The worst part about Xmas...

Is the shopping.

I propose this badge should say: "Get the fuck out of my way. Or else I will poke your eyes out, pull your hair, throw my first born son at your head and spit on you before you get that Simpsons beer mug before me... bitch."

Why is it that Xmas shopping turns all women into nasty spawns of Satan?

I'm not sure... but I'm scared.

Yesterday while I was having a stressful time just navigating my way around a department store, a woman approached me.

In my hand, I had my first Xmas present of the year - a Super Soaker water pistol for my little brother.

"How much do you want for it?" she said to me, glaring at the hot property in my hands.

"What?!?!" I said whilst looking behind me for secruity.

"That!!! I will give you 100 bucks" she whispered. (It's worth 50)

"No", I said.

"Why not!?!?!?!?" she raised her voice.

"Dude, it's not even December yet. Get a hold of yourself" I said to her, smirking...

I fully expected steam to come out of her ears.

She just whispered to me, "Please, it's the last one... my son has cancer, he's very sick".

She was lying. Well I'm pretty sure she was.

"Just TAKE IT!!... I don't want your money, JUST TAKE IT!!!, I hate you!, you cheap lying bitch".

And she walked away smiling and laughing.

I kicked a cardboard cut out of Hilary Duff and stormed out of the shop.

Fuck her. What a liar.

I wanted the super soaker more than my brother would. I guess it was a bit of a selfish present anyway.

But is this what Xmas has come too??? Lying about sick children to make people feel guilty into handing over water guns?!?!

Geez...

Random sweet nothings

Dinner with my Dad tonight: I enjoy the 40 minute drive to the outer suburbs. I love hanging with my Dad. Tonight it's dinner and a Steve McQueen double. Perhaps The Getaway and Bullit. Or maybe something else. Hmm. Whatever it is, it will make me want to be Ali Macgraw in the 60/70's pre divorces, pre alcoholism, pre old.

Saturday will be spent at the gym and voting. State election here. What a fucken waste of 30 minutes. Saturday night will be a quiet dinner with a newer friend who bores the hell out of me. Don't get me wrong - lovely girl. Just not crazy enough for me. She thinks I'm crazy cool. She told me. I always feel like quoting Jack in "One flew over the cuckoo's nest": Is that crazy enough for ya, want me to take a shit on the floor?! Hmmm.... If I get bored enough, you never know! Maybe that will losen her up a bit. Maybe holding her shoulders and voilently shaking her will get her to lighten up. I dunno. Maybe she is just boring. Maybe she is just what I need.

Upon the realisation that it is only 4 weeks until Christmas and 1 week until the beginning of another Australian summer, I felt an uncomfortable wave of anxiety.
Too many parties, not enough money for gifts, the need to have a bikini body that makes Jessica Alba look like a depressed, fat housewife. You know, really important things.

So, low and behold, I have begun going to the gym. You heard right.

Arggh.

The gym.

The word makes we want to vomit. What a vile, depressing little word.

But, low and behold I actually enjoy working out.

Actually I am very lucky to only need to start doing this now. I thank my mother for forcing me to join ballet when I was 5, because 15 years of body conditioning has served me well, up until now. Perhaps my body is telling me something.
Gone are the days when I had a beer for breakfast, a few cups of coffee and a burger to get through the day.
Now, I need to eat breakfast, lunch, dinner and excercise. Fuck life is boring sometimes.
But we do what we have to to prevent our asses sagging to our ankles, I suppose.

I got an electric beater for my birthday. Sounds more fun than it is. I've been baking cakes and painting things. I have discovered that I am truly a fucking great painter and cook. No really, I'm fucking great. I almost can't stand it people. Really... I promise. I'll paint you something if you ask nicely, but I don't do requests. I'm way too good for that.

This post was a piece of crap.

I'm deliriously tired.

Thank you.

Up yours, G20

My morning:

Following my timely arrival at my train stop in the city this morning, I was feeling pretty good.

Coffee in my hand, I took the long escalater ride to the top of the subway and was welcomed by an upbeat promotional guy handing out free boxes of cereal. "Sweet, free breaky. Life is good"

As I made my way along the tunnel to the exit, I noticed a few people getting their umbrellas out.
I listened to the weather man this morning, so was appropriately prepared and took out my trusty black umbrella.

As I walked up the stairs to street level, I noticed how incredibly shitty the weather was.
"Two weeks from summer and we are shivering our asses off", I thought to myself.

Despite the rain, cold and howling wind - nothing was going to dampen my spirit. I was feeling pretty darn good.

I began my 10 minute walk to the office. Crossing over Collins Street and cutting through the Novotel.
The warmth was welcoming and I could smell the aroma of fruit toast and coffee wafting through the plaza.

I noticed a newly opened Christmas Shop in the foyer and made my way to the entrance, marveling at the bright lights and "Ho Ho Ho's" from the Santa statue in the doorway. I walked through the ailes running my fingers through the sparkling tinsel.

