You dirty thieves.

I got to work about ten minutes ago, to find B1 sad and angry in his office. He went on to explain the reason for his mood.

Basically, someone stole one of the work trucks from his B2’s driveway last night. This is eight weeks after B1’s ute was stolen from HIS house. I swear to god, if someone touches my car, I will kick some bitches. HARD. In the privates.

The people that stole B2’s ute last night smashed the window to get in, then smashed the steering column so they could hotwire it, which they obviously succeeded in doing as the ute was found in NSW (which is a totally different State, people). Whoever stole the ute tried to drive it up a rock wall, so they must be highly intelligent people.

They also tried to torch it, but only managed to burn the seats, so the police think there is a good chance that they will be able to recover some fingerprints. Those assholes are going down.

It’s very subdued here today, for obvious reasons.

B1 only JUST got his ute back from when it was stolen, so another ute being stolen seems to be too much for them. I imagine they’d also be feeling quite unsafe in their homes now.

As I mentioned earlier, B1’s ute was stolen from his home. They broke into his house while everyone was asleep, managed to get a hold of his car keys and off they went. It’s lucky that no one got hurt, but it’s still an infuriating situation.

So I’m just going to blend into the wall today to avoid any angry bosses.

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I just stumbled upon this website, where five year old Aidan Reed is selling his drawings of monsters to raise enough money to pay for his medical bills. I just ordered two of them, and you should too. You can get to AidansMonster’s shop here and for more information about the cause and to follow Aidan’s story, visit the blog  here.

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HOLLA! It’s Thursday, bitches.

"I'm a big believer in The Secret"

This conversation happened yesterday at college. I only go once a month, but it still manages to completely drain me of any and all hope. This was with a girl that started yesterday. Guess who got to be her buddy? We had to pair up and practice asking each other open ended questions.

Her: Uhm okay so I have to ask you some open ended questions.

Me: Yes.

H: Okay...*giggles* This is hard.

M: *smiles and nods*

H: You have beautiful hair.

M: Oh. Uhm thanks.

H: Is it real? *points to the ends*

M: Yes.

H: Oh, I was just wondering. Because I’ve been trying to grow my hair for ages, but it’s really hard.

M: Oh. Dang.

H: Yeah. Hey I really like your top. It’s beautiful.

M: Thanks.

H: Yup. Real beautiful. *pauses* So what’s your middle name?

M: Rae.

H: Really?! Omg, that’s so unusual. But such a beautiful name. Like, seriously beautiful. Wow. Yeah, so unusual and beautiful.

M: Uh, yeah.

H: Hey look! My daughter wrote an open ended question. *giggles and points to a scribble on her page*

M: *pretends not to have heard* So, uh. Open ended questions?

H: Oh yeah. Gosh, this is hard. Uhm.

M: Ahuh. How about I ask you some?

H: Okay! I still can’t get over your middle name. *writes it in her book*

M: It’s spelt R A E.

H: Oh! Wow. That’s even more beautiful.

M: Uhm, yeah. So, tell me about your job.

H: *launches into a disgustingly boring story, with words like “amazing”, “spectacular”, “positive energy” and “meant to be”*

M: Oh, look, time’s up.

By my calculations, that equates to five months of my life wasted. She drained me of that much life, it’ll end up taking five months off the end of my life. Great. Thanks lady!

It's possible I will die alone, surrounded by dogs.

Today is a very special day. On this day last year, my little baby dog was pushed out of his mum’s vagina and fell into the world as a ball of goo and fur. It’s a nice picture isn’t it?

So because of the momentous occasion that was his birth, Monty is spending the day with me at work. I love it when he comes into work with me. He barks at the boys, and gives me an excuse to go for walks outside so he can go to the toilet. It’s always a cruisy day when Monty is in the office.

As soon as we got to work this morning, I gave Monty one of his presents to unwrap. I only brought three with me, as I want to give him most of them at his party on Sunday (yes, I’m having a party for my dog, shut your face). He started ripping into it and when he got a good hold on the toy inside, dragged it out and started flinging it around.

Donkey is already dirty as all hell. He’s such a whore.

Then I gave Monty his brand new collar. It’s black, shiny, has a bell (you know, so he can’t pounce on any birds) and says Macho in diamante letters. I think it suits him perfectly, as he’s quite manly. He runs around with flowers in his mouth, and his favourite toy is a pink bone with love hearts all over it. See how much of a man he is?

