You want to WHAT my WHAT?

I sure do love dinner dates, especially if they’re with my darling little Ally. She’s one of those people that are so cute you just want to push them in a bush. A big, spiky bush. With flowers.

Anyhoo, we went out for Mexican last night, which is pretty much the greatest food ever. Om nom nom. When I pulled into the carpark, she was just getting out of the car. The first thing she said to me was, “That dress actually looks really cute on you.” Obviously I came to the conclusion that she didn’t think it would.

We went inside, ordered our nummy meals and chatted about various subjects and our upcoming trip to Thailand. We then decided that we would be making a trip to Sydney in the new year (are you listening Ben Harlum?). It seems that Montezuma’s is where we plan all of our trips. We were sitting there about eight months ago, eating and drinking when we decided we would head off to Thailand. It is our hive of inspiration.

We ate our delicious meals and then decided to head off. It was pretty damn early, about 6.30pm, so we sat in the car for five minutes trying to figure out what to do. Eventually we decided to just drive around and figure something out on the way. Ally suggested we go hang out with her boyfriend and one of his mates at the paintball field where the mate lives. While we were waiting on a reply from her boyo, we went for a drive up one of the mountains. It was at this point that I started telling Ally all about the scary movie I saw on Sunday night, which probably wasn’t the greatest idea since we were in total darkness up a mountain.

Her boyfriend finally replied with the address so we started off towards the fields. As we were almost there, he rang and told us to meet him at his place just down the road so they could show us where the fields were. After finding them and following their car we arrived at the fields. We followed them through a gate, where we stopped so they could close it and lock it after us. It was pitch black here too, so obviously the doors were locked.

We followed them down a dirt road, past a few sheds, and down another, rougher dirt road. The whole time I was fearing for my car’s safety. She’s a lady you know, so she doesn’t do dirt roads. We finally arrived at his mate’s place in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and climbed out of the car. I had to manoeuvre around a tree or two to get out on my side, which was fun.

We were greeted by Ally’s boyfriend, Cal and his mate Ralph who were a tad intoxicated and wandered up to the house. It was uh...unusual. I guess you could say it was more like a shack than a house, but it wasn’t horrid. It even had a cute little kitchen, leopard print chairs and a poster of a young Charlie Sheen. Oh and I can't forget to mention the underpants montage hanging on the wall.

Once inside, we met another fellow, Yowie. It was a tad awkward at first, as we didn’t know anyone apart from Cal, but the other guys were delightful so it got better. Ralph and Yowie are pretty much the most hilarious little assholes I’ve ever met, so I had myself a good chuckle. Ralph was a great host, as he kept offering us drinks etc. and he and Yowie were always sure to start the conversations when things got quiet. Ally and Cal were being all yuck and hugging on the couch next to me (omg gross, she’s totally going to get boy germs) so I chatted to the boys in between sitting there awkwardly and staring at a poster of sex positions.

I think we stayed for about 45 minutes, when we decided to pack it in so I could drive home before I started getting too sleepy. We bid adieu to the boys, and then followed their car back to the gate so they could let us out. After that I dropped Ally home and then headed back to my house for a can of Sunkist and to watch some Dance Academy (shut up asshole, it’s a good show, okay?).

Ally and I should have nights like that more often. ARE YOU LISTENING ALYSSA?

_____________________________________

I'd just also like to mention an arousing little fellow by the name of Christopher Lane. I got in trouble because I wrote about Holly, but didn't write about him when we hung out. It's not my fault! I can't remember why I didn't write a post, so shut up. Anyway, he's pretty easy, so you should hit him up.

Mr. Lane, next time we hang out, I will be sure to write an epic post detailing our adventures and every hilarious thing you say and do, okay? Cool beans.  

You wish you were as cool as me.

Sunday was the highlight of my weekend/week/month, apart from the 6.30am wakeup which kind of sucked balls. Actually, it didn’t really. It meant that I had time to sit around on my ass before driving to the Coast to have breakfast with Holly.

