We're getting a little scared

I feel guilty a lot. I always apologise, I have a permanent guilty conscious, even when I've done nothing. I worry about looking guilty, something is being announced in assembly about, anything, everything, kids scrawling "dictation" on the back of chairs (doing the dick, something boys seem to have a constant fascination that they could fill by looking at themselves in the mirror, not in fact by drawing the male genitalia everywhere and at any point in time, and then completing with "tation". "Woah! Did you come up with that yourself?") and I feel guilty. I look worried, I swallow. Then wonder if my swallowing of saliva has been realised and someone will conclude that I am the guilty one. That yes, I have been the one in my lunchtimes running to the Maths department and scrawling obscenities on the back of chairs. I sometimes try not to swallow and leave my mouth parched, I worry that the strained look will lead to my arrest. In the end I just blank out during speeches which often leads to me missing all announcements meaning I often don't go to things or have to read the notices ritually, looking like a right nerdy twerp.

This stems from the time some real bitch brought her dumb "under the sea" themed Polly Pocket. I hated her and her spiffy, glittery shiny things so stole her sea horse. It was a tiny, stupid purple thing that has a plug on the bottom that would stick into the Polly Pocket. I took it home, I remember holding it in my hand feeling ultimately evil. The next morning I tried to sneak it back into her bag.
I can't remember if I was successful or not, I think I probably felt guilty trying to do the right thing and failed, all I remember is I felt like a thief, an evil dirty thief. I still do.

I was later repaid for my evil deed by her doing my hair for my school photo. I ended up looking like a bad Rastafarian, inclusion of hat and my mother wondering what the hell happened. Karma I guess, yet she does not have to deal with the photos being rehashed and mentioned nearly every year, enduring the "peer pressure" speech and "don't trust girls" speech.

Sadly, this performance was beaten by last years photograph in which, angry at the world, I gave myself a hair cut. This ended up with a sort of mullet that my friend assured me looked good, "framing my face" (note taken, don't trust girls). So my photograph was taken, my friend giving me the thumbs up, to later be laughed at endlessly by family and friends alike. Then placed in the corridor, for the whole school to see, their lasting impression of me. Thankfully my hair has finally grown out and the mullet is no longer evident, besides on my father on his wedding day.

Though, apparently that girls a right bitch now as she was then and I may still own her sea horse, she may not know it, but I have won.

One night stands are very tender

As an Australian, I feel it is obligatory to post this, so they're not really Australians, but it is Mark Seymour's (Hunters and Collectors) song and they perform is so beautifully. Being there would be an absolute amazing feeling, if I never am able to see The Clash or The Smiths perform (I saw The Cure so at least I saw one third of my fab three) then I want to see this song performed live.

This is Why my Parents Shouldn't Allow Nights Alone

When karate/ kung fu people do their moves their not actually shouting "wa chow" or anything, they're in fact yelling "SAMTYLER".

I have come up with this after much thought and testing to karate moves around the house, apply it to your life and normal day to day karate moves. It makes sense.

Think about it, yeh? Its an act, yeh? Trying to trick the mind, yeh? Subliminal messages, yeh? Yeah.

The Modmaster

I spent my Friday night playing Roadie Rage and wishing I was Paul Weller.

I think I need a hobby.

Messy Head

I leave mess every where. I accumulate it, its my super hero power. Today we had to clean our locker, over the past term I had collected around two armfuls of trash in my tiny locker. This included sheets with pictures of brains on that I think I was meant to fill in, a paper bag with my name written on it repeatedly for some unknown reason, a bag for bread with nothing inside it and brochures on safe sex with happy, shiny, young people (who actually were holding hands) on. I told you, its my special power, I keep everything. Today I found a piece of newspaper, and instead of putting it in the bin, I put it in my pocket. I would later take it out, analyse it in full detail, think for a while and then replace it in my pocket. By the end of the day I empty my pockets and I have about 20 different items I can line up on the table. ("Hey is that a mandarin, newspaper clipping on Amy Winehouse, used panadol packets and feather in your pocket or are you just happy to see me")

Due to this, most of the time I leave stuff downstairs in our lounge room, in about any place I can find that looks inconspicuous. My mother lines these items up on the stairs hoping that, if I use logic, when I go upstairs I will take the items and put them in my room. I don't have logic. Realising this finally, after around four days, and the items almost reaching my room, journeying upstairs boots and all, my mother asked me to remove them. To which I stated:

"Well done, I see your also working in installation art"

I shall explain. Around three years ago I witnessed Tracey Emin's messy bed. Since that eye opening experience I have called every mess an artwork, its not like I'm being a critic to modern art, I think that Emin's work is an amazing piece of artwork that deserves all of its praise. But for me, its just an easy way out. I have abused art but at least I get to watch the end of "Dead Like Me". Par example:

"Clean up these cups"
"Can't, work in progress. I call it "Dirty Cups""

OR

"Move your bag! Its been here for two weeks!"
"I'm trying to get the right balance, the right feeling. I just have not achieved my full artistic potential yet"

OR

"Take your stuff up, if you haven't realised it there as you step over them again and again"
"Wait, I'm layering the different medias together to form an aesthetically pleasing finished product"

It mightily pisses them off, but I usually get my way after a while. My bag is taken up, the cups gone and my Docs dragged to their resting place.

Except for this one time:

"I'll shove your installation art some place where it won't be too comfortable"

No one appreciates the arts these days.

Alice Sighting!