Now I’ll always know where he is by the jingle of his bell. How handy. Also, his last collar was fucking ugly. It was mustard yellow with stupid silver bones on it. Now he’s a pimp, just like his mother.

The last present he got for the day was from Ally. He chewed on that one for ages, ripping at the paper like a demon, and then chewing on the blanket that was inside. I had to take it off him so he didn’t destroy the lovely blanket Ally bought with her hard earned money from working the streets. Uh, I mean selling giftwares.

It’s on his little bed now, and he’s finally realised it’s not a toy, so he’s having a nap on it. It’s been a big day for Monty. You know, barking at people, sleeping in the car, running around with a donkey in your mouth, peeing on things and ripping paper really take it out of you. And it is 8.30am, so it’s definitely time for a sleep.

I should take him for a walk soon to give me something to do.

Is this fiction?

I hate you so much. So very much.

Do you know why? Because you make feelings that I had long ago buried and forgotten about, come back up to the surface. They burst and I am suddenly a different person. I’m no longer cold and calculated. I’m not able to walk away with a shrug of my shoulders, having resigned myself to the fact that I am alone, and will be alone for a long time to come, therefore knowing nothing can come of this.

It’s my fault, I know. I should keep this in check. But there is something about you that makes me do the opposite of what I know is right. I obsess about little things you may have said or done, things you may have written about, and scramble around hopelessly in an attempt to uncover some secret longing for me you may have.

You make me act like a fucking girl, and I hate it. I like to be in control. I like to make others sweat it out, make them obsess over how I feel about them. I like being indifferent. Oh he doesn’t like me? No big deal, I don’t need him. Now it’s as if I will explode if I don’t get what I want.

It may not even be you. It may be an accumulation of suppressed feelings and frustrations finally becoming too much and being unleashed on the next appropriate person.

The last time I saw you was when I knew I couldn’t kid myself about this any more. It was too real.

I never used to feel this way about you. It was always friendship and nothing else. But lately I have been having doubts about friendship being all I want from you. I can’t tell you this, which makes me hate you more. If I tell you this, I know I will ruin everything. You won’t know how to let me down, and will feel awkward for a long while. Our friendship will be over until we both get over the situation. I don’t want that.

I don’t want to keep this to myself though.

Give me a few weeks and I’ll be back to normal. I just need to make it that long.

I need to pee, but I must blog first.

Yesterday was Ally’s 21st birthday. It was all very exciting and a lot of exclamation points were flying around in text messages and on Facebook and Twitter.

I was invited to her place for dinner, so at 6pm last night, I drove the half hour to her place. When I got there I knocked on the door, and her mum yelled out for me to come in. I could hear her and Ally in the kitchen, where Ally was saying she shouldn’t just yell for people to come in without checking to see who it was first. Her mum said she knew it was me from my knock, so there was no point checking. Great, I have a predictable knock.

Once I had said my hellos, I reached into my big bag of presents and started handing them to Ally. The first present was a bottle of champagne which she doesn’t really drink, but as it was her 21^st I deemed it appropriate. After unveiling that, I handed her the next two presents. She fumbled around with the wrapping on the first one, and opened it to find two cupcake candles. One had little wax cherries on top, and the other was just white icing. The other package I’d handed her was a couple of small glass plates for the candles to sit on.

After numerous exclamations about how cute they were, and how there was no way they were going to be lit, I gave her the next present. This one was definitely my favourite, and was decided upon after reading Ally’s text messages and tweets and being appalled at her spelling. It was a dictionary. She laughed when she saw what it was, but it was a for realsies present. Kinda.

I’d written on the inside cover of the dictionary, but I can’t quite remember what I said. It was something along the lines of, “Next time you tweet or text me, crack this baby open. He’s a helpful little shit”. Oh, and I named him, but now I can’t remember what. Dang.

After her mum had had a look over the dictionary and the message on the inside and giggled a bit, I handed Ally the next present. It was a glass candle holder and a lavender candle. She seemed to like them.

Then it was time for her last present. This was the present that I had dropped a few hints about and Ally couldn’t figure out what it was, and was also a bit scared about what it might be. My hints weren't exactly helpful. The first one was something like, “I just realised one of your presents might try to kill you. I will not be held responsible if it comes after you in the middle of the night and grinds you into ice cream.”

