Random Ramblings

By demand

2009-05-06T02:56:00.000-07:00

Due to requests for naked women from people who are too rude to leave me even a mobile number or email address (especially seeing as I am prone to losing/destroying/drowning items of a small electrical thingies)

Here's a (not quite) nekkid lady.

PS Gaz drop me a line hey!
lish@comcen.com.au 0417 863 443
PPS haven't been a queenslander in nearly four years!

Toot Toot Toot lookin out my back door

2008-11-16T01:34:00.000-08:00

Sometimes ridiculous wind storms whip up enough stuff to make the view out the back door look like this...

Stuff & nonsense

2008-05-31T05:30:00.000-07:00

Hi Kids,

Yes I'm dead. Blogging from deepspace hell....

Or alive just snowed under a shitload of never ending paperwork that frequently reaches towards the ceiling... either way.

Some stupid prick tried to kill me tonight and I didn't appreciate it. I had the green light. Not you coming at me from the left at about 60km an hour trying to tbone the crap out of me. I don't have time to not have a car here people.

Anyhoo, we've put the house plans in to the council and had approval to plonk our house on the block. Woohoo, now just to tackle the whole builders quote/finance, mortgage ourselves to within a squillimetre of poverty.

Here's what the view will be like (yes the neighbours have heard we might be moving in and have put their house on the market already, woohoo)

As for the eyeball, back to the neurologist in the next week for a review, have already spent quite some time back with the opthamologist and apparently I'm such a freak they want to write me up in the medical type journal thingys. And no, no reason for the eyeball freezing incident, I is just a weirdass.

Work work work. Work is work I'm afraid. I seem to be there a lot. We've had a few drama's and let's just say I is staying away from all things fire related. Between work, the neighbour's shed and leaving the cord of the straightener directly in front of the heater and melting the ass out of it's cord.... urgh. I almost deserve the 'drama queen' tiara comolete with pink sparkles.

That's all from me for now, back to work in the morning to get over 'that time of the month' (some call it end of month, I prefer to call it 'that time')

Ciao

Home again, Home again, Jiggity Jig

2008-03-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

Back at home (yippee).

Back at work (urmmm).

Opthamologist today (urgh).

Happy Joy.

(still retardeyed).

What to say... what to say... longest post in a long time

2008-03-15T21:43:00.000-07:00

A lot has happened lately, some good, some bad, some horrible.

Those phone calls in the middle of the night never tend to be phone calls you want. Especially when the news is that one of the most beautiful kids from one of the most beautiful families I've ever known is no more. Truly a case of stupidity and indifference on the behalf of the woman who ended Nae's 15 year young life. Becka I still wanna be your lessie lover if I ever do turn. In the mean time my thoughts are with you and those gorgeous boys. We miss you all. P.S. I still have your sanity here in the box you left it in. I figure I'm best to hold on to it for a little longer. Sanity and now for you... it just won't work. If you need anything I'm here. Even if it's just to talk shit.

I got a promotion... still not sure that I wanted it but seeing as I'm not at work at the moment it's the least of my worries.

Speaking of not being at work.. had a fantastic couple of weekends with Smiley down from Brisbane. One truly drunken debaucherous night involving much Smirnoff/Stolichnaya/Chambord/Jansz sparkling.... think that's all but who would know... certainly not us. Also had a lovely day at the Taste of the Huon festival. Who wouldn't like a day sipping newly released boutique pink Sparkling wine and trying local gourmet delights sitting on the grass listening to (craptacular) live music.

Smiley headed back north on Monday and Skaed being the gourmand he is demanded a return to the Taste... who am I to refuse. Another day repeated per the previous but without the shithouse music.

Tuesday most things started to turn to shit. I got up, I couldn't see properly. Figured I was just still tired so sucked it up and went to work. And got dizzier and dizzier and dizzier and within an hour had been asked if I was drunk.... my only reply was 'I wish I was coz then I'd understand'. Skaed collected me and took me home around 10am.

By 1pm he said my left eye was closing... I said he was nuts.

3.30pm we headed for the doctors... I looked at my eyes in the mirror in the car and quietly swore that he was right.... again.

Doctor didn't like it either, made me an appointment at the opthamologist for Thursday.

Stayed home waiting for this next bloody appointment impatiently stumbling about with one eye closed. Opthamologist didn't like it either (you can imagine how unpopular I'm feeling by now) and write's me up a letter to the Royal Hobart Hospital addressed to a Neurosurgeon... what the

Toddled off to A&E thinking 'be there for a few hours... a few tests... sweet.. then I'll know the answer to what the'

More fool me. 5 hours later we are ushered through the doors of no return (after being highly amused by the rantings of a few people of questionable mental processes..... far more questionable than even mine.. the front runner being the guy who came in, demanded to know whether there was a doctor in the house.... and that he wanted to sue.... and oh where was he again.... he later appeared with 4 cops... then they took him back across to the cop shop for a nice lay down instead) . Anyhoo. A couple of nurses, a few doctors, some blood tests, some piss in a jar (and of course on your fingers... sometimes I think having a knob would be handy) tests it looks like a long long night. There's talk of possible aneurisms in my head... cat scans... angiograms... mri's... tho nothing seems to happen. Seeing as escape wasn't possible Skaed kindly toddled home to grab me a bag of something resembling underwear and clothing. Which of course spurred action. First of all I got a bed in A&E, thank GOD. Plastic chairs for 6 hours... I think my spine is still damaged. Then off for a Cat Scan... no huge fear, bung my head in a noisy donut, then flush me with stuff that makes me feel like I've wet myself... all clear. Still living in A&E.

Finally they find me a real bed in the Neuro nutjob ward (well the nutjob part was of course after I, the pirate wench arrived). High dependency ward (for fear of exploding aneurisms). Hourly observations with all the fun questions like who, what where, which wanker is controlling the country this week. Also the obligatory million needle pricks (my veins like to hide, they don't want me to be a junkie). Blood pressure, temperature, then opening my pirate eye to shine torches in it (instant headache every time). Lather rinse repeat. Trying to catch miniscule skerricks of sleep in between the poor dude across the ward from me who sounds like he's already gurgling away what's left of his life (even worse no one came to talk to him or give him love or even hold his hand).

30 hours (and a little stress, yes) later I'm going in for an angiogram. Nobody told me when I signed up for this gig that I would be repeating myself like a parrot (I'll get to the parrot) while multiple people poked at my groin... when it's my eyeball that's rooted. So all nicely (if somewhat lopsidedly shaved... you'd think they'd at least do both sides) the nurses and doctors all have a good poke around finding a likely artery to bung a needle into. Then after half an hour of feeding thingies up my arteries... deep breath, don't swallow, don't breathe, don't move (which picture taking seems to take an eternity when you've been living on nothing but saline and pain killers and some other random drug which made me throw up several times). Once again... clear.

Heaven... I can now eat again. Except it's so damn hot my jelly has turned to slop and the hot food has turned cold and the pukey drugs are still making my stomach churn. A little anti-puke drugs in the drip and an hour plus the BEST Lemonade icy pole ever I felt human again (if a little intimidated by another night listening to a man drown in his own lungs).

Nirvana... I'm moving to another ward... where I only have to be woken up at 2am and 6am.. and the other person in there speaks and is almost ready to go home (tho I'm sure she was eyeing me off... unless she thought I was winking at her... could be my fault after all).

Skaed has even managed to find a parrot for his pirate wench. His vocabulary is amazing.
'Show us your tits'
'Polly wants a f*&^ing cracker, Polly wants a f*&^ing cracker,Give polly a f*&^ing cracker,'
etc etc Much MUCH better than flowers.

Shortcut to today. The head of neurology said I could have weekend leave (wait... isn't that what they give the lunatics...oh well). After dinner tonight I'm back on the ward, ready to stop eating/drinking again. More blood tests and an MRI in the morning. Fingers crossed they'll say I have a gammy 3rd cranial nerve but it's just randomly inflamed and a course of steroids might set it to rights... or else I may be stuck there even longer.

In the mean time this pirate wench is signing off to post only at random once again.

Mwah

Fortescue Bay

2008-01-14T17:08:00.000-08:00

No I'm not known for my 'outdoorsiness' (if that's a word). But this tassie place I live in is pretty speccy.

Lots of other stuff going on. Sexbomb came down for a Retro NYE party, Skaed is changing jobs more often than underpants (tho still not smoking, so who cares). As of next week I'm my Dad's boss.... weird yes.

Must go work no. Should return again, maybe some time this month.

Get your sordid sock puppets here

2007-10-14T05:21:00.000-07:00

So I checked out a link on you-tube. It was tres funny (spanks Lost one)... and there's a link to a documentary on sock puppet porn.

Go on, link to it, I just dare ya, if you don't at least smirk then I don't know you!

Word of the day/week/month

2007-10-09T03:58:00.001-07:00

Asshat
Who can refute such a wonderful word. Not quite as offensive as asshole, but meant with even more venom in the right tone of voice.
It's said rather a lot round my place of work now, teehee.On a less cheery note (and this weeks non-blogging excuse) I have a feral upper respiramatory infection (yes boys the lungs and behind the cleavarage for lack of better terms) causing the charming hawking up of less than pleasant things that I only WISH resembled furballs. Some days it does attribute a seximified huskiness to the voice (though when the boss says you sound sexy and he likes it, tis a tad disturbing), but for the most part it just denies me the opportunity to chalk up a free drink here and there, without the bonus of not going to work! Pooh. The insomnia I could also do without. ... bloody clowns.

Happiness is...

2007-10-01T04:34:00.000-07:00

Undisturbed shells on Dolphin Sands beach (Tassie East Coast).. undisturbed til we collected some momento's anyways
Puppydogs forgetting it's been a while since they were puppies.
(Monte doing his patented shake rattle and roll)
Sand crusted Spaniel anyone?

Sammy "throw the damn ball back into the freezing water" the wonderdog

What the hell are you doing out in the frost at 6am.
Of COURSE I needed company to take frosty photo's.

Frost crusted plants (please note frostiness was some time ago, NOT current, tho it's cold enough to snow to 5oo metres again, dammit, my tan is fadinggggggg)

Where the feck have I been?

2007-09-24T04:59:00.000-07:00

Las weeekend I was here looking at this (don't let the fact that is was pre 6.30am on a Sunday fool you, bloody dogs need to pee OK)

This weekend I was not here (tho god knows, men in uniform, yum)
This used to be Myer in Hobart.. $50million k later you get something like this...

and forgive me if i find twisted metal interesting (I am a twisted wench after all)

This one makes an AWESOME desktop
On other notes:

I have managed to fall down a driveway after less than 2 drinks (2 months later.. still looks like scarring)
Tried to feed my work comp keyboard a cup-a-soup today, much to my hysterical (with laughter) distress, it no longer functions, oh well, new one it is

And frankly I'm not feeling blogfunctional, enjoy the piccies.

Mel, love to you and yours and here's to hoping things get less dramatical.
Jadeycakes, Sexbomb and the princess, here's sending you all luvs to your mysterious goings on in all them various places.

I NEED to hold a BBQ, maybe on the weekend...... anti-grand final... specially after my 'classy' cousin was caught sending out photo's of hisself in his borat suit at 11am last saturday... classy camel!!

I'm OUTTA here

Updates!

2007-07-01T01:55:00.000-07:00

Still no car, tho the pulsar is officially going to be a write off.

5am is not a fun time of day.

Will say more when all is goodness again!

(but psst we've got our eye on a rather sporty magna)

Rude Start to the Day

2007-06-23T14:59:00.000-07:00

You just KNOW when the phone rings at 6am (twice) that it can't be good news.

Poor Skaed was innocently toddling to work for another (obscene) 6am start this morning. I heard the phone ring... it was dark, figured I'd best answer it as only the brave/needy would bother calling me on a Sunday while it's dark. Mornington has claimed another victim. He was doing around 70km/h in the pitch black 5.45amness (you know that cold cold hour before the sun decides to wake it's lazy ass up) when some black ice jumped up and bit the tyres and steered him into the guard rail.

