Polymorphous, Pop-Star Love

There's a distinct possibility that I may lose readers by admitting that I kind of really (secretly completely) dig Jessie J.

Haven't listened to commercial radio since you argued with Mum on the way to primary school about not wanting to listen to Radio National? She's this super-sexy girl from the UK who sings that song called price tag. The one that has that really catchy line 'aint about the cha-ching, aint about the ba-bling, ba-bling'. If you haven't heard it see it here

Apart from really wanting a derelict , larger-than-life teddy, it forces me to make fists of my hands, mouth the lyrics exaggeratedly and move my arms around manically. Listen and you might understand the movement I can't quite describe.

Should my obsession be a guilty pleasure? Who cares, she can DoItLikeADude for me anytime.

Peace!  EvilBoy

Stolen From Frankie #2

I plucked up the courage to leave the house today. Which, to tell you the truth, is a pretty mean feat - but I'm sick to death of my pyjamas with three blind mice carrying a plate of cheese and the shirt I stole from my Dad that says 'foolish behaviour' on the back with the i's dotted on the bottom for some reason (a reference to his boat, not his character. mostly).

Anyway I went for a gander and bought a Frankie. Now, I used to live in college with a girl who had an orgasmic voice, impeccable taste in housewares and clothing and reads Frankie religiously. I used to sit in her neat little college room lamenting the fact that mine smelt of moulding-somethings and dirty sheets and look at all the pretty pictures on pretty paper wishing my life fit into a pretty little mould like her room did.

Anyway Sian stole a list-idea from Frankie and I've just spent the past hour reading about creative-people (whom, admittedly seem like the kind of people I detest. I bet they don't enjoy Buffy or watching Miss Maple with their mummies) and I'm sick-to-death of the magazine. Sorry to those who read it religiously, but the only thing I like about this publication is the paper it's printed on. If I see one more not-so-subtle limedrop or romance was born reference I will scream.

So here are my own answers to the questions being asked of all these creative-types who can make pretty things I can't afford and own shops at ridiculously young ages.

What do you do? My average day at the moment consists of waking around noon, having a cup-a-soup and considering whether I should go back to sleep or try and read more about gender. I tend to try and avoid the fact that on paper I attend University. Or the fact that I am alive is sometimes too much to handle when I'm suffering for the previous night's spontaneous four bottles of $7 Cab Merlot cleanskin purchased from Brunswick Cellars.
How did you start out? With a lot of fluids and a hairy, 10cm dilated vagina.
What challenges have you recently overcome? What? Other than putting two feet to the ground and being vertical for approximately eight hours everyday? This morning I had a headache, but had to struggle through my glass of Riesling anyway.
What are you here for? What? On Earth? To cause a riot. No! To deteriorate my liver? To grow old, achieve little and eventually stop dreaming.
What's one thing we should know about you? I'm an Optimist!
What do you stand for? A greater understanding of the implications different body technologies have upon genders and sexualities. Oh, world peace blahblah loving neighbours (I actually do love my neighbours. Alex-the-Russian only speaks about them in hushed tones, claiming them to be 'drug dealers'. Bigfoot calls them Up-sters) and um. The transformative power of a good bottle of Cab Sav.
What did you want to be when you were little? An astronaut (which until 30 seconds ago I thought was spelt Astronaught.

Do I make the cut for Frankie's pretty-papers?

the Hair Interwebs Trawl

Every once in a while (usually when I have oodles too much time to myself) I decide that it is time to CUT ALL MY HAIR OFF. So I've been checking the internet out for ideas. Starting with vogue italia...

Then, naturally I got distracted by fashion blogs and came across this:

It would take me a lot of money and time to get my hair this colour(s) and length. But it's somewhat tempting...

Guilty pleasures.

If you don't know I'm on somewhat of a health kick at the moment and it has made me consider my guilty pleasures. These include smoking and drinking and the odd binge of both, but also music tastes and movies. Here's a list:


- savage garden.
- breakfast at tiffanys. In a moment of hungover-clarity the Hussy and I decided to bake savoury muffins which have since been named cheese monsters. In between baking, vomiting and smoking her, Muffin and I partook in some viewing of breakfast at tiffanys and I realised that I know all of the scenes quite well...
- aqua. No night time, drunken expedition to Sydney road is complete without a lot of aqua.
- Muffin and I have a penchant for TaTu. It's all in the wet, lesbian kiss...
- lady gaga, beyonce, Britney (sister al and co saw her live...)
- i dled Missy elliot's discography. Best amount of dl limit I ever wasted on torrents
- my hoe down boots. The shoes themselves arent particularly shameful, but they force me to do the grapevine, clap a lot and ask anyone in a close enough vicinity if they can do-si-do.
- perseverance. That's not a positive attribute, it's a dirty club. For those of you who don't know it's on Brunswick st and Friday nights are nineties nights. Beware the slippery floor.
- toasted cheese sandwiches. Bigfoot and I quite often spend weeks living off these. With pickle sandwhich spread, chutney or even egg or baked beans. Or all of the above...
- true blood, Buffy, the l word, queer as folk, make it or break it (for a while I used to avoid going home by staying in the library at uni and streaming this. It's horrendous.), Greys anatomy, gossip girl, friends, project runway... And lots and lots more tv shows.
- when alex and i were younger our favourite movie was chasing liberty. It's one of those first daughter falls in love with her body guard type movies.. We were fairly classy..