The next was that it wasn’t a rapist in a box.

I don’t understand how she couldn’t have guessed what it was from those amazing hints, but whatever.

It was a “BFF” Momiji doll from the UK. She’s really cute and kinda heavy, and on her package it says that she loves pistachio ice cream. I call Ally “Pistachio”, so that’s where the killing and making into ice cream thing came from. On the bottom of the doll is a little hole (lulz) where you can put a secret message.

Anyway, I had written something lovey dovey on it, and stuck it back inside her so that Ally could read it when I gave it to her. I’m quite sure that Ally liked her little BFF doll.
So the presents were a success! Hoorah!

After all the presents were inspected carefully by Ally, we went out the back so I could have a smoke and pat her pretty little dog, Jed. After chatting away about her day and what she’d done and rah rah, a dog in one of the adjoining properties started going crazy and barking at a tree. Its owners came out with torches, and started looking at the tree.

This was when Ally reminded me about the over 6 foot carpet python that was living in a few people’s backyards, including hers so it was probably the snake that the dog was barking at. It was really exciting, because the snake totally could have eaten the neighbour’s dog (it would have been horrible, but you know, exciting).

After that, we went inside for dinner. It was some chicken carbonara dish...I think. Anyway, it was yummy. As everyone was dishing their dinner up, Ally’s sister decided she wanted a bottle of red wine, and it happened to be corked. She attempted to open it, couldn’t and passed it to her mum. SHE attempted to open it, couldn’t, and passed it to her husband. He sat there working away on it for some ridiculous time before he finally got the cork out. It was broken though, and half the cork was still in the bottle, so there was another struggle to get that out.

It was pretty dang amusing. I pretty much just sat there the whole time giggling. Because I’m helpful like that. Yup.

After dinner, it was time for CAKE. Yeah, cake! Ally and I lit the candles, and we all sang Happy Birthday to her, while she tried not to smile and FAILED. She blew out all of the candles but one, then went back to get that last little fucker. Once they were all blown out, we turned the lights back on so we could get photos of her cutting the cake.

For some stupid reason, Ally wanted a photo of me and her next to the cake. Uh, I hate photos. It was okay though, because her mum was saying funny things WHICH I NOW CAN’T REMEMBER. Curse my horrible memory.

Whatevz. We ate cake and hung around at the table for a while, talking shit and berating each other. Her family have some odd choice of conversation topics, but what the hey, it made for an amusing night.

I was feeling pretty sleepy from all of the food we’d eaten, so as soon as her family starting getting up from the table, I hit the road. The drive home was boring as usual, but I was blasting the Labyrinth soundtrack, so I entertained myself by singing along. I got some concerned looks from other drivers, but I'm pretty sure they were just jealous that they weren't as cool as me.

You know, because I'm pretty great.

Spiders! Everywhere!

I seem to suffer from night terrors. Google says this is what a night terror is, for those that are unaware:

A night terror, also known as a sleep terror or pavor nocturnus, is a parasomnia disorder characterized by extreme terror and a temporary inability to regain full consciousness. The subject wakes abruptly from slow-wave sleep, with waking usually accompanied by gasping, moaning, or screaming.

This has happened a few times, the most recent occurrence being last Sunday night.

I woke up from a dream that I can’t remember, and my bed was covered in spiders. There was a thick blanket of the fuckers, and I panicked. I vaguely remember screaming, and then I bolted out of my room to the dining room, where I sat on the ground shaking uncontrollably and attempting to regain my composure. Monty followed and crawled up onto my lap to go back to sleep.

Then Jeremy’s light came on in his room (which is right next to the dining room) and he came out, sighing and asking what had happened. I don’t recall much, but I’m certain I just said that spiders were on my bed, over and over until he went in to check. He came back out, helped me up off the floor and informed me that there were no spiders anywhere, and that the house had been sprayed so there was no way they could have been in the house at all.

By this time I was breathing normally again, so I thanked him, picked Monty up and went back to bed. The next morning I asked Jeremy how he knew I was in the dining room. He said that he heard a lot of screaming and gasping and knew I was having another little episode. I’m well known around these parts.

A few months ago, I started to have frequent nightmares and night terrors. One time as I woke up, I saw a white orb swirling around the door in my bedroom. I stayed still, silently freaking out, and watched it as it hung around. After thirty seconds or so, it started moving rapidly and then lunged at me. At this point I got the fuck out of bed and ran for the lightswitch, because I knew if I turned the light on, I’d be okay.

