so, it’s my birthday tomorrow…

…and as we all know, that brings a level of introspection and life analysis unique only to one’s birthday. Unfortunately, the big 2-2 is not boding well for moi.

For a start, I use phrases like “moi”. Fault number 1. But, that’s minor compared to the rest.

Here lies a list of things I haven’t achieved (call it cynical, but the list of things I HAVE achieved was topped with “made some nice biscuits, burnt baking tray” so this list will be a bit more extensive).

* I have no money. I have earnt, accumatively, $69*,256.00 (according to my tax statements). I currently have $2,001.00. I received 2000 of those dollars a few days ago in my tax return. I’d really, really like to know where the other $67,256 is, cos I don’t have it, and I don’t have anything to show for it. I have a crappy car that my parents bought for me, some dubious linen and a cupboard half full of op shop clothes. Also I have headphones, they’re pretty good. And a small laptop. And, like, 5 or 6 DVDs. But taking aside christmas gifts, birthday presents etc, that does not account for all that money.
I wouldn’t mind if I’d had fun or whatever, but everything’s been kinda dull. Maybe someone’s stealing from me…yeah, that’s it.

* I have never held a job. I have had 21 (yes, 21) separate jobs, two of which I have left on good terms. The rest I sort of just…stopped turning up when I got bored.

* I’m not even close to a degree. Maybe that’s where all my money went, the four separate degrees I have attempted and not completed. It’d be nice if compiling all the effort I put in to all of them meant something, but unfortunately “Oh yeah, I did a year of Archaeology” doesn’t count for much in the real world.

* my friends all hate me . Not even kidding.

On the upside, I have my pen license, can make cheesecake and graduated most of high school (I still have an outstanding P.E assignment from year 10, maybe that’s why no one will hire me?)

Advice accepted.

* lol, 69.

The Centrelink Life…

So, a few people have messaged me and asked me to write something new. To the like, five of you who will read this, this is for y’all.

I haven’t written anything new because, honestly, nothing’s happened to me. I got a job in Melbourne, moved up there for 2 months and missed my boyfriend too much so I moved back to Traralgon. So, essentially, I’m right back where I started in life. Unemployed, not at school and, quite frankly, a bit fucking useless!

However, I realised today that the things I do to entertain myself through the long, hard days of not working could be of interest to, well, probably no one, but you douchebags won’t get off my back, so here goes with the meandering I’ve done to entertain myself through the centrelink life.

* Gone “down the street” in Traralgon every day consecutively, just to grab a glance at the weird autistic guy who hangs out there. I laughed at him for a bit then realised we’re in pretty much the same position, except I’m less (well, a bit less) retarded.*

* Made a house of cards then deliberately got my cat to knock it over, yelled at it and smacked it then make the house all over again.

* Developed what the doctor calls a “stress headache”, although I don’t know how stressful watching Reno 911 on DVD and eating Peanut Butter straight from the jar is.

* Eaten no less than four (4) jars of peanut butter in one (1) week.

* Watching every single episode of COPS, from start to finish.

* Terrorised the local retard community.

* Terrorised an unliked neighbour, by driving past their house and beeping and yelling at all hours of the day.**

* Terrorised local teens by driving past, beeping and yelling out “NERD”. If they’re in school uniform, I yell “What school do you go to, dickhead?”. They don’t like it.

* Dressed my cat up as a Period-Style Merchant. He did not like this. Not. At. All.

* One time, I slept for over 24 hours. I’m not even kidding.

I need a job. Except I’d be too lazy to show up.

*No seriously, he’s actually retarded and I’m pretty sure I’m OK on that front, so I have that over him.

**Actually, not all hours of the day. Just very late at night. Sucker.

One day…

…when I was a kid, I started following (what I thought to be) bear tracks. Then I realised I didn’t want to meet a bear, so I turned back.

Here’s some crap things that happened to me over the past few weeks:

I went to the hairdresser, who pummeled me with insults, including but not limited to “Wow, your hair is TERRIBLE today!”. The best one, though, was “you need to bald a little, you seriously have NO forehead.”

A man on the train looked at me and said “Man, you look lethargic as SHIT!”*

I got the song ‘Horny’ by Mousse T in my head for a good three days. I cut myself because I was singing it while shaving my legs.