I track these, honestly, Alice is every where, influencing everything. Robert Smith stated it was his favourite children book, and if you don't take his word, well you don't take any. Here here!

Some girl quoted it today, the Red Queen poem which was nice, everything is nice and humble at this present time, no one likes her though. Which is sad. I like her.

I shall soon be painting my house forest green. That way Google can't track us. MY! Blogger is google owned! Foolish being! They have found us!

Turnip Prize

One day, he will be a famous artist.

Are they the lemmings? Or are you Cliff?

A time when Rik Mayall was seriously shaggable and rather funny too.

I love quotes, they unite people as one due to the fact that we are usually unable to think of anything witty to say ourselves so therefore, steal. How many times have you found a deeper connection with someone due to the use of a quote? My friend and I rely upon quotes to keep the conversation going, without, I don't think we'd be able to communicate.

Perhaps one day the world will become a wittier place, where Stephen Fry is our hailed master and we are all quite interesting and quite clever and quite witty too. This would be nice. I will live in this world with Hannah.

Hello Hannah.

Every morning I eat Toast but our toaster broken so only one side is toasted. I think this sets my day off badly

cheshirecat says:

really?

cheshirecat says:

i prefer it sort of wet, smooth

cheshirecat says:

oily

cheshirecat says:

and then

cheshirecat says:

i rub it all over james

cheshirecat says:

I DID IT MYYYYYY WAAYYYY

I need to stop staying up late on msn or else I end up with conversations like this. This particular conversation stemmed from using butter, which I supposedly prefer wet, smooth and oily to then rub over poor defenseless boys, before announcing that "I did it my way".

Which, I guess, makes sense in some sick demented way.

That Minty Goodness

So, I received another baby sitting job, this time with the decency not to mention any insults they could later use against me. Its a bit shocking, really, I am generally terrible with children.

There was no need to sacrifice the child, no need for a beating stick, no need to call a priest/ slayer with a fully fledged sword (as apparently that's the only way to kill the demon child, arriving at the door to state "yes..this is my friend..he's very good with children") and no need to use dettol: lime fresh.

Instead I was forced into watching Hannah Montana, proving my theory, she truly is the devil child.

I feel so very sorry for the youth of today. Montana, a direct copy of practically every teen movie of any generation ("Ahh! We've gone back in time, my parents aren't meeting and I am fading away!", hey kids! Spot the rip off again! This show is fun for the kids, as they sit there dumbly playing along with the chipmunk in a wig and fun for the parents, or torture, who knows, as they try and figure out what shows being ripped off this week). The show features some annoying girl whose name sounds like some kind of disease who later transforms into some other annoying girl with a name that rhymes with an American state, Alexis Texas or something, who can supposedly sing. The twist of the show? No one can tell its her because get this, she puts on wig. Yes, unlike Superman, who could be disguised by his apparent geekiness (if only such worked for me) , Clark Kent in glasses, Cyrus here, just shoves on a badly made honey blonde wig. Where is she? I don't know! And don't care! The girl is so utterly annoying, that in real life you'd most likely slap with a double edged mackerel and not even bother with the dance. She just doesn't deserve it.

I have nothing against Miley Cyrus, its just badly scripted and a product of Disney. Which seems to ruin practically everything it touches, tainting it with its "good connotations" that never seem to turn out that "good". Case in point: pedophile Madhatter. Just plain wrong.

So what are kids meant to inspired by? If not Hannah Montana, the Jonas Brothers, a bunch of ponced up idiots who like to state they're called "Danger", or the other servings of goodness offered by Nickelodeon. Long gone are the days of Angry Beavers and Rockos Modern Life, now we are left with shows about young bands who write songs about not doing chores. Riot worthy stuff, I tell you, those pre-pubescent are bringing back Punk. And, unlike Disney, who seem to chose the kind of kids that would be on toothpaste ads, scaring us with their wholesome goodness and pearly whites, Nickelodeons offer is, well, not exactly pretty. I'm not discriminating, its a nice change to those shiny, happy people holding hands. But in reality, those kids are the kind that would be slapped around at the playground, Nickelodeon is implanting false hope into young minds. You will never be cool.

My inspiration as a child was Daria.This could explain a few things, that I would hope you would not point out, have some decency please. Yet, I think I'm better for it, I associated myself to a cartoon character who never changed clothing, was down on fashion and fashion club, wore Doc Martens and never really showed any emotion, ever. But its sure better than a chick whose last name sounds like some kind of sexually transmitted disease.

Just, Plain, Lovely.

"trust me catlin, you had me at hello"

this person is the most truly fantastic person ever

Crowley!

Whoever made this is rather amazing.

Happiness

Make A Change

UNDERCOVER animal activists have filmed horrific scenes of cruelty to farm pigs.

The incidents include workers slamming piglets on floors and leaving them still wriggling to die, beating animals to death with metal rods and inserting rods into sows' hindquarters.

Go to the disturbing PETA video

Activists from People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) posed as workers between June and September this year at a farm in the midwestern US state of Iowa, the Associated Press (AP)reports.

The video shows a worker viciously beating pigs with a metal rod while shouting to one of the PETA spies: "I hate them. These (expletives) deserve to be hurt. Hurt, I say!"

"Hurt! Hurt! Hurt! Hurt! ... Take out your frustrations on 'em," the employee yells as swings the rod.

The PETA operative is encouraged to pretend that one of the pigs scared off an attractive and willing 17- or 18-year-old girl, and then take out his frustrations by beating the animal.

In another moment captured on video a supervisor says when he gets angry or a sow won't move, "I grab one of these rods and jam it in her (anus)."