As soon as the light was on, the orb vanished. Monty was still sleeping peacefully so I knew it had been another night terror.

A few nights after that, I woke up as suddenly as the other times to see a black shadow standing at the end of my bed. It looked like a man, just staring at me sleeping, but I didn’t know if he was real or not. My solution? I picked Monty up and threw him towards the end of the bed where the shadow was so he could protect me. He curled up and went back to sleep, so I ran for the lightswitch again, by which time the shadow had vanished.

The shadow incident happened a few more times after that, each on different nights, and each time it felt like my heart would burst out of my chest because of how fast it was beating in my terror.

Every time I have a night terror, it’s the same feeling of absolute horror. You know something is wrong, but you don’t know what to do about it or if what you are seeing is real. It certainly FEELS real, and you can see it right there in front of you. Supposedly, you’re still in a dream state, and most people who have night terrors aren’t able to move. I’m different in that respect though, as I can get up and run whenever I have one.

I’ve had numerous other experiences with night terrors, too many to count, so it’s kind of an accepted thing. It’s still a horrid experience, but I guess it makes for a good story the next day.

When I was fourteen or fifteen, I was living under our two storey house in a bedroom my mum had built specially for me so I could have my own room, and get away from my brothers. I loved that room. It was massive, and the walls were painted a deep red. There was a pole in the middle of the room which I covered in band stickers, and would run into frequently. It was also great because it had no windows, which meant my room was pitch black at all times of the day. It was great for hangovers or naps during the day.

The only downside was that the lock didn’t work properly. All someone had to do was jiggle the doorknob and it would unlock itself. I wasn’t too worried about anyone getting in, but I wasn’t exactly comfortable with the situation as my room was in the garage, which was easily accessible by the laundry door that was never closed so the dogs could come and go.

One night, I woke up abruptly to see a shadow at the end of my bed, much like the one I described earlier. It was definitely a man, and he was just standing there watching me, but as it was pitch black, I couldn’t see much. I pretended I was asleep, and after a few minutes I heard soft footsteps on the carpet and then the sound of the door closing.

I was shaken, but went back to sleep as I figured whoever it was wouldn’t come back, and there wasn’t much I could do about it anyway. I found it odd that if that really was a person, they had gotten past the dogs without them barking up a storm. I couldn’t think of any other explanation for it though. The next morning I told my family what had happened, and mum freaked out. She immediately installed a bolt lock onto my door so I could lock it properly. I put it at the back of my mind and a few days later my older brother showed me a newspaper article he had found. It was about a man who had been breaking into houses, sneaking into girls’ bedrooms and watching them sleep. He had been arrested.

To this day, I still don’t know if that was another night terror, or if it was the man in the newspaper. Either way, it was a pretty shitty experience.

I could go on to tell you about other times I’ve had night terrors, but this post is already longer than I thought it would be, so I shan’t bore you any longer.

I'm going to google the shit out sleep disorders now.

What's my name?

For once, I actually had a pretty good weekend. And I got out of the house!

Saturday morning started off slowly. Ma made me breakfast and then I baked some biscuits for Holly and puttered around doing housework for a while. Since Ma and Gabriel were in their house cleaning frenzy, I decided to take Monty for a walk.

It has been stupidly windy around these parts for the last few days, and there has been non-stop rain which means that there has been a bit of flooding in my hood, so I knew I'd get dirty. I’ll be honest; I don’t walk Monty very often because I’m a lazy whore so he was pretty damn excited to be off on an adventure. There were branches strewn across the footpaths and puddles all up in my face, so we were a tad slow moving.

About ten minutes into our walk we encountered a bush turkey who was all “what’s up” to Monty and Monty was all “not much, man” and then the turkey ran away because I called it a slut. We continued along until we got down to the river, where you could see where it had risen to as all the grass was flattened and the pavement was cracked.

I love it when it floods so I was all excited; skipping around and taking pictures on my mobile while Monty looked at me like I was retarded. There’s a little sand island I usually cross the river to get to, but the water was head high and flowing rapidly so I didn’t even attempt to get over there, which sucked, because I like sitting there while Monty plays in the water and tries to catch lizards in the grass. Have you ever seen a dog try to catch lizards? It’s so cute when they stick their heads in the grass and stand still and then pounce around for a while.