A lady at work was on the phone in the break room. She was organising lunch around her husband’s Colonoscopy. A little too casually, I might add.

Again at work, I had a “too soon for this story” moment. Well, two of them. I was talking to this guy, and I said I really wanted to get into a fist fight with somebody, ANYBODY, because I never have.

The second was when I told him I cry in movies about dads.

He looked at me with the kind of withering sympathy you give rejected Australian Idol contestants.

He didn’t accept my facebook friend request.

…I’m going to die alone.

*It was 5:30 in the morning. Jerk.

True life:

When people warn me about the global financial crisis, my first question is always:

“Will I still be able to watch The Office on the internet?”

It’s the same question I ask when people talk about immigration, climate change and auto-mechanics.

I was so tired…

…the other day, after three days of not sleeping, that I began hallucinating.

Only I hallucinated that there was a baby on the bed and Oprah was hammerthrowing in the basement*

It was one of those hallucinations that you know isn’t real, but your brain still stresses about it.

I hadn’t even been watching Oprah. I’d been watching The West Wing.

Lamest. Hallucinations. Ever.

*there is actually a basement. But more on this later.

The Mating Call of a Wild Beast

I can smell something in this town. I’m pretty sure it’s the sewage plant located alarmingly close to the residential areas.

But there’s a small part of me that thinks Morwell is just really close to some old ham. A really, really big chunk of old ham lies far too close to this town, and the townspeople suffer from it. It’s bacterium (“infectosludge”, as legend will have it) worms its way in to the brains of the locals and begins to rot. This leads to several unfortunate side effects, ranging from toothlesness to horrid obesity to the desire to mate with a sock reguarly. But I’m just speculating here.

My cat is lying on my bed wailing. It has been doing this for several hours. I considered calling an ambulance. I don’t think they’d be very happy though.

High Fidelity

Only people of a certain disposition are frightened of being alone for the rest of their lives in their twenties. I was of that disposition. Everything seemed much later than it was.

I couldn’t fill a room. I don’t mean that I didn’t have enough stuff. I have loads of books and hundreds of CDs, and my room’s pretty small anyway. I mean that I didn’t seem loud enough, or powerful enough, so that I was always conscious that the only space I occupied was that taken up by my body. I couldn’t project like most people can.

Sometimes I tried, when I was out with people even quieter than me; I never talked about why I suddenly became shriller and louder, but I’m sure I knew that it happened. I did it to compensate for the fact that life was going on elsewhere, other people were together, having a better time than me with people more glamorous than me, and making a noise was sort of a defiant gesture, a futile but necessary last stand (You can see this everywhere you go, young middle-class people making too much noise in restaurants and clubs. ‘Look at me! I’m not as boring as you think I am! I know how to have fun!’ Tragic. I’m glad I learned to stay home and sulk.)

Mine was a marriage of convenience as cynical and mutually advantageous as any.

got milk?

No, but I do got some tickets to the Smash Mouth!

I’d love to take credit for any of these amazing works of poetic genius, but they come from a mind far, far more crazed than my own.

These are the sickest of the things talked about this weekend

“If you guys don’t tell me what you’re laughing at I’m going to send you a parcel containing one very angry bee. What is the bee angry about? I put him in a box 2 weeks ago and I’ve just been shaking him and yelling really loudly at him. Also, recession.”

“Oprah? OPRAH? WHAT’S THE POINT OF HER? She doesn’t even have any skills! She can’t even rap!”

“Oprah’s suss. She’s fucking suss man. She’s going to rile up all the bored housewives of America and eventually they’ll just fucking march an army of them and take over Washington DC. You gotta watch out for Oprah and her feminist army”

“Getting drunk is so fucking GAY! It’s like *blerrrgh* hi *bleeeeergh* you’re really hot can I ask you out on a date *blerrrgh*”

“What the fuck is with girls calling themselves TRASHBAGS? I doubt that was, like, a feminist term or something. It pretty much just means at some point you’ve been in a bin*. Sorry, trashbags, I won’t pick you up cos I’M NOT A BIN SCAB”

*Being in a bin is often referred to as “The Ultimate Diss”. Basically, a person is invited to a party, where the hosts proceed to get the person so messed up that they pass out. They then place the person in the bin, and they wake up in the tip.