One of the PETA operatives told AP he saw a rod inserted into a sow's vagina.

Workers are also shown slamming piglets on the ground, to instantly kill those that aren't healthy enough.

However the video displays piglets surviving the treatment and lying wiggling in a bloodied pile.

Piglets are also shown being castrated, and having their tails cut off, without anesthesia.

The undercover operatives say they also saw clothespins and fingers being jabbed into pigs' eyes and blue paint being sprayed into a pig's face and nostrils.

PETA intends to send the video to the sheriff in Greene County, Iowa, seeking prosecution of 18 people on animal cruelty violations, AP reports.

Workers also sprayed the pigs with a chemical that has been banned by US food authorities because of a suspected link to cancer, PETA claims.

Lynn Becker, an owner of the farm after it changed hands in August this year told AP the scenes on the video were "completely intolerable, reprehensible."

"We condemn these types of acts," Mr Becker said.

"If any animals were abused in the brief time we've owned the farm, if we still employ these people, any attempt will made to investigate and initiate corrective action immediately."

Animal welfare training had been provided to the staff, Mr Becker said.

The previous manager of the farm also told AP that it would investigate the "unacceptable practices" shown on the video.

The farm provides pig meat to Hormel, a maker of Spam and other food products, and PETA says the food company should do more to ensure its suppliers follow humane practices.

Hormel spokeswoman Julie Henderson Craven called the abuses "completely unacceptable."

Ms Craven said she believed the abuses only occured under the farm's previous management when Hormel had not been a client.

PETA disputes this saying the change of ownership "made no difference."

"Abuse on factory farms is the absolute norm, not the exception, and anyone eating factory-farmed meat is paying to support it," PETA Vice President Bruce Friedrich said to AP.


Taken from Google News- Australia

Express Shipping! Score!

I need to be more normal. Apparently, anyway. This comes as a direct response to the fact that my oddness, which I can't even see personally, will creep people out, as stated, dear mother. Plus the looks I get, I'm not sure if its their face and they usually are giving me, as to quote, the "stink eye", or its a reaction to me, which hurts me deep, deep down in the pit of my stomach-not-full-of-rotting-meat (as stated by a dear friend, meat supposedly stays in your stomach and rots for two weeks. Heck! I'm inspired to go eat a big four by four steak right now!). Also, the need to be more "mainstream" in music terms.

So I have compiled a list of things to do to become more "mainstream". (I often compile lists, so once this is over, I will stop making lists as mainstream people don't do that. Only Stepford wives, my mother on continuous notebooks spread around the house stating shopping...and that's about it and Germans) . So! Lets take a look shall we, because if we use our mind, take a step at a time, we can do anything, that we wanna do. (Annnndd another one to add to the list)

1. Stop quoting things. This includes any number of things, random breaking out into "Don't Cry Out Loud", "Dora the Explorer" (especially when you add their two syllable name into the mix, believing yourself to be very clever for adding it in. ) or "Changes" must stop. The quoting of particular TV shows that no one has heard of must stop and also the quoting of things that aren't quotes but you think they are so you blurt them out and end up sounding like a creepy tosser, must also stop. This includes "I've got you now, pussycat", although you are still under the belief that it is a famous line from a movie, it probably isn't and it is most definitely not the Grandma from Sylvester and Tweety despite your thoughts at this very moment that it is.

2. Stop laughing randomly. You may have just thought of the funniest thing in the world, or simply thought of the word fishmonger (which is practically the same thing), but whatever you do, don't laugh. This causes odd looks to the extreme, then, don't make it worse by trying to explain what you're laughing at. Its not funny and you'll make a twat of yourself trying to explain it because you think its gorgeously funny and keep laughing, spurting the words out with a fair amount of spit spraying all over you "captivated" audience. No they're not captivated, they're scared. Laughing randomly also includes laughing at books (like those oddities on the bus who laugh at their books, giggling to themselves in a highly superior manner then looking around the bus as if "oh har har har, look at me, I'm reading a book! And I find it funny! Therefore I understand it! Making me highly superior to you inferior beings!" that's what your turning into. Even if what your laughing at is the thought of the Devil talking like Kylie Minogue) so therefore must be stopped.

3. Stop acting upon temptation. You are tempted to taste your friends tears that just fell onto the table. Don't stick your finger in it, bring it up to your mouth and eat it. That's not normal, and despite your pleas right now in your head, that yes, it is and yes, you just wanted to taste it to see if it was salty (which it wasn't, you'd think it would be right?), its not. Do not feel the need to touch peoples heads, do not feel the need to touch people full stop and do not at all costs, feel the need to demonstrate your ability to do a head stand to your parents in your school uniform (skirt included) to prove your flexibility. You cannot use the great Oscar Wilde as your back up with the quote "I can resist everything but temptation" because your temptation to eat peoples tears or attempt a head stand and failing miserably was a tinsy bit different to being torn between love, marriage and the way of conduct back then. And no, you cannot apply those following things to touching peoples head. That's not love, that's just the pure need to touch their head and feel their head under your hand making you feel ornately superior.

4. Don't listen to a band that no one can pronounce. No, that 80's jam French singer is not coming back. No, placing it on full display in your CD box will not help her case. And no, her music isn't that good despite its awesome 80's techno boom. Listen to the Pussycat Dolls, they bring feminism back into the 21st century!

5. Don't tell people your dreams. No one wants to know about your night time escapades where your in a salad bar with Harry Potter and a bunch of Hobbits. Its really not that interesting and those people who are nodding enthusiastically are just being kind.