When I arrived at Holly’s, she opened the door in her towel (she wants me) and went and had a shower while I was pounced on by her pup, Baxter. He bit my throat, which I thought was odd, until last night when I started howling at rabbits and killing things. But that's a story for another day. 

I entertained myself by picking up eggshells that Baxter had gotten into, and watching tv with the sound off. Eventually, we left to go to breakfast. We went to a lovely cafe just off the beach and chatted away about anything and everything. After breakfast we went and sat on a little hill overlooking the beach and had a cigarette before heading off on a slow walk to the shops.

 I was looking for a dress that I could wear to work, but FANCY THAT! I found nothing. Woe is me. All was right with the world when we got slurpies though. Yehhhh slurpies. We headed back to Holly’s place to pick up Baxter and off we went to the beach.

SPOT THE BAXTER!

Guess what happened at the beach?! I got swooped by a helicopter. TWICE. Yeah. It was stupidly close (well it FELT like it was close) and loud and horrid and I felt sick. That was the first time. Then it came back again. Stupid assholes were probably sitting in their helicopter going “Hey, look at that girl down there. She’s all curled up in a ball and looking terrified. I think she likes us. We should go past again.”

Oh yeah, you’re so clever. Asshats. I didn’t cry though, because then Holly wouldn’t think I was cool anymore.

You know what else happened? I got sunburnt. Holly told me to cover up with a towel, but I was all, “Nah, its okay. I’ll be fine.” God, I’m such a dumbass. So kids, if Holly tells you to cover up, you should. It’s one of life’s important lessons.

After that we went back to her place, and I headed home. I was so stupidly exhausted, and I’m pretty sure I had a mild case of sunstroke. Woo, go me. I didn't get to nap though, as I had to rush off to PEG's place so we could go and see The Silent House. If you haven't seen it, you should. Okayyyy?

I have been ordered to mention a certain someone. He threatened to tie me up and whip me with his hair if I didn’t, so HI BEN HARLUM. You have been mentioned, so please don’t hurt me.

Kicks To The Tits.

How do I top a post about my bladder? None of my other organs are very interesting, so this may prove to be difficult. What’s happened recently? Let’s see...I saw a movie, cleaned up dog vomit, made plans for the weekend...FUCK, YOU GUYS! My life is so god damn boring!

I could make up some fantastical story, involving really attractive guys and girls slowly running up a beach...OH SHIT, that’s Baywatch. Great, I can’t even make up stories.

You know what annoys me? People still thinking I’m a teenager. It’s not that I act like one, it’s that I look like one. It’s so very irritating.

The other night I went to dinner with Ma & Gabriel. As we contemplated the menu down at our local, mum suggested that I get a kids meal, as I never eat a whole adult one. I refused, knowing that the staff would think I was 15. She won out, and went and ordered for me. The waitress came over to our table with my meal about ten minutes later and asked who had ordered it. I stared at the table  while mum loudly proclaimed that I was the one the meal was for. The waitress smirked at me, put my food on the table and walked out. I was thisclose to getting up and kicking her in the tit for smirking at me.

We ended up sending my meal back because it had been brought out before the entrees and mum and Gabriel’s meals, so I was subject to the humilation again when they brought it back with the other meals. It was a different waiter, and when ma told him that it was my meal, I death stared her like I’ve never death stared before. He put it down in front of me, noticed I was mid-death stare and said, “Ah, teenagers usually order the kids meals. Don’t worry.” Ma thought it was hilarious, as did Gabriel and I just sat there fuming.

WHAT THE FUCK, MAN? I’m not a teenager! I am 21 years old, and I will pound your ass with my puny, fifteen year old looking arms.

I told him I wasn’t a teenager and he just said “oh” and walked off. You should see it when I try to buy cigarettes! One afternoon, I was dangerously low in smokes. At three, I was out the door and on my way home from work. It takes me about an hour to drive home, but I only had one cigarette. I had to make it last until I got the service station that is about fifteen minutes away from home, but failed miserably. When I’d finished my last smoke, I found a half finished one in one of the many compartments of my car. I knew it was from a few weeks ago, but I lit her up anyway.

