What the fudge...?

Ok. The other strange dream I was referring to in yesterdays post was a sex dream, of sorts.

It was with one of the guys from uni. I love him to bits, but have never had sex with him. And he was as hot as all get out. I love to cuddle this guy. He's like a squishy rock.

Anyhoo. We hooked up. At his dorm. But we couldn't do anything because there weren't any even surfaces in his room (like that matters anyways!). So we decided to head over to my room. And we took a boat, despite the fact that it was a 3 minute walk and no water around.

So we were sailing over to my dorm. But the water was an oily black. And my mate was swimming in the water. And all of a sudden he was being chased by an albino, prehistoric, predatory fish.

Because he had stolen its soap!

My Brain is a Strange Place.

I have strange dreams.

Very strange dreams.

Creepy even.

I have two more to add to that collection. Not including the dream where I was living with a family of giants in an inflatable pool, and I ran away to join the YMCA with a job of vodka and squash.

I had a dream the other night. A dream so creepy and scary it belongs in a freaking horror movie.

My sister and I were staying in a hotel. I really classy hotel. On the 26th floor. I dunno why we were there. But we were, and we were living it up. And my sister met a guy while we were in the elevator. I met him too, but he and my sister clicked. He was tall, very broad across the shoulders. Muscly but with a layer of squish over the top. He seemed mildly retarded, but very nice.

I didn't like him. This might have something to do with the fact that he was kissing my sister as someone got out of the elevator. And he didn't notice that his head was caught in the door. All I could do was watch in horror as the elevator descended, with him still stuck. First his glasses shattered, and then the skin on the back of his meaty head was simply scraped away. And he didn't notice anything. The guy could feel no pain.

He seemed clingy and a bit slow. But we always seemed to run into him. We ended up going to the basement/car park and walking past his car, a shitty old white corolla. Which had a bloodied mallet hanging out the window. My sister was too absorbed in talking to him for her to see, but I realised he was the serial killer that had been striking girls in the area.

He'd kidnap a single girl for a few days. Then he'd give her a phone to call her parents to come pick her up. And while she was calling her parents to come pick her up, he'd bludgeon her to death, with them listening to her screams and pleas for mercy.

Pleasant, yes?

Well, when I figured it out, this guy knew. And I knew that he knew. He refused to let me out of his sight. I tried to warn my sister, but he wouldn't leave me. I put her in an elevator and told her to go up to her room and just wait there for me. I wandered over to the front desk and asked them for a key to an empty room. I needed to lock myself away while I called the police. But I didn't want him to know where I was. So I'm walking the corridors trying to get out of his sight long enough so I could hide somewhere, where he wouldn't find me, to make the call.

I couldn't. So I left the hotel and walked down the street. I managed to lose him as it got dark, and I ran out into suburbia. I knew he was still following me. By some strange sixth sense he knew where I was. I found a quiet little place, number 94. It had a few cats in the yard. Very large ones too, I might add. I hesitated with my hand on the gate. Go in, or keep running?

I heard him shouting a long way off, so I undid the latch and quietly slipped through the gate. I knocked on the door and the grey haired woman let me in. I told her I needed to hide somewhere, and she installed me in her kitchen and gave me her landline. I asked her to lock the doors and she left.

I rang the emergency number, and ducked down behind a bench while I talked to the operator. I told her I knew who the serial killer was, and that he was after me. I told her I was at number 94, but I didn't know the street or the suburb.

Then I heard the sound of wood scraping wood. I looked up at the window and saw a hand protruding through the gap. I shrank down a bit more below the bench and whispered 'he's at the window,' down the phone.

And then I woke up.

I may never sleep again.

Cats and Dogs

My cats are very strange. Very strange indeed. When I am home, I have one within arms reach at pretty much all times. The clear exception is when I'm on the toilet and they're yelling outside the door, or when I'm in the shower under the wet stuff.

Don't get me wrong. I love my cats, but its gotten to the point where they are just under my feet sometimes. For example...


Boots has taken to residing under my desk chair. If I'm there, you can guarantee that she's there. If she's not there, she's on the couch nearby sleeping or watching me, or playing fetch. In this picture, she was lying down until I moved to take the pic of her.