These are just a few of the things I doslashlistentoslashwatch when there aren't too many people watching...

The twentyfirst.

I've never really understood the twentyfirst phenomenon. Why would you want all your friends to meet your parents drunk? Why would you want your family friends listen to your closest friend/partner in crime/the person who sees you when you're passed out in your own vom whilst smoking a j tell the stories of passing out in vom and smoking j's? I don't want photos of me passed out at the local college pub to circulate as far as my parents and their friends.

Nevertheless, I do (as most of you know) understand the desire to be the center of attention. So I'm having a twentyfirst with my family/family friends, and a twentyfirst with my friends. I just happen to be able to separate these things with an entire country, sometimes the circumference of Earth. Anyway, here are a few of the things I know will come up in speeches/attempts to embarrass me.

- When I was four (I think) I lived on the Cocos Islands and had a rebel friend. We would go out into the tropical wilderness and collect hermit crabs (which eventually came to live in the shower), jump off rocks in the sea and learn naughty words from his parents. One day we went frolicking near the local primary school in search of fun/adventure. Only to break into the art room and trash it. The only vague recollection I have of this is covering a wad of toilet paper with black paint and throwing it upwards to the ceiling. OH, and being strongly reprimanded and cripplingly ashamed of what I had done. In my memory there are police cars, but that may have something to do with my exaggerated nature.

- I have a saxophone teacher who later became a friend. When I was 15/16 I was a bit of a prickish little prude/sober person. Anyway the first time I ever had more than a few beers was at this saxophone teacher's 40th birthday. I ended up not only sleeping on his couch (only to be woken by his children), but also vomiting rice/champagne/beer all over his bathroom and garden.

- I have a godbrother who has attempted to strangle me/suffocate me on numerous occasions. As well as pull off my Barbie's heads/tie a knot around their necks and hang them from the second floor.

- When I first moved to Melbourne I had never really been out before, I was underage and had never smoked or taken any form of recreational drug. Unfortunately I went a little bit overboard and most people who lived in college with me have some story or another regarding the infamous Sammy/SamT. Mostly involving vomit or naivety.

- Still to this day I smoke a j after getting home and end up passed out on the bathroom floor. It's become somewhat of a ritual for Bigfoot to yell outside the bathroom until I stand up.

See? You all think you've been there now.

Conversation with a former linguist.

Me: I'm inboxING you!

Linguist: no you're not! I hate you and your murder of the english language. Also missed you today in rom fem rev lect. you would have liked it. x

Me: Yeah I would have liked to make an appearance but i spent the afternoon cleaning my room and reading d.h lawrence (ick. he's so freaking elitist! but slightly funny).

The English language is perpetually changing. Stop holding onto a romanticised notion of language and embrace utterance.

Me: p.s: 'rom fem rev lect.' talk about bastardising the English language..

Linguist: I'm just contracting words. I'm not turning a noun into a verb

Me: I'm going to hold on to inboxing for the rest of my life. Why aren't you inboxing whomever came up with the word 'texting'?

Linguist: nice correct usage of "whomever".

The thing is, you're not sending me an inbox. If you were I wouldn't have a problem with you saying "inboxing". The inbox doesn't change. you're PMing me. See that's fine.

I'm just upset because I had to put up with a bunch of teenagers on the way to wang "inboxing" each other, then talking about it, then updating their statuses and saying "like my status!". They were taking up the whole carriage and i got really grumpy. The icing on the cake was when one girl said "I have five inboxes! I'm so popular!"
I wanted to kill her. She may have five inboxes -- if she has four other email accounts as well as her facebook account, for example -- but I'm pretty sure that's not what she meant.

But it's one thing to hear it from ignorant teenagers and another from an intellectual equal.

Me: That teenager sounds like a genius! She knows how to embrace postmodern linguistics.

Just kidding, you have a point. PMing is probably correct. But I like the idea of social networking warping our language. Im holding onto inboxing.

Linguist: I wouldn't expect anything less from you :)

quitting

I'm sitting at my newly cleaned desk admiring my brand new chest of drawers and smoking a cigarette rolled with a road map of somewhere on the south coast of Victoria. I just checked, it's the Bass Coast.

Trying to quit smoking has made me crazy hungry/crazy grumpy for the past week. But so far I'm down to one or two smokes a day. As opposed to probably about fifteen. I can't bring myself to buy smoking paraphernalia so I stole sister Al's smokes and have been experimenting with the yellow pages, an indian menu and finally a Melbourne road map. Also I no longer keep an ash-tray in my room so I'm ashing into my unfinished pumpkin cup-a-soup.