It tasted like stale Chlamydia so I gave up on that asshole and dealt with the fact that I would have to wait half an hour before I got to the servo. At the servo I filled my car up and walked in to pay and get my smokes. I asked for my brand and the woman gave me a disbelieving look and asked for ID.

Now, I know it’s meant to be a good thing for people to still ask you for ID, even though you’re 21 and have numerous tattoos that you think would prove to people that you’re over 18, but it really does get annoying. Especially when they stare at your chest tattoo while demanding to see some identification. I know I look young and sound like a little girl, but I wouldn’t have these tattoos unless I was over 18.

Sigh. Anyway, I was granted permission from the attendant to purchase my loot and then I legged it back to the car so I could enjoy another cigarette. Sweet release. DO YOU SEE HOW HARD MY LIFE IS? I have to deal with so many first world problems on a daily basis.

Shit, you know what? I kind of like people thinking I'm fifteen. If I'm being hit on by some wanker, I just tell him I'm 15 and he vanishes. It's pretty dang effective. *waggles eyebrows*

This post is all about my bladder. Seriously.

I have failed you, creepers that actually read this. I didn’t tell you anything amusing in my last post. This was mainly because I hadn’t had my customary ‘after lunch’ coffee, but I’ve had it now so I can blog properly. Maybe.

As I mentioned, I stayed at my nan and pop’s place on the Gold Coast over the weekend, which is about an hour and a half from my place. Dad and I went shopping yesterday and got back to nan and pop’s at around midday. I decided to have a cup of coffee and some lunch before making my way home.

It was a brilliant idea to have a coffee so close to leaving for a long drive. Seriously, I am obviously above average intelligence. Half an hour into the drive, I was filled with dread as I realised I had to pee. I ignored it for another half hour, telling myself over and over that I could hold it, until I finally realised I’d have to stop. An exit came up on the highway with a sign telling me that there was a service station up ahead, so I took it, jiggling around in my seat and attempting to change gears at the same time. As I took the exit, I was frantically looking around for the servo. I couldn’t see it, so I assumed it was on the other side of the highway, so I turned right and went under the highway to the other side.
All that greeted me were trucks thundering down a tree and dirt lined road AND NO SERVICE STATIONS!

I briefly considered stopping on the side of the road and popping a squat, but changed my mind when I saw how little cover there was. Having to choose between holding a pee in or showing numerous truck drivers your behind is a pretty easy decision to make.

I got back onto the highway (a total of ten minutes later) and continued searching for a servo, while loudly screaming “FUCK” and “GOD HATES ME”. Eventually I spotted one on the other side of the highway and decided to take my chances at finding out a way to get over there. I got off on the next exit and AMAZINGLY found my way to the servo. I raced in and headed straight for the bathroom. I was so close I could smell the stale pee and horrid smelling deodoriser. I put my hand on the doorknob...

Turned it...

AND IT WAS LOCKED.

I let out a groan, which was louder than I intended it to be and was about to walk to the counter to ask for a key when the attendant yelled out, “Try it again honey, I’ve just unlocked it.”

I spun around, turned the doorknob and HALLELUJAH MUTHAFUCKA the door was unlocked!

That pee was seriously the best ever. There was no toilet paper, but fuck it I didn’t care! I’d finally emptied my bladder, the sun was shining, angels were singing and unicorns were laughing.

It was a top ten moment.

Shitdamn, this is half assed.

On Sunday my nan and pop held a lunch with uncles, aunties and grandchildren aplenty. As usual, I sat there awkwardly while everyone else chatted away and made jokes about Jeremy’s toes (they’re like raptors apparently). I was at the end of the table with my sunglasses on (I have sensitive eyes, okay?), staring at the table and playing with the tablecloth, when I’d look up numerous times to see my dad or uncle waving at me because they thought I was looking at them. Then came the questions that inevitably arise at every family occasion; How’s work? What are you doing with yourself these days? What’s been happening? Etc.

