Wednesday, 30 April 2008

Ginger and the Wolf II

Last, last Saturday Ginger called me, she wanted to go out. So off we went. I said I wanted to be home by 9pm, since I had to go to work early the next day and I was already extremely sleep deprived. I was home by nine. I was just about to go to bed and then Ginger calls me again. Before I go any further I would just like to clear up something: Wolf, is pretty much out of the picture, Young Wolf is in and from now on when I write Wolf I mean Young Wolf.

Gin - "Tambles!! HELP!! Wolf just called me and he's back from Tasmania and he's got a night before he goes to Sydney and he wants me to meet him at Uber! You have to come with me! I'm too nervous to go by myself!!! PLEASE!!!"

DeT - "Go out? Now?!?! But! It's already 11pm!! I was about to go to sleep!!!"

Gin - "Plllllleeeeeeaaaaaassssseee! I'll have you home by 1am! I PROMISE!!"

DeT - "Fine. 1am. Latest."

And so out we went again. To Uber, a club I hate! And we were there for an hour looking for Wolf. We couldn't contact him because Ginger's phone suddenly broke and he just wasn't texting back when we used my phone. In the end she gave up and we went home. Turns out he didn't show because he fell asleep. He said all his friends were really annoyed and when he woke up he had 47 missed calls. 47 calls in less than 8 hours... Dude is popular :-D

They met up for their first date last Wednesday. They didn't have sex. Though they did end up lying completely naked on his bed and apparently he is rather well endowed ;-)

She went over to his house again on Sunday night and yes, they shagged! So she did last until the 2nd date after all...

He's very nice she says. And rich. And gets sent around Australia for work. He's in Sydney right now. He hasn't had girlfriend in two years. He likes to go rock climbing and he lost his licence on Monday for drink driving. She tried to tell him that she is only 19, but she chickened out and said 20.

He used to be a drug lord...mainly cocaine....

Sunday, 27 April 2008

Death Is Waiting For Me

Hunk is sick and I feel sad. Worried even, though I'm not too sure what worry feels like. It's not something I've come across before and if this is what worry feels like, it sucks!

I talked to Him last night right before I went to bed and he really didn't sound good, even though he said he was going to be fine. I do believe him, I know he's going to be fine, it's not like he's at Death's door and yet I lay awake for ages thinking about him and when I finally slept I had terrible nightmares and woke up crying.
What's wrong with me? Usually when someone gets sick, my family, my friends, my boyfriends, I just shrug and go "yeah, that's nice, call me when you're better" and completely forget about it. Except this one time, He tells me he is a little sick and I turn into a useless mess. I've been so distracted I even showed up for work an hour early (GUG), I got a massive paper cut on my thumb and didn't realise until the blood started trickling along my hand and the entire day was tinged with a strange sadness and I was so unbelievably distracted!! Hardly a second went by when I wasn't thinking of him.

After my third screw up this morning my best friend Bee, who also happens to be one of my bosses turned to me and asked what the hell was wrong with me today. I told her He was sick and she stared at me incredulously "Wow, my little Tambling, you actually care about this boy. I've never seen you care about anyone, ever."

I hung my head. She's right, I've never ever ever ever cared about anyone else. Not once.

She grabbed my hand and I looked up at her and she smiled back at me, "You've really fallen hard, haven't you?"
I groaned and dropped my head onto the counter. Hard? That barely begins to describe it. I feel like I've been hit by a speeding bus, by a bullet train, by a comet with a millennia of force behind it! Every time I see him I gasp. There is never enough oxygen, my heart beats like it's about to explode within my ribs and I start to feel dizzy.

I'm never going to survive this. Look how I feel when he's a little bit sick. Imagine how I'm going to feel when we break up. Bee says I should cut and run now while I've still got a some sense left but I can't. I've fallen too hard, I don't know how to get up again.

Friday, 25 April 2008


Where oh where have the Blogren gone? It's already midday and there are no UBHH posts up? What's wrong with you all? Gah! I hope you all have massive hang overs and are suffering from head splitting headaches and severe nausea!

Tuesday, 22 April 2008


Maisha iko sawa na Trust.

A few years ago I saw a Trust condom ad and it blew my mind. Awesome! Sexy! Practically Orgasmic! Who ever thought up those ads, I'll give you the life of my firstborn.

I've seen a lot of sexually related things and I have to say that the Trust ads are my favourite!
Even though that Gothic picture book my friend Bee bought recently is excellent, it still will never replace Trust as my favourite thing.

