Did anyone know that Avril Lavigne was still around? I had kind of assumed that she was poisoned by all of that eye-makeup. Or rendered permanently blind and shipped off to a convent. Something like that.
As it turns out she drowned. In product placement. If you spot the self-advertising I'll buy you a drink.
Fave lyric?: So what if I go on a heap of dates?
I wonder if she knew that her career would end with this song and decided to finish with millions of dollars in advertising?
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Flopsy, Mopsy and Nibbles
I've been driving kilometres recently. Lot and lots of kilometres. Luckily, I've had the world's trashiest music to guide the way. When was the last time you all listened to 92.9 or 93.7? They're playing this rad new song called Good Girl. I like to belt the lyrics somewhat loudly. Also I only just saw the video a second ago - you can guarantee that some of those d-floor moves will be emulated in Melbourne over the weekend. (Sister Al and I have a penchant for stealing daggy moves..) and when did being a 'good girl' equate to wearing a school uniform? It's like the western world has yet to discover anime porn.
As well as driving kilometres, I've been in Busselton with my family - which includes two little nieces and one not-so-little-anymore nephew. Lets call them um. Flopsy, Mopsy and ah. Nibbles. Flopsy, the eldest is into animations, sci-fi and apparently this new board-game called War on Terror. He fabricated some of the rules in order to slaughter me, but you can imagine the basic plot:
1. Create an Empire (I called mine Hezbolah)
2. Buy villages, towns or cities in your preferred nations (I chose Palestine, Saudi and 'North Australia').
3. Pick up cards that allow you to bomb things.
4. When you go bankrupt you become a terrorist, and you steal oil, suidice-bomb and undergo espionage attempts.
It's all rather politically in-correct, and would be far more fun with grown-ups.
Nibbles is the youngest of the three. I've named her after her favourite guinea-pig. We wrote a story together one night about Nibbles and Maisie marrying the man guinea-pig, Omni. She's obviously a firm believer in polygamy, and told me that she would never drink 'beer' or 'champagne'. I asked her about vodka, I was shushed by my Mother.
Finally, Mopsy is the mopey middle-child. She's kind of the teeny-bopper kid - always talking about the size of her thighs and how she doesn't look good enough in clothing. I empathise with her though, I tried the tween thing once, it didn't suit.
Hope my family added some humour to your dreary easters. If not, then fuck you.
Evilboy.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Things I know to be true
- Natalie Portman truly looks better bald.
- When you feel full you shouldn't keep eating.
- When you feel like vomiting anti-nausea pills actually work.
- Everyone wants to finger Natalie Portman
- If you stop taking valium you will want to die.
- Savage Garden cures the worst angst-spurts.
- People don't notice when I dye my hair.
- You should listen to Muffin when he tells you to avoid certain drugs.
- Everyone enjoys listening to ke$ha. Don't deny it.
- Shitting on the Routeburne track will make you cry.
- Biting on a boys bottom lip is kind of hot.
- Vaginal juices gross everyone out.
- When a boy licks your ear you're secretly turned on.
- Push-up bras will always make you feel uncomfortable.
- Everyone wants to bang the brown-haired-pregnant member of t.A.T.u.
- I get lots of emails from russian mail-order brides on my university email account.
- Too-much information is never enough.
Hope this post is less angsty than the last, Linguist.
Evilboy.
- When you feel full you shouldn't keep eating.
- When you feel like vomiting anti-nausea pills actually work.
- Everyone wants to finger Natalie Portman
- If you stop taking valium you will want to die.
- Savage Garden cures the worst angst-spurts.
- People don't notice when I dye my hair.
- You should listen to Muffin when he tells you to avoid certain drugs.
- Everyone enjoys listening to ke$ha. Don't deny it.
- Shitting on the Routeburne track will make you cry.
- Biting on a boys bottom lip is kind of hot.
- Vaginal juices gross everyone out.
- When a boy licks your ear you're secretly turned on.
- Push-up bras will always make you feel uncomfortable.
- Everyone wants to bang the brown-haired-pregnant member of t.A.T.u.
- I get lots of emails from russian mail-order brides on my university email account.
- Too-much information is never enough.
Hope this post is less angsty than the last, Linguist.
Evilboy.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Things that have gone wrong...