I always answer these questions the same way, yet they’re asked time and time again. WHY, GOD, WHY? I know my family aren’t that interested in my life, so why? Why can’t we talk about things we haven’t talked about before? Like how preparations for the zombie apocalypse are going, and where we will disappear to when it happens. I’d love to talk about that. I would so be involved in that shit. In fact, I’d probably be the main person in that conversation, you know, because I’m really prepared and know everything. But unfortunately, that never happens. I did however, have a conversation with my auntie about how great the sex scenes in the Sookie Stackhouse books are, which was um, interesting.

My dad was there with his Thai girlfriend, and I felt so bad for her. She came over from Thailand for three months knowing limited English, so I can only imagine how awkward she felt when everyone was talking and laughing around her. You could tell she was getting pretty over it and dad was trying his hardest to get her involved, but it proved too difficult for all of them.

Eventually people started leaving, which meant people stopped asking me if I was okay, and I was able to relax a bit. I had to drive my dad and Jen to the airport at 9pm that night, so at around 4pm I went off for a nap. It was a tad unsuccessful though, so I got up again at 5pm. I was pretty cranky, and just wanted to go home by this stage but as I couldn't, I sat around quietly, reading and just generally ignoring people.

My auntie then proclaimed that she wanted to go for a walk, so I went with her as I was feeling pretty bored. We wandered down to the park and I bitched about the situation with dad and she bitched about my uncle (her husband) and how his kids treat them like shit. We walked around the park a few times before heading back to the house, where I once again sat around quietly.

The rest of the night was just as boring until 9, when dad, Jen and I bundled into my car and set off for the airport. Dad demanded I change the music, so I put Duran Duran on and lit up a smoke or three to keep myself occupied. At the airport Jen was quiet, and dad was getting annoyed at her. Eventually she went off to board and gave dad a hug and kiss (I got a hug too! Score!) before leaving. Dad looked like he was about to tear up, so I made excuses and went off to the toilet to give him a minute. When I came out, he told me how shitty it was that she had left but that it was part of the culture for goodbyes to be so quick.

We left the airport and dad fell asleep on the way back to nan and pop’s place. It was about 1am when we got home, so I went off to bed straight away.
How tiring.

I know I'll regret posting this, but here goes anyway.

This weekend my dad will be coming to the Coast to see his Thai girlfriend off. I’m glad that I get to see dad before Christmas, since I can’t visit him as I’ll be overseas, but at the same time I’m fucking pissed. My 21^st birthday was in September, and I had invited dad down to celebrate with everyone else. He originally said that he might make it, but then said that he just couldn’t afford to. I understand why he couldn’t afford it; he’d just paid for his girlfriend to come to Australia for three months. He paid for the return flights, the transfers, everything along the way, her VISA, her EVERYTHING. He then turns around to me and says he can’t make it to my 21^st because he’s broke.

I get it, he’s lonely. I also get that it’s his money and he can do what he likes with it, but it’s not like my 21^st was a big surprise event. He knows my birthday, and he knows how old I am, so I don’t understand why he didn’t put something away for it.

I was ridiculously unhappy with this, and still am. Then, I find out that he’s flying to Brisbane with her to see her off at the airport when she goes back to Thailand. So basically, he couldn’t afford to come and see his only daughter for her 21^st, but he can afford to fly to the same town that I live in two months later so that he can make sure Thai Girlfriend gets on a plane safely.

On my 21^st, I received a card from dad and Jen (who I’ve only met once), with $100 and “Happy Birthday. Love Dad and Jen” written on the inside. There were no personal messages, nothing saying he was proud of me or that he was sorry he couldn’t make it down. It was even less personal because he had written her name in it. How had she become such a big part of his life already? When he met her, he was in Thailand for a month, and then all of a sudden he’s over there again and bringing her back with him.