6. Stop reading books. Whats that in your hand? A book? And you enjoy that? Out demon! Be gone!

And lastly:

7. Be an accountant.

So that about sums it up. I reckon by the end of the week I will be grinding myself up against numerous suiters, listening to the extreme works of Britney Spears, flipping through a little book of sex tips and heading on a jet set career path to accountancy.

Because that's normal.

And I already stuffed it up.

I Must Win

Fishmonger is a word:

A fishmonger (fishwife for women practitioners - "wife" in this case used in its archaic meaning of "woman") is someone who sells fish and seafood.

Wikipedia never lies, like Microsoft, both are holy and comfy in my sweet computer based hands.

Plus, it states here that fishmonger in Hamlet referred to a "pimp", as often fish implies toward the male genitalia (penis for your delighting) but in Hamlet it is more likely the female genitalia.

This now makes the word so, so, so much better. I can now actually insult people and sound like I know what I'm talking about, instead of saying "you dick!" and sounding like an incompetent insulter, I can now say "You complete and utter fishmonger!" and seem like I am quoting the words of the great English master.

Twisted Words

I will now explain the three funniest words in the universe (or word combinations as my so called friends do not believe that if you add a hyphen it counts as a word, despite Microsoft saying it is! Microsoft never lies!)

1. Hoover
2. Fishmonger
3. Pants

Yes, after much thought, these words are most definitely the funniest words ever, ever created. I am sure that if you say these words and any random moment with a particular accent they are funny. Although most words said randomly with a particular accent are funny, these are ace. Especially the second, say it as an insult, it will do nothing to harm them yet leave them confused giving you time to run away. Or perhaps laugh, then they may think you are laughing at them and either:
a) be hurt, run off crying giving you the upper hand and the chance to do a victory stance (a chance, chance for a victory stance, stance)
or:
b) hit you to the point where you end up on the floor, being kicked, giggling over the word "fishmonger".

See? Either way, its still funny.

Hello, My Name is Holly

"If you only eat vegetables but walk down the corridor with the desire to hit everyone you see, then your not healthy"

Shit! My P.E teacher is onto me!

Be a Man! Be a Potato!

I had to think of something that really, really upset me. I couldn't really think but then I remembered the following incident.

After not eating dinner, I woke up in the morning to find a lovely potato left over for breakfast (to be sure, to be sure, potatoes, it runs inside of me). Oh what a lovely potato it was! Happy with my find, I heated it, mashed it and then wanted to know what to put on it. Searching the fridge I found some cheese, so, with this bag of cheese I dumped it over my potato.

The cheese was moldy.

This was an extremely upsetting event for me, as I disposed of the potato, unable to salvage anything from it.

I know, I know, my depth is as deep as a puddle in Summer.

If I had depth, I would do stuff like this.

Playlist- 2008

I thought I'd post the songs that have been in my head for practically this whole year and inevitably on my Myspace page, oh the joys of Myspace! If only good for bringing the lovely Lilly Allen and Kate Nash into this world.

Don't Kiss Me Goodbye- Ultra Orange and Emmanuelle

The fantastic movie "The Diving Bell and The Butterfly" brought light onto this strangely named French band. In the most moving scene, I would know I was sobbing on the plane with an audience to watch me sob, this song came on and it just makes the scene. Plus the lead singer is the beautiful wife in the movie, who stood by his side, making the song even more beautiful.

Shopping Trolley- Beth Orton
"I think I'm going to cry, but I'm going to laugh about it in the end"

Standing Next to Me- The Last Shadow Puppets
I wasn't a big fan of Arctic Monkeys, I only got into them after the Nasher covered them which is in sad taste, I know, so when I heard this song I was a tad surprised. I literally loved it to the point of playing it on repeat for four hours straight, the start is simply marvellous. Turner has done proud, pity about the Monkeys and Rascals but I do love this duo.

Make Out Fall Out Make Up- love is all
You can scream this song full head up, shout shout shout! Awesome!

A Million Lost Dogs- The Sound Movement
You know those bands that NO ONE knows about, these are one of them, well with my circle anyway, making you feel superior with music knowledge.

Sight of You (live version-1990)- Pale Saints
Shoegazer at its best, live version much better though, try to find if possible.

Lalala- Julie Delpy feauring Nouvelle Vague
Deply did everything for that fantastic movie "2 Days in Paris", even provide the end credits song adding a bit of Nouvelle Vague, what a show!

Anyone Else but You- Mouldy Peaches
A hit with everyone and I mean everyone, even those who would point and laugh at Juno in real life, the bastards.

I Melt With You- Nouvelle Vague
This is a cover (note to self, add to best covers listing) of Modern English from 1982, its very different, but not at all. Its more delicate and feminine, it actually is rather saddening to listen to as compared to the original, which is boppier and sweet but this version has her funny accent which is a bonus.

I Don't Know Why I Love You- House of Love
I played this song when I hated someones hair, it was good and made me feel good too.

Le Point Aveugle- NAAST
My attempt to improve my French just lead to angry dancing (Punch and Judy dancing) around the room playing this song very loudly.

Jabberwocky- Hatcham Social
Simply because its associated with Alice in Wonderland.

A Punk- Vampire Weekend
I can't believe how popular these guys are now! On MTV and the biz, whats happening to MTV when a band with creativity can get airplay?

Away From Here- The Enemy
The live XFM recorded version is better, more raw, but this still is great to shout to, the whole "I'M SO SICK, SICK, SICK AND TIRED" and then scream "RICHARD AND JUDY". The thieving couple they are.

