Friday, 28 March 2008

The British Commonwealth

CHOGM: Sounds Like Someone Clearing Their Throat.

Thursday, 27 March 2008

Welcome Home My Bed

Take a moment of your day and read this!

My boyfriend of a year and a half is moving out. I am elated. The BED, soon, it will be all mine! Mine to stretch out on, mine to sleep diagonally on, mine to roll around on and get tangled in the covers on a hot night. MINE, ALL MINE! His stuff will be gone, all his clothes and his guitar and his mess will be out! No one there to ask me at 5am why I'm so late coming to bed.

Where was I at 5am? No where bad, just here chatting with my friends. At 5AM?! Yes, at 5am. They be in another time zone, so no, my Australian friends and I don't all stay up till 5am to chat to each other. Why would I want to chat to them that early, like I don't spend enough time spooning them as we all crowd into the same bed when we're wasted or drugged. I'm on more then intimate terms with them, don't really feel the need to chat online as well.

It's official though, my boyfriend and I are breaking up. Ahh, the sweet sound of a relationship cracking. No hard feelings, we both knew it was coming. Surprised we lasted this long. Not that it wasn't helped by the fact that I have the most horrendous crush on someone else. Shhh though, don't tell my boyfriend that. It's my secret, well, it was, now though, it is a blog secret.

I think the people around us are going to take our breakup worse then we are. They think we're the cutest couple ever. We've been officially voted the best couple by our work colleagues. And they are right, we are good together, we're great together but there is something missing.

The raw passionate love, the lust, the fire, the anger, the pleasure! Heated explosive emotions, that's what I need!

He can't muster them, no matter though, because I know someone who can and he will be mine soon. And I'm going to shag him till he can no longer see, can no longer walk, can no longer breathe.

Just have to wait for my boyfriend to leave.

Wednesday, 26 March 2008

The Big Day

Den Store Dag! I love this movie! I got it when I was in Denmark, it's corny and so lovely. I rarely watch it though. It sits on the shelf, next to Doctor Who, Coupling, My Family, Kundun and Round The Twist. Then the longing hits. I miss Denmark, I don't know why, it wasn't that amazing and yet I miss it all the same. I can't pin exactly what it is I miss, but it's something, something which makes me sad knowing I don't have it. Confusing thing. Maybe it's the language, or the brisk air against my face. Either way, I miss it and so I cuddle up on the couch and watch Den Store Dag or The Julekalender or Rejseholdet or I call my ex just to hear him speak for a while. Gah, I'm so hopeless sometimes.

Hansi, even though du har de største tænder og det grimmeste tøj, you're still my favourite!

Three Funeral Sausages

Home made flotation device – $3.50
Hosting the death BBQ in your pool – priceless.

Saturday, 22 March 2008

Perfect Day

I tend to be reasonably happy. In fact the past few days have been a blur with happiness and I've suffered from an insatiable need to smile. I crashed though, suddenly, in a split second and now I feel dead. I just want to bow my head and let tear drops fall onto the keyboard. I wont though. I'll watch the ghost gum leaves shudder in the wind and try to drag myself back.

Friday, 21 March 2008

Double Digits, Again.

I'm watching my youngest cousin on the webcam. She says she can't believe I am turning 20 this year. I say I can't believe she is already 11. Time is moving too fast, I wish it would slow down.
She talks to me quite a lot, apparently I'm her favourite. Not that I need her to tell me that, since obviously I'm her favourite. As if DeTamble isn't everyone's favourite cousin. Not that I ever see them. Maybe that's why I'm the favourite because I can't tarnish my image with too much familiarity. My family has scattered itself across the continent and we ignore each other. Don't even send Christmas cards. We are antisocial. We're still here though, if one of us needs something. We're backup. The hidden troops.

I still can't believe that 11 years has gone so quickly, I still remember looking down at her and thinking what big heads babies have. Now my littlest cousin is becoming a beautiful young woman. We'll be beating the boys off with a large stick. Quick Daddy, grab your gun, they're back AGAIN!