We now have confirmation that the air bag worked, though it did smack him slightly in the eyeball (makes me look like a man-beater) and the handbrake had a slight stab to bruise his forearm. Apart from that and some obvious well deserved shakiness he's all good.

The car.... well the damage from hitting a kangaroo last year will get fixed now, coz the cracked bumper is now utterly smashed to pieces. The front left corner of the car is somewhat abbreviated... the wheel looks like a normal one but the enginey type stuff looks to be kinda outta shape and it don't go no more.

Once I hauled my sorry holidaying ass out of bed to go collect I realised my car wasn't under the carport so was more a glacier tone of white and frozen stiff. The hose was also frozen stiff. Unearthed the bloody bucket and of course while elegantly sluicing water across the windscreen I slopped it down my leg. Made it up to evil Mornington unscathed, parked the car and this fog just rocked on in turning the highway into a pit of fog and icy goodness.

Thanks to the coppers who gave me a few major giggles yelling at people driving too fast, asking the other cop to back the car up a little, just to make sure he wasn't the last one driving as last time he was in this situation someone wrote off the police car he was driving.... and the ultimate blog fodder comment:

Some times I think they really shouldn't issue us with guns

Then the tow truck fairy came and hauled poor lil lonely cold Peeves the Pulsar onto the flat bed. Whilst this was happening the Citybound lanes were pretty much full of tow-truck so the cops were slowing the cars righttttttttt down. Of course one supreme wanker came in SO hot he nearly took out the cop and the two stopped cars in front of him. TWAT.

Oh joy, guess I'll be starting my days at 5am quite a bit. Yes we still have 2 cars at our disposal but no neither are auto therefore only I can drive them. Doh.

Anyhoo enough typing in gloves (it's actually not that hard). Time for breakfast and a lovely call to make a slight insurance claim. Poor bastards, 2 cars in less than 12 months.

After my fingers thaw I might post some frosticle photo's from this morning for the whinging Queenslanders

Drivel & Nonsense (as usual)

2007-06-22T06:04:00.000-07:00

So there was no shacking and I had a HUGE sulk. I know it's not Skaed's fault he got called into work that night (and I would have gone to work had I been called in) but at 8.15am my uncle calls, all good to go shacking. At 8.20am the phone rings again (no one rings me at that hour, seriously, if I'm not at work I'm not out of bed nor likely to answer people), and it's his work.

Anyways after 24 hours of being a complete laa-laa extreme I got over it and turned total dag (so unusual) and dragged the boy for a spot of:

bug the draftsmen guy and ask him how much to draw up the house so I can get things into motion therein starting my heart attack
saunter through Clive Peeeeeeters eyeing off sexy stoves, rangehoods, dishwashers and other assorted things
Hit the 10 pin lanes for some average-ish cahoots and hysterical laughter over the air-hockey table (air-hockey including childish tears of laughter, flying pucks, my bra somehow doing stunts.. damn thing decided it wasn't built for such sporting pursuits and it would rather just sneakily flip one cup under my boob... thank god it was freezing and i was wearing two tops)

FINALLY dragged my ass back to Jim (other people call it Gym.. If I'm going to get hot and sweaty I can at least masculinise the concept)... Now I hurt.

On a side note Sexbomb should by now have achieved her Silver (I think) medals for dancing but the COW hasn't text me yet. Hope that mean's she off celebrating with Shagzzy. Fingers crossed.

Word of the week - Drinjjjury

2007-06-19T05:05:00.000-07:00

Decided each week needs a new word.

This weeks word is.... (drum roll)

Drinjjjury (pronounced with a definite slurrrr)

Definition: Injury caused by excessive imbibing of alcohol (or other mind altering substance)

Examples of Drinjjjuries:

Bruised tailbone the size of a small country the day after my 30th.... completely un-noticed til I came to (I won't even pretend I woke up that morning) and went outside to sip cold fruity orange juice in the sun... plastic chairs on decks are not meant to be instruments of torture
Sprained ankles...... will have to go with the infamous Sugar Shack nightclub birthday spectacular. After a classy evening on complimentary Bacardi Breezes on arrival, complimentary champagne for a few hours, then dive straight into $2 Vodka Diet cokes this night was never going to end daintily. Add in little enough self consciousness to enter a dance competition, and somehow managing to win the prize (thanks to my extremely loud whooping and hollering by the Sexbomb, Princess & the Minibomb (and their bribery to some nearby drunk/whoopy/hollery boys)... a $50 drink card. Just what I needed. Staggering out of the club many hours later, a few friends less (they gave in, I was busy in conversation with some random people by this stage) I went to the magical hole in the wall to withdraw money to pay some poor sod to taxi me home when a crack in the concrete jumped up and ripped my ankle out from under me and my sizable ass landed on top of it. I was rather distressed at this point (not that I didn't appreciate the assistance of 'grey shirt' who we'd been checking out earlier) by the fact that I was extremely drunk and could feel the pain. Six weeks later when I finally got off crutches and my foot had finished doing it's best impression of a cabbage patch dolls foot I named this my best drinjjjury to date. Oh how we all laughed at me.
Sprained ankles 2 & 3... similar theme. It's Minibomb's fault... drinking with her in public brings out the worst in my crappy ankles... Actually father can add about another 3 of these drinjjuries to this list and my aunt a broken ankle caused by falling off a bar... we're a close family in many things.
Multiple random bruises in inexplicable places... Living End mosh pit... how the hell someone bruised the bejeebus out of my sternum like that I'll never know. Even the bruises from Skaed dragging me out of the pit (to ensure I didn't die in many sweaty squishy armpits) were impressive. Could almost see the fingerprints on my arm.

**emails a link to the Oxford Dictionary to petition for inclusion**

Stuff & Nonsenical Superheroineizmz

2007-06-18T03:26:00.000-07:00

Yeehaw, I'm on hollerdays... sucked in to all the normal people who don't waste their holidays in the middle of winter.

Apparently I could be a superhero who turns men to jelly (Somehow I doubt it but damn if it doesn't sound like fun)
No major incidents on the boat yesterday.... lots of chilled out fun (rather chilly, somewhere around 5-9 degrees c)
Stupid cowboy boots I wore decided they weren't on speaking terms on the walk to the boat though... one went forward, the other went back... that wasn't the way I was planning on improving my flexamability (tho could need that much fleximability if I'm gonna grow up to be a superhero)
The uberfrost we had last year the DAY I went on the Peppermint Bay cruise decided to come this morning... a day late... frozen everything again... was so tempted to go tap the skanky looking underwear on the washing line in the hope that it smashed to pieces to go shopping... passed as i was busy bolting for the warmth of the car... -2.5 ain't fun to walk around in wearing a dress and stockings (it was dark and I needed clothes fast... PS cleavage and negative temperatures are probably not a sensible combination, tho somewhat attention grabbing)
I was gonna crap on about something else... but I've lost the urge (and the feeling in my fingertips)

So should I go up to uncles shack for a single night (view above is off the deck)... I know it's only a 2 hour drive each way, I'm just getting put off by:

Have to pack up all human bedding
have to pack up all dog bedding
Guess who'll have to go shopping
and pack the food
and some clothing
and 90% sure I'll have to do the driving (which could involve some ice-capades if these temperatures continue)

yes I'm a lazy tart... these ARE my holidays.... it would just be so much more fun if'n I could get up there for more than one night with the other half, but of course his roster is craptacular and I don't really fancy hanging out with all my friends who are available (read Zero).

where is that link to hireamate.com again...

Freebie Escapades

2007-06-15T23:59:00.001-07:00

So occasionally working in Hospitality has it's perks.... not like you'd be in it for the (paltry) money, and love don't pay the bills (unless you're talking prostitution).

These perks resulting in me and my mad workmate from Melbourne (who's filling in for me so's I can bludge off next week and do some hard core vegetation) tomorrow queueing up for a Peppermint Bay cruise.

I have been before... and loved it. This was my front yard when I went last year. Yes that's ubercrunchy frost.
Now that we've said we're going I thought I might check the weather forecast:

Forecast for Sunday :
Showers, more frequent during the morning. Snow about the mountain, lowering to around 600 metres later. Cool to cold, with light to moderate southwest winds.
Precis	Showers, mountain snow.	Min	04	Max	09

Ahem.... fook.

Oh well we'll still get to cruise about and see pretty stuff like:

The Alum Cliffs

Sun setting over Mt Wellington (the one that will have snow to 600m tomorrow)

Tasman Bridge

And lots of other purdy stuff I no longer have a camera to photograph. I am taking donations for a new camera, absolutely hate not having one.

Going on a (freezing) freebie, woohooooooo

Brokeback Mountain

2007-06-15T05:34:00.000-07:00

Now I know how Jake thingenhall felt when Heath Ledger bent him over up that mountain....

Cold, vulnerable and exposed... though less penetrated in an overtly sexual manner.

Classy introduction I know.

Anyone who knows me well knows I loves to be on the water and I was goin fishin on Monday coz it WAS a pubic hollerday.

So I went fishing.....

It was 5 degrees (Celsius for those in the wrong part of the planet who don't speak the metric language... I don't translate).

The wind was blowing about 20 knots from the South West (read Anfreakingtarctica).

I had STUPIDLY decided I would look an utter knob if I zipped the sleeves into Dad's 50th Birthday present Stormy Seas Jacket as the sleeves are about six inches longer than my stumpy arms.

Dressed to the (fishing) nines in old sneakers, warm sockies, trackie bums (with bleach stain of course), long sleeve tshirt (complete with Some Girls Are Born Wicked slogan), Polar fleece type trackie jacket (not the favourite/comfy/warmest one, that's gone on a hollerday to Hawaii) and the 'chickenfeed' (crap shop) chenille beanie & matching scarf... I hopped on to big G's boat... a Zodiac (read fibreglass hull with a big blow up ring around it) not really realising I have NOfuckinwhere to hide from the ebil ebil ebil icy mofo wind.

Long story short.... it was as cold as Brokeback Mountain, it was windier than Brokeback mountain.. there were less sheep (tho I could see a few). I didn't get bent over (didn't have a tent either though).

But DAMN it was nice to be out and about and cold and alive on the water again!

For Mel

2007-06-10T05:13:00.000-07:00

March? I think this year at Marion Bay

Return from the Grave

2007-06-09T18:36:00.000-07:00

No I'm not dead (sorry to dissapoint) I've just been busy/distracted/idiotically drunk/lazy. Take your pick, I think they all apply.

I'm trying to think which stories of idiocy to tell but truth be told they're so plentifull/drunken/idiotic that it's hard to tell where to go (and yes for some hard to remember).

I was told I had a great birthday... (WITH purple cupcakes Thanks to the Martha Stewarts for those) Woke up feeling surprisingly undamaged... til I sat down and found a bruise on my tail bone the size of a small country. Didn't that feel delicious curled up on the grass at the cricket match the next day.

Princess & Doveboy came down to play for a few days and I skulked off from work for a few days to play tour guide as I luvs to do (Remarkable caves as below... have several bajillion photo's from while they were down & I'm not patient enought to post them all.. besides those tarts are currently in Bali)

Somewhere along the lines my cousin got engaged and had a party... ended up tres messy somewhere around 7am the next day as we tend to do. ... BUT with the promise of a wedding up on the Whitsundays somewhere August next year.

There was also a fly-by trip to Melbourne to be mesmerised by Amy Lee and the Evanescence crew with a stay at the Sofitel (gotta love staff rates) and a divine dinner at Verge . Bloody amazing weekend all round that one.

Back to reality now. Work is much quieter, thank god... and I have a week off coming (but unfortunately no freaking camera as mine has gone walkabout grrr)

Must go out for coffee. Going fishing tomorrow so no doubt will have a fresh new hilarious tale of woe regarding fish hooks/spines/blood/bruises by then.

It's my Birthday!

2007-01-10T15:07:00.000-08:00

Shit.

Dirty Thirty.

Ramblings

2007-01-04T03:57:00.000-08:00

Yes the interweb is once again at my disposal, and now (as at 11pm) I think my poor damaged brain cell and much maligned flag waving liver may now allow a little creative juice to flow... possibly.