If you're wondering, road maps taste like the sticky part of an envelope, and the ink seems somewhat toxic...

Best Friday Night Eva

This one is my favourite:

Personal Add

My Mother just stormed out of the house in a bit of a fit, so now I have a fabulous Friday afternoon planned in which I clean a bit, study a bit - but mostly waste my time and break my non-smoking rule.

Lately The Hussy and I have been considering love, and why neither of us have/want/need it. Anyway I've been trawling craigslist personal adds again. Here's a few of my faves:



I took a sickie off work today and am very bored so I invite you to my apartment in southbank to share a bottle of wine on the balcony and enjoy the city views. After that, what better way than to have some nsa fun together. Let's start chatting and organize something together. Perhaps we can watch a movie together, share a drink together, cuddling, kissing, bubble bath, snuggling up in bed together. I can host in Southbank if required.

I am a good looking, sexy Australian man, fit physique, tropcial eyes, light brown hair well .... my picture is attached for your viewing pleasure. Please hurry and send me a message with your picture. If you are a genuine one, please write ROMANCE in the subject field when you write otherwise don't expect a reply.

Married man who is in a relationship where the the sexual spark has long died and after someone who is also married or attached or single.

I try to keep fit & healthy, attractive, funny/witty and think I can hold a reasonable conversation.

May look to change my situation at home.

Discretion is obviously a must for both parties so will be respected  



Hi - male here available as a sperm donor. 40 year old, have had two great kids but would like the chance to help someone. I'm ok health & fitness wise and would be a good father material I promise. Please contact me to discuss.

I love kids and I know the joy it can bring to a mother so here's your chance -  




All that remains is to wonder what 'tropical eyes' look like... 

Study Timez

Things I have done instead of studying for an exam that was in a few hours:

• Napped
• Watched gang bang porn
• Wrote a story about how AWESOME Perth is
• Drank 2/3 of a bottle of red wine
• Watched amateur porn
• Stared out the window and talked to myself. A lot.
• Wrote a story about eating dog and human meat
• Trawled the interwebz for lolz
• Also found this (I have a midterm for a class I keep skipping tomorrow morning):

Awkward Facebook Moments

I'm conscious of the fact that the only people who read this probably just clicked on a link from my facebook, so I shall preface this with an apology to people who recognise themselves in this...

- When you fuck someone and don't swap numbers, but facebook names (totally unromantic, right? probably a testament to my pillow-talk). Then you spend approximately three days avoiding chat because you don't want to be the first person to initiate first-non-coital-contact. Only to get drunk and inbox them.

- When you have a really unsatisfactory chat conversation and have to go offline mid-conversation with someone else because you lied and said you needed to pee, eat, sleep or smoke. Only to get drunk and inbox them.

- When you've had an argument with someone and you have to constantly see their names on news feed. Only to get drunk and send them a nasty inbox.

- Family and Family Friends on facebook. Just don't do it! The evidence of my first year in college is all over the interwebs - and I like it like that! What I don't like is when my mother calls me and tells me to quite smoking or that she heard I had passed out in a pub ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD.

- When you accidentally-on-purpose add someone you've been staking and they don't know who you are.

- When your stalking goes three steps too far and you end up going to the events stalk-ee has clicked 'attending' to.

Crisis-mode

The first thing I need to do after every natural disaster I'm privy to is construct a privy.

Preferably decked out with viewing pleasures.

I make no apologies for the horrendous pun.

My Monopoly Life

When I play Monopoly I imagine myself as a gangster. Obviously these delusions are aided by alcohol and the valium I stole from my father, but they remind me of one of my very first posts.

I sit in the kitchen on a white swivel chair with The Hussy, Yhana and occasionally Muffin or sister-Al. We start fast - slowly buying up every property we land on - and I imagine that we're spending big with profits made via cocaine sales and rich, young student's naivety with regards to the price of marijuana. Then, once purchases are made we sit in our multi-million dollar mansions waiting until one of us tries to stoop the other. I might put a 'brothel' on Old Kent Road, and use the light blue properties for open houses and meth labs. The rest are property investments. Gradually, the price of cocaine increases and the students get richer and more stupid.

Finally we get to the stage where a meeting has to be called. I wear my most expensive sunglasses, have a glass of rum&coke in hand and we draw up the wants and needs of each party involved. Perhaps The Hussy wants one last red property to provide a home for their latest favorite hoe, or to force Yhana off the board - Muffin is looking to improve the quality of his meth. Sometimes I'm tempted to keep minutes, or even buy cigars to increase the real-life-effect of my structured play - swap my rum&coke for some grappa or bluesapphire.

This is the closes I have and will ever come to being a man-of-the-mafia.

We usually end just before the first person goes bankrupt, and just after 10mg of valium warps my judgement. I am usually the first to go bankrupt.

Kind Regards,

The Chairman of the Monopoly-Board.

Note to Self:

Don't joke about self harm at the doctors.