EDIT: Now she just told me it was me who explained what wanking was to her. Oh fuck. WHY did I tell her what it meant?

Wednesday, 19 March 2008

Time and Ice

There were two boys. They were both breathtakingly beautiful. They were both tall and thin and toned. With the handsome square shoulders some men are blessed with. One I served at work and I tried my hardest not to blush when he smiled at me. The second was on the bus home and as he stared at the world streaming past the window I stared at him.

He was so dark, the rest of the world paled into nothingness in comparison. So dark, so bold, so present. So present I was sure nothing had ever existed before him and that nothing could exist after him. So present he looked like time itself. His eyes were pitch black, like looking into a never ending abyss. I could have fallen for ever. All the beauty of the world was wrapped up inside him. Oh, and his hair, how I wish I could touch his tightly curled hair, so different from my own, so tempting.

I walked past him and he looked up at me with ice cold eyes. His ethereal beauty caught me off guard. His lips were like soft pink rose petals. His skin was fairer then mine, though he also had the same few small, dark freckles across his nose and cheeks. His hair was blond though his eyebrows were as black as mine. I found him gorgeous. His eyes, his skin, he looked like a ghost. Like he shouldn't be here, like he was in the wrong world. He held everything unseen in his eyes. The secrets of the universe lay hidden under the clear impenetrable ice. I wanted to touch him, he looked so forbidden. I wanted to kiss him.

I half thought he would feel like ice under my lips.

Sunday, 16 March 2008

My Patriotic Wound

One of the wounds/graze/cut/hurty bit is shaped like Australia. I'm not joking, it really really is! Not only is it shaped like Australia but it has bits of gravel still stuck in the skin. Stuck just where the capital cities are along the east coast. There's Cairns, Brisbane, Sydney, Canberra, Melbourne, Adelaide and Tasmania has an entire gravel piece to itself. With this much patriotism residing in just one palm I think I should be elected Prime Minister.

You need to watch these dancing kids. The red nut and his sister and the three Afri kids are hilarious! Don't argue, just go watch it. Now! Go! CLICK!

Saturday, 15 March 2008

The Fat Bitch Needs A Heartattack!

I was walking to the bus stop to go to work and I blacked out. Next thing I know I'm centimetres from the ground and so I fling my hands out and kind of commando roll on to my side. Sometimes I black out. I don't know why, it just happens, however this is only the second time I've blacked out and fallen. Well it wasn't really a fall, more of a drop. I lay on my back in the grass for a while and laughed at myself and then I got up and kept walking. I glanced at my palms, they were a little scraped but nothing bad. I could just wash them when I got to work. Walked about 100m and then my palms really started to sting. Looked at them again, properly this time. Eurgh. I wish I hadn't. They'd started bleeding, the skin was torn and hanging off in shreds. Ewww and there was gravel in them. The blood started trickling. So I came home. There's no way I can work with my hands like that.

I got home and called work. They didn't believe me. They thought I was lying to get out of work. The supervisor actually transferred me to the manager, who yelled at me. The fat bitch said I was just trying to get out of work and point blank refused to believe that I hurt myself. Did I mention she was yelling? Then she slammed the phone down on me. I HATE HER!

She's lucky I called in sick. If I had shown up bleeding and useless they aren't allowed to send me home because of the weird laws. SO they would have had to pay me as well as the person they called in to cover my own work. I would probably have walked around for 8 hours putting things back on shelves. ARGH I HATE HER! I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE WOULDN'T BELIEVE ME!! SHE'S SUCH A COW! I even wanted to go to work today, for the social aspect, not the work aspect, obviously. Also really need the money. I hope she suffers a fatal heart attack and dies a painful death!