The first Trust ad I saw was the Umbrella one. Can I just say, wow! It's so, and on the umbrella, and oh my god, so, so long...hmm mmm *giggles* Anyway...moving along. I saw the ad, it was sent my way by a forward email and I've been trying to find it again for a while. I had given up though, since I couldn't remember much about it and if you type condom ad into YouTube, well even I baulk at 1,820 results. Today, the song on the ad was playing on the radio and I got the lyrics, found the song and found the ad! :-D Ohhhhhh I am HAPPY! Not only have I got the ad but I found another two!!! If you don't suffer from 3rd World internet I suggest you go watch them! Even if you've seen them before, because I'm watching them for, oh, say the 123rd time and it's still, ya know ;-)

Water bottle.

I want to try Trust now. I don't know if they're any good but with an ad like that, I am SO there!! Can't get them in Australia. You can get them in Africa though, and I have always wanted to shag my way around the world. So, here's to saving some money and getting some Trust.

Good thing I'm turning 20 soon though. I was worried I'd run out of counting room on my fingers before 20 and frankly, that would look slutty :P

Monday, 21 April 2008

The Dalai Lama

Wednesday, 16 April 2008


Catching an outbound morning service Translink bus is by far the most entertaining time to travel by bus in Brisbane. Generally, in the early mornings an outbound bus it populated only by school children. Sleepy school children. Their uniforms freshly ironed, their hair often still unbrushed, their yawning faces puffy from sleep. The bus driver, taking full advantage of the sleepy, indifferent and often sulky cohort of children with no interfering, council complaining adults, goes on a mild power trip.

The usual rules a bus driver seems to adhere to on any other bus trip just disappear. After many years of catching Translink buses I have come to understand that the outbound morning service drivers are like no other. Gone are the quiet, civilized bus rides you can usually expect at any other time of day. In their place reside the species of the ‘school run’ driver. They live to speed! They come screeching to a halt in a cloud of smoking rubber. They run red lights. They laugh and tease you when you get on board, ‘Another day of prison?’ they leer, as you stare confusedly at them through bleary eyes. They play music at an ear pounding level, everything from Rammstein to opera and they sing along, loudly! They play games on their mobiles while they wait for a light to go green. They turn around in their seats and swear down at us and ask the closest students if they’re failing anything. And at a stunning speed the bus comes to a bone jarring, curb bumping halt and you tumble out, wide awake, ready for another day of ‘prison’ and secretly amazed you’re still alive.

These drivers are unique and are responsible with supplying schools with alert and adrenaline rushed children and sadly they’re only available on the outbound morning service. Any other time and they are the same sedate and rule abiding drivers of the day.

Monday, 14 April 2008

Ginger and the Wolf

Right you pushy lot!! Here's what happened:

NOTHING! Except some woman told me I was the most beautiful girl she had ever seen.
And as we walked away my friend said she only thinks that because of the way you look, if she knew you she'd never have said that. Why? Because according to my friend I could quite happily slit someone's throat and that makes me scary and evil, even though I do look gorgeous.

I'm afraid, Antipop, that there are no juicy details and the reason for this is because of what took place a few weeks before.

Ginger is 19 and has liked her boss, Wolf (37) for about eight months. A few times Wolf has driven her home and they've had a bit of a kiss but nothing impressive since he is actually unavailable. He also left work recently and so we all told Ginger that she had to find a new man to perve on. Of course she didn't listen to us and just as we had given up hope of ever distracting her with a new man, she finds one! We were out, dressed up nicely and watching Flamingo Crash playing at QPAC. Cheri, this is another band I know, I went to school with the drummer and dated one of it's former members, which is why I was there, being social. Ginger, Bee and I, sitting at a table, casually looking around and then Ginger spots him! He's tall and thin and has light brown hair, he almost looks like a young Wolf, except one crucial difference, he's only 33! The night wears on and we urge her (mainly me) to give him her number. She's a little chicken though and doesn't. Eventually I get so fed up I go outside and try to find a small amount of sanity by dialling my friend, his number has that annoying lady going 'this number is unavailable, please call again later'. I tried it again and got the same thing so I sat on the grass and listened to the accented lady until it cut out. Went back inside and finally, FINALLY Ginger worked up the courage to slip him her number. On a Chanel Allure perfume card, lucky him. She said text me, he said he would and smiled. And he did. They've been texting constantly for the past week and a half. This is why nothing of note happened on Friday, because she thought that she liked this new 'Young Wolf' better. Until about midnight on Friday when she texted me to say that she loved Wolf and was definitely going to drive over to his new work to see him and she was sad because she hadn't done anything with him because she was confused by the 'Young Wolf'. Though Wolf did kiss her and cuddle her as he was saying goodbye...