Christmas day was pretty crap (as it is when you have some bronchitisy/laryngitisy drag queen sounding, pack a day smoked coughing lurgy and you're at work). Hence Boxing day ended up with me drowning my sorrows in mucho quantities of red wine.

NYE also involved work, as did Jan 1, so last night there was revenge to be had once again.

Smiley flew down from Sydney to play for a coupla weeks of r&r (or aa more likely). Dropped off some of her stuff to her mums, ducked over to pick up the bosses hubby, checked in to a room at work and did much running amok at Taste of Tasmania.

Highlights include:

Bottle upon bottle upon bottle of Heemskerk Jansz delicious sparkly goodness (far too many to count... I'm sure we should actually be dead today)
Divine cocktails mysteriously appearing on the table in front of us ladies (I use the word ladies VERY sarcastically)
A Seafood platter from a stall that neither Smiley nor I could identify to the six people who asked us where we got it from
Bosses hubby falling on his ass just because standing up got too hard at some stage
Other truly appalling behaviour that's probably just best forgotten

Bosses man unfortunately had to start work at 7am... throbbing head and all... I'm only going to send him pity because the rest of us escaped unscathed.

How us girls survived without headaches, melting livers, or any intestinal pyrotechnics will forever remain a mystery. We DID try to drink a bottle of water with most of the bottles of sparkling... who knows, they might actually be right about that whole drinking water thing.

Taste of Tasmania 2006-2007 will forever remain a happy if somewhat fuzzy memory... apologies to any/everyone I offended. I don't get out much... now I remember why.

Other highlights so far this year.... sucking up to the team of DSK Comifin (an Italian yacht crew from the Sydney to Hobart) and scoring a true team cap (yes I'm easily pleased and I likes free stuff, specially from extremely hot men).

End of last year highlight.... halfway through the staff party the boss deciding we could charge spirits to the tab (never seen people shift over to a bar so damn fast) and me making it home from the staff party with free accommodation, free movie tickets, ferry tickets to Maria Island and a couple of bottles of plonk richer.

Seven days and counting until the dreaded 30th. Poo.

Not dead...... yet

2006-12-07T09:38:00.000-08:00

No I'm not still on holidays (dammit) but my home interweb has got the hiccups and doesn't like me nor want me online.

Came back from the amazingly fantastic relaxey/winey/cheesey/sleepey/drivey/funky holiday . Will post some piccies etc of the holidays when my interweb and I are once again on speaking terms.

A few days later and I leapt back into work doing dad's job (ie leaving home at 7am and lucky to be home before 7pm, though there may have been a few 'after work, dear god my head is spinning out of control' drinks here and there).

Somewhere along the way was a great housewarming at the boss's (& her adorable hubby's) place. As usual, first to arrive, last to leave, nothing knew there, this skill is hereditary.... though I did manage to drive home (yes I was sober and I got breathalysed to prove it).

Spent the weekend soaking my liver in substances alcoholic, ranging from beautiful (yet cheap) red wines purchased in McLarenvale (somewhere near meadows), Vodka, Ouzo, Beer, Bourbon and really no idea what else. Cousins are bad influences (and great fun). I now really would like to purchase 'buzz the music quiz' for the ps2 because I really do suck at it and it's a great drinking game and causes much ruckus and stupidity when mixed with alcomohol.

Then spent some time lazing in the sun like a lizard soaking up the heat (lets leave the subject of my pink v white tan lines and their locations alone for a moment)

Have now stumbled back on to night audit for 4 nights, oh joy.

Speaking of which, the filing has started talking to me (things like that happen around 5am ya know).

Cop ya

Hommus (& cya suckers)

2006-11-04T02:48:00.000-08:00

I promised Smiley I'd send her my hommus....... recipe for lack of better term for throwing stuff in a blender in quantities that tickle my tastebuds. So why not share.

Please note all quantities are pretty much plucked from thin air. Make it how you like it. Add chilli flakes if you can hack it (ps they get hotter day by day), throw in Cajun Spice mix if you like it hot, who the hell cares, you're eating it.

1 425(?)g Chickpeas, drained
50ml boiling water
1 tablespoon tahini (usually lives in the healthfood aisle, sesame seed paste)
2 tablespoons Fresh (or bottled) lemon or lime juice (pick your fave)
1 teaspoon crushed garlic
Pinch of salt (entirely optional)
1 teaspoon ground Cummin
1 teaspoon ground Coriander
Cracked Pepper to taste
(optional added extras... ie if you have them hanging about they could just make your day)
Freshly chopped coriander (even if it does come out of the tube for those as lazy as me)
Cummin or Coriander seeds
Chilli Flakes
Cajun Spices (usually best put in before cummin/coriander, easier to balance flavour that way)

Dump the lot in a blending receptacle of some description and blend til it tastes delicious but is still slightly lumpy... texture is a good thing people.

Taste, add stuff at will, blend some more... etc etc til ur tastebuds are tingling and you have the insane urge to stuff hommus in your mouth until the whole thing is empty.
PS this stuff needs no oil to preserve, will last about a week in the fridge (if'n you don't pig out on it long before then, if it's in the fridge that long you made it wrong).

Recipe idea: Use it instead of tomato paste on a pizza with some Dukkha chicken and roasted capsicum and other yummies, absolutely divine.

Must sod off, clothes are packed and house is in state of utter shambles.

Cop ya in a week peoples!!!

Stuff & Nonsense, Divinity & Borinness

2006-11-02T21:30:00.000-08:00

Well, I've been approaching death with quietness, this much is true.

Leaving home at 9.30am and barely making it home by 12.30am will do that to ya. As will volunteering to house sit (and dog, cat, spa & more importantly CAR sit).... Trying to blog from dial up hell is a less than pleasant way to spend time.

The upsides of life are these:

I have a car!!! God how I've missed her. I had to take her for a quick shopping expedition then home, so she wasn't exhausted or feeling neglected.
I'm on Holidays (for 2 whole divine weeks, including a week toddling from Adelaide to Melbourne via the Great Ocean Road)
Results day at the gym went well, more kg's that have gone awol, more cm's of me that have seemingly melted away. Relieving seeing as I've had transport issues, girlfriends visiting and gourmet meals here there and everywhere.
Took Skaed out for a gastronomic orgasm the other night, and his boss paid for it... value!

The crap sides (all happening to other people....... sorry guys, it's not often I actually have all good stuffs going on at once)

Smiley didn't get the job we were dying for her to get on the Sunshine Coast. Buttheads
SexBomb took a dive yesterday at the shops after too much dancing and not enough food/water.... silly muffin, EAT AND DRINK woman, I'll be there to monitor your progress bloody soon.

I also had some great random thoughts through the week.... well they wre great at the time, now they're more vague recollections.
I know 'what does human flesh taste like?' was a contender, but beyond that....farknose.

Must attempt being crafty and skankify some clothes for Ma & Pa to dress up as hookers at the party while i'm away. Dad's going for a black above the knee skirt with one side ruched up pretty much to the waist. Mum's is a pink snakeskin beauty we're going to slit up both sides pretty much to ass level. Funny how sewing actually has a (small) amusement level when used for Pimp & Prostitute amusement.

Am contemplating taking the lawn mower for a walk in the sunshine...... just so not in the mood for gritty sweaty cleavage.

Just Stuff

2006-10-16T17:13:00.000-07:00

Well, the drunken blogging didn't happen. Not due to lack of drunkenness (on my behalf anyways, that black vodka does the job as good as any purely clear vodka).

We just did girly stuff. Out for lunch to the old cannery and a poke around, stopped in on the folks to try to pass on some gear for dad to get all 'pimp & prostituted' up in 2 weeks time (yes of course he's going as a pro, he's just not the pimping type).

Slinking off to the pub to make poor Skaed work even harder than usual (the one bonus of knowing the bar staff is the vodka's they pour knock ur panties off in one fell swoop) and listening to the bluesy band on a Sunday arvo/night.

Buggering off to the Cadbury factory (me having lived here about half my life but had never been there). Apparently we were about 3 months late, you can no longer take free samples as you travel through the factory (boo, hiss) but you do get 5 samples at the start or end and a box of Favourites on the way out.

Then sitting nearly motionless in the sun outside Mezethes in Salamanca Square, scoffing Saganaki, sipping Sparkling wine with lunch (only to be sprung by bloody relatives while being a lady of leisure.... well he was there having lunch tooooo).

And the sad part of sending Sexbomb back to the boring old town of Melbourne. Lucky we'll be there with her again by the 11th of November, so all is well.

The insurance assessor dude called yesterday about the car... $8,000 (I believe I choked and said Jeebus at the same moment, thank god I'm not paying).

Also chatted up a dear friend of mine who bashes panels for a living.... at least another week if not more til I get my freedom back!

Bah.... time to go let the Smiling Assassin torture me! Cop Ya

Disclaimer

2006-10-14T03:12:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer effective until Monday afternoon. Posts most likely will contain swearing, cussing, social commentary of the dissident drunken idiot kind, perversions, kinkiness, stupidity and general states brought about by the consumption of the Black Vodka I made a spontaneous purchase of this afternoon (or the case and a half of red stashed in the pantry), coupled with the company of the SexBomb herfineself!

So yeah, good stuff to come (if we're able to type anything that makes sense).

How is this different to normal? I hear you ask.

This time I have someone to blame!!!!

Yayyyyy

fire, fire, burning bright

2006-10-12T17:13:00.000-07:00

NOT something I like to see. I have a healthy respect/fear (combined with fascination) with fire.

Arriving at work and being told it could take you 2-3 hours to drag your sorry ass home that night is not pleasant.

10 bushfires yesterday (and most likely continuing to burn today, hopefully more controlled) in the greater Hobart area.

Seeing the sun like this is just eerie. Haven't heard about any lost houses yet, mostly sheds, fences, and poor wildlife I'm sure.

We cleared 34 degrees yesterday, talk about obscene. Just to make matters even better the air-con at work had a heart attack at the heat and could only cool us down to 30 or so (lovely when you're working in a long sleeve shirt and for about 30 seconds a jacket).

Highways were chaotic/closed. The poor guys who run the airport shuttle service only got people to flights on time (as highway closure was between city and airport) because the flight crew were late as well.

Fingers crossed things are a little less nuts today.

It was spooky last night driving home and seeing this on the road, felt like it was within touching distance....

Why going to work some days just isn't worthwhile

2006-10-11T06:12:00.000-07:00

And lo and behold Blogger has decided that one photo is enough. Stupid blogger, I can't even up load my Porker picture.
Oh and by the way yes I'm OK, the car's in hospital, she had to go in the car ambulance (that wheel was on a quite absurd angle). Don't know (or particularly care) what condition my near neighbour's car is in.
Night!

Modem go Crunch

2006-10-07T03:40:00.000-07:00

Taa to all for comments, would answer them but trying to sneak this one in while at work.

Skaed had an oops.

Jumped up in the study to answer the phone. Boot + Modem+ Wall=no internet for me at the moment. They crunch into tiny pieces.

You'll be glad to know I haven't killed any random animals, or people, have been mainly sober and going to gym/eating properly (yeah yeah piss boring I know).

Know I had something hilarious to tell but will settle for:

Met Mr Hardman today (a guest.....god the things I wanted to say.... could NOT keep a straight face)
SexBomb has proven she's a drunken skank (multiple drunken forgotten phone calls last night, forgotten wallet, trying to vomit in bins on the way to work, you name it, she probably did it and is denying it)
there's something I can't remember... maybe that was in a Vodka fuddled brain cell that popped....

Anyhoo, that's why I'm very shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Cop ya when I get the patience to reconfig the old modem (takes a few vodkas, I don't have a few vodkas to spare, saving them for when SkankBomb hits town next Sat night)

Shout Outs

2006-10-01T19:46:00.000-07:00

To the cop who pulled me over doing 127km in a 110km zone and downgraded me from a 3 point, $110 fine to a 124km/hr $80 fine turned caution (so I don't gots to pay). Thank you.

