to sing properly that year. I also credit this to Bradley Nowell (February 22, 1968 – May 25, 1996), but I think about other people more nowadays..

I remember when I was fourteen and I was going through "that difficult stage" where all you want is to get your braces off, get a million tattoos/piercings and lose your virginity because you've listened to so much Hole and Nirvana that you really have no will to live. I said to myself, "When I get a job I'm going to move into an awesome place and I'll have a dog and get drunk all the time and there will be an endless supply of skittles."  Then I moved out and bought two pet mice that actually froze to death in the first 24 hours because the house was so horribly cold.

I don't have a dog yet because I can't really afford one and I wouldn't know where to put it.  Nevertheless, I am sitting in my flat, drinking whiskey in the middle of the day and recording demos for my new EP and I'm thinking, geeeez, it didn't turn out as bad as I thought it would, huh?

Mama named me after a comet. This is kinda lame in a cheesy romantic Disney way, but at least I have a story. I can't believe I'm 24.  I mean, I don't care about my age (most of my buddies are older anyway), but it just seems like yesterday that I was sitting in the Hydey (that was a pub - may god rest it's sticky soul), having a jug poured on my head while the Homicides sang "Thank You Beer" and thinking it was the best night of my life so far.

I think I've got a pretty long way to go, but if I make it, it's allll good from here. Let's not forget that I have also made it this far with ZERO STD's, which is more than I can say for some.

Here's a picture of me when I was 16. Man, I had absolutely NO boobs whatsoever then. Gross hair, too.

yay!

MY WEEK SO FAR: A PICTORIAL

p.s. Mum says not to buy the thingys with wings coz they'll ruin your fancy lingerie. Thanks, Mum.

i hate the radio and the radio hates me

Allowing one day for detox. I decided this was a pertinent action for a Mondey morning because yesterday I was SO excited about beer that I chipped a little bit of my tooth on a beer bottle. It was funny at the time and I'm not real upset about it so you should't be. I would allow my liver a longer respite, but tomorrow is Beau's birthday and it would be selfish to go to the pub and just stare at everyone.

This morning I woke up with a nursery rhyme stuck in my head that wouldn't stop repeating. It was pretty annoying. "Pease pudding hot, pease pudding cold. Pease pudding in the pot, nine days old". Wha? Why?

Elliot has learned to walk. It is hilarious. Look at how funny he is! Even though he spits on me and wipes his nose on me, he is my most favourite friend ever.

i wanna be down

Hahahaaa

If I get a dog he is gonna be called Moesha. What's up, brother?

I got a bad letter in the post today...I think Centrelink are gonna cut me off because I'm not doing my homework. Sheeeet.

gangrinous mentality

I don't care if you can all see me through my window in my underpants from my new apartment, because I just got home, it's 3am, and I have a very strong urge to write some rubbish down. If I don't open the window I will die of heat stroke so fuck you if you don't like my blue underpants, idiots.

Break it down:::: this weekend I was on tour in Melbourne (that's a city on the east coast that is supposedly better than Perth but everyone there's jeans are so tight that the limited blood flow to their brain leads them to great retarded customer service but no actual meaningful lives), played a couple shows, survived what was apparently the worst storm since some other terrible storm that I am unaware of....I stayed in a hotel and didn't care if the people in the building across the way could see me in my stuff because I was paying for it and that is their problem.

Having this brought to my attention in the past, I became quite aware of my irritable nature whilst experiencing a "hangover", and did nothing to improve this, beside switching from whiskey to beer. I would like it to be known that whilst travelling towards a cafe on Lygon Street, I saw the most hilarious smear of human faeces upon the local LIbrary wall. Whoever did this really hates knowledge or cannot read for buggery.,

I miss Anjay a bit. She is a good friend and she is far away but I am terrible at saving money and worry that I might let her down and never be able to afford to travel to my friend.

nephew obsession. nephsession?

I have 23 freckles. Two years ago I only had 19. So on average I get two new freckles a year. So theoretically, that means by the time I am 90, I will have 134 freckles. That is A LOT. I better start wearing more sun protection.

As a result of free booze at a poetry reading, I can't complete any simple tasks today. My mind is mush and it's still so hot. I'm going to pretend that I'm on holiday in Vietnam again and maybe that will give me some motivation to go outside. 

Okay, cold shower.


p.s. I am obsessed with my nephew but it doesn't mean I want to have kids of my own.

moustachio banderas

I really like obnoxious men. Especially if they have a moustache. I especially like saying the word moustache. If you say it a lot, it doesn't feel like a real word.

So I've been doing this new job for a month now, typing letters for psychiatrists. It's so funny. It's like following a soap opera, except way weirder. There is this one woman who is obsessed with dirty air particles, and every time she gets stressed out, she starts fanning the air like crazy. Oh geez, I crap myself writing this shit. And I am SOOO fast at typing. I really wish I could play guitar as awesome as I can type. Obnoxious dudes would dig it heaps.

I played the worst gig last night. I have a cold and I forgot everything and I was way too drunk. Moustache Man was like, "I am so much better than you...". Next time I see him I'm gonna poke him in the eye. With a burnt stick.Oh dear.

p.s. my scab is a lot better now, thanks.

p.p.s it's 42 degrees. I'm beached as.

gin for dinner = ginner

 

I reckon the worst mistake is when people get "your" and "you're" wrong. 