Now, Young Wolf. Ginger was supposed to see him early last week except she got blind drunk and threw up and had to leave the club before he got there. Idiot girl!! Then they were supposed to meet up on Saturday, but he didn't text back with the details so instead she came over here to watch Coupling with me and bitch. Turns out he was rock climbing until late. They're supposed to be meeting up tomorrow night, I hope they manage it!! She's also lied about her age, she's now 23, not 19. I wonder how that lie is going to go...

Gin - I'm not going to fuck him until the second date.
DeT - I wouldn't even wait for the first date to be over.
Gin - That's slutty.
DeT - Slutty? Well it wasn't me who shagged my friends boyfriend in a paddock.
Gin - That was one time!! And I want to get to know this guy, what if he turns out to be a total sleaze?
DeT - So maybe you should sleep with him and see, you know, road test.
Gin - Shut up DeTamble!
DeT - *smirks*

She may not be 'slutty' but she's not exactly shy about her body. The night we were watching Flamingo Crash and she gave him her number and I got that annoying 'phone is unavailable' message she got practically naked in public.

Streets Beach at Southbank, a very popular man-made beach, located in the 'Cultural' area of the City. We were walking back to the car after the band and there were some Poms swimming and we stopped to stare for a moment and they called us over and asked if we wanted some wine and if we'd go swimming with them. Of course we wanted wine! What a stupid question! And as if we wouldn't go swimming! We had no clothes for swimming though, not that it was ever going to be a problem. Dropped our bags, jackets, shoes, earrings and necklaces onto the sand and bomb dived! It was colder then I expected!! Had a great time until Ginger got too cold and asked me if we could go home. So out we got, gathered up our pile of dumped items and jumped back down onto the river board walk (I estimated our pile of stuff we just left by itself was easily worth over AUD$3000 and I'm not even counting the clothes we were wearing into the water). We were cold! Soaked, dripping water everywhere! I think our jeans must have taken half the water with them. So cold we stopped in the middle of the path, dropped our things and pulled our shirts and bras off. Don't worry, it was night time and it wasn't particularly crowded. Only six people saw our half nakedness as we struggled to pull dry jackets over wet skin. Some guy walked past and gave us the thumbs up and whistled. When we got to the car Ginger pulled all of her clothes off! Yep, butt-naked and standing next to her car (the street was pretty deserted), didn't even try to hide when a car drove past. Even I'm not that game. So I'm curious, if she's that open, is she going to make it to the second date with no sex?

Friday, 11 April 2008


I hate being obliged to do anything, such as now, where I'm going to a dinner party thingy. It's for our boss who has left us to go to another store. Can I just say that I do not fucking want to go and in actual fact I'd rather sit here on the computer till three am, yet again, reading about the history of Islam. Under normal circumstances I would have said NO because I'm an anti-social little cow, but this time I said yes, because if I don't go I run the very real risk of being beaten up by my friend! My friend, who is the only reason I'm going, is in love with the boss. She's 19 and he's 37. That's really not the point though, the main thing is he has a girlfriend who he's been with for a whole DECADE!!! 10 YEARS!!!! And she's FAT! and UGLY! and FUCKING FAAAAAAT! And a bitch! Last time my friend and I went out to a concert and they were there and we were ignoring them because it would be awkward if we went and said hi and she was evil eyeing us from like 40 meters away. Her and all her fat ugly friends were staring us down and we weren't doing anything! SHE TOTALLY HATES US! Mainly hates my friend but still I'm included because I'm my friends backup. Which is why I am going tonight, because my friend wants to tell our ex-boss that she wants to fuck him. And I have to go to hold her hand for courage.

I reckon she's going to chicken out and not tell him though and I'll have gone and it'll have been a waste of time. But because, surprisingly, I'm actually a good friend I will go and I wont berate her when she chickens long as she does it by 9:30 because I promised someone else I would go and watch his band play.

Why do I bother having friends? They always want me to do things and I just want to stay home and study!

Thursday, 10 April 2008


Got myself tagged by the Beauty.