To Skaed who bought me the most kitch pink piggie that sings 'my girl' complete with croony head and body movements and that makes me laugh without fail. Thank you. (will take a piccie of Porker the pig on my days off to show his kitch cuteness).

To Smiley who came down to play and got me completely blotto (could have been my fault slightly also). Thank you.

To everyone who's put up with my complete drunken idiocy for the past two weeks. Your all nuts.
Thank you.

Things that go 'baa, thump' in the night

2006-09-27T16:53:00.000-07:00

Well in the afternoon anyways.

I picked Smiley up yesterday, and we toddled around gathering deliciousness (in the form of Salmon and Vodka) in the afternoon.

Somewhere between the shops and the pub.... a baa lamb was innocently (if somewhat stupidly) toddling along the road.

I couldn't swerve left or we'd be dead in the ditch, I couldn't swerve right or I'd hit the 4wd coming in at about 100km. I braked for all I was worth.

Thud.

Fuck.

I had to go back and find out what happened to BaaBaa.

He wasn't on the road.

He wasn't in the ditch by the side of the road.

BaaBaa the flying sheep was lying in the paddock.... 25 METRES away from the road.

What the fuck?

How does a dead flying lamb fly that far???

We got the giggles (to smother our horror/discomfort) which turned to distress as allllll the other sheepies in the paddock wigged out and bolted off up the hill away from us (obviously marking us as the mass murder type).

Anyhoo in true (of late) me style we came home, had a delicious dinner (I even managed to make coconut jelly!) before downing the bottle of vodka and a lot of red wine just for the hell of it.

I am the only one in the house (apart from the dog) that hasn't thrown their guts up. (Classy or what).

I put it down to the hard training I've been doing this week (at drinking, not at the gym).

Night before last I had a 'quiet knock off' drink with one of the regulars at work. That took nearly six hours to finish... me thinks my kidney has come out waving the white flag!

Must sod off, trying to con uncle into lending us the adorable shack (will force Smiley onto the tennis court) muahahahaha. If she's stopped hurling that is

Why I've been AWOL

2006-09-24T18:32:00.000-07:00

OK so I've had what I consider a hard week. It started when this happened.

I kinda sauntered in the door to work, as one does only to be cornered by rampant (numerous) staff members determined to bring me up to date.

I was a little shell shocked. As per usual it couldn't have hit the fan on a worse day. We had functions in every room, a nearly full hotel, and extra staff called in to try to keep things running as OK as is possible.

Then I worked out just who they were talking about and the shock factor kinda increased.

The night before I'd been merrily minding my own business when this bubbly woman bounds up chasing info on the night spots about town. I pointer her in (what I considered) the right direction, which is where she was headed anyways. Just dressed in the casual/conservative/comfy in my own skin kinda style. Determined that having fun was coming second, work was just an inconvenience that would be managed as well as possible in the state she may end up in. She even had plans for the next night all worked out.

As she trotted out that door, carefree and determine to have fun I thought nothing more about it, just got on with the daily grind.

Til I got to work the next day and remembered. I was a little slack jawed and wide eyed for a few minutes, then a little guilty.... did I send her out into that? Then the next thought process is jeebus, we send hundreds of people on their ways to nights out, it really just is a bad pick of the litter.

So I'm working away quietly, forensics and police coming and going (always a good look) and just check who else was up there that night, did anyone hear anything. Five coppers (one in the room immediately next door), 8 defence force guys.... jeebus jeebus jeebus, talk about bizarro world None of them were any the wiser.

My night auditor rang in (having just seen the news), I'm naming her Wednesday coz she really does remind me of her some nights. Tried to tell her just a little to settle her down. Complete opposite effect. The duty manager tries to call her only to be told to fuck off by her fiance. Firefighter (the casual night auditor) has been fighting fires all day after coming off night shift, he's in no state to work. All eyes fell on me. Fuck.... another graveyard, but this time a split shift ending in a graveyard. Double fuck.

I quietly slunk away to the bar at 7pm (having started at 3pm) figuring work owed me a quiet one. One of the spanish crew offered to buy me a drink ... awwww, so sweet, but I figured I had to be sober by 11pm when I was coming back on shift so sadly refused (and dammit they sent him home the next day and I never saw him again for the promised drink or dance).

I hooned up to the service station, pick up some highly caffeinated beverages and slunk back to the hotel and up to the room my exboss and I had macabrely selected directly below the one where all the action was last night. Called the boys downstairs and demanded free steak (which I actually got) and curled up in a bed with no hope whatsoever of falling asleep. Flicking thru the channels I found a Nicholas Cage movie "the Weatherman" paid no attention to it but still didn't sleep. It ended, flick flick flick onto SBS and these words appeared in subtitle fashion "just stick a heated banana in your fanny and let him do you up the ass". What the HELL is going on in this world. I swear I wasn't hallucinating. After 2 curious minutes I lost interest and a movie was on with Matthew McConaughey in it, hubba hubba, no sleep for me!!

Back down to work at 11pm. Thankfully a farily quiet night, tho in the state of the tired it was quiet hard enough.

At 5.30am my boss texts me to say she's coming in early so I don't get dead driving home... and the offer stands that if I need a nanna nap the room upstairs is still mine. I want my bed, I want my man, I want my dog to keep me warm. To sleep around 9am and MUCH to my disgust bolt awake by 12, tho still feeling, looking most zombie like. Dragged my butt into the shower, off to the gym, then down to the olds for dinner (didn't feel like sitting around alone much). Had a few quiet drinks with dinner, then decided to crack the magnum of Cab Sauv in the car. That was the end of both Dad & I. Passed out around 11pm only to wake at 5.30am with screaming howls of wind. Crap (sleep total now 9.5 hours in 2 days). Toddled around a bit for the day, home, shower etc then remember tonight's the night work was putting on drinks for the spanish crew. I had promised a couple of the guys I'd be there. I'm not one to re-neg (thought the thought of alcohol was not particularly tempting).

Slapped on some acceptable girlie clothing (rather than boxy uniform type stuff) and toddled off to the bar at work. A couple of quiet ones with work and the adorable spaniards (some of these guys have been there since August 1) and escaped to drop the boss home to her place. One more quiet one with her and her hubby. My cousin (who I inexplicably haven't seen in months) texts me and says his brother's over and why don't I come have a couple of drinks and watch the football. I figure I can ignore the football but company... yeah.

5.30am I'm in a reasonably drunken red wine/vodka/port/jagermeister induced haze. My cousin Camel has turned very 'rock out with my cock out' Utterly unneccesary when you consider we're all related... some things you just don't want to see/know about family.

I finally pass out... for 4 hours... god DAMN it my body hates me (total sleep now 14.5 hours in 3 days). Haven't been home for days.

Stagger home, shower, deep breaths, shuffle on the work gear. Forgot the spaniards had invited us to visit their ship at 1pm. At work that afternoon and the captain asks what happened. I hang head in shame and admit I had too long a night to be there. An hour later the chef bounds up and says 'you no on ship today' Duh. 'You come tomorrow, you come with Care Bear & Spanner, I make you lunch'. Woohoo, free lunch (and knowing these guys free booze ..... the kidney moans like the defeated organ it is).

Home that night, crashed and slept... at last.. until rudely awakened by the alarm.

This time we DID make it onto the boat. The grand tour and all. Crawling all over the bridge, through the kitchen, hanging out the gangway holes without gangways. Delicious food AND some photo's. Due to pouring rain I couldn't get a decent one of the outside but Incat did and they built it.

Will upload my pics (maybe) when I have a few more minutes.

Then on to work last night. Kinda nice when everyone who goes past stops for a smooch on each cheek on their way upstairs. Kinda sad when you realise that's the last you'll see of them (but glad my man's not a furry face, I think I got beard rash while workinig.... classy much).

So anyways, that's where the hell I've been.

As for the sexcapades... SexBomb the lazy tart won't write it herself (I have begged btw). Basically he's a man, without a clue, mixed messages fucking galore. One minute all touchy feely, the next just an instructor. Get a CLUE travoltage, either you want in (and why wouldn't you) or you don't. It's simple you wanker.

Ahem

Rant ends here

PS the murder rumours are rife

It was something Michael Hutchence style
He was mentally unwell and off his meds
The reason it's a murder charge is he's been fantasising about it

I just want to know what comes out in the trial, that should close it off properly. Just need to know what happened to her, my heart goes out to her friends and family.

Sexcapades (she wishes)

2006-09-09T00:12:00.000-07:00

OK OK enough with the pressure people (can't believe you're insane enough to care about our bs, lol).

If you're not up to speed scrol l down to the next post, I can't be assed reitterating stuff, it's my Sunday afternoon.

Sexbomb did confess her affections for Travoltage. In the pure chicken manner (online that is, and no that's not a criticism, I think it's a bloody good idea for us cluckers).

They started confessing via ringaroot.com (or whatever the dating site is called) and crunch time arrived when he asked if he could see the picture she'd cunningly hidden. She hesitated (obviously) and did admit that they knew each other in that reality place hence the hesitation.

Some 24 hours and a dancing lesson later she managed to throw him the password and all was revealed (brave girl, more power to ya). He claimed he had a feeling it was her (yeah like guys get vibes about things like this... then again he is a dance teacher... could be in touch with his feminine side).

Unfortunately he also said that studio rules are no fraternising with students, blah blah blah blah.

Things are ok between them now, but having stated the previous rule, Shazza,
SexBomb, Travoltage and the other random dance teacher who can now be called ummmm Astaire (tummy's too hungry to think up anything better) were all found at a Melbourne bar after class last night, until some ungodly hour just drinking, dancing and having a giggle.... so bugger me there will be further posts!!!

On other notes

I survived to results day for my buffenating... 4km and 10cm of my body bits and pieces have been worked off. Woohoo, I went the right way!
Work is STILL full of Spaniards and some of them are heading for the dead set sleeeeeeeeazy category having hit on 4-5 female staff members in a night.
Sleazoidism has spread from these guys to

The guys that were on a variety bash car rally type thing who asked for just "2 minutes" of my time (apparently that's all they need)
Other Spaniards
and other random guests who range from asking to escort female staff to nightclubs, join them for dinner and my pearler 'do you give massages?'. Yeah I love to give random massages to twunts (I'm borrowing that word, HMHB) who are on holidays with their mother while hitting on other staff, myself included. (NB My theory is he's gay but not out of the closet yet so sleazing to put mummy off the scent.

Sexbomb is coming to visit me in October. Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, but dear god, the bitch wants me to go to the Cadbury Factory (guess who's going to go with just enough money for the tour and not a cent more!)
Smiley is also coming to visit me in 3 weeks... hot damn I almost have a social life!
Richard Marx was fab, still got a great voice and hey, I'm a dag, bring back the 80's! (Dinner and running into a mate from 8 years ago was also great)
I'm addicted to hommus... in a big way! Speaking of which, must go shmear some around so I can eat before my stomach turns cannibal and eats itself

SexBomb's Escapades

2006-08-29T12:04:00.000-07:00

She knows I talk about her and she's such an attention whore, she buzzed me tonight just to be sure to get her 10 seconds of fame (from all 3 people silly enough to read my drivel and rubbish).

Here goes the beginnings of the story.

John Travolta (the dance instructor) is quite the little cutie. It has been discerned that he is of the straight persuasion, and the other important things like he is available and looking (not to mention he has a great butt). He's also been rather complimentary to her of late, and it's been commented on by one of the other girls in group class that this is different behaviour from the norm (or at least what she's seen). All good signs!

Being your typical female, The Bomb is somewhat hesitant when it comes to the actual "Hey wanna go out and see a movie/have dinner/get a drink/run away to Tahiti together" part.

Having said this her sleuthing skills are rather extraordinary and guess who she dug up on a dating website.

Tuning her profile a bit (hiding the photo and eliminating one or two comments that might have given the game away) the Bomb sent Travoltage one of those little free messages that read something like "I think we'd have fun together" or something equally naff (but naff is preferable to spending money needlessly of course).

Then comes the 'eeeep' bit last night. He replied!!!! and said he'd like to see her picture. Now her tongue is tied up in knots, belly's doing backflips and the heads running a million miles an hour with the "what if's?" and "wtf do I do now?".