This is the same lady who accused another girl of being a drug addict for being 10min late to work and she also accused the Perishables manager of drug dealing. She made the girl go to the police to get a urine test. She's such a bitch. I can't wait to quit. I've never had to work with such fat backstabbing cow. I want her dead. Anyway I'm off to vote now. I don't even know what this election is for, maybe the council? Or the Mayor? Whatever, I'll pick the best looking one so at least when I have to look at their face on the news every other day I wont gag.

PS. Turns out the fat bitch has already had a heart attack, she's still here though. Grrrr.

Friday, 14 March 2008

Fat Pizza

I just saw December Boys. It was really good, very sad ending, well sad and happy. Still made me cry though. I wanted to wrap myself up in a sleeping bag with my head under the covers and cry for a while. Instead I came to the computer and was greeted by this from my Danish ex-bf.

Workers Revolution

Your name is [CENSORED]?

I catch the bus everywhere, except those rare times I can scam a lift off someone. I like to record the racial demographic of the bus. Why? Well, why not? It's something to do and I am actually very interested in how Brisbane's multiculturalism is coming along. Yes 27th, Brisbane, aren't you a smart lil' cookie. Today's bus demographic: 1/2Asian, 1/4White and 1/4 mix of Indian, Middle Eastern and African. The bus driver was Maori. He was cool, had a gold earring and had the radio on very loudly! It was fantastic.

I went to my first Social Sciences in Australia lecture and tutorial class today and it was AWESOME! There's about 230 people in the lecture. We're studying Karl Marx, Emile Durkheim and Max Weber. We watched a Charlie Chaplin film called 'Modern Times' (1939) which was strange and surprisingly very funny. I wonder if it's one youtube... and it is, click here. I can finish watching it now! :D Score! The lecturer was talking about how disconnected people are from one another and from our own histories. She asked us to put our hands up if we we had ancestors from blah blah blah (list of countries) I could put my hand up to French, English, Irish, Scottish, Danish and Spanish. She asked us our Sun signs, turns out there are a lot of Capricorns taking this subject. For the record I'm a Leo. Lots more questions and also it turns out I am living below the Australian poverty line. What an enjoyable realisation that was. The point of all the hand raising was to make us realise how many connections there were between us that we had never even thought of. There were 7 Leos including me and 10 of us live below the poverty line.

In the tutorial I was in the Workers Revolution group and we had to decide what we would do as poor workers who were now in charge of our country. What laws would we make etc. etc. Turns out our ideas were the best she'd ever heard and she's been teaching this class for over a decade. Isn't my group smart :P

I think I prefer Marx to Durkheim, he was more of a 'shout out' guy whereas Durkheim walked along the line of 'let it be'.

Charlie Chaplin, I never use to like him but I'm watching Modern Times as I write this and he freakishly reminds me of my gay friend Michael. Or he would do if Charlie Chaplin was French Vietnamese. Charlie just poured salt all over his food. Gawd. Also, most of the people in my tutorial have a cat and none of us have dogs. The lecturer/tutor was quite surprised and a little weirded out.


Thursday, 13 March 2008

Every Me and Every You

Do you know that song by Placebo? Sometimes you find a song that describes your mood, or in this case your personality. "Someone to bruise and leave behind." - that's me. I'm not the one left behind though, I'm always the one who leaves. Again and again. A trail of broken hearts bleeding behind me. I can't help it, I'm a serial heart breaker. Why do boys fall so hard? Maybe I deceive them by looking small and adorable. Perhaps the sweet look hides the evil too well. I hope I meet my match one day, someone who can hurt me as badly as I can hurt them. Perhaps then I can call a truce with that person, maybe it'll break the cycle.

Speaking of evil, my friends think I am. I'm the cemetery child. The Devil incarnate. They say I'm cold hearted, have no heart, am made of ice or stone. I've even been told I have no soul, though that was by some lady who was trying to get me to convert to some born again faith and I told her I'd rather fuck the Devil.

