Read My Lips

ARKS or ASK

Not Noah’s boat that housed millions of coupled animals, no. This is a language disaster. Try though I may I just can’t get past it. When someone says to me ‘Arks your friend if I can borrow her pen’ or ‘I arks you if you wanted me to pick you up at ten and you said you’d be ready.’ I will never, ever be ready for 'arks'...unless of course it’s God sending a message about it raining for 40 days and 40 nights to drown us right out.
Ark ɑːk/ noun 1. (in the Bible) the ship built by Noah to save his family and two of every kind of animal from the flood; Noah's ark. o archaic a ship or boat. plural noun: arks
People!!!! - get it right. It’s ASK. Arse-K. Always has been (well since the 1600’s), always will be. ‘Ask me a question’, or ‘Ask me what my favourite colour is’...don’t arks me...it’s frigging lazy? It's frigging wrong and it's a boat built cubit by cubit. My thoughts are, if it’s cultural, that’s okay. If it’s a speech impediment, that's okay...if not...don’t use it. It discredit’s you. Most of you are not gangsters, rappers or from the Caribbean. Back in Chaucer’s day he used ‘I ax’...Chaucer wrote between 1374 to 1386. Even Shakespeare used ‘Ask’. Stop it...it’s ARRRSSSKKKK...Ask. It’s just ask.

Mutton dressed as Lamb

There is nothing more tragic than a bitch who wears lippy above her lip. This is where they got the phrase ‘mutton dressed up like lamb’… It also includes the wearing of leopard skin, fur coats, collagen lips and visible 'g' strings of anyone over 50…stop it! I know it’s an offensive title, referring to an older lady dressing like a much younger one…but deliberately trying to deceive when you’re not in the race is just catastrophic. Men too, can be…mutton dressed as ram…it’s called a Lamborghini and gold jewelry, fake tans, gold sluggers (budgie smugglers, dick bathers), blonde teenage girlfriends and spray on hair… what the hell?

Tattoos or more specifically, Chinese tattoos.

Why not put it in English? I ask everyone I ever see who has a Chinese tattoo (unless they are Chinese) what does that mean? And then, how do you know it means that? How do you know it really says ‘Like a tiger with wings’ and not ‘Twice cooked pork and a spring roll’ or ‘Time passes like water’ and not ‘Don’t pee on your shoes’ and some Chinese tattooist is laughing his arse off at you… Truth is I’m a clean skin and not a big fan of tattoos even though my partner has several. Why put a bumper sticker on a Ferrari?
Just saying!

Dicks!

‘Do not eat’ . They are tiny desiccant sachets we find in the bottom of vitamin and pill bottles. They are a harmless absorbent moisture and odour sponge, necessary to cope with the shipping and atmospheric conditions and changes in temp that could cause moisture to ruin the pill quality. I for one am glad they put, ‘Do not eat’ on the packet because who knows what might happen…I may eat it. Doesn’t look like my vitamin but hell, it’s in there…must be okay to eat…and you know why they put ‘do not eat’ on it? It’s because of the dicks that eat it…and they’re the ones walking around the world with a bad case of dry mouth, their puffy tongues lolling ridiculously between their parched lips.

With Facebook we are subject to all sorts of fascinating little stories and photos from others. There are Instagram pictures of people's rissole and mash dinners, surprise bunches of flowers from a partner, a nice pic of nana bowling Freddy out in cricket (sepia for that one – with frame). Both cute and sad animal pictures of small white baby animals being kicked across a football field and then there are the check ins from the gym or a bar in a cool part of town (and I am check in queen so am definitely not knocking the ‘check in’). Declarations of love for Jesus, hate for Abbott or Barack Obama, pro-gay marriage slogans, pops humour, boasts of accomplishments people show off about to get some acclaim they need deep down from fb friends and strangers they've never met but play Candy Crush with. Then we get bloody really ordinary posts like, “That moment when…”  or worse That awkward moment when…” - shut up dick!

People,- get an original thought…You can even join these groups if they want to share their really awkward moments in life… – ‘That awkward moment when Santa and I have the same wrapping paper’…oh yes, that is awkward. “That awkward moment when you slept with your neighbour and then accidentally told your wife.”  

Personalised number plates! And really unbelievably stupid; personalised number plates that state what the make of the car is…for example, BMW-007…there are BMW badges on the car asshole, no one needs an explanation, no one cares! Why would you do this? You’re some wanker that needs to point this out. I almost (barely) understand why personalised number plates can be cutesy or mildly amusing when your 17 and they may even possibly be clever to some degree (a really, really small degree) but JAG-975 or MERC-05 is stupid! I mean you can put whatever you want on those suckers…pretty much…It simply makes you a dick. A really small dick.