Being the (boring) sensible friend (who'd barely slept through the day) I recommended giving it the 24 hour rest treatment while we plan the next instalment.

An hour later I get a text, she's still lying awake doing one of the things she does best.... having a stress out...

The dilemma is... does she:

a) Fess up at group class tonight

b) Fess up via hotnnasty.com (yes I'm taking the piss, but it's some dating site)

c) Run like buggery and just not reply (if she does she'll be hearing from me, it will be loud AND annoying)

d)..... buggered if I know

Anyone with fantastic ideas we'd both appreciate them.

SexBomb, gorgeous as she is, is terrified of making an ass of herself and spoiling a good danceypants relationship.

I'm extremely outta practise at this 'approaching boys' thing having been off the market for 10+ years... help us out peoples!

A Shitty Day by all accounts

2006-08-27T12:01:00.000-07:00

This is NOT how to start a day:

Wake up earlier than planned (after 6 or so hours of sleep, thank god it was good sleep).

Go to the bathroom and discover your toilet is quite successfully attempting to belch up foul and MOST odorous mysterious sewerage type matter.

Vainly try to correct the out of control revenge of the toilet with a plunger with an EXTREMELY short handle (thank god I had hair dye in the cupboard with gloves to use.... didn't help with the extreme nausea though).

Make a second attempt on vanquishing the bog demons by shoving a hose down the loo. How the HELL I got the job of hose shover and HE got to be the fat tap controller I'll never figure out (yes I had a dummy spit after my stomach stopped doing amazing triple flips with quadruple twists some time later).

Comb the yellow pages in desparation looking for a plumber that's not too far away (when you consider we're in a slightly boondock flavoured area) and is willing to ruin his Sunday playing with rancid faecal matter.

While waiting for the poor plumber (who's soon to make us poor I'm sure) here a 'beep... buzz...buzz' from the mobile that was still on silent (this is a frequent occurence, 8 years of having to have it on silent I rarely remember to turn it back on).

Check the missed calls register... three ominous missed calls that all seem to be work extensions.

Call straight through to the Duty Manager to find out the down low... Night Manager's sick.. out for the count... can I do grave tonight instead of the nice cruisy afternoon shift I was meant to have.

.....god I wanted to go back to bed, hide under the doona and not come out... preferably for several days.

So here I am at 5am with approximately 1 hours sleep chortling on the couch yesterday rather than watching some repeat of 'The Great Outdoors.'

Just to shmear the icing on the cake.... the fucking fucking EFTPOS lines have crashed at some stage and do NOT work.... morning receptionist and duty manager are going to have fun. I'm hoping to shirk ALL responsibility and slink off.... home or the gym... we'll see how conscious I am at that time.

The 27th August was a shitty day. What else can I say.

Thud....Fuck

2006-08-26T02:10:00.000-07:00

Two things you don't like to hear at the gym.... "Thud"...."Fuck" (between songs in the cardio department...Maybe I'd rather hear those things than say/do them though...).

Some poor girl bunged her knee playing on the Cross Trainer (see ...I said they were evil) and flew off it backwards and managed to hit the wall as she collapsed in a little heap behind the jungle of machines.

Skaed was sweatily pedalling away on the machine next to me and was completely unaware as his new mp3 player had him sealed into his own little planet. Where I was between songs and completely lost interest in the fact I had 2 more minutes to pedal like a demented midget and try to beat the sainted frustrating 11.6km mark. Need I even say I got to the 11.6km mark... again.. and no further as I was rubbernecking rather than paying attention to the shrinkage of my ass (20 minutes on a sexercise bike = 11.6km no matter how hard either of us seem to try)

Speaking of my ass (what a hideous way to start a paragrah for those in the know) I think the shrinkage has begun... parts of me are certainly not quite as flubbery as they were two long hard weeks ago. Buff and toned are not words that come to mind... yet.

SexBomb has had some progress picking up her John Travolta (Dance teacher). It would seem he IS of the straight persuasion, is single, dating (females) and can be found on one of those "I'm desperate" websites (I'm going to get hit for that one, SexBomb only found out coz she's on the same one, teehee). Travolta has been most unrevolting this week, and complimentary to boot... so out comes SexBomb's more 'revealing' dance wear and the smile we all know and love. Very tempted just to ring up the studio and say "my friend likes you" because I haven't done that since high school... but my life is more important than that.

The pupsicle (Mad Sammy) got a trip to the beach today. I couldn't be assed driving all the way to the gym to sweat so I hopped along the beach in a half walk half stagger/jog and threw the ball for ages to dry and get the dog to smell less doggy. Which he did. Until he found the corpse.

It seriously looked like a human spine with long long since deceased skin & clothing hanging off it (bloody hope it wasn't though). Undisturbed it was gentle on the nose. When Sammy nose dived on it for a bloody great rub... PHWOAR. Another swim, a violent rubdown and he got into my gorgeous little car. Little bastard still reeked of seaweedy fishy maggoty death though didn't he. Windows down and driving at a speed approaching the speed of light to get our asses home while trying not to reach.

Threw poor Sammy out of the car soon as I got home (ok, so I opened my door and he flew out as usual) I managed to get inside without him and find my stolen hotel bottle of shampoo from some random hotel somewhere and dragged sammy to the hose for a shampoo and set. He went from stinky sphinctery to delicious in 2 minutes (but was left outside to dry just in case there was underlying pong remaining).

Back at work tonight, 2 lates, then 2 fucking fucking graveyards. If I don't sleep this week you'll know when you hear about the attempted mass murder/suicide with a plastic spoon.

Lots of lovely oldies in tonight for a 60th... am waiting to seem them all weaving and giggling like teenages. Gotta love old drunks. It's either that or wait for the swimmers to come back so I can ogle their goodies. Doubt there'll be much ogling to do due to cool weatheriness though, doh.

Yawn

2006-08-22T10:05:00.000-07:00

So another day, another hideous graveyard.

And I am mentallyAT THE PADDLE STORE! (with not a cent to my name nor any spare credit, not even belly button lint to barter)

Now not even 3am and the yawns are taking me over. I'm determined however to save that sacred bottle of V I stashed in the fridge until at least 5am so some of the caffeine drives me home and not into another car/truck/bus/ditch/off the bridge etc.

Sleep is evading me. I look like a zombie (funny, I feel like one too) and of course the figures decided to do funky things tonight and not just straight out balance and behave (fuckers).

I had yesterday so well planned. Work, gym on the way home (and I actually went and have the blister from my jewellery to prove it), quiet piece of toast, juice, and a hot shower when I got home. Polished off a coupla chapters of a book I've pretty much read the pages off anyways and curled up to sleep. Worked a charm!

Til I woke up 2.5 hours later.... much to my disgust. From then on I only managed small dribbly non-sufficient pissweak attempts at sleep.

Said it before, but I have to reitterate, graveyard works sucks. How I survived 4 months (or thereabouts) doing it I have no fucking idea. I am NOT nocturnal!

Also sitting here in the calm (though I did sneak down to the restaurant to crank the music, and killed the muzac til 6am to prevent the monkeys in my head from rioting... I have no bananas)... nfi where I was going then.... got distracted and wandered off in search of things sugary and awake (and succeeded in finding some divineLemon Curd Tart... mmmmmmmm... oh bum, might have to go for a swim on the way home now).

3 days off are coming... in approximately 3.5 hours (when I say 3 days please keep in mind the first one IS today and I don't finish work til 7.30am (in theory, in reality I plan on being out the door by 7.10am).

Guess I'd better go finish wrapping up the bits and pieces of work type sstuff they expect me to do.

I miss the sandman, I hope he visits me today.

If he doesn't I'm going postal on his maggoty ass.

430am a-Musings

2006-08-21T11:50:00.000-07:00

Soooooooooo yeah it’s about 4.30am and I’ve reached a pitch of madness where the voices start speaking sign language (and not very politely I might add).

I think I’ve done everything that needs doing…. As much as I am able to think after having 1-2 hours sleep since 8.30am this morning. I can feel my IQ dropping on a minute by minute basis (it’s into the negatives). Please note that Muzac does NOT help matters. Unfortunately, guests are starting to wake up so I can’t throw on red eye radio in the restaurant and dance around like a tard. Much to my disappointment.

There are good points to working this shift.
1. No bosses, I am the boss, what I say goes.
2. …..

OK so there’s a good point. That still makes me sleepy.

Speaking of being a tard. I used a Cross Training machine at the gym. Will I be tackling it again on the way home from work in the morning? The answer is a big fat FUCK no. Cross Trainers are the Devil!

I’ll be so unco I’ll be lucky to stumble up the stairs and stay on the bike for more than 2 minutes without falling asleep on the floor with my feet still strapped to the pedals like a bondage movie gone wrong. Cross trainers make my legs do weird and non-wonderful things. Damn me for not bringing the swimming gear when that’s what I think I could possibly do (they have a life guard to save me from drowning when I snooze off mid lap).

Hmmmm he smelled nice.

(yes I’m easily distracted, deal with it)

Forgotten what I was going to say, must be time to replace blood with all things caffeinated.

Progress.

2006-08-16T20:54:00.000-07:00

OK, so I'm still going to the gym AND I haven't killed anyone yet.

This is a milestone for me.

Discovered sleep deprivation and strength sessions really don't mesh well together however.

The idea is to keep going until the muscles are fatigued.... my entire self was so fatigued I could barely be assed moving. This is obvious today when I don't hurt in the least and I swam 1km after the workout... weird.

Mental note to self... sleep, THEN do the bad stuff.

Had the roster from hell this week.. 7am til 3.30pm for 4 days, then 3pm til 11.30pm, then the next (and most heinous) 11pm til 7.30am again. Damn the casual night manager for taking time off, and damn me for saying, yeah I'll do it.... Dur.

(insert slight pause while I do my imitation of a washer woman)

Dammit, this housework faeri business really does interrupt my creative flow. Must earn enough money to get a hot houseboy (still thoroughly distracting, but infinitely more enjoyable).

Nothing to rant about, nothing to laugh about, things are just very ho hum.

Will sod off now and glare at something to pass time til I go annoy the relatives (too lazy to cook dinner tonight).

Alive and about to start kicking!

2006-08-13T04:24:00.000-07:00

First, apologies, I'm not dead (the rumours I've been spreading should have said that I was).

Apologies also for anyone wishing to comment.... I muffed it up.... how unusual... as of now comments should be damn well working again!

I made it to Melbourne to play with the girls. I got wildly intoximicated on red grape juice in Lygon Street to the point of making a complete ass of myself (or so I'm told....). I shopped but barely spent anything... suckers. I talked a LOT of shit... as per usual. I watched SeXbomb at a dancing lesson while trying to work out the sexual orientation of her instructor (we're still unsure). My cousin's adorable daughter smeared flu germs on me... oh well, there's still love. I didn't have love however for the germs that stuck and made me end up off work in a pathetic state AGAIN. Twice within the same month is entirely pissweak. Oh well, alive and well again now.... apart from the obviously scarred mental capacity.

For those who know me well take a deep breath before reading the next line.

.

.

.

Yes I joined a gym.

(waits while you pick your asses up off the floor and come to).

The dreaded 28th+2 birthday approacheth as does the early (snigger) life crisis.

I can't take this ass to a party, so I have to build a new one. So far they haven't been entirely mean to me, tomorrow that will most likely change. It's entirely possible I'll just be blogging something along the lines of 'mutter, mutter, snarfle buttocks faecal eating butt dwelling monkey maggots' by tomorrow night. But shit happens.

Other things....

Big Mac (aka dad) finally lost his temper. My whole life I don't really recall him ever having a real barney at anyone. Snide comments and sarcasm yes. Eye rolling and shrugging....

But I guess when the bogan's down the road come round the corner for the 57th time at ridiculously high speeds and take out the rubbish bin and recycling bin for the 10th time.... then do another lap and come EXTREMELY close to running the hell over you while you try to clean up the mess that you would just snap. And he did.... picked up the recycling crate, half full of empties... and hurled it at the car you just examined at close range (well cars are close when they're almost on top of you)... and bugger me if he didn't hit it!