So here goes…


1. Paper Delivery

2. Pizza kid at Domino's

3. Laser Babe

4. Checkout Chick, same as Laser Babe but different company, different name.


1. The Secret Garden

2. My Family and Other Animals

3. I Capture The Castle

4. Bend It Like Beckham


1. Australia

2. USA

3. Canada

4. Denmark


1. Coupling

2. My Family

3. The Good Life

4. The Chaser's War On Everything


1. Fingal Beach - Australia

2. Adelaide - Australia

3. Yellow Stone - USA

4. Italy


1. Noodles

2. Juice

3. Sushi

4. Milkshake with Pearl (Bubble Tea)


1. In Bed with Him

2. On the floor with Him

3. Against a tree with Him

4. Arguing with Him







Tuesday, 8 April 2008

The Art Teacher

My Dad is dead, or so they say. I haven’t seen him in many days. He use to be here but now he’s gone, where to, I do not know. He signed my passport application when I was three and then he walked away and I’ve never seen him since. Is he dead or has he just left? I’ve wasted many days wondering where he is. The older I got the more I thought of him, but now, after so many years I don’t think I care. I don’t care where he is and I don’t care who he is and yet whenever I hear him mentioned I always stop to listen.

They say I look just like him, they say I speak the same, they say I draw like him. I don’t know, I can’t remember him. I don’t know what he looks like or how he sounds and I’ve never seen his drawings. I use to ask about him, I wanted to see him in my mind, but I could never get the image quite right. I don’t even know his real name. I do know his adopted name. I tried to find him once, but Missing Persons said there were no recent records of him, not even a tax return.

My Mum always said he wanted to go ‘underground’, I guess he managed it. His friends think he is dead, except one of them, who says he saw him walking through Rundle Mall last week. I know I don’t care anymore though, even if I do stop to listen to them speak.

Monday, 7 April 2008

Blog Is Becoming A Burns Ward

UPDATE: I'm fine now, it's faded away, though it still stings to touch.


I got burnt. Something acidic came into contact with my cheek. No fear though, it isn't bad, it just stings like crazy! I spent a while discussing with my friends what it could be and what I should do. Our conclusions were thus:

I touched something at work and brushed my face without realising or I got bitten by some strange acid bug. Personally I think it was something at work. Whatever it was it's stopped burning into my skin now and is looking much better, even though it still stings badly :-(

What should I do? Should I just keep it extra clean and apply every single cream I own or should I go to the Doctors? What if I've caught some flesh eating virus? Well, the friend who mentioned the flesh eating virus was stared down and told not to speak again.

She didn't shut up though and the conversation was brought to an abrupt halt after her next comment.

"Maybe you should put some cum on your face, I've heard it's really good for skin."

I've also heard that this is true and apparently you can pay a months wage to buy anti-ageing skin cream that contains semen, which were all probably supplied by seamen.

I almost laughed at her, but she did have a point. Cum is the way to go for all things skin related. So, Comrade, you're quite seedy. Care to spare?

Saturday, 5 April 2008

Watch Out: The Road Burns!

I don't know quite what to write, all I can think of is the searing pain in my finger. Never mind what I did to it, just suffice to say that it is bleeding, don't worry though, I can't see the bone this time. My job is affectionately known as slaving, because we are paid an absolute pittance to stand for long hours lifting heavy items, being yelled at by ignorant customers who can't read price tags and having our hands torn apart and from time to time our legs and feet cut and covered by glass shards. Comrade, if you dare mention anything about Capitalism the West or the fact that I don't really work hard I'm going to stab you in the eye with my bleeding finger! I know I have it loads better then most of the world but if you comment anything nasty about this post I'll have you dragged in front of the other Revolutionaries for a formal hand comparison and let me tell you right now I wont be the one with the sweet, soft hands of a bourgeois.

I stared at the line of disgruntled customers, I couldn't close my register without getting into a lot of trouble. So I groped under the register for the piece of duct tape I knew was stuck there, wiped most of the blood onto my skirt and stuck my skin back together with the tape. I know, it's not the most intelligent thing to do but I was desperate and it worked okay, I stopped dripping blood and I didn't have to stop working. I'm glad the customers didn't notice, they were talking and I covered it up quick. It's bad enough I had to see it, I don't think they needed to see too. I pulled an emo and swung my hair in front of my face so that no one could see the tears. I'm not too sure how to get the duct tape off now without ripping my finger open again. Maybe I'll just leave it on until it stops being sticky and slides off by itself.

I tried to distract myself from the pain by thinking of something else, didn't really work though since all I could think of was other times I'd been hurt. Like the time I got hit by a car. Don't worry though, it wasn't bad. I didn't break anything and I didn't get flung across the road and I also didn't tell anyone. So Mum, I know you read my blog from time to time and so if you're reading this post, let me assure that this entire next section is a total lie and I was never hit by a car and it certainly wasn't on my bike and I definitely didn't hide it from you or lie about it. In fact I've never lied to you about anything I've done...and since we both know that isn't true I suggest that you should stop reading, NOW!

