Sour Fruit, Interior Decorating and Sleeping Bags

Dear readers,
If you have not already realised this; I am completely and utterly insane.
So bear with me ...



Let's start with Friday night.

As usual on a Friday night, I had work til 9. And my housemate R came to pick me up with our friend Mickey (he is a little bit in love with her; yet will happily substitute her for groping me when she's not around... a behavhiour I DO NOT encourage); after work. I ended up finishing at 10 (crazy night at work + overly keen supervisor who still asks me how to run the place = late finish)... YET... being the lovely person I am I decided to still go out and have a drink with them.
"Just one," I thought to myself.
So we went to a club and waited in the line.
Mickey told us that his friend worked there and would get us in.
Fifteen minutes we were still standing out in the fucking cold; and then his friend (Sour Fruit) rang us and said that him and another of Mickeys friends (we shall call him The Short One) were on their way to another club.
So after about a second of considering just staying in the unmoving line we decided to trek on and go somewhere else.
"Just one drink, then I'll go home," I thought to myself again.
Half an hour later we were sitting in the upstairs of the club; knocking back our drinks with a little too much enjoyment.
I was pretty keen to dance a little and go home; so I could rest up and be beautiful for work the next day.

Then... R, Mickey AND The Short One all decided to bail. So I was left there with an increasingly drunk Sour Fruit.
"Fuck it," I said to myself, "I can just ditch him in a bit and get a cab home."
So we decided to go to my favourite club ever; the gay club (which will henceforth be known as Square).

And so we wandered a couple of blocks to Square; got drinks and took to the poles.
Approximately five seconds after we'd got to the dancefloor - the cops came in.
And shut down the club.
Needless to say I was SHITTING myself.
Not only was I totally underage.
I was with a guy I barely new (albeit a nice one); who was taller than everyone else by about a head, shirtless and quite loudly drunk.

Good.

After being drug-sniffed (by dogs... not the cops... sadly, as I quite like a sexy man in uniform) and videod half an hour later we were are allowed to leave.

At this stage it was about 2am.

"I'll go home soon..." I said to myself.

Then we went to some more clubs. And being a bartender, Sour Fruit knew EVERYONE in the existence of everwhere. Which basically just means free drinks. So basically - half my conversations went from well meaning brush offs ...

ME : I'm having so much fun, but I should really go; I have work in the morning...

to this...

SOUR FRUIT : Aww but I just got us more drinks...

ME : Okay... I guess... But after these ones I better go...

Also included in my night was almost getting thrown up on by a hundred drunk chicks dressed up in the most hideous tie-dyed outfits ever (I maintain it was the sight of eachothers clothes and not alcohol that made them need to vom...), getting told to 'be careful of Sour Fruit' by a girl dressed up as a cat (including ears, tail and nose) and Sour Fruit himself dragging me into a bus stop on our way past the interchange and lecturing me on the topic of true love and that it exists etc, for half-a-freaking-hour!
So one club led to another and I ended up getting home at 5:30.

All in all I got almost an hour and a half of beautiful luxurious sleep.
And let me tell you... and hour and a half of sleep is not nearly enough for someone to work an entire shift on.
Not even CLOSE!

Another beautiful thing about my car...  in this weather... apart from my starter motor going at the same time as my clutch and the cold weather not helping either... MY HEATING IS FUCKED >:(   >:(    >:(

This means that I cannot heat myself up, nor can I defogify my windscreen. HELLO! driving along in the cold, wet and rain with my windows down and windscreen wipers flat-chat so I can attempt to see out the front. Just forget about seeing through my rear windscreen... or the side windows for that matter.

Seeing as it is so cold, and my heating is so... well... nonexistant... I have resorted to an awful, awful means of keeping warm.

Ladies and gents, I must from now on; drive whilst in my sleeping bag.
It actually works suprisingly well.
I just unzip the bottom so I can actually press down my barely there clutch and brakes and touchy-as-fuck accelorator, and hey presto, instant warmth.

However, I'm pretty sure that driving around in the stylish purpley-blue sack of warmth has seriously damaged my street cred (ha ha ha...)... That is to say that I'm fairly certain a large percentage of the people who see me in or around my car assume that I
a) live in it
b) am a total bum
c) a crack whore
and probably d) can't even afford a sleeping bag that zips up at the bottom...

Well... desperate times DO lead to desperate measures...




On a slightly more positive note... I am FUCKING KEEN FOR FRIDAY NIGHT. I am not (for once) going out clubbing.I am in fact going to a friend's joint 18th (which is about 6 months overdue and should therefore be about 6 times more awesome than it would usually be... and if you know my friends that means PRETTY FUCKING AWESOME!).

I have spent the last 3 hours of my life starting to prepare the venue (one of the boys just sold their house, which the builder is knocking down; and they still have the key... did anyone say DEMOLITION PARTY!?!?!). Which basically involved cooking frozen pizza and eating icecream out of the tub whilst watching a whole lot of my friends put up plastic and newspaper all over the walls. This has the dual effect of both protecting the walls from any vomit/alcohol/other stains AND making the house look totally fucking awesome. Almost like a Haunted House Ride. But with less ghosts and more loud music and drunk people.