Some time later the bogans (utterly offended that their dunnydoor had a ding of some description in it, and entirely uncaring that it happened out of pure frustration and maybe a little fear that someone had just kinda almost killed you) surfaced on the street... with friends (cowards much) and started hurling abuse, rocks and other objects at the house. They managed to break the letter box off, break the gate off the hinges, threaten some other charming acts of kindness, dent the garage door.... just classy.

Cops were called. The threats (thankfully) amounted to nothing... except amazement that my father has a temper. OK so he smacked me once when I was being a cheeky bitch (innocent angel that I am) but I timed it badly... he'd just backed the 4wd into the top of the garage door and dented both... doh.

Speaking of cars hitting things (no I didn't hit anything). We went to the old's for dinner the other night and the car and a large wallaby/small kangaroo got a wee bit closer than is comfortable. Car 1, Roo 1. Not sure if the roo made it but the front bumper didn't, one bit smashed off, another is hanging by a thread (waiting to be either insuranced up, or gaffa taped back together).

On the 'doh' side of things... SeXbomb is no longer coming to play with me in October... I've been written out of the budget.

On the 'woohoo' side of things... my Sydney girlyfriend Kinky is coming to play in September.

More girliness and silliness please.

I hate TV today. Isn't enough to watch these people stumbling along on Neighbours... why do I also have to hear the Mangler girl on the radio.... then she pops up on a 'preNeighbours' show of her own, so exciting... she rented? an apartment.... wow what a thrill.

WTF did we watch pre 'reality' TV.

I was so relieved to see the ass end of 15 hours a day of Big Brother, then channel surfing tonight, to my disgust, they're trying to work out which one of them has a brain.... talk about fishing for nothing.

On the upside... Yasmine's no longer husband hunting like a skanky whore because no one wanted to watch her shallow self centred self.

Speaking of skanky whore's ( you know I love ya)... SeXbomb made it onto TV (the one bit of TV I didn't hate this week). Well done chicka... and no I won't be calling your agent.... though mum has taped you I promise.

Have been up since 5.20am and am still awake (to my surprise) and it's nearly 10pm... think it's time to put on the extremely daggy gear and pretend to read while drooling on a pillow.

Night night!

People are strange, when you're a stranger

2006-07-15T08:53:00.000-07:00

Yes I've been quiet (it happens when you feel like hell and just being awake enough to manage to do the work required saps you of all the energy in your sad pathetic little system).

Tonight however, a strange mix of people and bizzareness means I must tell.

It's mid-winter and we've been vewy vewy quiet (guess people are off hunting ducks or rabbits) but our full little hotel would belie this fact.

Here is a quick summary of tonight's goings on:

The Boganfest - 80 or so extreme speedway bogan types with 'special' hair (bleached mohawks, barbie pink hair, mullets galore), breathtakingly ignorant and immature comments (eg when turned down for a hook up later tonight by our function supervisor, the Bogan Prince told her she was a 'frigid bitch'. Of course, her unwillingness to hook up with him had nothing to do with the fact that he was off his scone, young, dumb and obviously very full of cum could have nothing to do with it)

The Dweebfest - 40 or so very quiet geekish kinda guys who play role playing games (state championships of something very Dungeons & Dragons style... as is my complete lack of understanding). Thankfully very polite and well spoken, as a complete opposite to the bogans.

The bogans were worried we were a gay bar... because they all had pre-dinner drinks in the bar, and yes.. it was a sausage fest, no girls in sight..twats (not that they would have gotten any from any sane-ish female anyways)

The Media - there's a rally on somewhere so we have some... shall we say... slightly highly strung individuals floating around the joint.

The Athletes - a coupla teams of giraffes aka international basketball players(well they look like giraffe's for a midget of my stature). I keep looking them in the belly button (which is where normal people's heads are).

The Inbounds - a group of tiny asians slightly overwhelmed by the giant's who are twice their height.

Talk about people from all walks of life. Whichever sadist decided all these people should mesh together in the one place at the one time.... thank you... I was amused at the comings, goings and mish mash of special individuals.

One little spat between some of the Bogan crew (outside to have cigarettes, but being drunks as skunks they were not on the quiet side). They came running in to whinge to me that someone on the 5th floor had spat at them. Personally if I'd been able to hear their charming language at 10.30pm when I had a 4.45am wake up call I would have been tempted to squirt some water over them myself.

Then a call from a room on the 5th floor, poor little media boys were worried someone had told the boge's which room they were in and fearing a confrontation... insert eyeroll here.

Then the movie machines went to sleep. God knows what happened but apparently Memoirs of a Geisha was going to be popular tonight. Til we couldn't fix the system.... ho hum, stiff biccies, have to go to sleep or actually speak to the person you're staying with peoples.

Had to run out the door at this stage... was already 20 minutes late leaving as it was... decided they'd all still be (hopefully slightly less weird) there in the morning.

Alive! (barely)

2006-07-09T20:10:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not dead, just feel slightly zombie like.

Some scumbag got a cold, and very kindly donated it to me. It in turn attacked my throat (tonsilitis/pharyngitis) so now I have the scotch & cigarettes voice (which has progressed from the drag queen/barely there voice) and a smokers cough (which is unnappreciated).

Anywaysssssss I've been having weird dreams... again.

Yesterdays epic involved:

a party
a houseboat
a water front house
a mixture of friends (and random crackheads I'm sure)
dying someones hair into peacock feather patterns using kids acrylic paints (red, blue and yellow)
mixing cocktails and bleach simultaneously
an escaped lizard in the next yard that looked like a cross between a thigh high dinosaur and an avocado (even had a creamy green mouth) (NB should have mashed him into guacamole goodness dammit)
unsurprisingly not long after that it stopped making sense (like yeah, that made sense in the first place) but there was a spa involved

No wonder I keep waking up feeling utterly shattered and exhausted. Will have to settle for just being happy to wake up!!

Love those typo's

2006-06-25T19:30:00.000-07:00

I've been saving this picture, because it's highly amusing and needs to be shared. I can't stand typo's in professionally printed type stuff. Proof reading isn't THAT hard, nor is 'spell check'. I'm aware I typo in my blog but I don't care, that's me, thats just stuff pouring out of my fingertips, and editing it is not something I have an interest in. Some days it's things like this one in a very widely distributed brochure that just tickle my fancy.

And yes I know, discocunt would have been even more amusing. What a shame.

More about the (non) smelly hippies

2006-06-22T03:26:00.000-07:00

The hippies checked out today.

Their lecture (aka 'constructive' criticism) today was about apples.

We have a bowl of free apples on the front desk at most times (unless the vultures are particularly ravenous).

Smelly hippies like apples.

Apparently our apples have pesticides on it. Mr Smelly Hippy knows this how.... oh yeah, he claims to be a chemist with a super sense of smell (though admitted his naturopath told him, so yeah there goes that theory). He reckons the only thing in his diet that's changed this week is our apples, and they've left a 'metallic tang' in his mouth.

He then goes on to tell me how to remove this.... because you know... I care....

Apparently if you wash apples in a very weak solution of Hydrochloric Acid, the pesticide wipes off (if you make it too strong and burn ur intestinaley bits out so be it). Or alternatively you can wash them in Apple Cider Vinegar.

My apples are free.... for whoever wants them.... they're not signed as 'organic' 'poison free' or any bs like that. They're something for nothing... an added extra... to throw at the doctor each day to keep the fucker away.....

IF YOU DON'T WANT MY POISON FECK OFF AND STOP EATING MY APPLES.

PS I was going to post a hilariously funny typo/freudian slip but the camera has gone and grown legs and I can't find it....

PPS I don't usually rant but I'm sleep deprived and caffeine free... god I need a hit

It's bouncing off the fan

2006-06-19T07:57:00.000-07:00

Yes, I left the shit bouncing off the fan tonight (and ran off into the night to enjoy my days off), but first I must tell about the smelly hippies.

OK they didn't smell. What they DID do though was to ask for a 10 litre water type container.
Purpose: To drive halfway up Mt freaking Wellington (where it's approximately -3 degrees) to the springs to fill it with water to drink. Apparently our slightly fluoridey water isn't good enough for them and one of the drinks more water than a camel... yeah sure, I care.

No container (no we didn't look for long). Dispatched the non smelly camel flavoured hippies to the service station to buy bottled water (they didn't see our 400ml spring water bottles at $2.50 for the bargain that they obviously are).

P.S. they also refused to buy Mt Franklin water (which was on special) because it's owned by coke. They were at a Shell servo, owned by Coles Myer... still supporting nameless, faceless gigantor company with questionable environmental policies weren't they? Twats

Back to the drama... yes I know I said it was quiet and teetering on boring, no I didn't expect the world to cave in.

It's still quiet, but as I arrived the database started playing the 'lets drop out at random moments' game. Fun, yet not tragic.

Scooted out the back with Chatterbox and threw everyone out of the database to try and reboot the server... usually sorts it out right quick. Looked at the server screen... looks like the system has just done a reboot... just in case we did another full one... just in case.

15 minutes of stability later.... splat, down she goes. Along with the internet, all emails and the network.

Ronald McDonald (Mr IT) is on his way to fix it. Just as well, because I can't currently check people in, print anything.... matter of fact really DO anything other than answer the phone that's not ringing (it's just as well I had good hair, looking good was about the extent of my capabilities)

Ronald arrives, informs me he's going to reboot the server. Told him I had the server password and we'd already tried that. He goes to do it anyway. I get the accusatory "How did you reboot it?" Duh, the right way, start, turn off, reboot. "Oh, it was showing a message of, Windows was not shut down properly etc etc" By the way Ronald when we went to reboot it, it looked like it had just rebooted itself then. (ie do NOT accuse me of being a knobgobbler, especially when that knob is ungobblable).

So he reboots, and it's ok for 10 minutes.... splat.

He fiddles with stuff, it's ok for 10 minutes.... splat

Lather, rinse, repeat.

It lasts 30 minutes... he thinks he's home and hosed and buggers off.

I call him 3 minutes later to tell him to get his ass back here, I am once again useless (more than usual). "be there in 10 minutes"

An hour or two later he saunters back in (insert surprised face here that he took so long).

I'm about half way through my list of 'must do' stuff, and can't even balance my shift at this stage or at the LEAST print a report to tell me who's in the hotel and what they owe and who's responsible for paying it.

The router gets shut down... it's working hard... seems extremely dodgy, no one's using the net or sending gigantic emails, ffs there's only 3 of us using anything computer related.

We smell a virus, or a hacker knocking on our back passage (without aid of lubrication, most inconsiderate). No more emails, no more internet til Ronald tells us we can have cheeseburgers again.

Managed to get the system up briefly so BigBadBazza and I go nuts printing out the 'must have' reports at rapid speed (at least now I know my work is done) and thanking Jeebus for telling me to post all the dinner stuff earlier so at least it's done.

I sidle quietly out the door, not knowing if the accommodation will post tonight, pitying the poor morning receptionist should things not be up and working.... what a poofight that will be.

And Ronald will be manning the grill again in the morning, and dropping the fries... and... well you know.... doing things Ronald McDonald does (I hope that doesn't include molesting small children)

While the poo flings off the ceiling in the morning I'll be toddling off up the east coast to my darling uncles shack to sit quietly in the wilderness sipping red wine (or listening to loud music while pouring wine rapidly down my throat, the second being more likely).

Oh and... some guests went to Port Arthur today. The mum came down to... ask me something?... I think.... then sent the son to the other side of the foyer to tell me what happened. I'd already advised her against the nightly ghost tours (which I love but was mildly freaked out by) as she said she was very much a clucker.

They'd done the cruise out to the Isle of the Dead (such a romantic name). Aka the cemetary. While out there mum swears BLIND she could see a face. Mum checked sonny boys' camera (this is where I get the goosebumps) and she can see a face in the photo. Creepy creepy place some times.

Randomness

2006-06-18T20:15:00.000-07:00

Work has been oh so quiet.

