Just yappin away again

Wow. It seems my occasional senseless mumblings have now been reduced to a mere bi-monthly incoherent stutter.
Anywayz, there’s nothing to report.
I’m alive.
Woopie-doop.

Just trying to figure out what’s going on with this blog. Yes Misha, what gives? I’m still soothing my bleeding, calloused and blistered fingers from having to scroll down for five minutes to encounter any form of text. I feel like some great pioneer…Eureeka! Text! I. FOUND. TEXT!!!

I think I need a project. Like join a knitting club or somethin. Not that I feel bored in my little house with the occasional er…sleepover guest, but its always good to have a temporary escape from my egocentric universe. I don’t have a TV…long story…so I got a 3000-piece puzzle. Jesus. WTF was I thinking? its 30% sky! But you can only do a puzzle for so long before you need to go out and strike up a conversation with the neighbour’s cat because you are so deprived of any form of social contact.

I’m considering splashing out on an Xbox and a coupla games (if you know any good ones let me know!). I know, I know, I should be saving up for diapers, or at least buying some decent clothes, but somehow clothes/shoes/accessories just don’t feature in my list of purchase priorities, what with essential things like video games, a pool table and a mini-bar taking up my salary for the next few months. Methinks its time I stop pretending to be a mature and sophisticated woman (not that anyone ever bought it) and let that inner 12-year old run loose.

****************************************************************

I came across these on the Ellen Fanlisting:
I’ve never been in love, but I seriously think I could love this woman. I mean like really really love her.

“Friends will write me letters. They run out of room on the front of the letter. They write 'over' on the bottom of the letter. Like I'm that much of a moron. Like I need that there. Because if it wasn't there, I'd get to the bottom of the page: 'And so Kathy and I went shopping and we--' That's the craziest thing! I don't know why she would just end it that way."

"I ask people why they have deer heads on their walls. They always say because it's such a beautiful animal. There you go. I think my mother is attractive, but I have photographs of her."

"In the beginning there was nothing. God said, 'Let there be light!' And there was light. There was still nothing, but you could see it a whole lot better."

"(When in a public washroom) We have that little territory cough that we use. Scares people away. 'Cause even if there is a lock, there are these idiots who will continue to try to open the door. You say, 'Somebody's in here... idiot'. What are they thinking? 'It's just stuck. I know it. Just somebody's shoes they left in there earlier. Get the ramrod, this one is tight!'"

Th-th-thats all folks!

sick

I’ve been sick as a dog for the last couple of days.
Sick as a dog? I won’t even pretend to understand the English language. Speaking of the English language, who the hell knows how to use a semi-colon properly? You want to end the sentence; but you don’t; so you just shove it; somewhere?

Anyhow, back to my affliction: Spent the last two days lying in bed having K wait on me (erm, no, didn’t actually deliver the whole “its not you, its me” break-up speech I’ve been formulating – YET). I’m supposed to pick up the results of my blood test today and find out exactly what’s wrong with me. Could be a cold or the flu or cholera or Tuberculosis or the on-set of AIDS or... Hmm, maybe I should just wait for my results.

I have a feeling it might have something to do with the four bloated mosquitoes I killed this morning flying around lazily, slower than usual since they were stuffed with my blood. I killed them, if for nothing else, just to wipe the smirk on their bloodied faces. I probably didn't have to coz they were so fat any moment they would've popped on their own anyway. My apartment is buzzing with hundreds of those deadly little carnivores and nothing I do seems to get rid of them. I hardly ever get sick; (oooooh! could that actually be the correct use of a semi-colon??) in fact it was probably back in 2001 the last time I had anything more than a runny nose. Been in this blood sucking fest for 1 month and I suddenly come down with fever, shivers, coughs, the whole shebang. I’ve tried insecticides and some weird coily thing that burns all night and reeks up the entire place so bad that even I don’t wanna be in the apartment although the mosquitoes don’t seem to mind much. There’s this lotion that is supposed to ward off bugs from within 1m of me. More like attracts them from the look of things. There's something you plug into the power outlet which is supposed keep them away from the building, not much good that's done me so far. A combination of all four seems to result in the sweetest perfume, because thats when they come diving into my skin brandishing forks and knives with a napkin tied around their neck.