If it's not fucking amazing I will eat some of the 3 month old Butter Chicken sitting in my freezer.
And no one wants that... do they?

Ciao ciao Amigos. 

I'll fill you in on every atrocity this event has to offer...

If...    you're lucky ;) 



Draft

Dear Devoted Readers (ha ha)

My many sincerest (ha ha) apologies for not writing sooner.
Or at all for that matter.

I am here today to rectify the situation - and hopefully you can understand why my posts have been so few and far between of late (or in fact so few at ALL).

Firstly because I am one of the laziest people ever to walk the face of the Earth. Secondly because I have been incredibly busy; and thirdly, because I do not have a computer of my own; and the other member of our family who uses the computer (so rudely, as she has her own laptop, and just can't be fucked to climb the stairs and go to it) has been robbing me of valuable blog-writing time. At least at times of the day when my brain is not shut down entirely (which is most of the time at the moment, to be honest). Here is my week babes and babe-keteers (honestly, the things my brain thinks up whilst running on -10 hours of sleep, and donut-induced nausea). Hope it satisfies your blog-thirst.

Basically, I have been working. Almost every day. Overtime. Way way way too hard.
By myself. And at a level of responsibility and superiority that is probably not wise to trust me with; as I am more than apt at fucking everything up.

But they are pretty desperate I suppose.

I can now
- open the store
- close the store
- bank (carrying over 3 grand in CASH by myself to the bank; just a touch daunting. And a wonderful point at which I celebrated my 1.5 week employment-versary...)
- train and supervise other staff members
- do most of the management stuff

Pretty good for 2 weeks? Trusting mother f*ckers.

But that's enough shop talk (ha ha ha). Let's just say that if I went into proper detail, you lot would be easily as sick of it all as I am.
And that's like, terminally ill.

I should be in respite care, almost defintely.


In other news, I have decided to demote   Lover   to   Sparky  . Frankly, he doesn't make enough effort; and I need to find someone who will actually bother to chase me once in a while. Even if they know without much shadow of a doubt, they're getting a root for their troubles. Ah - the rudeness and lack of chivallry of the gentlemen of today still sucks. I thought getting naked would at least get me a massage or a nice dinner once in a while.

Blergh, who am I kidding?


A friend from the past (let's just call him Wog Boy, or WB for short) has been visiting me almost every day at work (and by visiting I mean; listening to me whinge about work as he helps me put away stock, do rubbish runs and generally stave off boredom). My manager K even lets him come into the store at night and help us do final close. The sad thing is that he probably does half our work, but all he gets in return is me flinging insults in his direction.

I guess my company makes up for it though :)

Oh  I almost forgot - and I SWEAR this is the last work related thing I'll say - K is pregnant and therefore leaving (aka it was her LAST DAY TODAY)... PERMANENTLY! So I'm going back to school a little late so that we can get the shop running okay before I can't be there every day. But we still won't have a manager. So basically we're fucked.
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY, work is awesome.

Anyway, WB has managed to get a crush on pretty much everyone I work with. And I feel slightly awful because most of them have older boyfriends. And he thinks the fact that he's a big muscly Greek dude will get him all the bitches.

Nay, WB, nay.

It's really strange though, because I've known a couple of the girls for a long time, and him for longer; and they think HE is pretty.
But he's just WB  to me.

But yeah, I said I'd return the favour and visit him at work on one of my day's off.
0 out of 3 isn't that bad.
But considering he comes into town (which is only like a couple of blocks away to be fair) even when he's not working, so he can pop by to see me after the gym; I kind of feel bad.

And he did get me free passes to the gym where he works; so I could come visit him legitimiately.

Being lazy is such an awful vice when it affects others.
But totally, TOTALLY a beautiful one if you're the lazy shit sitting on your ass.



To be honest I've been totally lacking in the interesting stories department. The only other real development is that I totally killed my diet.

I've been overindulging (like, SUPERSIZE ME overindulging) on every deep fried, calorie rich, sugar or salt drenched morsel (or five) that come my way.


Who fucking cares, it's hot as tits outside, so with any luck I'll either sweat all the kilos off or die in a bushfire.

And the sad thing is that it's hot as tits, at 2am. No wonder the insomnia is coming back like a boomerang to the eye cavity.
And for those of you who don't understand that simile; a boomerang is a traditional hunting weapon of the Aboriginal Australians - kind of like a bent stick that you throw at shit (thus killing or badly injuring it) which comes back to you after collecting a blow on your dinner. And it's a pretty fucking good simile because

a) It refers to my current location in a subtle yet amusing way
b) both boomerangs to the eye socket and lack of sleep would contribute towards a purplish tinge underneath and around the eye (granted one example is a black eye, and one just under-eye bags of the same hue)
c) It's 2am and I managed to write this post, with similes included; and hopefully few enough spelling mistakes that someone can actually recognize this as English

Seems like my life might just be getting back to normal (aka INSANE LAND OF LACK OF SLEEP). And now I must go and rest up and a get a whole 2 hours sleep before it all starts over again.

Pip pip good fellows, til the morn'.
Or whenever I can be fecked to post next.

x