No-one has misbehaved, done anything remotely stupid (apart from Dopey's left testicle attack), no hookers in sight, no dodgy behaviour, nothing amusing.

It gives me time to have thoughts like this:

Why don't I like to wear socks that match. They can be the same style, and can be similar in design or colour, but matching is so boring?
My car stereo - if I have the volume on any odd numbers it sounds utterly wrong.
Why are the only songs that get stuck in my head the ones I just can't bear (or sometimes a song I like but with odd lyrics)?
What IS my dog's obsession with shoes, socks, underwear (unwashed of course)? It just can't be good for his health.
As for his other obsession (other peoples empty tins and boxes)... I understand the dog food, cat food, human food containers he likes to bring home after he takes himself for walks... but the laundry detergent box really did confuse me.

I guess I should just be glad it's Friday (yes I'm aware it's Monday, but remember this is a shift worker talking, it's Friday for me coz my weekend begins at 23:30 tonight!!). Which reminds me, should go make a quick suck up call to the uncle in possession of the 'shack' I want to cool my heels at tomorrow night.

I choose to post my new bitch boots.... here

Sunday blotch (blog/bitch)

2006-06-17T10:21:00.000-07:00

Definition of Bad Form:

by Dopey the part time receptionist.
Friday: Hi, I'm too pathetic and sick to work
Saturday: At work drinking for 4 hours....
can you spell fuckwit (she is now known as the furry left testicle (depicted below)
Other thoughts for the day:
I worked with real estate boys and girls for over seven years, never (apart from the urge to belt Bryan Bracken in the head with a rock) have I felt the violent urge like I did today to attack and maul (violently) the guy who came in to the hotel today (we're selling off the hotel rooms, don't let me starting ranting about that) , but he starts using my name like he's my best friend and I've spent less than 90 seconds being (barely) civil to the fucker. Do NOT use my name in vain. Never mind the fact it means fucking nothing to no one it's MY name, fuck off. (snarl, spit, hiss)

I bought the most adorable biatch boots last night, but I'm too pissed (I poured my own knock off drink) and too lazy to take a picture tonight, so bite me and suffer in your own indignation.

Freud Inventory Test Results

Oral (dependence) 50%
Anal (self control) 26%
Phallic (sensuality) 70%
Latency (learning) 63%
Genital (productivity) 63%

Oral: you appear to have a good balance of independence and interdependence knowing when to accept help and when to do things on your own.

Anal: you appear to be overly lacking in self control and organization, and possibly have a compulsive need to defy authority. If you are too scatterbrained, you will not develop much as a person as you will habitually switch paths before you ever learn anything.

Phallic: you appear to have issues with controlling your sexual desires and possibly fidelity.

Latency: you appear to be afraid or averse to present or future real world responsibilities, this will only make your inevitable transition more difficult, so learn to deal with the real world.

Genital: you appear to have a progressive and openminded outlook on life unbeholden to regressive forces like traditional authority and convention.

Freuds theorized that there are 5 stages of psychological development. At the oral stage the main issue is dependency, at the anal stage the main issue is self control, at the phallic stage the main issue is sexual identity, at the latency stage it's skill development, and at the genital stage its creativity and productivity.

Freud theorized that psychological problems are related to problems during one or more of these stages. For example, being too cared for or too neglected causes someone to be orally fixated, too much or too little control causes someone to be anally fixated, insufficient parental role modeling causes phallic fixation.

An orally fixated person is either irrationally dependent (expects what they want to just appear) or irrationally independent (always refuses help).

An anally fixated person is either irrationally self controlled and servile to authority or has no self control and is compulsively defiant of authority.

A phallicly fixated person is either a sexual compulsive (sexually innappropriate/promiscuous) or sexually repressed.

Freud did not classify any latent fixation but I think it is as plausible as those at the other stages. I speculate that people that like to learn and acquire knowledge without any purpose or people that are compulsively non curious represent both dysfunctional ends of the latency spectrum.

The genital stage is the final Freudian developmental stage and according to Freud people don't all succeed at this. Freud believed the ideal for human happiness is to be happy in love and work, problems in one or the other cause unhappiness.

Like any personality system, Freud's developmental levels are just a theory, so, be speculative about your results.

Bah, you make up your own mind, I like making up other peoples minds.

Does that say I'm an anal loving hooker what the hell???????

Forgotten the other (insipid yet important) things I had to say and it's approaching 4am.

Night y'all

Just Random Stuff

2006-06-15T03:31:00.000-07:00

Sammy the wonderdog and his magical stick at Blue Lagoon Beach

Sammy the wonderdog in the (very cold) water among slightly smelly seaweed

Shake, rattle and roll
Buff Puff Doggy

Very authentic boat houses (so cute)
Islands that have been kayaked around (when weather was warmer)
A house I quite like to perve on

Classic Comments

2006-06-12T09:56:00.000-07:00

Nearly forgot, Tom at work came out with a pearler last night. To whip it out (of context)

"I can't get it up... (embarassed silence) at home"

Me: hysterical and falling off my chair.

Context: the website for Dracula's restaurant.... oh well, will still store if for future reference.

Updates on hookery trust fund ex-men type people

2006-06-12T08:51:00.000-07:00

OK, so today we got a comment from a guest... he'd been getting phone calls from somewhere random, most likely another room, from someone with either a very very deep female voice, or a male voice (with just a dash of femininity)... asking him "are you a dirty man? Can i come to your room for a few hours and we can be dirty together?" and such things.

I'd blame the lil asian hooker on the 5th floor, but she's pretty much feminine through and through and has never pulled a stunt like that in the month or so (in total) that she's floated round the hotel.

Which leaves LilKitty and her throaty voice...
and with it the succinct possibility that she's canvassing for business.

On the bright side.. I think she/he/it picked a good target. Single guy, travelling alone, slightly questionable poonciness... almost a safe bet!!

Stay tuned for more stories (coz god knows the one's tonight would bore your clothes off)

MORE suspicious minds, and teentards

2006-06-10T08:43:00.000-07:00

Today I got given the most beautiful flowers I've received in recent times. Something of a surprise as they came from a couple of girls staying at work. Was slightly miffed as really had done nothing extraordinarily amazing for them (apart from cracking up laughing when they asked where the Louis Vitton store was in Hobart... we're one step up from a country town... Louis Vitton does not live here).

Felt kinda guilty for having the discussion of 'where do these girls get their cash from.'

Having asked for (and received unblinkingly) $500 cash from one that we'll call LilKitty. Most 25 year olds, hell, most people I know would blink, or at least have to get money out of the hole in the wall to dish out that amount of cash when it's not expected to have to be paid out.

The two most popular theories were either Paris Hilton style trust fund babies, or they remembered to charge people for the favours.

Then came a twist... CareBear (the Duty Manager) thought that maybe, although they currently appear to be girls.... they may have started life as males... LilKitty does have quite a deep voice... a very squared off jaw (neither unforgivable sins).. Decided to investigate a little further. Cash policy at work = photo ID + cash up front if there's no credit card to play with... bingo, I had LilKitty's passport.... it was an aussie one, sex listed as F, but the killer.... born in Bangkok.. birthplace of the shemale.

I await the girls coming to see me tomorrow so I can check the Adam's Apples and hand size...

Why is it that I attract transexual hookers... I must change perfume! Doesn't mean I don't appreciate the flowers though!

Now onto the attack of the teentards!
You know when a young guest checks in (MsBitch) (with 3 of her mates) and her bag makes the dull 'clunk' of alcoholic bottle on alcoholic bottle that there could be some 'issues' that night.

Thought nothing of it until the random phone call
Knobhead (friend of MsBitch): "Hi, can you tell which room I'm calling from"
Me: "Nope, sorry, not on this phone" (very inconsiderately calling me on the phone without caller ID
Knobhead: "Well the champagnes flowing and we're having a party, will you come party with us"
Me: "Some of us have to work for a living" (he was a drunk teen, I wasn't in the mood)
Knobhead: "OK well I'll call ya later and try again" (thus confirming my call of Knobhead."

Mentioned the phone call to CareBear as someone being that obnoxious is likely also noisy, probably worth doing a quick floor check.

19:26
Carebear: "Can you please note Rm 425 and the time, they've just had their first warning, they're our bandits, 90% sure"
Me: "Done... they gonna be trouble?"
Carebear: "Nah, they say they're going out, will recheck in an hour."

20:43
Carebear: "Can you please note Rm 425 and time again, they're on final warning... say they're going out, will be checking again in a few minutes"

20:44
Music in the G room across the foyer goes out, the engagement party going on downstairs are about to make the boring speeches

20:45
Hell breaks loose as every fire alarm in the hotel goes insane. My phone rings incessantly with people asking if they need to evacuate... I consider telling them to light a match and pray to Allah coz the flames from hell have arrived... but can't finish the thought coz of the bells, the bells, the bloody bells.
Poor CareBear is in charge of the hotel... BigBoss is off in Melbourne on days off, Boss2 is in Launceston getting loved up, Gossipy the Front office manager has rolled off to Burnie for the long weekend... the last words said to CareBear were 'just don't burn the place down'.... ironic..

CareBear has done a speedy run down four flights of stairs to check the fire panel, and scooted back up to bloody 425 (as that's the fire alarm that was lit up on the panel) and they've run off... door open, booze everywhere, belongings scattered). No fire, someone's (most likely) held a lighter up to the alarm then run like hell to get out of the hotel.

So the 150 people downstairs have shuffled out half naked into the freezing cold (the bright sparks at the engagement party are having their photo's taken in front of the fire engine... I was too busy looking for the hot one... to no avail).

Mr Fireypants gives the all clear and we all hoon back in to the warmth.... until we realise there's smokin in the restaurant... bloody fire alarms shut off all the exhaust fans so all the smoke from the wood-fired pizza oven is just waffling through the first floor. Someone whinges, we ignore him.. busy plotting against miscreants.

Starting with a preauthorised charge of $500 against lil MsBitch's credit card... no way the hotel will be paying the bill for that false alarm and we start plotting.

The end plan is very simple. Play it cool, play it calm, write it all up BUT note on MsBitch, Knobhead & co's room that the Manager on Duty ONLY has authority to check them out.. and explain that actions (no matter how idiotic) have consequences... unless of course they come back to the hotel rowdy rambunctious and full of piss in which case they'll be out on their asses at the first peep.

People.... weird animals huh.

Best Freebie EVER!

2006-06-09T19:26:00.000-07:00

This is what I woke up to on Wednesday morning. After a lovely warm night of -2c (enough to freeze the nipples off any real person) the entire neighbourhood was covered in frost. This is NOT at 6am, or 7am but 9am... truly scary. As were the 16 car accidents that ensued (funniest one being the person that rammed the stationary police car with his lights on and the message thingy on the roof flashing 'slow down, slow down')

So of course being sensible people we cashed in a freebie and nicked off on a cruise.... well at least we had a day off together and it was still and not a cloud in the sky!

Piccies will ensue (OK, they'll take over now) but they really do speak for themselves, what a beautiful place to live and what a great freebie for me!! Gotta appreciate it when you get something for nothing that every other bugger has forked out $100 plus each to do.

Floaters (Comments, beer, cocoa pops and Vodka Chronicles)

2006-06-05T11:50:00.000-07:00

There are times in our lives, when our actions seem insignificant... yet they just keep on coming up... just like a damn floater in the toilet they just don't go away.

I have several of them.

The First Floater

The Precocious Hospitality Brat. I spent my younger years trailing about the country with my parents who managed hotels. Accustomed as I was to restaurants I still had my moments (hey I was all of six at this stage). My best effort was two lines in one night... two lines I hear about often (when the fossils tongues are loosened by liquor).

"Where's the tartare sauce?" when my fish was dished up. So I liked tartare sauce and usually my fish came with it... oh well.

Followed by an order of Strawberry Mousse (which mum was adamant I wouldn't like... and she was right, it was rancid) but the manager of the hotel (who they were possibly trying to impress?) asked what I thought of it, and I came out with "it tastes like pink chunky dogfood." I still stand by that comment.. It was rank... but they're quotes that float.