Often when I’m on a call to my insurer, Flowtoll, or Medicare for example,  I often hear on the other end of the phone (when speaking to a real person), ‘Bear with me’, not just once but every time their computer screen freezes or they have to go and ask a supervisor something (rubbish, they’re going out for a smoke), or they blink. I spoke to one fellow on the phone recently who while very helpful, did my head absolutely in because he said it every few seconds…‘bear with me’, ‘bear with me’, ‘bear with me’...sometimes he mixed it up by adding words like 'Just bear with me' or 'bear with me please'...did he not realise he was saying it? Did he not know what else to say? Was he panicking? Is he a dick?…'sshhuuuush', I wanted to yell, - 'stop saying that'!! It’s stupid. I know it’s a polite way of saying 'Be patient with me while I fix up your stuff' but say it once, not every 3 seconds. Got it the first time, - you dick!

Acronym conversations are run-of-the-mill for public servants, and in all honesty, I’m kinda taken aback when people from outside of government stop us mid conversation and ask what it all means…God where do we start? Occasionally (a lot)…we don’t even know what the words are but we know what they mean…for example, I am a SATO from the SAT team who works with DS. My role includes doing TLR’s, COFP’s, meeting with NGO’s, sorting through YLYC and funding rounds for S4SL. We use BIS to record  ICAPS and ONI’s and approach HACCQCC on a regular basis. If HACCQCC can’t assist there is always CCRC and ERF-FSG. We assist with MASS, CAEATI, VOSS and CLI and at the end of the day after all is said and done…we are just dicks without words.

‘Arks’ instead of ‘ask’. Don’t do this. This is stupid…and grammatically wrong. I hear it more than I should. It’s offensive to my ears. “I arksed Ann for that rocky road recipe” a friend of mine said recently…she is an intellectual, creative adult with a degree…what the hell? I get when I was little I might have said, ‘hostible and hefalump and meer rision mirror’ but I was 6…not 46. I heard an administration officer in a meeting the other day say it too, …’No, dick’…I wanted to shout and then get the speech therapist  in my building to sort her out. How hard is it to say ASK? I ask you!

Bananas in Pajamas…there’s just no excuse for this kind of dick.  Daddy pig runs a close second.

How Fucking Annoying

This is what I find extremely annoying. Band-Aid comments. I guarantee, except for Nelly cause who gives a shit why he wears one of his face, put a Band-Aid anywhere on your person, and people will ask you about it. Now Band-Aid’s have been around since 1921 when some guy named Earle was concerned about his wife cutting her fingers while cooking him dishes in the kitchen and made the first one (later his boss James Johnson ripped off the idea, made him VP and made Johnson & Johnson a lot of fucking money)….true story but I digress. Try this tomorrow. Put a Band-Aid on your finger, your hand, neck...anywhere visible and you will have at least 3 comments about it. Why do people care?

“What’d ya do to yourself?”
“Knife slip?”…huge guffaw…
“What happened? Cut yourself?”.…”Nah…just love wearing Band-Aid’s, fuck head!”
People don’t even care why really. They just want to ask. I reckon it’s the attention factor we got as kids, brandishing a Band-Aid on a scraped knee during some sort of incredible kiddy adventure. After the tears and mercurochrome, it was a statement of valour. Every kid was secretly envious of that band-aided knee, finger, chin…it was the mark of a champion and a story to tell. But when you’re 45 and you have a skin tag that’s catching on a seat belt, and you have a small round Band-Aid on it-no body needs to know about it.

How annoying is this when you are pregnant? Strangers touching your belly and believing whole heartedly that it’s ok to do so. You’d be strangers on a train if you were not sporting a small bump filled with baby. It happened often to me too, in a supermarket, at the football once, on the street, in the post office. “Ask me first mother fucker, I might say yes”.
When did I become public property? I can’t imagine going up to anyone not pregnant, that I didn’t know and touching them on the tummy, and saying “Hmmm, just imagining if you were pregnant”. It is not cool. I realised that if I kept my hand on my belly they wouldn’t be so quick to reach out, although on one occasion a lady at Woollies in the confectionery aisle, slipped her hand next to mine anyway. I wanted to say to her, “You know I’m here too don’t you? That belly you’re touching is part of me right?”…I swear she would have had the shock of her life…it talks!!!! Fucking annoying.