The cemetery child. Picture a horror movie style thing. There's a young girl standing in the dark, possibly in a cemetery. She has long light hair and cold blue eyes, pretty though, even cute. Until she looks at you and smiles and open her small sweet mouth and as she speaks you can feel your blood turn to ice and every fibre of your being wants to turn around and run for your life. You look into her eyes for just a moment and you know that you're about to die. Well according to my friends I am that girl. Only sometimes though, just sometimes. Apparently sometimes I get a strange look in my eyes or I say something that freaks them out. I don't do it on purpose, it just happens and they're like 'stop it DeTamble! It's really scary!' *rolls eyes* They're such whimps.

Or maybe it's true.

My mum once told me that before I was born she had an extremely intense and realistic dream that I was the Devil. I'd just like to publicly say thank you mummy, for putting me at such ease.

Or maybe I'm completely normal and my friends and my mother's imaginations are just too active and boys hearts are just too easily damaged. Well, alright I am a little cold hearted but I'm not evil. They're just silly.

Now for what I actually had in mind for this post:

People shouldn't be allowed to spray deodorant on the bus! Especially men. Perfume is acceptable but deodorant is not. Why? Because it stinks! I'm sitting 3m away and I can smell it and it's yuck! I couldn't smell you before so obviously you didn't stink before. Spray your deodorant before you get on the bus so it has a chance to subside! STINKFACE!

Simon, you're a nice guy, just with a huge flaw. Desperate begging. I'm so glad you weren't on my bus this morning.

There were three white South Africans on the bus this afternoon. They were oozing white superiority. I just wanted to slog them. Smarmy, pale, rugby short wearing filth. The blond freckly one was the worst. He acted like a snooty little prince, looking down upon everyone else with disdain. You should have heard the conversation! Sexism anyone? All I was thinking was that I wish I was in charge of Australia's immigration because then their visas would never have been approved and they wouldn't have been allowed at my university and I wouldn't have had to have put up with them on my bus.

Also, I have renamed my freckles, I was slightly intoxicated at the time. My freckles are no longer to be called my freckles, they have been re-christened 'my Africa spots'. They're cute too.

Absolute Shite

I'm nearing the end of my journal. This is my 6th journal I think. I tend to write a lot. A lot of shit actually. Before I close it's worn pages and place it at the back of my closet with all my other journals I thought I'd transfer some of it onto my blog. So that I can read my preferred parts without having to delve back into the dark spidery depths of that closet.

Landcare Australia spends $4billion pa. on pulling out weeds.

Vengeance is a lazy form of grief.

Beppe Grillo - Vaffanculo Day.

Alek Wek is a hot Sudanese model.

What are planagles?

May Zeus strike you down with his shiny bolts of lightning!

Bow down before the power that is Santa or be crushed by his Jolly Boots of Doom!

What's with saying 'cya' and 'bye' straight after?

Zibubbly now in Zipink - Zibibbo Rosa.

Hospitals have a name for people who ride motorcycles without helmets, they're called 'Donorcylces'. Charming.

Saw a lizard eating a dead magpie - 30th of October 2007.

RIP Liep Gony.

Pronto Condoms

At this rate he could launch his own series - Jaz on Osama Bin Laden about his televised rants.

Rambo IV was murder porn.

Alex - DeTamble
TAG! You're mine! 2day is national CLAIM A RETARD DAY so you're my retard! Hurry and tag as many retards as you can. No tag backs! 4:26pm 25th of July 2007 (it was a text)

Tom to DeTamble: You look like a stoned rabbit. Sometimes you look like a normal stoned rabbit and sometimes you look like a were-rabbit. (Yes, I know. What the hell is he talking about?)

I think that one lecturer to 359 students is fine, sort of intimate.

The Rosetta Stone.

610AD 1st revelation of Qur'an.

Sometimes I write down things my friends are saying, I sort of transcribe our conversations as we talk...yeh, I'm a freak. My friends and I were talking about sex, because it's an hilarious topic.