Flakes- Mystery Jets
I love these lads, this was the first song I heard from their new album with that little snippet they filmed with feathers, I just love the way he articulates the words, so they sound simple but aren't at all. "You pick up the bits and nothing fits and the wind blows you away", the away putting that magical voice of his to work.

Back of the Van- Ladyhawke
This was the first song to come onto Triple J in a long time I actually liked. People are complaining about the 80's coming back but if its anything like this song or "Two Doors Down", I'm not complaining.


She Called Up- Crowded House
I was upset that Crowded House got back together, but this song was a nice little return.


Hand in Glove- Sandie Shaw
Another fantastic cover, even if The Smiths may have broken due to Morrissey want to cover Shaw, this song adds a nice spin to the best love song ever written.

This Heart Attack- Faker
My brother came up and said, excitedly, "have you heard of Faker?" Yes. "What have they done?".

Broke on a Wheel- Plug in City
Thanks to Triple J free downloads, this is a song thats sort of electro, but I actually appreciate.

More Than You'll Ever Know- Red Jebezel
This oddly reminds me of Australia completely, for reasons beyond me.

Tuesday Morning- The Pogues
If I was ever to commit suicide, it would be on a Tuesday Morning.

If You Want Me- The Swell Season
If you haven't watched Once, your dumb. Basically. I thought their performance at the Oscars was possibly the best thing and beating those "Enchanted" idiots was the next.

Making Plans for Nigel- XTC
When my mother was expecting my brother, my fathers band mates sang "Making Plans for Nigel" to her, as a sort of joke. Thankfully, my brother was not called Nigel but instead named after a port, which would have been great if my father hadn't stuffed it up and instead naming him with an "in" instead of an "en" as it was more "symmetrical". For the rest of his life he has been plagued with people spelling his name wrong. Much like myself, although at least he wasn't named after the drunk wife of a poet.

Equality for All

We were watching that American comedy, "Greek", the other day, that sort of cliche, feel-good-deal-with-serious-issues-comedy, that is alright for the most when the following quote came up:
(Boy on show talking with sister, who looks like Barbie's sister that no one can remember her name, Julie? Jenny? Fanny?) "Who ever Satan dates"

(My Father) "A goat"

And after much thought he stated "slightly worse than a New Zealander"

My father isn't racist, he believes everyone one is equal accordingly, I mean, he makes fun of everyone.

He has his "checking-the-shoes-for-dog-poo" dance for the Irish, pretending to be Michael Flatly, his anal-retentive jokes about the Germans, his Bush rants for Americans, his impressions of Carrefour shopping for Singaporeans, his beer bastard/sheila jokes for Australians, his "the English are weird" rants (which usually goes hand in hand with talking about the other side of the family) and his sheep jokes for New Zealand.

So basically, hes a pretty egalitarian man.

The day ended with us both pretending to be dead and making my mother decide who was the better dead person. I won as my mother stated my father looked like he does every night on the couch after falling asleep through a TV show snoring heavily and then waking up and acting like nothing happened. Which reminds me of a time where my friend and I were watching Pretty in Pink, my father snored all through Dukie's dance and most of the important dialogue to wake up, say" ohhh...yep..this is the good bit" and walk off.

FREE HUGS (for me)

Five things you must know today:
1. Its hug a vegetarian day, so basically, people are for once forced into hugging me. Tally so far: 13 including one person who has never spoken to me before which was interestingly awkward, but left me feeling all warm and cushy inside.

2. Ladyhawke sounds especially good played on repeat, punch, drunk love singing. This can also be applied to Spakadia's Jealousy.

3. Hands are amazing and if you shock yourself by pretending they aren't there and then suddenly producing them, they are even more fascinating and amazing providing hours of fun.

4. Transporting the tea bag to the bin or any place can never be solved of spill without a spoon.

5. If you spend the whole night dancing around your room pretending to be a Beatle, with the windows wide open in a condo, singing into your fathers beer bottle, doing the guitar moves and getting on your knees at the "she loves you" and marching to "yellow submarine", your neighbours are bound to see you. This causes odd looks and funny stares in the morning. Avoid this at all costs.

I like having low self esteem, makes me feel special

"Don't worry, he'll go for you when he's desperate"

or

"Don't worry, you have a great personality!"

Why thank you, my great personality will obviously help the effects of my seemingly disgusting face and well, gosh! I hope he does become desperate because then I can just snatch him once hes hit rock bottom! Because thats what I am! Lucky me! My self esteem just sky rocketed because of that fantastic comment! Oh joyous day!

I Let the Melody Shine

I used to rate how good a day would be depending on the music that came onto my MP3 player in the morning. It was a bad way to determine the quality of a day, that my day would be exceptional if "Friday I'm in Love" came on on a Friday, the equivalent of a triple bonus, but terrible if "That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore" came on anytime. So you can imagine how I felt when this song came on when I switched on.

Like "Sexxlaws", I remember this song from my youth, but in an entirely different manner. There were many songs that when played bring back memories, mostly the alternative 90's, probably my brothers ritual of buying the Triple J's hot 100 helped. I would sit and listen to this song on repeat, mouthing Ashcroft's crooning voice and nodding my head like in a trance. It was pretty deep.