Annoying much? I was at a service station café half way up to the Sunshine coast and stopped to get my 5 year old a small milk shake.
“Can’t do a small one, “the idiot said.
“Why not? Just use a small coffee cup,” I said noticing the large milk shake cups.
“Nup, no button for a small milk shake on the cash register?”
“Are you kidding? You have three different coffee sizes and you can’t do a small milk shake for a kid?”
“Nup, no button for a small milk shake on the cash register?”
*Stare in an unbelievably disturbed fashion for a while* 
“I’ll just pay for the large size then…but can you put it in a small coffee cup please.”
“Mmm not sure.”
“Right so you’re saying that my child can’t have a milk shake in a small cup because the stupid cash register doesn’t have the right button, that my choice is being controlled by a missing button?….ARE YOU SHITTING ME?”

People in my office are over interested in other people’s lunches or food in general. I find that very annoying. Well particularly when they are interested in my lunch. Now I get the whole lunch envy thing. Especially when I am looking down the barrel-(or staring disinterestedly at my plate) of a salad comprised of a tomato, iceberg lettuce leaf, a dash of balsamic and 3 pieces of cucumber. I smell the lasagne’s, the Thai curries and the cheese toasties and I have lunch envy. I do. But I don’t get up in someone’s face about their dish and prod at it with the tip of my index finger.
“Mmmm looks great. You make that?”
I don’t stoop over a plate of steaming delights taking in a big whiff and dropping possible hairs into it and say, “Yum what’s that?”
“Yuk what’s that?” I want to say pointing in their face.
I had a bowl of muesli this morning and put some goji berries in it...well didn’t that start a conversation,
“Oh what’s that?”
“Muesli.”
“No, the red things?”
“Goji berries?”
“Really? Goji berries.”
Fascination and then,..she did it...she poked one...what the fuck? It’s not a slug, or part of an  unidentified bug species that may bite or retaliate in some freaky fashion..it’s a BERRY and it’s MY BREAKFAST!!! It’s annoying.

Little Weirdos

Honestly what the fuck is going on with the jockey? That strange little man with the weird helium voice and the coloured silk shirts... Seen a naked jockey? No hair...none. Hairless like those Sphynx cats but much, much weirder. They are less built than my 5 year old daughter. When I hear a jockey interviewed I freak out because I think it’s a fucked up Muppet. They are oompah loompahs with money. They are the basis for the Randy Newman song, “Short People”;

‘They got little hands 
Little eyes 
They walk around 
Tellin' great big lies 
They got little noses 
And tiny little teeth 
They wear platform shoes 
On their nasty little feet ‘....sing it!! See what I’m saying?

These people have to sit in booster seats at restaurants and they smack their pixie faces into the ground when they sneeze. I asked one at Dooley’s Irish bar once where his pot of gold was...and never heard his soprano reply. Even the name of the jockey attire is weird. Toque (the hat), lunettes (no idea), casaque (the shirt), breeches aka pantaloons (or pants in a normal world)...but apparently a jockey is regarded as being the 2^nd most deadly job, after offshore fishing. From 2002 to 2006 five deaths and 861 serious injuries were recorded. They can also often have eating disorders such as anorexia and suffer dehydration. Just that needs bitch slapping and for striking those poor beasts with a whip...which is possibly called something indulgent like a ‘swank stick’ or something...

I know I’m not equine inclined but seriously, what the fuck?

A Bee in My Bonnet and a Debit From My Purse

I have a bee in my bonnet about what we should and shouldn't pay for these days, cause maybe we’re already paying in other ways… 

I resent it a little when we are asked to pay 20 cents for wasabi when we buy sushi rolls at our local sushi shop. The soy sauce comes free and they usually chuck five of those little suckers in, but you have to pay for a minute envelope of wasabi. Wasabi…it goes with sushi. Like salt goes with pepper. To me this is like ordering a ham and salad roll without the top of the roll or a piece of fish with out the chips. They belong together, they just do. What’s it all about this extra charge? Will they start charging for straws when we buy a drink?

  

Tomato sauce is another condiment we are often asked to shell out extra for with a pasty or a pie. Again they belong together. Don’t fucking charge me for it. In South Australia they don’t charge you for sauce, or bread rolls (but we’ll get to them later). They have a couple of sauce bottles behind the pie warmer and when you say yes to sauce they push the spout in and it distributes through that pasty or pie beautifully. That friggin' plastic sachet of tomato sauce is completely pointless on top of a pie or pasty and you can’t dip. It’s not the done way and the packaging is far too small to accommodate it. 

We should not have to pay extra for a dinner roll at dinner. The bread roll with a meal comes free when you eat out in Adelaide. In other cities you pay for it. Often up to two dollars. They might not have Sizzler there anymore but they have free dinner rolls.