A does not care about the colour (of a vibrator), she just wants to get off. I would rather a black one, I like the colour contrast.
T said that at Sexpo one could probably find an anal probe the goes right to the back of the teeth. (yep, kind of gross, we yelled at him)

The way my friends and I settle arguments and so does most of the worlds political leaders apparently. Whoever gets in first and is loudest is always right.

Weirdest pick up line we created: You're cuntastic, wanna come home with me? *sleazy wink and maybe a slight eyebrow waggle*

It was decided that T as the only boy in the group is the wang bearer.
T - I bear the wang says I, the bearer of the wang.

Also whenever someone says something incredibly stupid which surprisingly isn't that often. I guess because it has to be stupider then most of the things we says and we have set a very low bar, this is what happens. We turn as one upon the person who said the stupid thing and yell "Ding! Ding! Ding! (like a wrestlers bell) You've been BRIETARDED!"

Obviously anyone reading this post wont understand anything written here because you're probably not as insane as I am. Though I did try to write some explanations for the normal amongst you.

Here's some random things that I was going to post about and then never did and just saved them into the same draft:

T talking to me:
T - I'm going to go play war games and shoot a few people, it's okay though, I think they're Russian.
Me - Russian, yeah that's okay...You know it would be even better if they were American!
T - Actually, I think we're the Americans.
Me - Oh, damn.
T - I have shot a few of my own men though, accidentally.
Me - Good, good, take them down from the inside.

I've just sorted out 1,052 pay slips. I've been in the same job for far, far too long. I'm looking for another.

I remember when I was in the beginning of highschool and every Tuesday night I would rush into the sitting room to watch Malcolm in the Middle. Fuck Yeah! You're not the boss of me now and you're not so big. I loved it!

As a leaving note.

Boobs that art in heaven, hallowed be thy bust.

I'll be back.

Did you just say damn?

ANWAY, like I said I'll be back with the thing I was actually going to post.

Tuesday, 11 March 2008

Lego World

Even at a tender age I wanted to rule the world. Lego is God.

Sunday, 9 March 2008

Text, Sex and Booze

Ummmm, hmmm, errrr, gah. I've never felt less like blogging in my life but as Cheri said I really should write something. Simon, the Sudanese. Nice guy, very interesting, I really enjoyed talking to him. Learnt a lot. Also met a member of the Sudanese Australia Soccer Team. One thing though. And this is a big thing. Simon, is DESPERATE! To have a girlfriend or to get laid, in fact both. I have a boyfriend. I was very very clear that if we spent any time hanging out that it was FRIENDS ONLY! He tried to kiss me, several times. It's just not cool to do that.

Simon and I sitting on a couch arguing about Hilary vs. Obama. Then he tries to kiss me. We weren't even sitting close. He had to move several feet. I pushed his face away and told him that it wasn't okay to do that. Continue talking. He tries again. He was harder to push away this time so, knowing that most guys are ticklish, I tickled him. He squealed like a little girl and moved away very fast. He said sorry and hoped that he hadn't scared me. I said if he had scared me I would have left. Normally, in a strange house with a strange man who wouldn't stop trying to kiss me and obviously wanted more I would have felt scared. But I didn't, in fact I was actually trying not to laugh. He was really desperate to get laid, I was seriously amused. In fact the third time he tried to kiss me I almost laughed in his face. Except I was getting annoyed so I pushed him away really hard and said, yet again, that I was not sleeping with him BECAUSE I HAVE A BOYFRIEND AND BECAUSE I JUST MET YOU and that the only way he was going to get laid was if he raped me and then I slammed my fingernail into his throat and dragged it across as hard as I could (it left a nice mark) and said that if he tried I would rip his throat out with my teeth and then I smiled sweetly at him and took my finger off his throat. He didn't try to kiss me again. I sent him a text message later on telling him not to call me. I'm a little sad about it because he was really interesting and I did like him, especially his dark skin and cute cheeks and mattress hair. I wanted to learn more about him. But he screwed up by being so desperate and kind of begging. You just don't do that to someone you just met. He should have gotten to know me, gained my trust, waited for me to fall for him. But he didn't and so he lost all chance.