Here's a list:
- Projectile Josh and the Hussy bought me a lovely bottle of red wine and a bottle of champagne. I was ecstatic with this until I moved the booze into my room so that no one would steal it, and accidentally dropped the bottle of red all over the floor. I half expected it to just bounce up, but naturally the whole bottle shattered and its contents went all over the floor just as Projectile Josh entered the room.
- I broke my vacuum cleaner trying to clean the stain on my floor. Now there's a pink circle on the floor and I have no functioning vacuum cleaner (again).
- A chair broke. Whilst I was sitting in it.
- I accidentally added two cups of beef stock to my chicken and mushroom risotto. I am eating it as we speak. It's disgusting and I wasted $40 worth of ingredients on it.
- I got black hair dye on my toothbrush.
So I had a cry and dyed my hair. Things are looking marginally better.
- Projectile Josh and the Hussy bought me a lovely bottle of red wine and a bottle of champagne. I was ecstatic with this until I moved the booze into my room so that no one would steal it, and accidentally dropped the bottle of red all over the floor. I half expected it to just bounce up, but naturally the whole bottle shattered and its contents went all over the floor just as Projectile Josh entered the room.
- I broke my vacuum cleaner trying to clean the stain on my floor. Now there's a pink circle on the floor and I have no functioning vacuum cleaner (again).
- A chair broke. Whilst I was sitting in it.
- I accidentally added two cups of beef stock to my chicken and mushroom risotto. I am eating it as we speak. It's disgusting and I wasted $40 worth of ingredients on it.
- I got black hair dye on my toothbrush.
So I had a cry and dyed my hair. Things are looking marginally better.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Mary and Me
I've been spending far too much time with my Mother recently, and somewhat abnormally we did not argue over six weeks. She says it's testament to my newfound maturity and I say it's testament to her old age. We regale over our newfound content in each other's company and banish our previous years of angst as part of our collective mis-spent youths.
In less sentimental terms that means that we spend a lot of time mulling over a vintage 2007 Vasse Felix Cabernet Merlot stolen from the cellar and argue over Q&A.
Anyway, picture the two of us sitting at a nice pub, sharing a bottle of sparkling, followed by some beer, followed by a glass of red and a cup of tea. We're exchanging vowels and consonants about DH Lawrence, cycling and how she once vomited on the dance floor of Connections, an infamous gay club in Perth. As the sun slowly goes down, a band starts to play and we both say 'ah. what a lovely evening - how nice it is to have a good bitch and indulge in our favorite pass-time'.
The drunk in the corner ignores us, mostly because we look fairly boring having red-wine-induced teary conversations about how wonderful our lives are etc, whilst the bar tender probably thinks that we're the strangest drinking-buddies the world ever saw. Needless to say we're not harassed and not rushed to be anywhere. Conveniently the kitchen opens and we have an early dinner, slightly worried about driving home.
But as the last of the sun disappears a certain air of hurried-ness comes over both of us. Suddenly we're waiting for the other to finish eating, begging inwardly that the other doesn't want a coffee. Hoping that we miss all the traffic lights and don't get stopped by police. Mum checks her watch as I lift my phone from my pocket. 'Shit!' I exclaim. Mum says 'It's 7.30! We have to head home'. We leave immediately, in a tipsy haze. The walk to the car sobers us both up and Mum briskly drives us home. The car is silent, our conversation does not continue after the last drop of wine is finished.
As we hurry to get out of the car, lock the car, walk down the stairs to the front door, open the front door and race down further stairs to the kitchen, still not a word is spoken. Mum puts on the kettle whilst I race to the TV. I press the '2' button and find that there are adds.
'We haven't missed it!' the first words spoken since dinner, whilst Mum rushes in with two cups of weak, black tea and the theme song for Midsomer Murders plays. The only conversation left to have is our speculations as to who is having an affair with whom and who is killing whom.
How long do I have to wait until the highlight of my week existing of drinking tea and watching Midsomer Murders on Sunday night with my Mum stops being pathetic?
In less sentimental terms that means that we spend a lot of time mulling over a vintage 2007 Vasse Felix Cabernet Merlot stolen from the cellar and argue over Q&A.
