Home Alone

I woke up fresh and perky this morning after a weekend of blissful nothingness. My aunt, her hubby and their kids spent the weekend away (yay!) at her mom's. There was no "you really need to stop smoking" every single time I lit up, with me thinking why is this conversation so familiar? Oh yeah, that’s right, we had it 5 minutes ago. No having to sit though their new shared passion: kicking back and watching golf all weekend - BOooooring! They're only in their mid-thirties but they've obviously been slapped in the ass by the Old Married Couple Syndrome. Ah, nothing like a weekend left to my own devises. I just stayed in, did my long overdue laundry (i was already deep into my reserve of stringy and seam-less 20 year old undies), I preened, cut my nails and watched a gazillion DVDs.
I particularly enjoyed Hitch. 2 words for you: Eva Mendez.
Need I say more? YUMMAY! Especially in those glasses.

When you have your own place, personal space is something you take for granted. It's an alien feeling to have the remote all to myself and not have to bribe my little cousin to catch a glimpse of MTV Cribs before succumbing to the whining, biting and fighting to switch back for another 10 hours of Cartoon Network. Don't get me wrong - I love cartoons, especially those that make it onto the big screen (I've seen every single feature length cartoon ever made) I love Cow and Chicken, Rugrats etc but you can only have so much of Dexter and I'll definitely pass on the Powerpuff fluff or the Teletubbies.

Teletubbies!
Fuck, I cannot even begin to express into words how I feel about the Teletubbies. Every time I hear "uh-oh" I want to find gun, shove it in my mouth and quietly blow my brains out. Why oh why is the sun a baby's face?? I'm sorry, but that’s just weird and creepy: a disembodied baby’s head prancing around giggling at nothing. And just when you think the agony is over, that you have somehow managed to escape the literally mind numbing torture that no mortal man should have to endure without going totally PVS like poor old Terri: they say "buh-bye" like a billion times and you’re thinking please pretty please JUST FUCKING GO ALREADY! It is worse than fingernails on chalkboard. But the most irritating part is when they pick some utterly pointless task and do it over and over and over again like falling over and then getting up painfully slowly and going “uh-oh!” accompanied by a stupid cackling sound masquerading as a giggle. And I’ m thinking ‘oh no!” coz I know the next fat Tubby is going to do exactly the same thing and that’s when I run screaming out of the room clutching my head before lose all activity in my brain. In short, I really don't like the Teletubbies very much. Unless they’re beheaded, sliced, diced and incorporated into a nice soup a la Inky Dinky fucking Winky…

I’m glad my baby cousin has outgrown them at the ripe old age of 12 months. He cant talk yet but now that he can wobble about if you put on a show he doesn’t like and you fail to notice his deep disappointment in your poor judgement from the face he makes, he’ll let you know just how incredibly irked he is by getting right up and switching off the TV. Teletubbies gets the off treatment too. There's a God afterall.

Anyway.
This post wasn’t supposed to go down like this.
It was supposed to be about my weekend of serenity and tranquillity - listening to birds chirping, the beautiful earthy smell of wet soil after the rain on Saturday, about how much I like soccer and…But when my TeleTubbyPhobic alter ego takes over my body I can’t help it. Its all Dr Jekyll up in here now so I’ll go make some coffee, tar my lungs a little more then wear a straight jacket and try to think happy thoughts.