“People like me should be put down at birth. We’re a menace to society”

“That’s why the Nazi Party took off. Cos it was the Nazi PAAARTAAAAYY! There ain’t no party like a Nazi party cos a Nazi party don’t stop (til 6 million)”

“You can’t spell asbestos without BEST!”

“I wonder about zombies that died of lung cancer. I reckon they’d cough a lot. They wouldn’t kill you, just generally be unpleasant to be around”

“Wouldn’t that be the best practical joke, just filling someone’s pillow with asbestos and then in 20 years, when they’re dying, be like “APRIL FOOLS, CLASS OF 1979! YOU GOT PUNK’D! PSYYYYCHHEEE! LOL!”

“I’m just trying to think of an insulting word, and all I can think of is vulva”

“Here’s my theory: Didn’t the Jews kill Jesus? Then he came back as Hitler to exact his revenge. When America fucked Germany up in the war, he came back as Osama Bin Laden. Jesus is baaad-ass”

“Lets remake The Ring. But instead of the normal video, make it Patch Adams”

“Don’t you ever do that? Just walk around telling “IM THE KING OF THE HOMOS!” just cos?”

And my personal favourite, not so much a quote but the best way to start a sentence

“So, anyway, Phil was jacking off this Chihuahua…”

i just wanted some sushi…

…not for the owner of sushi noodle town to yell at me.

here are some things I overheard at uni this week

“what is this place I’ve never seen this in my life” “it’s the fuckin’ library bro” “oh…”

“oh my god seriously that guy is so shit I hate him. he talks about people behind their backs all the time. I HATE it when people talk about other people behind their backs, he’s such a cunt”

“he was like, so premature all the time. When he dumped me I was like ‘that’s fine because you’re terrible at sex’. I’d still date him again though”

“he programmed my number in to his phone under the name ‘sexy ho’ so that’s what comes up when I call him. i really want to go out with him”

“oi nah, like, the world wars were good cos like, germany got all their aggression out. If they didn’t do it then they’d be totally insane by now”

“this bitch fainted on the train today and we got held up for like an hour. Seriously, if you know you’re going to be sick don’t go on the fucking train when I need to get to uni”
“yeah I know some people are so selfish”*

“uni is just something to do until I can go full time at work, then I’ll just do that for my career” “where do you work?” “mcdonalds”

I am going to murder someone

*there was not a hint of irony in this statement

i was wondering…

…do horses get dandruff? that would be annoying for them because they have heaps of hair.
anyway

here is a list of things i have learnt you shouldn’t do or say* because people will get so mad at you and/or you will embarrass yourself

- never tell a woman that she “looks like a lady hobbit” even if it is entirely the truth. they find this offensive

don’t follow this up with “oh, not like an ugly one, like a pretty lady hobbit“. this is perhaps more offensive

- never use mistletoe as an excuse to french someone without hesitating. no matter how much you want to. it comes across as weird and lonely. i know this now

- never joke about “cutting yourself” to someone who looks like they might actually cut themselves, because they may reveal that they do partake in cuttage. you will offend them with your implications that it might be weird and you will look like an insensitive bumhole

- never eat food off the ground in public no matter how sure you are that people aren’t looking because someone probably is and you will look homeless, or just dirty. common etiquette dictates that there is no 30 second rule outside of the home**

- never admit to people you have just met that you have played world of warcraft. you will go from being cool and quirky to sweaty and weird. i know this now

- never tell someone who might be religious that “people who believe that are twats, seriously, idiots” and things like that, at length, for several minutes. this is offensive to people who like god and believe those things. they will think you’re a cunt

- never give a person a nickname without first gauging their personality. for example, perhaps calling a 60 year old lecturer (who is quite serious) “soupz” is not as funny as you think it is. he will look at you like you are quite stuipid and everyone in your class will think you’re a cunt

just do the opposite of what your brain tells you to do, and you will be ok***

*even if you really, extra want to

**i will reveal that full story one day. it is yucky

*** this perhaps only applies if you have my brain, which you don’t. you’re probably ok at not saying these things