The sneaky charge. I have found this previously with regards to water in restaurants. Mostly when dining out when we ask for water, it comes free in a water bottle with glasses. But sometimes there’s a sneaky charge and it arrives in plastic still water bottles pre opened or worse in Perrier bottles with bubbles and there is a charge. I don’t mind paying for a Perrier but ask me if that’s what I want, don’t take the piss.

I loathe having to pay for parking at local markets and/or pay an entry fee. I want to save my money for the vendors. I want to give my money to them for their wares and encourage them to make more wares and feel loved and supported by their community. I don’t want to pay Brisbane City Council for the right to park my car at a venue that I can support small business owners at. I hate that. In fact, in all honesty I hate paying for parking of any kind actually. First in first served. Maybe charge people if they stay too long but there should be no need to pay upfront. Get over yourselves. Paying for parking in Brisbane is fucking unbelievably extravagant. Sometimes it’s a choice between educating my daughter and parking. And apparently dearest in the world. How do they justify this? I usually take the train…and hell hasn't that gone up. Public transport costs!!! It’s perverse.

Road tolls. A bell tolls and that’s the only toll we should ever know. We already pay for roads. We pay taxes and rates. We do not have a say in whether, where or why new roads and tunnels are built. Either you have the money to build it Main Roads or you don’t, or you save for it. Like we save for a holiday perhaps. Brisbane just does it cause they fucked up all their roads but just dropping them from a great height and expecting drivers to make some sense of them…then they need more cause they neglected to count the population properly. Perhaps fuck off the abacus.

When using the toilet in Europe there can be a fee. My poor travel buddy in Salzburg had the runs and was busting while we scrounged for a few groschen (at the time) to put in the door so she could get in. You pay for ablutions. We also had to pay for a square of toilet paper in Hong Kong. I found this odd. Toileting should be free.

I do want to state for the record that I am not penny-pinching, tight, mean, miserable or stingy about money. I give money to charities, buskers and homeless people. I just feel that things have gone a bit far and that some things should just be part of the service. It’s just good manners. 

IKEA

Love it or hate it...it’s here and is in addition a very probable cause for the divorce rate going up! Well that and driving in a strange city with your spouse. But I digress..

Take me for example, I love Ikea, love it! but my partner hates it. If I say, “Hey babe, let’s go to Ikea”, I get “Oh I’m sorry hon, I’d rather pitch myself in front of a bullet train, thanks though”. I really love how there are small rooms pre set up and clear directions for easy and enjoyable meandering. I just want to curl up on that nice white couch, feet on a stunning ottoman after picking a book off those sexy bookshelves or park myself at a nice cottage kitchen and make out it’s mine...oh yes indeed.

I think If we asked loads of couples, one of the two would admit happily that they love its guts and the other would hate it as passionately...I’m surprised there isn’t more singles (person sans spouse) wandering around on their own through the IKEA labyrinth quite frankly. Why do we make our spouse come with us? It’s agony for both. My partner tries to continually steer me through IKEA via a short cut across the building rather than following the helpful arrows through every section. This annoys me because what if I miss something important? But no, it’s all about getting to the $1 hot dog at the end. And IKEA is a restaurant, a cheap one. Incredible. Reminds me of the days Target had the Apple restaurant. Once we even went to IKEA for breakfast. It was amazing. See when I was in Sweden I don’t at all remember comestibles being that cheap. In fact I remember spending $21 for a boring salad and that was in 1989...so a $2.95 breaka and Parmigiana or Swedish Meatballs for $6.50 is an unbelievable surprise. It’s a treat for me the whole event. 

What's more without IKEA we would not have as much knowledge about what an allen key is and now we understand the term flat pack. There would not be blogs on how the hell to build IKEA furniture, gay men would still be shopping and we would not have this joke,

“My friend just bought an IKEA franchise.”

“Really? Where?”

“I don’t know, he’s still putting it together.”

Good on ya Sweden. I just realised why the partners get dragged along kicking a screaming regardless of the promise of cheap Swedish food at the end of the maze...it’s to carry the bastard flat packs. 

Tossing

 Shoe Tossing 

What the hell is this about? I see it all the time…a pair of sneakers (generally) over the power lines in suburbs around the place. The weird thing is, although I have seen a million of them I have never ever seen anybody actually standing underneath throwing them up there. Is it a night time thing? Do people drop them out of helicopters?…does it mean there is a crack house nearby? (one of the explanations I’ve been told) and it’s not like you can get them back and how expensive if it becomes a habit? One day I saw a row of Connies of assorted colours suspended along a power line like bats on a line…what a waste of good Connies…Anyway apparently this shoe flinging manoeuvre has a proper name…”Shoefiti”. I have heard in urban areas the sneaker is used and in rural areas its work boots but it doesn’t matter, as long as they have laces and can be heaved up as a sort of bolas. I have also heard that it is a bullying turf war thing and done in the old days for the dead…whatever it is…it’s weird…and who gets them all down? It’s like upside down littering.