The roads here get very hot during summer, hot enough to fry an egg. I know, because I've tried. I also know that they get hot enough to make your feet blister if you spend more then a couple of seconds standing on them. I never used to wear shoes and so every time I had to cross a road I would race across it and bound onto the grass on the other side and jump up and down to try to cool them. I found that if I had to cross too many roads in a day I would have burnt my feet enough to blister them. So when I used to get home in the evening and I would sometimes crawl around the floor it wasn't because at ten I still wanted to be a dog, it was because my feet were burnt. Because of the heat of the road I was always terrified of getting hit by a car. Actually, I was only terrified of getting hit by a car in summer. Any other time of year and I wouldn't have cared so much. I was scared that I would be so badly burned by the road if I was lying on it that the burns would be worse than anything the car could do.

I was partially right. One day I was riding my bike down the hill and a car came speeding out of a drive way. Neither of us saw each other until it was too late. We crashed into each other and the bike and I went flying over the boot of the car. The bike landed on a fence and I landed on the road. The car was fine. My shirt had been pulled up and I was lying on my side, bare skin on the road. I can't have been there for long because by the time the pain hit me the driver had only just opened his door. I was burning, on the road! I'm telling you I've never moved so fast in my life! The second I realised that the pain wasn't related to my cuts but was actually because I was being burnt I was up and off the ground! The poor driver, he was so shocked, me though, I was more worried about the road. The burning was worse then the ripped skin, the gravel or the blood. Poor driver was staring at me hopelessly and I was staring at my side, I hadn't even noticed my cuts, it was the burn I was worried about.

Long story short I insisted I was okay and asked him to lift my bike of the fence so I could ride home. He offered to drive me home but I needed time to think. My mother would have freaked out!!! There was no way in hell I was going to tell her what had happened, she'd never let me ride my bike again! Or leave the house. Took a long time to get home. The bike was pretty much fine, pedal was a little bent but I was shaking too badly to ride it so I walked it. I was a very sneaky child. If you're an only child and you do as many stupid things as I did you get used to hiding things from you parents. It's not like you can blame something on your sibling and there's no back up child in case you die. I didn't want them to worry and I didn't want to be banned from doing things. So I would hide most of my scratches under clothes and just not mention anything.

This time was hard though, I'd never been hurt like this before. I got home and snuck around the side of the house. Left the bike and my dented helmet where they couldn't be seen and tiptoed up the back stairs. The aim was to get to the bathroom, take the tweezers, tea tree oil and band aides to my room without Mum realising I was in the house. I had to hide behind a door for a while, waiting for her to leave a room so I could get to my bedroom with the stuff.
I stripped off my clothes and wiped up the blood, picked out some gravel, bathed every cut with diluted tea tree. I won't describe the way I looked, just know that there was a lot of blood and the skin was hanging off in places. Then out came my emergency clothes, I was well prepared for situations like this, though this was by far and away the worst. For arm cuts I had a thread bare jumper and for leg cuts, an old pair of shorts which were a little longer then any of my other ones and covered my knees. I put a few band aides on my leg and on my fingers and one on my cheek. Every thing else was covered by clothes and this way I could say I fell off my bike and the damage didn't look too bad.

It was only my right side that was hurt so I tried to keep that part of my body turned away from her as much as possible for the next few days. I didn't change my clothes either because I didn't have anything else that would cover as well. It was hard to keep it up though, every time she would touch me I wanted to cry. My sweater rubbed against the burn, it was bad, it was bright red and it blistered very painfully. I went through an entire container of paw paw cream trying to keep it from scarring. I developed an addiction to children's Panadol too, I drank the entire bottle within two days and then pretended to have a bad headache so she would go and buy some more. I completely got away with it and was back riding within a few days, she didn't find out, she didn't yell and I didn't get into trouble for doing something as stupid as getting hit by a car. And I found out I was right to be scared of the road. Sometimes I thought I should have told her but she would have been so angry and she wouldn't have been as careful cleaning my cuts as I was and I know I would have been banned from leaving the house for a long, long time and definitely no bike. And it was good practise for when I had to hide the bruises from falling out of the tree six months later. I think I actually broke a rib that time... didn't tell her about that either, not that it would have mattered. Not much you can do for ribs and I tied myself up pretty well and anyway, I hated sitting in the hospital emergency room. Soooo boring!!