I’ve always rated pretty low in my dad’s life. He’s never known how to act around me or what to expect, so naturally he was closer to my brothers. That doesn’t mean that he makes much more effort for them, it’s just that he gets along with them better. I never cared that much, but now that I’ve noticed, it won’t go away. He never makes an effort for us kids, ever. We always have to fly up to see him and when we do he doesn’t even take time off work to spend time with us, so we’re left sitting around on the farm for a week.

I love my dad, I really do.

But he needs to step up and be a fucking father.

I think he blames us for what mum did to him. Mum married him, had three children with him, and then left him. She’s gay. She’s always been gay, but because of how she was brought up (with a gay father who hid it and was severely fucked up) she felt that she had to hide it in order to be happy. She finally realised she had to be true to herself, and left dad. He was devastated, which is to be expected. He still isn’t over it, and rarely speaks to mum. Unfortunately, we seem to be copping the blame from dad. I don’t think he realises that he’s doing it, but it’s happening and it hurts. All I want is my dad to be there for me. Is that so much to ask?

The Housemates - Part 1

I’ve only been living out of home for 3 years (and back at home for portions of that), yet I somehow always move in with shitfaces. They could be the not-clean-the-house kind, or the you-can’t-do-that kind, but I seem to have encountered them all.

I first moved out of home just after I turned 18. I had my license and a full time job so I was all set. At this time I was a hardcore vegan and decided I only wanted to live with people like me so I started searching for all vegan households.

I found one near the city, and decided to go in and have a look. Mum came with me, partly so she could direct me and partly so she could suss the situation out, as she wasn’t particularly pleased with my decision to move.

Upon arrival, we decided the place was an epic dump. The people living there weren’t bothering to maintain the yard and the inside was stacked with their accumulated crap. If that hadn’t already made me decide against it, the bedroom for rent concreted my decision to get the hell out of there. It was TINY, and since someone was still living in the room at the time, it was also piled high with shit.

Ma and I made our excuses and left.

This put a damper on my whole ‘living with fellow vegans’ dream, because if that house was any indication, all vegans (apart from myself of course) were disgusting slobs who didn’t bother to clean, and probably didn’t shave their armpits.

I kept looking for rooms to rent, but looked for ‘normal’ sharehouses. The next house I came across ended up being ‘the one’. It was a four bedroom house in a good location and because there were already three others living there, it was cheap too. It wasn’t particularly clean, but people seemed to keep to their rooms so I went for it.

On the day I arrived to move everything in, the carpet in my room was filthy and obviously hadn’t been vacuumed for my arrival. This really pissed Ma off, but I shrugged it off because of how excited I was about moving out.

Everything was moved in by the afternoon and Ma and my brothers went home. The first thing I noticed was that there was no toilet paper. There was only ONE toilet in the house, so this disturbed the shit out of me. How long had they been without toilet paper? Were they fighting about who had to buy it? HOW DID THEY WIPE THEIR BITS? Like seriously, it’s not like your bowels or bladder are on a timer and go off at the same time every day. What if one of them had to shit, right in the middle of this war? Did they use a tea towel? Or did they just go in the backyard and use a leaf?

I was out the door like a shot. I had to buy some toilet paper and I had to buy it FAST.

When I came home from my voyage to the shops, I stocked the toilet with toilet paper and then retreated to my room. My room was in a pretty bad corner of the house. One wall backed onto the back steps (the steps the security guard housemate used when he came home at 4am) and the toilet was right next to another wall. This meant that I could hear EVERYTHING any of my housemates did in that toilet, which was especially revolting early in the morning when the boys would go for a marathon piss.

I stayed there for about a month. Every afternoon when I would come home, I’d get changed and run off to the gym straight away so I wouldn’t have to see anyone. When I got back from the gym, I’d hide in my room and watch DVDs, which is pretty much what I do anyway, but I had different reasons for it then.