As we were making our way home, we got swooped by some asshole birds (when I say ‘we’, I mean me), so I was starting to get irritated. My older brother showed up with his puppy Fynn, so Monty ran off to prance with him. After lunch, I had my customary nanna nap so that I would be lovely and refreshed when I went to the Coast later in the afternoon.

Unfortunately, that was when mum decided she was going to mow the lawn, so she was going up and down the front yard, which just so happens to be outside my bedroom window. I swear she did it on purpose. So I didn’t get much of a nap, and had a headache when I got up.

Just as I was going outside to have a smoke, my older brother (Chris) rocked up again and asked me if I wanted to go on a walk with him, his girlfriend (Yoland), and Monty & Fynn. I agreed, since I had nothing else to do and off we went again. This time we went down to a different part of the river, where there is a dirt path running along the side of it and it leads to a suspension bridge near the old Koala sanctuary.

The river was still higher than normal, and the path had been washed away in a lot of places so we had to wade through pools of water and stretches of mud so I ended up leaving my shoes on the path and continuing on barefoot. Chris kept saying we should go back, but Yoland and I soldiered on, because we’re tough bitches like that, so he had to as well. Fynn kept running into the water and scaring the shit out of everyone when he got too close to the currents, so we wandered back home.

On the way back, we passed an almighty stench and naturally Chris went to investigate. He found a massive fish, way up above us on the slope that had obviously been swept up there in the floods and wasn’t able to get back to the river. Poor little guy. Chris poked him with a stick for a while and then we continued on.

When we got home, Chris, Yoland and Fynn went back to their place and I got ready to drive to the Coast. I was pretty excited about going up there, because I was to meet one of my twitter friends. I know what you’re thinking: What if she is some crazy ass bitch, and locks you in a cupboard and makes you touch her inappropriately? Well I was pretty sure I’d be the craziest one in the meeting, so I could beat her crazy off easily. Heh heh beat her crazy off.

Anyhoo, I set my GPS to the Coast so David Hasselhoff’s voice could guide me, and set off. I went to an old family friend’s (Kath) place first so I could meet her new puppy and because Holly wasn’t home yet.

I had a good catch up session with Carol and her family while I waited for Holly to get home, and got to meet their gorgeous little puppy, Vala.

Isn’t she cute?

After that I headed off to Holly’s place and it wasn’t anywhere near as awkward as I thought it would be. She was stupidly easy to get along with, so we had dinner, chatted away for a few hours, watched Most Haunted, laughed a lot and I even got hit on by her dog a few times. After that I went back to Kath’s to stay the night.

The next morning at Kath’s, her parents came over and brought her nanna with them. Her poor nanna is 93 and has dementia. I’ve never been around someone with dementia before so I had no idea how to act, or what to expect. Her nanna kept asking me what her name was, and was calling Kath’s kids the wrong names. She seemed to be happy enough, but it was still horrid to see what the disease had done to her.

The kids somehow coaxed her into taking her false teeth out, so everyone had a chuckle and the kids seemed suitably horrified. After they all went home, Kath and I went shopping, where I bought Monty seven million toys for his birthday, and some more gifts for Ally’s birthday (NO I’M NOT TELLING YOU WHAT I GOT YOU). After lunch, I drove the hour or so home, and had a much deserved nap.

I thought I'd have a shitty weekend, but it ended up being pretty dang awesome. There were no unicorns or double rainbows, but I enjoyed it all the same.

Woo haircuts.

I had to see the ex housemate yesterday. I’d arranged for my old neighbour to collect my mail so that I could pick it up from her and not have to see the wankstaff that kicked me out, but she got home just as I got there, so I was forced to hand her my keys in person instead of leaving them in the letterbox like I’d planned. I’d like to say I kicked her in vagina, stole her wallet and skipped away, but that would be a lie.

I strode up to her, handed her the keys and walked off. She said thanks and started fucking around in the doorway. I didn’t know why she wanted to hang around but ignored her anyway.

I went next door to pick my mail up from the garage, and started walking back to my car when HM came out again and handed me the tablecloth I’d forgotten in my hasty move the weekend before. I said nothing to her, and she was trying her best to keep her bitchy face in place, but it was slipping as I walked away again.

I then drove down to the post office to hand in my mail redirection forms. I only have to go back to HM’s once more to collect mail before the redirection kicks in and then I never have to see her assholey face again.