Throughout my time here this song has been played on repeat, like a constant reminder of my childhood. It was my choice of picture for picture-nairy (a bunch of men with violins with sad little faces, representing bitter. Oddly enough it was guessed straight away giving me the boost to pursue a career in art), the song I played at my last ever Christmas in Adelaide, the song I wept to holding my bed for comfort, the only song my best friend and I could sing together, the song I attempted to play for my group performance in Year 8, the song that I ranted about, bagging out Jagger and Richards for their theft, during my summer and still the song I nod my head to whilst mouthing Ashcroft's words.

I felt happy.

I Want to go to a Happening

Some tracks I'm digging at the moment

Sirens- Temper Trap.
It was used on the rugby, so some may already know it.Its a tad..odd?



Low Happening- Howling Bells
Australian band in England, the video is pretty awesome too. This track was on the English HMV 2007 hit list, I remember. I got it for free. And I like free stuff.


Roll Out-Mia Dyson
That sort of lovely blues sound,rather beautiful and calming.


Awkward Orchid Orchard - The Boat People
Isn't it cute? Supposedly theres the names of 52 bands hidden within the video, I can't see it, but heck! Lets try..The Wombats,Led Zeppelin, The Eagles, The Doves, Flight of the Conchords...emm...The Police? I'll leave you to it.


Okay, so I had a go:
The Wombats, !!!, Black Flag, Spoon, Radiohead, U2, 50 Cent, The Young Knives, Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah!, Death Cab for cutie, eels, Magic Numbers, Gorrilaz, Guns and Roses, The Blacks Crows, Jewel, Scissor Sisters, Queen, Kings of Leon, The Jam, Eninem, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Black Keys, Viper, 3 Doors Down, The Lemonheads, Beach boys, Led Zepplin, The Eagles, The Doves, The Flight of the Conchords, Jet, Prince, Bloc Party, Flaming Lips, Seal, The Coral...37. I need more.

An Abbreviation

These are from previous artworks, sneaky peaks I guess, once i track down the artworks I'll post em. Have a nice Monday!

Don't eat toothpaste

"I've run out of toothpaste"

"You do know you're not meant to eat it right? Its bad to eat toothpaste."

Oh woah! Thank you! I have now seen the light! No longer shall I sit there for hours at a time, carefully squeezing the minty chemical mix into my mouth for the extreme joys it gives me! Thank you for your advice! I have learnt the error of my ways!

But I can't say that due to my recent reputation of being referred to as "stroppy". A word my parents told me they have "discussed" (discussed? What do they do? Sit there and converse about the recent adventures of their daughter over a nice cuppa?) and thought it was fitting. At times it is elongated to "stroppy cowette" or using their up to date knowledge of teen fads "Little Miss Stroppy" which they promised me they will design on a t-shirt for me.

Now lets define "stroppy" for you people out there:
stroppy:" ornery, fractious, belligerent, or obstreperous, and hence difficult to deal with"

Why thank you.

So every time I come back with some slight sarcastic comment or such my parents mutter "stroppy" under their breath. For example, the other day I asked "can I make myself a wrap", as in food wrap, a perfectly reasonable question to as at dinnertime. Instead my father proceeds to create his own little pun and perform his own rap. Once finished he asks "how was that Catlin?". Walking out of the room I reply with "oh, great. Yep", with only the slightest tinge of sarcasm and i get:

"stroppy"

Well! What was I meant to do? Praise his pun? Compliment him on his rhyming of skank with bank?

Its like the "your head" episode my brother had earlier this year. The "your head" episode was a period where every smart comment I made was retaliated with a simple "your head", my brothers take on "your mum". This "your head" comment drove me insane to the point of feeling highly inferior and highly annoyed. At one point, in the climax of it all, i attacked my brother, making a noise like a cow in labour I ran, screamed and jumped on him whilst he watched the anime channel. As I attacked I shouted obscenities at him including "don't you bloody your head! my arse!" and trying to bash him with whatever I could, including, as he would state "your head".

As i recall I ended up on the floor with his foot in my face. I then recall myself exfoliating my face to the point where one could eat off it, yet, I can still taste his foot now. Later I would recall the "your head" episode to the children I babysat, this caused them to use it under every circumstance including, "stop that!" "your head!", "time for bed" "your head!". I wondered later why I recalled the "your head" story to the children and if they use this outside of my babysitting hours. This may perhaps explain why I haven't received a babysitting job since.

Instead of sarcasm I whined- "I didn't eat it" elongating the "it" in a defeated tone. The typical whiny youngest child voice.

"Well, you shouldn't, its bad for you"

Your head.

The Lah in Lard-ass

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Asthmaboy

I suggest you all go as quickly as you can and download Asthmaboy's CD, now available at their website, for free. For free, feel that buzz? Thats the buzz of freedom, or, at least free stuff.Their influences include Sigur Ros, The Smiths, Beirut and Bowie

Thank you dearly to the adorable Erin/Paris for showing me the light.

Clicky clicky:
http://www.asthmaboymusic.com/
The website includes some pretty pictures too.

Martha

Another amazing poem from the unknown depths of Kelly, namely "Martha"

"Martha made her hair

Two tiny pig tails

When she’d shake her head

They’d wiggle waggle, without fail

Martha was prone to walks

Like them very much

She would look at all the things

And couldn’t help but touch

Martha’s fingers would trail along

Passing smoothly from brick wall to gate

Her fingers would slide along her old friends

And get scolded if they were late.