Anyway, picture the two of us sitting at a nice pub, sharing a bottle of sparkling, followed by some beer, followed by a glass of red and a cup of tea. We're exchanging vowels and consonants about DH Lawrence, cycling and how she once vomited on the dance floor of Connections, an infamous gay club in Perth. As the sun slowly goes down, a band starts to play and we both say 'ah. what a lovely evening - how nice it is to have a good bitch and indulge in our favorite pass-time'.
The drunk in the corner ignores us, mostly because we look fairly boring having red-wine-induced teary conversations about how wonderful our lives are etc, whilst the bar tender probably thinks that we're the strangest drinking-buddies the world ever saw. Needless to say we're not harassed and not rushed to be anywhere. Conveniently the kitchen opens and we have an early dinner, slightly worried about driving home.
But as the last of the sun disappears a certain air of hurried-ness comes over both of us. Suddenly we're waiting for the other to finish eating, begging inwardly that the other doesn't want a coffee. Hoping that we miss all the traffic lights and don't get stopped by police. Mum checks her watch as I lift my phone from my pocket. 'Shit!' I exclaim. Mum says 'It's 7.30! We have to head home'. We leave immediately, in a tipsy haze. The walk to the car sobers us both up and Mum briskly drives us home. The car is silent, our conversation does not continue after the last drop of wine is finished.
As we hurry to get out of the car, lock the car, walk down the stairs to the front door, open the front door and race down further stairs to the kitchen, still not a word is spoken. Mum puts on the kettle whilst I race to the TV. I press the '2' button and find that there are adds.
'We haven't missed it!' the first words spoken since dinner, whilst Mum rushes in with two cups of weak, black tea and the theme song for Midsomer Murders plays. The only conversation left to have is our speculations as to who is having an affair with whom and who is killing whom.
How long do I have to wait until the highlight of my week existing of drinking tea and watching Midsomer Murders on Sunday night with my Mum stops being pathetic?
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Coversations with Sian's Lame Exchange Friends
On the way to bus stop on Friday I decided I was going to sit out on yet another International Students thing as my bowels were doing backflips.
Kai: Aw, don't go! You should come out with us! What if you come but don't drink?
Me: What's the point in going out if I don't drink??
...silence...
Liza: Do you really believe you can't have fun unless you're drinking?
Me:....nooooo.....I was jooooooking.......
What is she? My health teacher from year 9?
12:31
I find the process really fascinating too.
Shit, you can eat my remains for all I care. Apparently human meat is supposed to taste super good too. Because we're so well nourished compared to other animals.
Friday, April 1, 2011
People Who Make me Feel Little #1
Um, does Tavi Gevinson depress anyone**? Is that just me?
When I look back at when I was fourteen, I think I was wearing billabong boardies and a roxie top lamenting the fact that I had to go on a family holiday to Esperance. Instead she's writing beautiful posts on existential crises and what constitutes her identity and getting mail from Romance Was Born.
Even though I spend a great amount of time running around University like a boozed-up, sexless undergrad student lamenting identity politics and claiming that sexualities are discursively produced, I kind of wish that Tavi could come along and tell me all about my identity and analyse my obsession for Jean Paul Gaultier/androgynous fashions. She could even give me some writing tips.
I would totally reevaluate my outlook on life for Tavi. She makes me feel like a teenager desperate to die my hair because it's the only thing I can legally change drastically enough to make people see me differently.
**are you completely oblivious to internet trends? Tavi writes the blog Style Rookie.
When I look back at when I was fourteen, I think I was wearing billabong boardies and a roxie top lamenting the fact that I had to go on a family holiday to Esperance. Instead she's writing beautiful posts on existential crises and what constitutes her identity and getting mail from Romance Was Born.
Even though I spend a great amount of time running around University like a boozed-up, sexless undergrad student lamenting identity politics and claiming that sexualities are discursively produced, I kind of wish that Tavi could come along and tell me all about my identity and analyse my obsession for Jean Paul Gaultier/androgynous fashions. She could even give me some writing tips.
I would totally reevaluate my outlook on life for Tavi. She makes me feel like a teenager desperate to die my hair because it's the only thing I can legally change drastically enough to make people see me differently.
**are you completely oblivious to internet trends? Tavi writes the blog Style Rookie.
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