After the post office I walked to the hairdressers to get my fringe trimmed, as I’ve been having trouble seeing thanks to the wall of hair in my eyes. This hairdresser is at the end of the street where I lived with HM, so both of us went there regularly. When I walked in, Rachel, the hairdresser started yapping away. She asked how I was, and if I liked HM’s new haircut. I stayed pleasant, and said that I did like her hair and rah rah rah. Then Rachel started going on about some guy that was getting his hair cut at the same time as HM, and how HM seemed to take a liking to him.

Apparently, when HM left the hairdressers, she texted Rachel saying “Who was that guy? He was cute.” Rachel started laughing and went on to tell me that the guy was taken, and HM was obviously “on the prowl”. I kept my laughter inside as best as I could, because I sure do love hearing about someone being humiliated after they have been an asshole to me. I was feeling delightfully smug, and was in a much better mood when I left the hairdressers. After that, the drive home was uneventful, as was the rest of the evening. I could launch into a story about how I had to fight a dragon in the backyard, and ended the battle by stabbing the dragon in the eye and then he fell into the pool and drowned, and then I had to drag him out so he didn’t clog the filter, but that’s not very interesting so I’ll leave it at that.

Dirty Rugs And Long Nights

So last night was fun.

I had been home from work for about an hour, and was watching Sabrina Goes To Rome, which is totally awesome and has lots of sparkly magic and lulz and talking animals, when I heard Gabriel and Ma shrieking.

Gabriel was yelling, “Monty! No! NO no no no no no! NO! Ughhhh Monty!” while mum was trying not to laugh but failing miserably. I ran out of my room, arms waving crazily, saying “What? What’s going on? What did he do? Where’s my baby?”.

Ma was still laughing, and informed me that Monty had vomited on the rug in the hall. My poor baby dog was sick. She locked him outside on the deck, where he stared at me forlornly. Gabriel had already run off so she didn’t have to clean up the massive brown and white, shit shaped vomit.

Ma instructed me to get some toilet paper and start cleaning. I sighed and shuffled to the toilet, grabbed a wad of paper and went back to the vomit. I stood over it gagging for a few minutes, while Ma laughed at me and told me to hurry up and stop being a pussy. After delivering a few death stares to Ma, I grabbed a chunk of the vomit and ran to the toilet to drop it in.

Ma stood around watching me, and yelling instructions. “Get more toilet paper. No, that’s not enough. Oh, that’s probably too much. Rub it around for a while. Okay, that’s enough! Now get the disinfectant wipes.”

In between gagging, death staring and general whining, I managed to get the vomit cleaned up. Then I rushed out to rescue my baby dog from the back deck. He was still feeling ill because he just curled up on my bed and slept, when usually he’s running around the house like a maniac with a ball or rope in his mouth and running into walls.

He seemed okay at about nine o’clock, so I decided to go to bed. Yeah, yeah I know I go to bed early.

Fast forward to 3am and I was having a delightful dream about people from Twitter (shut up, I totally have a life. Asshole), when I was woken up by a gluggy retching noise. I knew Monty was about to vomit again, so I tried to turn the lamp on and move him off the bed before he did. I failed. I was smashing my hand on the bedside table, hitting everything but the lamp when I heard Monty hurl.

I was repeatedly yelling fuck and getting incredibly frustrated when I finally found the stupid ass lamp (which is the biggest thing on the bedside table). When I could actually see, Monty had his tail between his legs and was shaking in front of a slimy puddle of vomit on the side of my bed.

I got up to look at it from the other side, and it had dripped down the mattress onto the floor, where a bigger pile of vomit was. The poor little guy had tried to vomit onto the floor instead of the bed. He’s so considerate. I did the gagging, whining, cleaning thing again and grabbed a towel that I could throw over the vomit stain so I didn’t have to strip my sheets until the morning. I was half asleep, okay?! Fuck that. Monty came and curled up on my pillow and we went back to sleep.

An hour later it was on again. I woke up earlier this time, but still couldn’t find the lamp so Monty had vomited again before I could move him onto the floor. I cleaned up the vomit the best I could and threw the towel over both of the stains and went back to bed.

I got another hour of sleep before mum came barging in, and told me to get up. I tried telling her about the events of the night before but she thought I was asking her to let me sleep for longer.