I threw her toy into the chair where Rai was. They had a little play fight. But Rai was in the defensible position so she won. Though she had no idea what the 'fight' was over. Boots sat there until Rai chose to leave.

Then there's Rai. Who comes when I click. Boots has begun to do the same. Boots knows how to sit on command and she even begs, when she feels like it. They follow me from room to room. If I go into the bathroom one of them will be in there within minutes.

My cats are slowly morphing in dogs. Graceful, elegant non-smelly dogs. Next thing you know, they'll be drooling when its food time.

Rai already drools sometimes, but she was raised by dogs, so what do you expect?

**************
I have 5 days off. I'm not working until the 2nd. Huzzah!

I went shopping today. Bought myself some interview clothes, very hot and all a size smaller than my current interview clothes. The top is a business shirt, but the pants I can dress down to smart casual, so not a complete waste of money.

I also got some new underwear, DVD's, contact lenses and tops. I like the tops. Observe.



********
I also don't have any plans for new year. How sad. Everybody else has plans and I've been left out, yet again, by the biotch. Unless I get something coming up last minute, I'll be saddling up the girls, and heading out to Darling Harbour for a few hours. I suspect I'll consume lots of coffee and possibly several drinks in various bars around the place.

But it would be nice to have some company. So if anybody else is stag for the night, drop me an email!

Fuck you Santa, you fat old cunt!

Fuck you in a big way.

I might not have been the best behaved person all year. But I'm not a bad person. I have even been described on several occasions as having a heart of gold! And what do I get in return for all of this...

I have wrinkles! Fucking WRINKLES. They're just little baby wrinkles, but they're there. Hiding under my eye. I was gazing into the mirror thinking how fresh my skin looked, and BAM! Fucker jumped out at me. Now its all I can see. The tiny twin wrinkles, one for each eye. And no amount of infill or skin creams will get rid of them. Sure, I can hide them, make them look like they're not there, but in the back of my mind there they are.

Fuck you Santa. I liked it better when you didn't visit.

************
Oh, and new penis!

Merry Xmas. Good food, good company.

My 12 days of Christmas

I stole this from Prof.

NAME 12 CHRISTMAS CAROLS

1. Silent Night
2. Joy to the world
3. Deck the Halls
4. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer
5. Come all ye faithful
6. We three kings
7. Six White Boomers
8. Yeah, not big in Christmas carols.
9.
10.
11.
12.


NAME 11 DECORATIONS YOU PUT ON THE TREE
1. Tinsel
2. Baubles
3. Santa ornament with a dangly bit between his legs.
4. Fairy Lights
5. A star at the top
6. Gold stars
7. Candy canes
8. Small presents
9. Nativity Scene (at the base)
10. Beads on a string.
11. The cats. They climb the fucking thing

NAME 10 PRESENTS YOU WANT FOR CHRISTMAS

1. Vibrator
2. Adultshop vouchers
3. Silver jewellery
4. EzyDVD vouchers
5. Money
6. Alcohol
7. New phone with 5 mp camera (dreaming!)
8. A treadmill
9. Jigsaw puzzles
10. Vouchers

NAME 9 FOODS YOU LOVE EATING ON CHRISTMAS DAY

1. Turkey. I heart turkey!
2. Ham
3. Vege soup
4. Garden Salad
5. Fruit Salad
6. Low fat custard
7. Penis (a girl can dream)
8. Diet Portello
9. Tabbouleh

NAME 8 PEOPLE FOR WHOM YOU WILL BUY GIFTS

1.Mum
2. Jana
3. Brad (brother)
4. Dad
5. The Biotch
6. The roomie
7. The galpal
8. The cats.

NAME 7 REASONS YOU LOVE CHRISTMAS

1. I get all my shopping done early. So I love going to Westfield and watching all the idiots racing around for the ultimate gift.
2. You are expected to put on weight. So its fantastic when I don't do that.
3. Turkey.
4. Pre Christmas Sales
5. Post Christmas Sales
6. The atmosphere. Work this week has been really fun.
7.The overtime!