The woman that owned the house was a delightful lady. Her son lived in the house (in the master bedroom, of course) and he walked around like his shit didn’t stink. He was an ugly bastard, smelt like an old man’s room, and would talk down to everyone. His mum would come over most weekends so that she could do his washing for him. It’s not like we didn’t have a washing machine, because we did, so it was an odd situation. She’d do his washing and then come upstairs and clean his dishes, mop and vacuum the entire house and mow the back lawn. He would have been about 21, so it made no sense to me for her to do that. He treated her like shit too. Always scowling and telling her she hadn’t done enough. It was revolting.

I didn’t really know any of the other people that lived there until Hamid moved in a week or so after me. He was the security guard for a club in the city and would trump up the stairs at 4am every morning, always managing to wake me up no matter how quiet he was. He’d wander into the kitchen while I was making dinner and we’d chat about his job, my tattoos and the situation with his crazy girlfriend. He was the only one in the house that I enjoyed living with.

As I said, I only stayed for about a month, as Ma had been secretly looking for other places for me to live because she hated me living in that ‘disgusting’ house. She found me a place closer to the city, in a three bedroom apartment with a 30 something divorcee. When I left the sharehouse, Hamid promised to keep in contact (which he did for a while). The day before I moved out, the owner of the house came around to give me my bond back. She sat me down at the dining room table, and her son followed. He sat there giving me dirty looks, and when his mother pushed the money from my bond down the table at me, he snatched them up.

“What are you doing? You can’t give her this! I need it for myself this week. You told me you’d give it to me.”

At this point I was panicking that I wouldn’t get my bond back. I needn’t have worried though, as his mother took the money off him and gave it to me before telling him that she’d give him money later. I began breathing again, and took off to my room as soon as I could, but not before the landlady sadly told me that I was the best tenant she’d ever had, and she was sorry to see me go. I felt so horrible. She always came up and had a chat with me whenever she visited, and I could tell she was lonely and relished those moments. I didn’t want to let her down, but I wasn’t comfortable in that house so it was for the best.

The next day I made my pilgrimage to the new apartment.

Thus ends part 1 of the saga. Part 2 to come soon.

Paranormal Activity 2: The Review

Last night, my little brother and I went to see Paranormal Activity 2. As I won the tickets from Review Brisbane, I was required to write a review.

Here we go;

Let me preface this by saying just how much I enjoyed the first Paranormal Activity. The way the movie was filmed was unlike any other horror movie I had seen, and the fact that they relied on something unseen as the main premise of the movie certainly was brave, so I was quite excited about seeing the second one. The cinema was practically empty when we got there, which I kind of expected as it was a Monday night, and I’d heard a few bad things about the movie.

The movie started much like the first one; a happy family played by overzealous actors are playing around with a camera, filming mundane things like bringing a baby home from the hospital for the first time. Uh fine, I’m sure it was very exciting for the family, rah rah rah.

One minute you’re watching some baby and the next they’re filming their wrecked house. This is when things should start to get interesting, but to be honest it was still quite slow going. That demon sure must have had a lot of time on his hands if he was dragging it out that much. And seriously, what kind of well respected and feared demon messes with people by dragging their pool cleaner out of the water? A lame one, that’s what. I don’t even care if that demon hears me, because it’s not like he’ll do anything bad to me. He’ll probably just slam a few doors, and drop some pots and pans on the kitchen bench.

What a bad ass.

The last quarter of the movie is when things start to pick up, but unfortunately I wasn’t concentrating on it fully because a group of kids behind me were farting, laughing and talking non-stop. Since no one else in the theatre said anything, I was forced to turn around and ask them to please shut up and give them numerous stern looks. It scared them quiet for a while, so I was able to turn my attention back to the film.

So, things were finally starting to get interesting. The demon messed the dog up something chronic, which is just plain rude if you ask me, and the father and daughter took her off to the vet.