Martha’s walks were ones to see

They delighted all the senses

From her smelling the neighbour’s dinner

To hearing the creaking of old fences

Martha may see many people

But not a word would pass

The feeling too fragile

Mush more fragile than grass

Martha loved to wonder

And at the same time she would think

But the time never came

When she was on the brink

Martha had lovely friends

Settled, happy, carefree

They all had the deepest insight

But none of them could see

Martha would talk

Have wonderfully intelligent debates

But although her friends were lovely

None of them were great

Martha didn’t love them

Not one way or the other

If anything were to happen to her

All they would do is dither dather

Martha didn’t mind

She didn’t really care

She never really got people

She only liked their hair

Martha thought of her real friends

The ones she loved

She thought of how terrible it would be

If her hands were to be gloved

Martha’s fingers fell that day

Fell straight off a wall

But they got back up with their friends

And regained their composure after their fall"

I do greatly love the third stanza. Look forward to your next fix.

I am reminded of a Dylan Moran Stand Up Routine

"How was your day?"

Well, I was awakened at five by the noise of what sounded like a dog being castrated without any anesthetic. I then awoke every five minutes checking my watch to see if it was nine o'clock, which it wasn't every five minutes, shockingly. I then decided to awake and make myself a bowl of cereal. Sadly there was no milk much left which I had not realised until I had poured myself an entire bowl of cereal. So it was the cereal you get thats soggy yet crunchy, making you think of toenail cuttings.

I then showered whilst my CD player failed to play Van Morrisson because apparently she now hates him and will only accept to play Sounds of the Sixties on repeat, which is okay but after "Leader of the Pack", twenty times over, it begins to get a bit. Surreal. Especially when you find yourself shouting "Look out! Look out!" at the appropriate times.

So I come down before I leave and explain what happened yesterday morning to my parents. As follows: I woke up on the particularly frosty Singapore morning to walk down, still half asleep. Due to it being slightly dark all I saw was the table, which, again my cat was sitting on ("You will thank me later, by having the cat on the table I'm improving your immune system"- mothers logic). Seeing my cat I said "hello Scratchy" to which he replied "Hello Cat" to which I screamed. It was in fact my father lying on the couch which I failed to realise. In response to my story my parents looked at me like I was a retard. This has been happening a lot of late. Especially whilst when sitting in a Vegetarian restaurant I was seriously surprised and questioned in all honesty my fathers comment that yes, the vegetarian desert was made from cows ball sacks. To which I received the same look and the comment "how do you even survive?".

I finish my class to go and flip through Dolly magazine, which made me particularly sad as it was so mind numbingly pathetic. And I used to read that. Did I at the time think that bagging a Jonas boy, or some other poster faker was a good thing? Instead I bought some banana milk which I thought would be good to drink whilst I walked. I tried opening the carton, to tear it, instead of using logic, i tore the other side and lifted the square hold to my mouth. This led to spilling all over my shirt in front of a lot of Germans. Thankfully the Germans didn't laugh, therefore proving the stereotype, whilst I almost killed myself with laughter.

I then proceeded to get on the bus, smelling like milk and freezing my ass off in Singapore of all places. I strangely sat next to a man who was taking his daily pills who seemed to find it necessary to massage the chair next to him whilst talking to himself. My amazing ability to locate and sit next to the nut on the bus.

I get home, spill water all over myself making it look as if I wet myself and now you're talking to me.

"Oh yep. I'm fine".

Hormones, Sex and Black Eyes

I remember this song being really big when I was a kid, I would dance to it and sing the "crrrryyyy" bit with full force, on the ground before the small audience of Beanie Babies. At the time I thought I was massive, amazing and darn cool. I didn't know what the lyrics were about, but it didn't matter, I was pure ace. My only encounter with sex at that age, was asking my parents to receive the answer "lets talk later". That time still has not come and for that I am rather grateful.So basically "sex" was just a three letter word that looked funny.

Thankfully I never quite saw the video for "Sexxlaws" in my early morning Rage watching.Therefore I wasn't scarred by the graphic image of a fridge humping a poor, defenseless gas oven. My Rage watching was something I used to do every morning in Australia, it was my routine. This routine was later tainted when at one point Rage led me to cut off the top of my hair, in an attempt, I don't actually know, I was sort of crazed, to look good for doing my dancing in front of the TV. After the initial act of cutting off the hair, I didn't want my parents to find out. (although it was pretty obvious as it looked like my previous cuttings of Japanese Barbie, bad to the point where one might think I had a hate towards Mattel or the Japanese.) So, using my genius I hid the hair in a drawer, thinking no one would ever find it. Sadly that drawer was where we kept the keys. So if the odd cuttings on the top of my head wasn't a dead give away, my own planted fur ball in the family drawer, pretty much ensured I was dead. Rage led to my mothers rage, basically.

My first sexual encounter didn't occur until three years later (unless you include being humped repeatedly by my friends dog, which I'd rather not, although my friend 10th birthday can't really be considered either), whilst a boy jumped up and down on the bed excitedly on his back whilst I sat on the edge of the bed watching Stuart Little. I wonder if perhaps thats what he thought his parents were doing when the bed was a creakin'. Later, it was found out that his father answered the door to fellow parents in what could only be described as, well, a tie, thinking they were also swingers to be sadly disappointed by their non-commitment. And the fellow parents, to vomit up their breakfast.

So now, I'm a teenager with "hormoooonnes" and every single day I'm induced to images of my friends pretending to hump each other, a pole, a tree or anything that they can get their hands on and I think, why aren't I doing that? Where are my hormones? Why am I not tempted to pretend that the flag pole is my giant erect penis, despite being born a girl? I'm not quite sure yet am rather glad my hormones are so incredibly lazy that I feel no temptation to do so.