NAME 6 THINGS YOU DO ON CHRISTMAS MORNING

1. go to work (2 hours only)
2. cuddle cats and feed them wet food
3. have huge coffee
4. call parentals
5. open presents while on the phone
6. watch cats play with wrapping paper/boxes

FINISH IT:

5. Golden: sunrise
4. Calling: family
3. French: kissing
2. Turtle: eggs
1. And a: nap in the afternoon

NAME 4 GIFTS YOU HATE GETTING
1. chocolate.
2. clothes.
3. cheap calendars
4. socks

NAME 3 PLACES YOU HAVE TO SHOP FOR CHRISTMAS
1. Avon.
2. Paddy's Markets
3. Westfield


NAME 2 CHRISTMAS WISHES
1. Lots of sex for everybody
2. Peace on Earth. Hey, it's the season to be corny.

NAME 1 PERSON YOU HOPE TO KISS UNDER THE MISTLETOE

1. Green Eyes. Duh!

*************
After busting my ass to get through work today, we got to leave an hour early. So I nipped over to the post office to pick up the new Matthew Reilly Book. Its currently sitting on my desk, looking all white and crisp, and smelling oh-so lovely. Yeah, I'm such a nerd.

On the way home from the post office I dropped into Westfield for a coffee and a nibble. Since I've gotten my Christmas Shopping done ages ago, I love to watch the crowd. I ordered my coffee and cake, and went and sat down while it was being made. The crowd thinned and my drink was placed up at the bar, so I trundled up to get it. I looked at the girl, and she looked at me. I looked at the drink. And I looked at her. And I asked 'is this skinny?'. It wasn't. Some fucker stole my bloody coffee on Christmas eve! Seriously, does the Christmas spirit not extend to sweet sweet caffeinated beverages?

Tonight I go see Enchanted. I'm soooo looking forward to this. Mmmm. McDreamy for a whole 1 hour and 47 minutes.

Sinful, much?

So I might be a fat pig, but I can still rock the way I look!

I've been quite well behaved in the lead up to Christmas. With all the choccies floating around work I've been taking a few, but not eating them. They're all sitting in a box in my locker. I'm not buying chocolate for the rest of the year. And for christmas lunch I'm having a turkey roast (breast, lower in fat), with ham, vege soup, salad, fruit salad and trim custard. I've been so well behaved.

We had our work Christmas party/lunch on Thursday. And I was the young hottie. Jeez I work with some crabby old buggers. But the lunch was quite relaxed. I had a few daiquiris with my ribs and salad. Then went straight home from the lunch and jumped on the rowing machine for a bit.

I had to cut that short because I was meeting someone from the findafuck. So I needed to have a shower. Then I got dressed in the same outfit I wore to lunch (yellow dress, low cut at the front AND back, boobs popping out everywhere, cut just above the knee, chain detail on the straps, gold lace heels, gold clutch, pearl jewellery). And on the 12 minute walk to the pub to meet the guy, I got wolf whistled three times. Fuck me, being fat sucks, but the associated curves just fucking rock!

It was fantastic sex. Fuck me. If he hadn't completely screwed up post game play, he would be the best I've ever had. Did you read that? He has the potential to be THE BEST SEX EVAH!

I have a new sex injury. It's not that big, and not as 'what the...?' as the strained armpit, but I love the colour of it. It matches my hair. Observe the coolness of this bruise.

Then a shower and back into the dress to meet the Biotch for a spot of late night shopping. One the three minute walk there I got screamed at 'youse fucking hot' from the window of some passing car. Thanks for the ego boost ya fuckwit! Then before I even got in I lent my phone to some random girl who needed to call her brother urgently, but she didn't have any credit. That's Christmas spirit right there. She was hot too!

Westfield was open til midnight. And it was absolutely insane. There were people everywhere. I never used to be able to handle crowds, but I guess I've gotten used to it. I enjoyed the atmosphere. My legs hurt from shopping. The biotch had no idea what to get his mum, the woman who has everything she wants. I told him to get her a handbag. Something that every woman can never have too much of. So we went handbag shopping and he got her this gorgeous everyday bag. And some perfume. And some gift boxes.

We left there about 11 pm. And the shopping centre was till full. There were people with kids still walking around. And tamtrums galore. Not all from the kids either. 3

I can't wait until Christmas is over.

'Tis the season to be a lard ass.