At this stage there’s only one thing left to do: BURN THE HOUSE DOWN. That ought to show 'em who’s boss. But I've been advised against that, so instead, my apartment is getting professionally fumigated today - you're going down, sick bastards! I can almost picture a dozen or so masked men striding into the apartment in slow motion, surrounded by a cloud of toxic fumes as the Mission Impossible soundtrack resonates in the backgound...

Hopefully that’ll keep me safe.
For a week, at least.

In a bit of a bind

I had an awesome weekend. You know, one of those filled with lots and lots of…how do I keep this PG….erm, candy. It all started when I invited a certain miss K over for dinner on Friday night. Next thing we knew, it was Sunday afternoon and we were having breakfast in bed. I’m sitting in my office now grinning like an idiot consumed by thoughts of what went down (literally) last weekend. I need to purse my lips in a monumental display of self-restraint to avoid going into an explicit narrative every time someone asks me how my weekend was.

She's at least at least 6 years younger than me (or I?), but what a cutie. She’s hilarious, a major plus in my book; an insatiable hot-blooded tigress.

It's not all roses though. There’s just one itsy bitsy problem I conveniently ignored the whole weekend. To me, this is all just an entertaining anecdote to, for the most part, a lacklustre week. But it was obvious from the heart dangling off her sleeve, she wants more.

She looks and acts young. I mean ‘just hatched’ young. Her favourite musicians? Britney and N’Sync. In our severely intoxicated state we spent a good deal of time being shattered that Britney broke up with Justin. I’d rather donate my entire future income to preserve the blood sucking anopheles mosquito that plagues my every evening than talk about who those two are shagging these days.
But anyway, I indulged her.
I glossed over the fact that her dream destination is Disneyland (I’m thinking hell, who doesn’t like Disneyland, right?). I dig cartoons too, so no biggie there either, and well, the word ‘like’ has been known to make a home for itself when randomly infused into any part of a sentence: we were like there, and it was like so cold. And I was like “its cold” and she was like “yeah”. I even overlooked the Swatch watch - you know the one: colourful, plastic with the Mickey Mouse hour hand. But that’s all superficial right? Afterall it’s the hotness heart that counts…and she has a good heart, great personality and is very funny. And hot.

But I draw the line on the needy act. I will happily use a pair of tweezers to uproot every single pube from my Triangle of Joy than put up with a clingy person in love.

According to some online personality test, I suffer from the little known 'schizoid' personality disorder:

"People with schizoid personality disorder avoid relationships and do not show much emotion
(Man U nailed Chelsea's blue ass to the curb over the weekend. Did you not see that emotion?? )
Schizoids genuinely prefer to be alone and do not secretly wish for popularity.
(Alone. I vant to be alone. Too true).
They tend to seek jobs that require little social contact. (No wonder I hate my job)
Their social skills are often weak (Oi!) and they do not show a need for attention or acceptance. They are perceived by others as humorless (fine, I admit -my jokes are lame.) and distant and often are termed "loners." (yip). "

So thats me.
Schizoid meets clingy. Not good.

*Sigh*. It's been fun. Its going to seem like I used her, but I have to end this now. I will call her up tonight and find nice gentle words to tell her to take my number off the “call every hour on the hour” button and pray that all I hear is a series of four letter expletives, or better yet a slamming phone rather than a strained silence interrupted by the shrill *crack* of a breaking heart.

Hands up! Now step away from the computer...

I've had this PII for like what, 7 years now? Works great, no problemo. I don't tinkle with it, I don't buy new components, just threw in a CD writer extra RAM and then just let it be. It’s old and wheezes a little bit, but still keeps on chugging along just fine.
But guys? Nooooooo. You're always upgrading something or other. Off fixin' some part that is clearly not broken, or just opening it up for the hell of it. You all think you were born mechanics or electrical engineers.

Case in point, my kid brother has had my computer for all of 4 days, but then yesterday he calls to tell me that out of the blue it just went ‘poof’ and died.

It went poof?
Uh-huh.
What do you mean it went poof?
Huh? That’s the sound it made. I was trying to replace the fan unit.
And this is because....?
I was trying to fix the wheezing.
Gee, thanks. You sure fixed it alright. Consider yourself banned from the vicinity of my PC. Twat.

*edited to add:*
I apologise for my abuse of the word 'just' in those first two paragraphs. I'm just hungry.