Planking   

Fad…the thing I love about the “fad” is they pass. And wasn’t this one fucking insane not to mention potentially deadly. I get that the fun part is to find the most bizarre and atypical place to lie stiffly face down but on the thin balcony rail of an apartment 14 stories high on the Gold coast is ludicrous. I’m so blaming social media for it going viral. It’s perfect for showing off but can encourage death and disaster…thanks Mr Tom Green for this innovative creation. I will admit though that some planking photos were pretty funny but happy those days are over. I’m glad we moved on to variations like Owling and tea potting and also Gangnam style…now there’s a groovy fad from neologist Psy! Nothing like a bit of viral K pop thats best claim to fame is beating Justin Biebers You tube video for “Baby”. Still I find it a little outlandish and decidedly odd ball. 

Anal much?

This one is about me because I’m an anal mother fucker. I do my head in, frequently. That doesn’t make me wrong. It just makes me annoying if you live with me and are messy, not forward thinking, not interested in matching things …or not me.

It could be me or it could be having a partner who is my polar opposite making me feel like an anaI motherfucker. Often I hear myself babbling along irritatingly and on a daily basis because I am fractious at the lack of insight my partner has in terms of putting things away, not ‘seeing’ that something is out of place and not doing things…the right way. The toilet roll being upside down on its hanger, long black hair on the white tiled floor, hair on soap, razor stuck in the soap dish so all those tiny short stubborn bristles stick to the soap is not acceptable…neither is squeezing the fuck out of the toothpaste from the top of the tube leaving a bulging mass sitting in the rest. Not rinsing a shared razor, leaving toothbrush and toothpaste on its side on the basin and never flushing a toilet, leaves me feeling somewhat incensed.

And how can someone who has lived in a house for 6.3 years not know where things belong in the kitchen. For starters the other paraphernalia, is already sitting there waiting for their counter parts so it’s not complicated at all to work out.

“Oh there’s 4 dinner plates in that cupboard right there with the glass door, now could it be that the others go there on top?” Nahhhhh just put them in with the saucepans…glasses can go with plastic shit and if the other plastic shit doesn’t fit in there anymore put them on the wine rack…What the fuck? Is it laziness? Is it not thinking? Is it stupid? What??????????

In fact my 5 year old when unpacking the dishwasher knows exactly where things belong and does it without thought.  She even lines up alike coffee cups without suggestion and never puts a thing in a wrong place.…I like the girl. The frustrating thing is, when my partner does it there is just no rhyme or reason and it’s not a one off. It happens every single day and has for the 11 years since I’ve been around, anyway. If there is a stack of clean dishes on top of the sink, I never, ever, ever (not never) expect my partner to put them away because they never will be. That is a no go zone. Plastics if not chucked on the wine rack will be left on top of the dishwasher because putting them away seems repugnant. The bins however go out promptly the minute the rubbish reaches the surface.

Now I am anal as I’ve said and I line up cushions on a couch, tidy every day before I leave for work or to go out and even do it before I go to bed. The bed has to be made…and not just pulled up…tucked in…if there are any cushions on top they are placed on strategically…to look their best. Clothes are put away in appropriate draws and there is a shelf for every group of pantry type in the food cupboard. All canned stuff…top shelf. Anything to do with beverages, Milo, coffee tea, straws are on shelf two, herbs and spices on another…easy to find yet is a constant battle ground between my partner and I as I yell like a banshee nutter that “the Peanut Paste goes with the fucking condiments not the cereals…motherfucker!!!”….”Huh?”

Cause I am an anal motherfucker and to not have it in some sort of order simply discombobulates me. 

What the?

Planes

What is it about the bastard blinds having to be up during take off and landing? Will having them down on either be causing a pilots blind spot? And the cabin lights have to be dimmed? Again how will this impair the pilots’ ability to fly without crashing into a large mountain? How? But I always enjoy the safety demonstration before take off because as if any of it’s ever going to save our bacon. When flying across the guts of a nation without any ocean or large bodies of water whatsoever...why bother talking about life vests with whistle and light? Will it inflate enough to bounce us right up off of the ground and onto a softer landing? There is no water unless you happen to crash into a large lake, which I guess is possible, and survive, which I guess is possible and then it’s daylight so the light option is fucked and everyone else is dead around you so there goes the whistle...except for boredom while waiting for emergency services and then its entertainment much as a prisoner uses a harmonica. What the? The brace position seems quite frivolous. Who cares about whiplash at the end of the day when your plane is heading south in a downward spiral at 1 million miles an hour? I get the seat-belt thing because turbulence can be a bitch. 