Before I knew it, it was 8:25. I quickly shuffle my way to the revolving doors and starting walking along Flinders Lane.

This is what I saw.




"What the hell have I stepped into?!?" I said out loud.

A burly, bearded old man said: "It's the G20 luv, we are all gonna die!"

"Oh, thanks."

Great - a punch of wanker politicians and economic advisors wanking each other off is going to stop me from getting to work. Anyhoo, I continued on my merry way until I made it to the road block.

I spotted a young, cute policeman standing in front of the barriers.

"Can I get through?" I asked him.

"Nup", he said.

"My office is only 100 metres away", I said.

"That's nice", he said.

I have him my cute face thinking it would be enough to make him melt and give in. Lifting me up and lowering me to the other, cuter cop on the other side of the barrier.

Yeah right.

"Quit pouting princess, move it along" he said while pointing to the laneway detour.

By this time the rain and wind were getting worse and worse.
I was still trying to juggle my coffee, my umbrella and keep my dress from flying up over my head.
The swirling wind was howling through the cobblestone laneway and the rain come down from every angle.

My mood isn't good anymore.

Then as someone brushed past me, I get poked in the side of my face with an umbrella, causing me to drop my hot coffee all over my shoes.

"Watch were you are going asshole!!" I said to the fuck stick.

He keeps running in the opposite direction, much like any man would after seeing the look on my face.

I keep walking through the laneway in the opposite direction of my office. My now wet heels are getting stuck between the stones and I look like I've broken my ankle. By now, I'm so wet that my hair is matted to my face. Any makeup that I so carefully applied only an hour before was gone and boy did I have a sour look on my face.

I get to Flinders Street. I turn right into Russell street and face more barriers and asshole cops.

"You can't get through here missy" I heard.

"WELL MR POLICEMAN, CAN YOU KINDLY TELL ME HOW THE FUCK I AM SUPPOSED TO GET TO MY FUCKEN OFFICE!!!"

"Walk down to Swantston street and up the other way" he replied with a smirk and I heard people laughing.

WIthout another word, I stomped off toward my destination which seemed like it was getting further and further away.

I though, this seriously can't get any worse. I look like shit, I'm wet, hungry, my feet hurt and I'm late for work.

But then it did get worse.

I turned the corner and there was my Ex.

FUCK!!

Great timing.

I tried to duck between two tall guys hoping he wouldn't see me, but it was too late.

He waved and came towards me.

I waved and kept walking.

He ran up beside me and tried to make conversation.
At the same time, scanning my hands looking for a ring. (Wanker)

He told me I looked well ( I didn't), asked if I wanted to catch up some time (I didn't) and I just kept walking until he got the idea.

Finally I made it to work looking like a drowned rat with a hangover, slump my tired body into the lift and upon arriving at the door to my office, realise I've left my keys at home.

UP YOURS G20!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Loud and Proud

Eventhough I felt like death warmed up on Sunday - Saturday night (my birthday) was pretty good.

A few things really pissed me off:
1) A few of my friend's lack of effort to even show up. No phone call, no text message. Nothing.
2) A couple of the people that did decide to show up, had better things to do and left soon after dinner.
3) The nasty letter we received about "noise pollution" the following day.

What I'm going to do about it:
1) Ditch those friends. Whatever the excuse. Life is too short.
2) Be extremely bitchy to those "friends" until they hate me and ultimately ditch me. Life is too short.
3) NEVER have a "party" again.

Let me paint a picture for you my friends.

It's Saturday night.
I have spent all day shopping and cooking. (I had a BBQ, the casino night was too much effort)
5-10 people show up at about 8 o'clock.
We have drinks and a chat.
We cook and eat.
More drinking, more chatting.
Mostly outside because it was a beautiful night.
Some music is playing. I could hardly hear it.
We leave at 10:15pm to go and party in the city.

On Monday we recieve a letter from the fucking body corporate committee saying that "various people" complained about the "excessive noise". "This is a quiet block and we endeavour to do anything possible to keep it that way". No noise is allowed to be heard outside your unit at ANY TIME".

Excuse me. But what the fuck!!!!!!

I can't count the amount of times I have heard "noise" from outside other peoples units.
For one, the pillow biter next door likes to get his leave blower out at 8am on Sundays. I can't tell you how happy that makes me after rolling (falling) in the door only a couple of hours before.
Next, the other neighbours ugly kids singing at the top of their lungs while their crazy mother screams at them to stop.
The list goes on...

I am so angry about this. Because it was hardly a party. It went for 2.5 hours. It was Saturday night. It was EARLY! It was the first of it's kind at Villa YGF and we wern't that loud.

And I know who it was.

The fuckwit pilow biting, leave blowing poof who is the president of the committee.

What a low life ass.

Get a life.

Anyhoo, on another note.

Clive Owen would have been a much cooler and better looking Bond, than that pussy Daniel Craig.

Don't you think so?!

Happy B'day to me!