“Monty was sick twice again last night.”

“No, get up now Saam. It’s ten past five.”

“Ughhhh. No, I said Monty was sick again last night.”

Finally mum got what I was saying. Monty hadn’t bothered moving which worried me, as he is usually out the door and jumping on Ma’s legs as soon as a light turns on. She called his name and he slowly got up and jumped off the bed to greet her, then started perking up.

As I left for work an hour later, he was back to normal. Gabriel promised to keep an eye on him today, and if he’s sick again he’ll be off to the vet. Honestly, that dog...

King George. Such a brave little fellow.

On Sunday as I was recovering from watching The Human Centipede by watching a shitload of Sabrina and attempting to doze off, Ma started yelling about a king parrot, and how OMG there’s a king parrot down there!

I ignored her, because usually she does that when one lands on our balcony, so I figured I could just block it out and head back to dreamland. But then she started screaming for a towel, and Gabriel starting running around the house crazily, so I figured I had better get up and find out what the hell was going on.

I walked out of room to find Gabriel running down the hallway to the linen cupboard for a towel, so I asked her what happened.

“There’s a King Parrot down there! Your Ma thinks it’s hurt! Quick, quick!”

She grabbed a towel and we both ran downstairs and headed for the gulley in the backyard, where Ma was standing cradling something in her jumper. That something was squawking like crazy and obviously wasn’t happy about the situation.

Ma told us about how the butcher birds (assholes) were swooping him, and he wasn’t going anywhere so he was obviously hurt.

She brought him upstairs and put him in a box so we could figure out what to do.

I suggested she call the Emergency Vet Hospital down the road, but she flat out refused, saying that she didn’t like the people there. So I rang the OTHER vet down the road, and they put me through to some woman who obviously hated her job. I gave the phone to mum, because I couldn’t be assed dealing with an angry person.

All I heard was;

“Hello, I found a King Parrot in my backyard and he’s obviously hurt. (pause) Uh, no, he’s not mine. He’s wild. I found him in the backyard. (pause) Uh, right. Okay.”

Then she wrote down another number and I said something about how “fucking useless” that woman on the phone was, and she totally heard me and I’m glad, because she wouldn’t help us just because we didn’t own the parrot, which is a bitchy move.

So then mum rang the other number, and lo and behold it was the Emergency Vet Hospital I’d told mum to call in the first place. They said to bring him in, so mum gave me the box and she got the car out of the garage so I could get in.

The whole drive, which is only like ten minutes, I was cooing to the parrot so he’d stop squawking and he totally did, because animals love me. Mum drives like a dick when she’s in her Holden, so she was showing off and I was trying hard not to move the box too much, so in between all the cooing and naming of the parrot (King George. It’s a good, strong name. Right?), I was yelling at mum to slow down.

Just before the vet, we had to wait for a light to turn green. We were sitting there for five minutes and the lights STILL hadn’t changed, so mum just ran the red light. I should have high fived her for being a mad d00d.

When we got to the vet and the woman had buzzed us in, mum explained what happened again. The woman asked us to wait in the lobby and she took King George off me and walked off. She totally didn’t care that she was moving the box too much, and I was going to kick her in the head but I figured I should wait until AFTER she fixed King George.

While we were waiting, mum went on about how this wasn’t the vet she hated, it was the other one down the road (it’s vets galore around our hood), and oops she should have called these people first.

I sighed a lot, and put the hospital into Foursquare so I could get the five points from making a new venue.

A few minutes later, the woman came out again with the empty box.

“He didn’t make it. He was paralysed so we had to put him down. When we put him on the table, he just flopped and couldn’t move. I’m sorry.”

Mum and I looked at each other to see if the other was okay, and then mum launched into the story about how she found the bird to the woman. I don’t think the woman was very interested, but Ma likes to tell stories to strangers.

I was so sad about King George. I hate it when animals die. Like, in movies when a person dies I either laugh because I didn’t like them, or say dang and then forget about it, but when an animal dies, I can’t look because I’ll just start crying.

Mum loves her wildlife, so she was pretty sad too. Also, I think King George pooped on her jumper. It must have been his way of saying goodbye.