Work Jargon

How many have us have sat in work meetings needing a work jargon dictionary? We all know it, have heard it and have used it I guess too. ‘Buzzwords’. The work dialect that is distinct to particular types of employment that reminds me of being in a huge wank fest frankly.

·        My pet hate is, “Talk to it”. It sounds ridiculous. “Who can talk to the policy in front of us?” What’s wrong with “Who can outline, discuss or summarise the policy in front of us?” or “Who’s familiar with it for fucks sake?”  

·        Following a close second is, let’s “unpack” this information. It usually involves a white board or power point display or maybe just verbal bullshit to describe an issue...but no let’s unpack the mother fucker...

·        “Cascading down” is a level by level phrase referring to the passing of or dissemination of information, top down approach to people working at the coal face or front line staff...whoops that might have been one ;-)....possibly better to say, actually works to deliver products and interact with clients. . It’s all about the pictures in our heads of a waterfall flowing down to the bottom I guess. “How about, pass this shit on will ya?”

·        “Push the envelope” is apparently aviation jargon. What the? I have no idea how it crept into the minds of some government employees. Its meaning is about the known limits of performing safely. I don’t think we have any real danger of being unsafe in our employ as such. We are not crossing into a different atmosphere or in control of a scram jet.

·        “Thinking outside the box”. Beautiful. Why can’t we just say let’s think differently or unconventionally? What’s the box? Are we in it? I’m getting out.

·        “Wheels in motion”. How about, “Let’s move this fucker and stop chatting and having senseless time consuming meetings about it”. Yes, better already!

All this does not make you a better manager. It doesn't make you more intelligent. Use real words motherfucker! It simply inflates plain sounding rhetoric. Simply put, in my opinion (because that’s all this ever is) it’s padding language with unnecessary and often meaningless words and phrases. Stop it.

Real Est-haters

Can I just say…real estate agents are phenomenally determined. It must do their heads in. It’s doing my head in. They’re like spies. They know when you’ve looked at a house photo on a webpage, they know when you’re thinking about selling or looking, even the most fleeting thought, and when parked across the street of a house for sale…there they are, rapping on your tinted window and scaring the bejesus out of you.

A really stupid thing to do is post a photo of your house for sale on Gumtree, just to see what happens. You know what happens? Every seedy little real estate bastard crawls out of every orifice in the world and is banging down your door, posting in your letter box and ringing on your phone. It’s madness. It’s an Edvard Munch iconic portrait. It's that little kid on "Home alone". It's Jaws. They all of course are doing ‘me’ a favour. It’s not about them, at all. I guess they have nothing better to do. 

Stuff I Don't Get ?

Balls on Cars

Seriously I want to know what this is about? I’m talking about coloured testicle looking things handing from the backs of cars towbars…predominately men’s cars, predominantly utes, predominantly blue (although I have seen silver and yellow….why would you get yellow?? Why would you get them at all???). Is it about the car or the man? Does the owner purchase them or should they be a gift from ‘mates’ to add grunt or give it a bit? Is it giving a possibly pathetic looking car “balls” to show off to other males like some iconic caveman dragging some poor bitch by hair from cave to cave or is it confirming that the driver is a fucking tool? Is the car a dick? Or is the driver a dick? Tow Nutz they are referred to as...there’s even a twist on the spelling ‘NUTZ’…oozing testosterone. 

Exes Off Limit

What the fuck is up with your exes not returning your texts or calls when the new partner is around…seriously…if we were not over, we’d be together…get over yourself.

I even had a conversation with one of my exes mother about it after I asked her for his new mobile number. She wouldn’t give it to me. He and I have been friends since 1980, only dated 5 years, friends ever since, then he gets married and there’s a ban???

“He’s a married man you know, Kirstie”…

”Uh huh…AND?”

He has only phoned me on the day of the birth of each of his 3 children.

Also happened with another person I had a fling with, he got with a new person and suddenly didn’t answer my texts or calls if the new partner was there…what do these new partners say to them? Why do they feel it is unreasonable? We are supposed to be adults. I don’t get it.  