Floater Two
Schoolies week (for those who don't know it's a time of drinking and debauchery and shameless late teenage shennanigans once high school is over).
After a heavy night of drinking (and snogging god only knows who.... well.... hopefully just snogging) I needed some breakfast.
I found the Cocoa Pops hidden behind a few slabs of beer. No milk... Don't know about you but when you have dry horrors you just don't make enough saliva to down dry breakfast cereal.... it's not possible.
Fossicking through the fridge I realised my alternatives were very limited.. a trip to the corner shop maybe? Nahhhhhhhhhh just not up to that one.
To the horror of the girls I opened the fridge, cracked a beer and poured it over chocolate flavoured rice bubbles.. and proceeded to eat it.
Thus began the urban legend of "Cocoa Pops with beer".

The Turd Floater (aka the Vodka Chronicles)
I rightly deserve this one. The girls and I were (once) frequent clubbers with early forays into Surfers "Paradise" to make the most of cheap drinks, then dance our booties off while the local Sea FM dj's took the piss out of us and gave us possibly more free stuff than we deserved... we were regulars, we expected it.

On several occasions... under specific conditions my legs would shoot out from under me. ONLY when partying with Maddcat, Sexbomb and Sexbomb junior (her little sister)...

The first time... we had tickets to a nightclub birthday celebration that Sexbomb had managed to win on the radio. Two free Bacardi Breezes on arrival... followed by several hours of complimentary beer, wine and champagne. Having coined all four of us some champagne, they ditched them and moved straight to Vino... I... hating to see any alcohol laid to wasted proceeded to finish all the champagne, and downed several more grape based beverages in quick succession (gotta make the most of the free stuff).

They very kindly still ran $2 drinks til midnight... just what I needed... Vodka to top me up (and/or tip me over the edge).

Oh did I leap over that edge. I somehow managed to enter a 'dance off' (thus proving I was drunk, no way in hell would I do that sober, I would have run to the bar for refills on purpose as my limbs would freeze at the very mention).

Also managed to win said dance off and a $50 drink card.... oh the glory... more free alcohol. Two rounds of shots later (plus two drinks in payment to the guys that the team had enlisted to cheer on my behalf once they realised free booze was on the line) all was cruising along smoothly.

The team then started to back out on me and headed for home. Feeling bulletproof (yes I was that drunk) I was talking to random individuals and was possibly approaching outta control... oh well. Several hours later (I think) I had somehow managed to dance with 'card shirt guy' (he was wearing a shirt with diamonds, clubs spades hearts on it) who Sexbomb junior had been lusting over most of the night... and some other random interlude which has now faded from my slightly retarded memory, I came to the conclusion I had been deserted and must now stagger to the hole in the wall to beg it for the money to take my very drunk self home. Wandering past "The Drink" I failed to notice a slight crack in the footpath.. and disaster struck. Left ankle went left, body went right, and not only managed to twist the ankle but also landed extremely awkwardly directly on top of it. Concrete is unforgiving.

Over comes 'Grey Shirt', the guy we'd had a fleeting lust over much much earlier at the start of the night, a true honey. He helped my (approaching teary but very wasted) ass up. With an admonition of 'maybe you should go home' well DUH that's what I was trying to do when my ankle decided to take a nap. Though to his credit he did help a very drunk woman up and was quite kind about it.

You know it's bad when you can barely walk and you'r in this state and instantly start to sober and feel pain (and whinge to the man when you get home that it hurts... whinge so much he breaks out the frozen peas, but DOES have the decency to be horrified when he awakes properly later that morning)

Made it home that night. Got up the next morning and looked at my leg in horror. I've sprained ankles before (it's a family thing) but my leg resembled that of a cabbage patch doll.
My toes looked like fat little goobers popping off the bottom of an extremely fat black and purple foot complete with a huge lump on the side of my ankle and charming bruises leading up both the inside and outside of my leg (yes all the way up to my knee).

Having galliantly made my own way to the doctor (just to see) I ended up off work for several weeks, on crutches for several more (much to my disdain) but mostly just laughing my head off at my own stupidity with my girls.

Another week (month or year) the same team was back in action... it was girls night. We even went to the extent of making the most of Sexbomb's connections, and booked a hotel room for the night. Straight from work we decended on the hotel and made short work of some vodka warmups. Not really thinking of it at the time but didn't bother to eat, and added some "V" to the vodka to ensure vitality.

Why... I'll never know... but Surfers Hell was rather quiet that night. Possibly it was too early for the kiddies to have surfaced? We trailed around a few assorted nasty clubs, and were heading back to earlier haunts due to lack of eye candy... Sexbomb discovered $20 (the cow) deserted and floating on yet another deserted dance floor... more vodka was drunk (I think). Wandering on the next club and rubbernecking at male eye candy (well it was there) the ankle decided it was time to party.... and went left, very nearly throwing me head first into the wall of the Prada shop. Shit... very unimpressed.

The team accompanied me back to the hotel (much to my chagrin) and ordered room service (and a bucket of ice for my offending foot). Other amusing moment of the night was this... Maddcat dissappearing into the cupboard to have some quiet/privacy/hide from the room service guy coz there were only meant to be two of us in the room... for nearly an hour.

I'm sure there was another vodka/ankle incident... but I honestly can't recall it (must have been only a minor strain)

Like I said... I deserve this one, hehehehehe. Safe bet it returns and is relived on my birthday in January (yes the dreaded dirty thirty.... which really only reaffirms my age, the rest is history)

Unfortunate Slobbery

2006-06-02T18:48:00.000-07:00

Anyone who know's me also know's I believe in Murphy, because they know full well Murphy torments me.

Case in point:

Getting dressed for work yesterday... threw on a standard work flavoured ensemble with a lacy singlet under (to stop frozen kidneys from dropping onto the floor). I'd only recently exited the shower so didn't worry about putting a jumper on over the top (for the first time in 2 weeks).

Made a couple of stop off's on the way... had to do the bank/post office thing, so decided to grab a souvlaki while I was at it. Cruising along, not a care in the world til I looked down and realized I had great gobules of white yoghurty, garliccy sauce dribbling down my shirt.... really, it did resemble a... less than fortunate encounter.

I'm halfway between work and home now.... with white chunky goop running down my shirt... it's just not a good look (I feel like a hooker who took a hummer job on the way out the door).

I just know if I'd worn a jumper I wouldn't have dropped anything!

Can't get home and change.... must go to plan B.

Sneak into the back office at work (with my handbag hiding my adorable stain) while trying not to laugh hysterically at myself) but give in and tell my Front Office Manager (FOM) what happened. She of course does the obvious and nearly wets herself laughing (as expected). I grab my black jacket and do a runner for the staff loo's.

The lacy singlet under the buttoned up black jacket will do just fine (and actually gets compliments... go figure).

Then my story comes back to me from four different people (vaguely forgot that FOM is just a wee bit of a storyteller).

Then her hubby comes past (as he's been at the bar.... those damn friday arvo barflies.... they only bother me when I have to work and they're having fun!) and I get hit with the comment...
'I've asked J at the bar to put the heating up to 40 so I don't miss the next strip.'

Jeebus... you rock up at work with one suspicious stain and become famous..... go figure.

Suspicious minds

2006-06-01T08:58:00.000-07:00

It's not unheard of that people answer the door to take delivery of room service in a state approaching naked, not really something we really take notice of... unless what's seen is something 'extraordinary'.... be it a good thing... or a horrid horrid image burned onto the back of your retina (my earliest memory of it being a 40 stone german feral man with moonglow white skin, black curly body hair like a gorilla and stained y-front's opening his room door when I was 13... obviously the last delivery I made for quite some time).

Last night however someone at work took notice. My favourite porter (we'll name him... Tom) came down to reception last night with the drool pooling in the corner of his mouth, jaw open wide and boy was he willing to offer his services.

It seems the 'lady' (yes I use that word loosely) in 203 had ordered a little something via room service. When asked how long it would take Tom answered (in his usual cheeky manner) 'long enough to have a shower.'

Seems she took him literally, and 15 or so minutes later answered the door in panties and something approximating a baby doll dress swinging just below the waist.

Which is when he made the comment to me of 'anything 203 needs, I'm her man' (never mind his partner... kids etc. The poor man was taken aback and the lower brain was well in control.

I went on dinner break and was relieved by BadBoy the Duty Manager. He has evil tendencies (we get on fantastically) and I had to reign him in from paging Tom and asking him to take 203 more towels (not sure why I did.... maybe because last week BadBoy told Tom he had to return a call to a lady... who was a hooker... just coz BadBoy was bored).

A coupla hours later Tom's doing his floor check (wandering about to make sure the hotel's looking it's sleepy best and all the peoples about are behaving) but he has another 3 floors to do. Being curious buggers we check to see whether he's been past 203 yet.... 'No'

We're timing him to make sure he doesn't get lost up there.

Five (acceptable) minutes later he comes down with quite a downcast look... like a kid who's dropped the lollipop.

203 (aka Babydoll) was in the shower.... again (yes he'd listened at the door)....

Why would a woman shower several times in 2 hours.... a good looking woman....

Further investigation required (me looking up her invoicing). She's local.... been here a few days... and paying cash.

Now I'm not saying everyone who pays cash in a hotel is a hooker, but this is how the logic goes (and it's been proven on several occasions).

People who pay cash are of two types... the anti-credit-card brigade (the terrible spendaholics.. me me me me me me.... and the ones who are just hiding something).

BB is a fine example... he's a uni student, who stays i a suite for several weeks at a time yet always pays in lumps of cash and is always seen with different men... uni student my ass (well his ass really, so it's his prerogative to sell it I guess)

Asia is another one... comes for 2 weeks (or should that be cums).. always pays in cash (and housekeeping watched 11 men come and go from her room one day before we kicked her to the curb (BB is more subtle).

Unfortunately for Tom Babydoll was a cash paye... and local... .ding ding ding, we have a winner.

He's looking for it and she's selling it, hehehehe.

I know it's mean to dash hopes like that but oh how I laughed.

Things that go 'buzz' in the night

2006-06-01T08:33:00.000-07:00

OK so it's an unoriginal way to start, but this was a popular story (back in the olden days of yesterday or the day before) but due to popular demand this story starts..... here

I only found this story out because someone rang work looking for lost property.

Then proceeded to go burko at me for not ringing him to say 'hey you twat you left your unnatractive jacket in the room you vacated an hour ago."

I asked the porter to look for said jacket.... to no avail.

Duty manager asked if I was worried about it... to which I replied 'hell no, but I'd much rather someone rang in to collect the vibrator that got left behind in November.... I've been waiting for MONTHS for that thing to be collected" (even tho 90% of crud left behind is left behind).

Then 'K' the duty manager dropped a great story..... which goes like this...

Some cheapskate guy wanted to impress his girlfriend, (this takes place before my time, in the time of crap front desk peoples, but never mind that) and he wanted to put food and stuff up in the room... so they let him.... but he didn't come back/register as expected. Hotel was busy, his room was sold on.... the people who took it rang down to ask 'wtf is food doing up here' like good (disorganised wanker type) people apparently the food was whipped outta the room.

Mr Impressive rocks up some time later... checks into (another) room.... comes down to reception with most quizzical confused face.... "where's the food"

"Well sir you didn't register by 6pm so your room was sold and the food is out the back in the kitchen... would you like it brought up to this room"

Mr Impressive: (blushing) "Well no, that's not the big deal... the worry is more... who's in that room... coz I brought a gift for my girlfriend and it's still up there...... it's a vibrator."

oh dear....

We've sold the room... to a family of 3... and there's a new vibe snuggled between the mattress and the base.... don't know about you but that's PLATINUM stuff (too good to be gold).

Poor K has to find a reason to get into this room... feel around under the bed... and sneak out a (new and yes packaged still) vibrator.... without the guests knowing wtf is going on...

She stumbles upstairs, red faced and carrying towels on the pretence they needed fresh ones....

And dammit was rewarded with a room with no guests (the buggers had gone out)

but ohhhhhhhhh what a rush.

Gotta love hotels!!!