Resident Evil: Afterlife - The Review

So, last night I went to see Resident Evil: Afterlife with LB (little brother) thanks to Review Brisbane. In exchange for the tickets, I was asked to do a review of the film, so here we go:

I’d never seen a 3D movie before, so walking into the cinema to see Resident Evil: Afterlife 3D, I was feeling a tad apprehensive. What if some zombie jumped out at me and I screamed a little, annoying the other patrons? What if that scream was a tad a louder than intended? What if, god forbid, I oohed at aahed at the beginning credits, while everyone else looked at me like I was special?

Well, it turns out I didn’t need to worry about any of that. I DID ooh and aah at the credits, but so did the rest of the cinema, and every time something came flying at the audience, I wasn’t the only one to let out a whimper.

The film opened to a woman standing stock still in the middle of a busy street, while the credits ran in their awesome 3D fashion. There was a zombie attack pretty much straight away, like any good living dead movie, which certainly got me excited.

So there I was, bouncing in my seat, shoving popcorn in my mouth and stealing my brother’s frozen coke while the movie continued. I’m ashamed to say, but I hadn’t seen a Resident Evil film before so I was struggling to keep up with what was going on. Who was that mean dude? Why are there so many of the same girl? How did she make the ground do that weird wave thing and kill everyone? How can she shoot a shorn off shotgun with one hand without breaking her wrist? Oh, scratch that last one; it is a movie after all.

The movie did try to explain as much as it could about the whole situation, but there were some parts where you would need to see the previous films, or have played the games to understand what was going on. Like, the massive man with the weird axe/meat hammer combo and the potato sack with nails poking out of it covering his head (how could he see anything?!). I had no idea what that was about, but it was still pretty cool when he broke down the gate and a flood of zombies entered the survivors’ prison compound. Then there was the fight scene in the bathrooms with him trying to take down Claire. He managed to make a big ‘ole mess of the bathroom, so there was water spouting everywhere and slow motion slides galore, which was obviously the BEST EVER.

What I wasn’t keen on was the high-tech Umbrella Corporation. It reminded me of when I was a kid and would play Half Life on my dad’s computer and get scared of all the aliens and army guys trying to kill me, so I’d cheat and be invincible but still freak out when something attacked. Also, I’m just not a fan of all the white rooms, frozen people in tubes and odd control screens that look like see through iPads, but can blow up massive buildings and open and close doors (they can probably turn lights on and off too).

I have been instructed by my little brother to mention the blood splattering on our 3D glasses, which actually was pretty awesome. I might have even jerked my head back when I knew what was going to happen but everyone else did too, so shut up. So basically, I quite enjoyed the movie and will now be purchasing the other ones so I can attempt to catch up. I’d still prefer a plain old zombie movie though, where people have to go on raids to get food and end up losing half of their group BECAUSE THEY’RE JUST NOT VIGILANT ENOUGH.

Fin.

Foray into Blogland

As this is my first post, I can assure you it will be boring as shit. I have no clear definition of this blog, or even this post, so have fun with the whole 'keeping up' thing.

At the moment, I'm going through a hellish housemate saga so I'll be sure to post that delightfully entertaining story within the next few weeks. What that means though, is that I've had to move back in with my mum. This isn't terrible news, but it's not great news either.
I get cheaper rent, and don't have to worry about paying for groceries or electricity, which means I will have more money to save when I go to Thailand in December. But it means I have to eat proper food (no more pasta and cheese for dinner), do housework regularly and deal with my mum's partner's moods.

That last one is what is really going to suck proverbial balls. Since I'm so awesome at coming up with names, I'll call mum's girlfriend "Gabriel" so at least you know who I'm talking about.
So Gabriel and Ma have been together for something like 15 years, so she's been in my family in some way or another since I was a tiny, innocent child, still doing everything my brothers told me to do.
I see her as a second mother, but damn is she moody. If she's in a normal mood, her greeting will be a mumbled hello, but if she's shitty, all you'll get is a grunt.

When I was fifteen or so, I got sick of Gabriel never saying hello, so I stopped saying it to her when I got home from school.
Well damn man, shit went down. I was told off by my mum for upsetting Crankpot and when I tried to explain the situation, I somehow dug myself a deeper hole and gave up completely. I apologised, and now it's just something I have to deal with.

I'm not as down about the whole moving home situation as I thought I would be, which is definitely a good thing.
Also, my pup Monty had to go to the vet today, and that cost me over $200, so the money I'm saving will be very helpful right now.

I should get back to work, but here's a picture of Monty in a box, just 'coz.

- Mashonda