Tea Drinkers

What in gods name is up with tea drinkers. Fucking messy and lazy. I’m a coffee drinker and no I do not want to expand my horizons…at all. Tea is for hangovers and Poms. I also don’t like when partner, mother in law (especially mother in law) or friends have a ‘cuppa’ at my place and leave a whole filthy stinking tea bag in the sink or on it…do tea drinkers have something against a bin?…put it in there mother fucker. It is not okay to leave it in the tea cup either…I do not leave my tampons in your toilet without flushing or in your sink. And tea talk is annoying, “Oooh I’m gonna have a nice cup of tea”…as opposed to a foul one? “Oooh  I fancy a nice mug (moog) of tea with some hot chips”…fuck off, yuk. 

Routines

                                

Routines are funny things. We all mostly follow them in some form or another and I get that they serve a purpose and certainly enjoy my routines and hate when they are thrown out for any reason…in saying that I can be flexible and spontaneous but I use routines daily and with my daughter and have since she was born because it calms her, organises me and reduces chaos.  Routines are funny when they become rituals and in some way we all do this too, traditions including birthdays, Christmas, Easter and Sunday mornings can all become ritualistic. Saturday mornings for me is watching rage on TV and having two coffees. Birthdays start on my bed with presents, cards first though and it has been that way my whole life. I think rituals help strengthen shared beliefs and values, and build a sense of belonging and cohesion but I wonder about some of the rituals that some people have and they amuse me to watch them. A woman at my work has, every single morning without fail, an English muffin with butter and tomato. When I work, I take my lunch in the kitchen first thing to put in the fridge and there she is making it. Every day. Another woman at work parks her car in the car park and before she leaves she walks around to the other side of the car, seems to inspect it, tries the passenger door to see if its locked, walks back around to her side of the door, tries her door and then steps away, takes a long look at her car then leaves to come upstairs. It amuses me and makes me wonder as I watch her do it every day through the kitchen window (which is now my ritual). Car park inspector, there’s an important routine to know. Having a chat to work friends today, it was confirmed that nearly all of them followed some sort of fairly rigid routine, particularly in the mornings. A lot of their ritualistic behaviour included daily tasks at home and particularly the way they hung out washing. One used only white pegs, one only yellow and red pegs one blue and pink pegs only. The person who used yellow and  red pegs also hung out her washing one piece female, the next male and so on. They stated that they are creatures of habit and liked it that way. My pod mate follows no routine of any sort. "Kill me now" she kept mumbling throughout our conversation...

Men’s Sandals

No. Just no……Okay?

Come on People

I know I tend to view things a bit negatively, sardonically and dryly...but really while I’m kind of an upbeat person, at times, things shit me and I just want to say 'Come on, people'.  For example language used incorrectly does my head in. Hence already means why, mother fuckers. Stop saying why as well as hence. It drives me nuts. 'Hence' and 'why' serve the same function. Seriously, people tell me a story and say “hence why“ such and such and I want to say...'hence' arsehole, that’s all you need to say, fuck off the why! Or use 'which is why'…. 'I have long grass hence why I bought the lawn mower'…NO, no, no…'I have long grass; hence I bought the lawn mower.' 

Another gripe, cause you know how I love ‘em….Where the hell has 'ly' gone. “They are driving dangerous”...actually it’s “dangerously”...remember the ‘ly’ now motherfuckers?...”Drive safe”,  na utt...”drive safely, play nicely, ” Put it in, it belongs there.

Don’t ever discuss fabric patterns or dress styles to me I will shut down quicker than a drug deal in a police station, I swear to God. I hear a wedding dress discussion and I turn and bolt away. Don’t discuss cheongsam with me or mention sheaths. An A line to me is an underground train route. I know cargo pants, boy briefs and legwarmers. I have no idea what a basque waist is. A friend at work was discussing bridesmaids dresses and I wanted to say ‘kill me now biatch’…she was discussing McCall Patterns and had actual swatches of material…”what do you think girls?” she was asking, I was shaking my head…”I don’t think you’ve got enough material there” I said. “Colours ladies..what are the preferences?” she demanded, and as I glanced around me I saw every chick in the pod was mesmerised and seriously considering her questions…there were discussion on skin tones of the bridesmaids, hair colour and actual earnest analysis of the fabric feel and hue. “I’ve always liked a viscose jersey” says one, “or what about a silk print, for something different.” The bride to be looks at me. “Did you want a consultation with me?” I ask, “Of course”, “I like blue…but if you start talking quilting I am so outa here”. Feeling I missed the point. 

Never give me directions ever. I can’t stand it because I don’t listen because it never makes sense. I am a visual person although I hate people drawing me maps too. What’s that about? I get lost so easily so it really isn’t going to work for me.

As a field officer I need to go out a lot in the car, city mainly but some rural areas too.

“It’s Okay I have a nav man” I say politely.