This is when the female lead (I have no idea what her name is) starts getting owned by the demon. FINALLY. She’s standing in the baby’s room when all of a sudden she’s being dragged down the stairs by some invisible force. She fights back and runs back upstairs but the demon owns her again and drags her down to the basement. A few hours later she comes up from the basement and is obviously possessed. She has an epic staring problem, and seems to have forgotten how to blink.

 

This is where I have a big problem with the movie. The whole storyline is that the demon is after her son (the baby), so when the demon possesses her you’d think he’d be running right up those stairs and stealing that baby. But noooooo. It sits in a chair in the baby’s room and stares some more, and not even at the baby. I will admit that the possessed lady is damn creepy and let me just say that I’m glad to went to the toilet before the movie, but seriously? Sigh. All of a sudden it’s the next day and the daughter and father come home from the vet. They think something is wrong with the possessed lady, but don’t really do anything about it. You know, because they’re really bright.

 

More stuff happens, and they manage to get the demon out of the woman, and everything is happy chappy la la nothings wrong we’re awesome and defeated a demon. You’d think that would be the end of the movie, but wait, there’s more! Katie from the first movie (who is the sister of the possessed lady) ends up in their house one night, snaps the dad’s neck, then goes upstairs to kill the sister and FINALLY STEALS THE BABY! Gawd, it took the stupid thing long enough. What an ineffective demon.

But honestly, that ending sucked a lot of something. It ruined the movie for me, and my little brother totally agrees (he just told me). Overall, the movie wasn’t bad but it wasn’t good either. The acting was sub-par, it progressed too slowly for my liking and the demon is a total loser. They did say “pussy” though. So I guess that made it okay.

The Party (like that movie, only better and with more dogs)

Yesterday was the day. It was Monty’s first birthday party. I know, I know; throwing a party for your dog is so fucking lame and i’m totally going to die alone. But I love my puppy, and I love having get togethers and I love Halloween so it was valid, okay?!

I woke up at 8am, trying my hardest to sleep in for longer but failing. After stumbling to the kitchen for coffee and toast, I retreated to the loungeroom to watch the Simpsons (Halloween specials, hells yeah) and hide from my family. After watching the episode where Bart has special mind powers, and those statues come to life because Homer steals a donut, I jumped in the shower and scrubbed myself clean.

Feeling refreshed, I enlisted Jeremy’s girlfriend’s (Kiah) help for putting up the decorations, since Jeremy was much too busy playing PlayStation and being a wankface. Kiah and I trumped downstairs with my bag of Halloween shit, and started decorating. I had a Halloween tablecloth, some witch and Frankenstein platters (which I filled with body part lollies and cheap toys), some ghost and pumpkin bowls (which were also filled with lollies), a light up skull (his name is Hector), and some other little bowls for food.

Then we hung up the ‘Happy Halloween’ banner, which involved Kiah standing on a chair and me standing below her being useless, followed by wrapping some poles with Frankenstein streamers. I was quite proud of the finished product.

When that was finished, I made another coffee and then went up to the shed to see what mum was doing. The neighbours called so we had to go and meet them at the fence to give them vouchers for their granddaughter.

Their granddaughter just stood there smiling at me shyly, which kind of freaked me out but she was still pretty cute. She told us about how she will have a new brother or sister in December, and that she calls it Turtle at the moment. It was pretty adorable. Monty was with us and just stood there barking at them for a while until I threw his ball for him. He sure knows how to get what he wants.

The neighbours let us go so we could start our party, so we wandered back to the patio to set up chairs. While Ma and I were doing that my older brother (Chris), his girlfriend (Yoland) and their pup (Fynn) arrived. Chris and Yoland went straight up to Jeremy’s room to watch him play PlayStation, because they’re all boring motherfuckers.

The party was scheduled to start at eleven am, but just after eleven, people started texting me saying they’d be late (because they’re all assholes. Yes, even you, Miss Professional Ex. Girlfriend). I put some music on, screamed at my family to come downstairs and start mingling (with themselves, since no one else was there) and then went out the front to have a smoke, put a party hat on the letterbox and wait for people to arrive.