Hello to all of you sexy bitches.

It's my birthday on the 8th. I'm 24.

Feel free to send me a birthday message, item of clothing, a cute puppy or a sexy poem if you like - I will jump up and down on the spot really fast, singing something by Queen for every message I get. I promise.

This will also mark my 150th post!
So I wanted to thank the handful of people that have stuck around and listened to my crap for so long.
I admire each and every one of you for being intelligent, funny and just plain cool. Your blogs always keep this crazy bitch with a crazy smile on her face.

So I'm guessing you are all DYING to know what I will be doing on my birthday?

Well - check this.

Things I will be doing on my birthday... in exact order.

1. Getting out of bed at 6am *sigh*
2. Having a shower.
3. Getting dressed.
4. Packing my bag.
5. Get in car.
6. Drive to campus.
7. Wait until cafe opens, whilst having painful caffine withdrawls, squashing my nose up against the glass, wishing I had a gun.
8. Sit an exam from 9:15am - 12noon.
9. Run to car park.
10. Get in car.
11. Drive to nearest pub.
12. Buy beer.
13. Repeat.

I think you get the idea.

On Saturday I am hosting a little birthday bash. A casino night where gambling, laughing and drinking is mandatory and brain cells, money and clothing are optional. It's gonna be a blast. Wish you would all be there!

Anyhoo, I won't be back til after that, so stay out of trouble. I'll be doing enough drinking, dancing, stripping, gambling and "Woo Hooing" and various other naughty things to cover all of you. Promise.

xxxoxoxoxoxoxooooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxxoxoxoxo

Thursday Thirteen ... on monday

Because Queen Slack told me to...

1. I like anchovies. I eat them straight out of the tin.

2. I'm a country girl who lives in the city.

3. I prefer dogs to cats.

4. I play online poker (play money) quite a lot.

5. I always get the Sesame Street theme song stuck in my head.

6. I get road rage. Very bad.

7. I listen to The Cure a lot at the moment.

8. I'm scared of horses and birds, but think they are extremely beautiful creatures.

9. My guily pleasure during exams is watching The Gilmore Girls and The Anna Nicole Smith show. Mindless enterainment is bliss.

10. I have a birthmark on my ass.

11. I drink loads of water, but still manage to get a big fat zit 2 days before my birthday!!!!!!!!!!!

12. I haven't eaten anything today. It's 3.40pm.

13. I'm always late.

Thank you.

The Bitch is Back

Hey kids.

Forgive me for neglecting you. Work, exams and life in general have been kickin my little ass.

But I'm surviving and it's only 5 days until my birthday!!!

This past year has flown by and for some reason turning 24 is scaring me a little.
Don't worry, I'm not whinging about getting older - it's just that when I think back to when I was little, and what I thought my life would be like at this age... I'm a little disappointed. I haven't travelled overseas. I haven't won the lottery and bought a life times supply of beer. I don't work from home. I don't have a maid or a chef. I don't have a sex slave. Or the entire series of The Simpsons on DVD. I don't have a big screen TV. Or a Mercedes convertable. Damn. This life blows the big one!

Anyhoo, I thought I might answer your questions. I'm guessing most of you have lost interest by now... but just fucking read them.

Big Baz - I shave and wax. Depending on how much time I have. Depending on the area. Sometimes simultaneously. Fuck I'm talented.

Amazing Annie - There are plenty of places I would rather be right now - Naked and tied to Matthew McConaughey’s bed… for one. But really… on a day like today – a stunning 32 degrees.
I’d rather be with family and friends in a park somewhere, having a BBQ and kicking the footy around. I’m simple like that.

Taught and Teriffic Two $ - The last time I felt incredibly guilty about something was when I was having a lap dance from a hot stripper. The reason I felt guilty was because I had given J quite a lot of grief for doing the same thing only weeks before - perhaps it was spite. I'm not sure.

Jivey Jangly Jen - My biggest accomplishment Jen, has been managing to balance full time work, part time study, ad-hoc research work (for an author), voluntary work (with animals) and quite a lot of hell-bent partying.

Sometimes this balancing act is an absolute nightmare and I feel like I’m going to end up in a mental asylum. Sometimes it’s rewarding, because I’m working towards something. Sometimes, it’s just life!

Biggest Regret – I can’t think of anything that I totally regret. Perhaps not sticking up for myself more when I was younger. But I guess that is something I have learnt with age…. And now, if anyone gets my goat up, I tell them straight to their face that they are a bullshit wanker. It's great. Give it a go!

The sumptuous Shrewness - Day in the life of any living person? Tom Cruise – so I could commit suicide. The world will be a better place…

Tits out Tammy – I’m begging J to take me to Vegas next year… so you never know!!!! I may be in the States at any given time!

Congratulations on setting the date! XOXOXXOXOX

Adorable AAA - Your question is arguably the most difficult I have ever been asked. Congratulations.

So there you have it hotties. Hope your Halloween was fantastic.