But he keeps going, “then you take the left just after the footbridge, you’ll notice a small pebble on the right next to the white post…,”

“I also have a refidex.”

“Then when you get to the third cyclone fence on the left, turn right, go straight for about oooh I’d say point seven five of a kilometre and then go down the dip,”

“Maybe you know it as a Street Directory….that’s what I meant to say, not refidex.”

“Over the crest at the top and you’ll come to a stop sign”

“Melways...I’ve heard they are called…are you from Melbourne?”

“Here I’ll draw it for you…make ya a mud map. That’ll sort you out.

“Ever heard of whereis…it’s great. You can even print it out. Excellent resource.”

“Won’t take me but a minute this mud map.”

“Lovely, thanks so *fucking* much.”                                     

Aaahh I need a place of zen

Stick it up your arse

First it was the frangipani stickers on cars, now it’s the ‘My Family’ stick figure, cutesy, encourage bulimic eating stickers. Seriously, does anyone care about the fact that you want to ‘show off’ your (stick figure thin) family? Is it cruel for infertile couples or people sitting on shelves like spinsters and bachelors, not that bachelors get labelled as sitting on a shelf as such, they are more often celebrated with ‘bachelor of the year’ stories in popular women’s magazines with gorgeous photos and stuff. Bachelors are more like superheros poised on a mantel piece rather than squashed to the back of a dusty shelf in an old fashioned kitchen or lounge room such as a spinster would endure. Spinster? What is that word even about? Dictionary says an unmarried female regarded as being beyond the age of marriage. I mean what is the conventional age of marriage these days? Might as well just say loser biatch...that’s how it feels. But getting back to the ‘My Family’ stickers,....I saw another (sarcastic) version of the stick figure family sticker and it read ‘Who cares about your stupid stick figure family’ and had a few little awkward looking stick figures in discomfited positions and I want one of those. My Family stickers...stick ‘em up your arse!

Fruit that goes up seconds after a cyclone has decimated fruit trees elsewhere is extremely annoying. I’m sure just as Yasi was warming up to spin across the Queensland coast, the fresh food people were squatting in front of banana bins with thick black markers coming up with some inflated figure to commence the enormous ‘fuck you’ to its customers. Just as quick they came up with excuses about raising prices immediately to ‘back pay’ farmers to assist them to recover quicker and survive the short-term financial impact of crop shortages. Bullshit and stick it up your arse.

-Charlie Sheen. Is there a bigger loser on the planet? I love his quick witted quotes though of late, particularly these three;

“I’m on a drug. It’s called Charlie Sheen”. - Charlie Sheen

“I don't have time for their judgement and their stupidity and you know they lay down with their ugly wives in front of their ugly children and look at their loser lives and then they look at me and they say, 'I can't process it' well, no, you never will stop trying, just sit back and enjoy the show. You know? “- Charlie Sheen

And, “From my big beautiful warlock brain, welcome to 'Sheen's Korner' ... You're either in my corner, or you're with the trolls” -Charlie Sheen

What the? Stick him up his own arse.

Crushes

Crushes make you 15 again. If you are 15, I guess its normal behaviour, but when you are older it can make you display silly and even giggly behaviour and feel obsessive and ridiculous, particularly if they are fierce crushes and particularly if you are in a relationship. I think some of us believe it is biologically unsound to develop crushes after the age of 25. I don’t think it’s a question of a lack of emotional intelligence I think it’s normal. I think to get crushes regardless of the fact that you may or may not be single and the other person may or may not be single is just an indication that we are in fact very normal. I don’t think it means you are not in love anymore with the one you’re with if you get a crush and you are hitched. It keeps us alive. It makes us think again about our appearance and hair do’s. It makes us put ourselves out for them like carrying their groceries for them if we accidentally run into them at the supermarket one day.

Crushes do not end at a certain age like baby teeth dropping out of our heads at 7; they pop up and down through life for short periods and sometimes for longer. They’re fun and harmless unless they destroy faith and trust of course but then that is when maturity and good sense hopefully kicks in. Is it love though?...probably not. Lust? Oh yeah.

• The worst way to miss someone is when they are right beside you and yet you know you can never have them.

• I get the best feeling in the world when you say hi to me, or even smile, because I know even if just for a second, I crossed your mind.

• Should I smile cause were friends, or should I cry cause that's all well ever gonna be.

• I look at him as a friend, then I realised I loved him.

• We are afraid to care too much, for fear that the other person does not care at all.

• Sometimes I wonder what you think of me or if you do at all.

• It's not telling you how I feel that scares me it's what you'll say back.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R-I86eGJh-M