Thankfully, the Chancellors arrived while I was mid-smoke, so I didn’t have too long to sit there stewing for. The Chancellors are old family friends of ours, (Mr. Chancellor is responsible for starting his car while our cat was inside the bonnet, resulting in the loss of his tail) and have three kids, so they always bring the noise.

This officially kicked off the party. Monty didn’t know what to do with all of these people around, so he decided to hide under chairs and bark at the Chancellors. They’d brought him a massive stuffed dog for his birthday, which he promptly barked at and backed away from. Everyone was laughing at Monty, and Mrs. Chancellor was stirring him up by shrilly telling him to stop being stupid and then cackling at him. She’s an awesome lady.

Eventually Monty got used to everyone and started playing with Fynn, which provided us with a bit of entertainment. At around 12pm my ex, Seb arrived, which meant that the only person we were waiting on was Professional Ex. Girlfrien (PEG). Half an hour later, she showed up, so I finally relaxed and got into the conversation. Up until that point, I was half listening to people and was frequently getting up to go out the front to wait for people.

PEG’s arrival also signalled that Chris could start cooking lunch. Chris, Jeremy, Yoland and Kiah all got up to supervise the BBQ, while everyone else yelled that they weren’t doing it right, and asking who put Chris in charge. Good times, good times.

We all tucked in to a yummy lunch of sausages, hamburger patties and numerous salads, which shut everyone up for a while. After lunch, Ma was putting party hats on the dogs, which was pretty much the most hilarious thing any of us had ever seen.

Nicky

After laughing like maniacs at that for a while, I went upstairs and cut up the cake. The Chancellor kids and PEG came up and helped me carry all the plates down and everyone tucked in again. Well, most people. You know, the sane ones that like cake.

Then it was time for presents! I dragged the basket of toys into the middle of the circle and sat down with the youngest Chancellor child (Mr. 4) and Monty to get stuck into it. Monty ripped open his first present, which was a packet of tennis balls (he has a thing for balls, heh heh) and then took off to chase them while I sat there stupidly, trying to call him back so we could open the rest of the presents. At this stage, Mr. 4 decided to take things into his own hands and started opening Monty’s presents and handing them around to all of the dogs. He opened most of them, while everyone laughed and asked who’s birthday it was. Monty finally started realising there was an abundance of toys, and got stuck into them, and we all watched as Seb threw numerous toys onto the lawn at once, while Monty, Fynn, Nicki & Mulder all ran around like idiots.

After cake and presents, everyone had bulging bellies and we decided the best idea ever was to go and have a swim. I’m too fat for bathers right now, so I put a dress on over the top of my togs in an attempt to hide. Jeremy, Chris, Seb, Kiah and the Chancellor kids were all in the pool when I decided to get in. It was a tad cold, so I was standing on the steps like a pussy, trying to get used to the temperature before I got in fully. However, Jeremy decided he would make it easier for me and pushed me into the pool. Little shit.

I got used to the water pretty quickly though, and we all played a deformed game of water polo with two balls instead of one, both flying around at the same time with arms and bodies flailing around in the air accompanying by numerous “shits” and “cop thats”.

Mrs. Chancellor brought Monty down to the pool and I swam around with him while everyone laughed at how much he looked like an otter. He swam to the steps almost straight away, got out and starting running around like he was on crack. Fynn joined us for a swim (much to his disgust), then ran around in the garden with Monty while I got out and attempted to dry off.

After going upstairs to get changed, I made myself a coffee because of how stupidly tired I was. It was about three o’clock by that time, and I hadn’t had a nap so I was feeling pretty dang drained.

People started leaving at about four o’clock, which was when Ally arrived for our horror night. We all started cleaning up and once that was done PEG, Ally and I went upstairs for more food and to start watching some movies.

After only watching two movies, PEG and Ally made their way home. I went to bed pretty much straight away, but I wasn’t the only one who was tired; Monty was already passed out on my bed by that time.

I really should have more gatherings like that.