E.g. "Your a dickhead". My dickhead? 

Nicked from BoingBoing's "Fun With Punctuation" article.

booby

Uh oh. I've been drunk for four days and I am signing up to all these feminist petitions online n shit. I haven't worn clothes in ages. Woke up on Jamie and Gemma's couch at 5am this morning, and it was SO comfortable and squishy but I had to leave because I knew I probably was drooling. Also I think I should clarify from my previous post that if a guy calls you "dawg" in an email, it means that he has "just gotten out of a pretty messy relationship" and "probably won't be quite right for some time" etc. Don't worry though because there's like, a lot of fish or something.

I'm moving house. I don't know how I am expected to carry anything up three flights of stairs.

Is it wrong if I like Katy Perry? Are there permanent implications of this? Are her boobs real? My boobs are awesome.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

BFG

Tonight I saw someone drink their own wee, not for money or anything. It wasn't really a big deal, though. I'm sure there was some point to be proven, but I wasn't following the argument and was just given the task of smelling the wee to make sure it was actually wee. It smelled like lime. And then we had an argument about whether or not to shoot a gun in the back yard. Of course it was only loaded with blanks, but the owner was too margerita'd out. Shame.

Happy birthday Mouthy and Mikey. 25 aint as old as it feels.

..Who put Coldplay on my computer? Someone's gonna pay for this. Okay bed time. Geez. That's ruined everything now.

wang dang doodle // part two

Okay second post for the day = I spend way too much time on the internet. However, I'm just wondering, if a guy calls you "dawg" in an email, does that mean he only likes you as a friend?

And another thing. Yesterday I asked the nurse if my scab was going to leave a scar and he said, "Ohhahhh, it's all part of yer look". What the fuck does that mean? I am a scarred up trashbag? Flipping hell.

wang dang doodle

Today I thought I had lost heaps of weight because my jeans were super-loose, but then I realised it was just because I hadn't washed them for a few months and they were getting all baggy and covered in various food stains. Bummer.

Anyhow, it's okay to be fat because fat people can sing really awesome (sometimes) and therefore I can justify singing the blues because nobody loves me because I'm too fat and drunk, but I'm too fat because I drink a lot and I want to sing awesome. Don't worry, this does actually make sense.

Speaking of drinking a lot, I noticed that every time I drink I tend to love everyone more than usual, but also dislike myself more than usual. This is a fairly vicious cycle which, in turn, leads me to love people that I wouldn't normally love. Such as dudes that have tattooed portaits of their dog on their arm. I admit I have some pretty lame tatts, but I got them when I was eighteen, not 26. So, in conclusion, I need to like myself more and everyone else less.

Over the past few months, I've been compiling an alphabetised list of words that don't necessarily mean something funny, but sound like they are something funny. I'm going to publish this list. It is hilarious. Every time a newsreader says something like "plume" or "flanel", I rush to my notebook of ingenious ideas and add it to the list.

Today I'm going to shave some more of my head. This is purely functional, however I do enjoy the reaction it elicits in grandparents. I also just bought a shirt that has a picture of Chairman Mao on it and it says "LMAO". This is pretty much the funniest thing I've seen in my life.

Ha!

pus in boots

Too much to do. I want to go back to bed and sleep for at least another three weeks.

healthy calories

What if you had a huge goober in your eye and nobody told you? I wish I had a way of identifying these selfish so-and-so's who choose not to speak up. I've always thought that if I did get a dog, he will be a pug called Goober. My friend says that breeding pugs is wrong because they have spinal deformities which can effect their internal organs but I would like to have a little snuffly friend that has birth defects like me. Like, I am allergic to camels and this makes my life extremely difficult. What a burden huh.

I also have a substantial spinal deformity, but this isn't so visible to the untrained eye. Chiropractors, on the other hand, are bastards and always wanna tell you that you are basically going to hell because the hormones in chicken are a slow, silent killer. For fuck's sake! "POSTURE IS THE WINDOW TO YOUR FUCKING HEALTH! BUY THIS UNCOMFORTABLE PILLOW!"

This scab on my leg is so itchy it's driving me crazy but on the whole, life is good!

please don't feed the birds

When I was a kid, I always lived really close to the ocean. Back then I used to hate seagulls, because they were everywhere. They pecked and scavenged and tried to eat my chips. Nowadays, I feel guilty if I eat chips because I'm affected by photoshopped people with no pores and I'll never really know just how much pubic hair is acceptable from one person to another. Nowadays I always feel happy when I see a seagull, even if it is only on the freeway. I miss living near the ocean, always wearing next to nothing, knowing exactly what was expected.

your face is...

Flipping hell it is so hot today. The landlady said I had really "groovied up" my flat. So I took down the pictures of 50's pinup girls and replaced them with pictures of narhwals and Galapagos island tortoises, like this one:


Lately, about every 2 days or so, I am woken at 8:30am by Snoop Dogg. This is because I don't have a better ring tone, and also because someone at the Fremantle Family Doctors' office REALLY wants to see my vagina. I'm not kidding. They call me ALL the time - "This is Kendall, you need to book in for a pap smear, PLEASE let us give you a pap smear!"... (possible dramatisation). Fuck you Kendall. That's no way to woo a lady.

Started reading one of Aung San Suu Kyi's books. Need inspiration to stop staring at the wall thinking about not staring at the wall.