About the throat mutilation, yes, I am aware that threatening to bite someone's throat out Rambo/werewolf style isn't a normal. But I really wanted to! I was actually a little disappointed he didn't try something a little more forceful because I really, really, really wanted to see if I could actually rip someone's throat out with my teeth. It wasn't personal, I didn't want to hurt him I just wanted to see if I could do it. No I'm not into vampires or anything like that. The idea just came to me one day as a good defence, since it's not something most people would be expecting. Oh well, some other time perhaps.

I got really drunk on Thursday and didn't have any mushrooms because I didn't think it was a good idea to mix drugs. Apparently I am a cemetery child. More on that later though.

Tuesday, 4 March 2008


Yesterday I met a boy at a bus stop, well man actually. He's 29. He asked how old I was, I told him and then I asked how old he was. He said guess. I guessed mid 30s. I think I offended him slightly. He does look old though, I was being polite when I said 30s, I was really thinking 40s. He said he's stressed. He said he's studying a Masters in International Relations. I told him I was also studying International Relations. We chatted. He offered to be a sort of mentor if I needed any help or another point of view. He was nice. He had one white hair on his head. I remembered when my daddy used to make me pull out his white hairs and we would laugh and wonder if seven more would grow in their place. The International Relations man asked me for my number, I gave it to him, he gave me his. We organised to hang out on Thursday so that we could argue our different political, moral and religious views. We got on the bus and chatted a bit more. He's from Sudan and sometimes I can't understand what he says but mostly it was fine. He got off much earlier then I did and I realised I was actually shaking slightly. Was it an adrenaline rush or did he make me really nervous? I don't know, though I didn't feel nervous. He said he'd call on Thursday to arrange exactly where to meet. I don't know if he will call but I would like it if he did.

Sunday, 2 March 2008

To My Mother:

Mother, my friend. You infuriate me sometimes. Like this morning, when you said you would drive me to work. I was supposed to be there are 9am remember? Do you remember what you did at 8:55am, when we should have left 10 minutes earlier? You wrote a shopping list, a long one. I was 15minutes late. I appreciate you driving me, but in future please remember that I lose money if I am late.

Money I need!

Every time my mother walks into my room she goes "Ohhhh, DeTamble" in a way that sounds like I've deeply disappointed her. Apparently my room is a little on the messy side. I like it, it's much easier to find things when they're all laid out on the floor before you. My mothers room is sparklingly neat, mine has spider webs, of which I am very fond. She thinks that if she continues to go "Ohhhh, DeTamble" that I will finally cave in a clean my room. It's not going to happen. What might happen though is that I snap and kill her! My mother makes me very angry sometimes. In fact more angry then anyone else makes me, well, except for that one other person who makes me clench my teeth and feel the urge to slap. Of course I wont slap them, I can't reach anyway, and I wont kill my mother. I will use what little self control I have and instead choose to annoy her by playing a song she doesn't like over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over until she comes storming in and tells me to turn it off. Which I do, and I smile to myself and look forward to the day when I will flee.

My boyfriend just came home as I was about to post this. I haven't seen him since early Friday, he went to his friends 30th birthday party. He came in and we hugged for a long time. This was our conversation.

Me: You have fun?
Him: Yes, didn't really want to come home actually.
M: I didn't want you to come home either. It was nice being alone.
H: I only thought about you twice, for a few minutes.
M: Twice? Me too. I didn't miss you at all.
H: Me neither.
M: I was enjoying the bed all to myself as well.
H: I thought you would.
M: It's alright though, that you're back, I've been cold at night.
H: I love you.
M: I love you too.

Actually, I think I will miss our relationship when we part ways. I enjoy my selfishness.