Instead I spend my time using eye shadow to make it look as if I have a black eye. Which I thought everyone did until yesterday my friend explained that no she didn't. An no, not many people did. So perhaps my hormones just work in another manner. Apparently, I will end up alone with 26 cats, but, sheesh, if that means keeping my dignity, I'm okay with that.

Pearls of Wisdom

Today I came up with the following when stating I've become rather numb to everything.

"The shit is always hitting the fan, so basically I'm covered in shit but I can't smell it"

Besides the disgusting visions now playing in your head, (I envision myself screaming, with my mouth open unable to stop the fan from spinning, whilst edging closer and closer toward it, whilst it spins out of control and I am left moving backwards, like in those corny movies.) its a tad emo isn't it?

Well, can't be as bad as the time I saw a butterfly and said, totally out of the blue, "I wish I was a butterfly because they only live for three days"

What I meant was they remain pretty for those three days but it just came out in a mess sounding like a suicidal hot line help call. Am I turning emo? Well, at least I'll fit back into Adelaide, perfectly.

Go to Adelaide, if your old, a farmer or an emo. Then! Be killed savagely because thats the way we do it.

I Wish I was the Nasher

"I wish I was Kate Nash"

"Yeah me too. I'll be KN 1 and you be KN 2"

"How come you get to be KN 1"

"Because I named us"

Dang.

Well, who wouldn't? Heres the lovely Nasher covering Gwen Stefani...yeh!

Just When I Think Everythings Going Great

Today my friend commented upon a drawing this person was doing on the board, just a drawing, nothing out of the ordinary, a comment basically made to herself.

"It looks like an egg head".
"You're an egg head".

This is becoming a recurring theme with peoples, a certain type of people if you get my drift (I AM UNCOOL) insults, not only do they on average suck, using the others peoples own words but they have no real need to insult them, no matter how bad the insult is. Its just randomly grabbing air, its not like they called them a flying green spotted nincompoop and they feel the need to hit back because they're the bigger person, its just nothing. In other news there a chance that our school formal will be cancelled, and hopefully it will.

Why? As a girl should I not be proud to dress up in the manner of things, for a boy one might add, dance, and do those essential girly, teen dream things, such as buying shoes. Well no. For one, I can't dance. Yes, 10 years of ballet dancing has done nothing for my grace, sense of timing or anything else for that matter, but boy have I got good turn out! No, I dance like a cardboard gorilla, perhaps a gorilla that's arms move up and down once in a while, add a few clicks and by jove! You've got me spicing it up to "Golddigger", the boys are well impressed. (For that to happen, you need to rub your groin up against their leg, a bit like a dog humping it before they are so impressed they have to "go to the bathroom")

That's the other thing. The music will suck. If the mood takes me, a certain 80's Kylie number comes on, or Little Richard, I dance up a storm, I dance like a woman on speed. But that never happens, and perhaps for the reasons as stated before(I have inherited my fathers dancing skills, which in the late 1970's caused him to give his friend a black eye whilst dancing to "Ballroom Blitz"). For instance my Year 6 social ("The Big Bike Boogie" I might add, if that name doesn't inspire you to boogie down, I don't know what will) consisted of a soundtrack of Bob the Builder and Mambo Number Five, to which I spent the whole night backed up against the wall making pretty patterns with my glow sticks. So I'm not expecting much. My parents recall dancing in the 80's as wearing mohair jumpers and swaying from side to side, now that, I could do.

Then theres the date. The whole kerfuffle about who will go with who. Honest to blog, it shouldn't matter, because they're not going to dance with you romantically like Patrick Swayze, no Dirty Dancing for you and most certainly no end of night Pretty in Pink style kiss. (In retrospect, I would've chosen Duckie, Blaine does sound like a kitchen appliance) You'll just sort of stand there, adopting my method of clicking out of time. Or else you'll hump them, either way really.

And then theres the outfit. Now in History a while back, Sir asked us to make a list of what to do to get ready for the formal. He had separated the females from the males and asked us to compose separate lists. So I sat there as all the females around me desperately scrawled and I wrote (well firstly I wrote-"rent out movie pref. a comedy"because at that time I wasn't considering going) "condition hair". Sir then proceeded to ask us to read out our lists. The other girls read out "do nails, buy dress, buy shoes, do toenails, get hair done and lalalalalala" then thinking I would be a repeat asked me to read out my list. "Condition hair". Sir slightly amused said, "no dress then? no shoes?". The whole point of the exercise was to show how greatly different girls were to guys in their preparations, a sort of difference in the sexes and how females feel the need to prim up for the male ape race. Basically beginning our topic on feminism. I guess with me he lost his argument. (Later in the term he read my "rent movie" comment whilst flipping through my book, this again left him highly amused and despite my feminist rights attitude inherited from my gran, I felt like a complete twat.). So I'm not really looking forward to the getting ready part. Yet, I have bought my items already. What! Feminist rights activist me has already bought her dress and shoes? Why yes, I have, and how? Well, you might ask. I am aiming to spend the least amount of money on the formal as I can. At the moment I have a round total of 10 dollars, for my shoes and dress, in comparison to my friend whose budget is 800 buckaroos, inclusion of fake tan.

So, I'm set. All I need to do now is "condition hair".

Stitched with Love

Image created last year of the theme of modifying fruit, doing something a tad different.

I was inspired by Sally.

England- 2006

Hampton

Windsor

Vespa Cafe

Primrose Hill

I had a dream. It was about nothing.