Did I say back in the fat days yesterday? Cuz the fat days soooo aren't over. I baked. Because I'm a tight arse. Fuck I hate the people I work with. Useless fuckers. Anyhoo. I baked for them. Faaarrkkk did I bake for them.

• Cookies and Cream Cheesecake
• Franjelico Balls
• Caramel and Macadamia Slice
• Lemon Coconut Slice
• Anzac Buiscuts

Quite a few people got a box with a selection of everything. After I finished boxing up everything I nibbled some offcuts. And now I feel fat. I could easily post a picture of all the goodies I baked. Make it like a spread from Better Homes and Gardens.

Instead I choose to post a pic more suited to Weight Watchers!

Here is my disgusting flabby belly.



I am such a pig. No wonder nobody wants me.

Me, in the 'fat' days. Having a quiet drink with mates.

I know I promised a work rant, but lets face it... who wants to read that bullshit?

Its probably best I don't mention anything anyway. I've had enough of the bullying and discrimination. I've gone above his head to our boss, and requested that HR get involved. A formal complaint will be lodged.

And I'll be out of the hellhole by the end of January. I've applied to work at call centres that have constant intakes. I'd rather waste my degree than stay with those fuckwits.

Is this the GREATEST concert EVAH?!?

If I had to relose my concert virginity all over again I'd so pick this one.

Matchbox Twenty AND Thirsty Merc!

I invited a serial concert goer to see it, she baulked at the price. Then I told her Thirsty Merc were supporting, and her eyes just glazed over and she smiled. A small 'ooooh' may have escaped her lips.

So I couldn't find anyone to go with. I was determined to go. By myself, if necessary. But concerts are so much funner when you're there with someone. So I'm going with my sister. I'm going to fly down to Melbourne for the event in April. Depending on how much time I get off, I may travel out to the country to see my family and friends.

So. If anybody wants to meet up when I'm down in April, zip me an email and I might just make your wish come true!

Then taking more time off work to go see Michael Buble in May, in Canberra.

****

And, as an aside. I WANT KFC!!! But I've gone down to 86kg. I was aiming to be 80 by New Year, which I doubt I can make. But KFC so isn't going to help the situation, so I'll eat carrots instead.

I like giving head

There. I said it. I like giving head. I don't give head on my knees. No fucking way. I like to make myself comfortable. I'll lie between the guys thighs. I think of it as a cuddle with legs instead of arms. And it works kinda well to. There's no need for awkward conversation because, frankly, there's no eye contact to initiate conversation. And if you're sucking a dick, you can't talk.

Also I love the view. If you haven't already noticed. I really like penis. So sitting eye to eye with one is just bliss for me. No matter how big or small it is. I love to watch. I love to observe the way it bends, the veins and ridges. Whether the head is a big mushroom cap, or a small button. I love how its not cylindrical. How it has that ridge that runs up the underside of the shaft. I love to run my tongue over that.

I love the way the shaft is so hard, but the skin slides over the top of it. I love the way the head feels on my lips. So smooth and soft, and just a little bit spongy. I love the transition from hard shaft to soft knob. I love the way it feels as my tongue swirls around it. And the way it feels at the back of my throat. I hate gagging, but its worth it.

I love watching him twitch when I nuzzle into his nuts, sucking them gently. I especially love the way he groans when I stroke him as I do this. I've had guys wear their knees at their ears out of ecstasy. I am that good.

I love after he cums, when he's all shaky. And I just gently kiss his nuts, and thighs. I'll gently suck his cock as it begins to shrink. I love to watch it shrivel up into itself as he drifts off to another plane.

Yep. I gotta say. I like giving head. And I'm proud of it. Cuz I do it so fucking well!

Thursday

Ok. This is a biiig post. Go get a cuppa, cuz you'll need it. And maybe some tissues.


I had a long day yesterday. I applied for a job last Thursady. Its a cushy government job, with excellent pay and conditions. But it more than that. It actually offers an opportunity to go somewhere and do something interesting in the long run. So for those of you who know what my current job is like... this is very exciting for me!

The Train Ride

Anyhoo. I got an interview yesterday. So I got the day off and trundled into the city, dressed in my best 'business attire'. Which fitted nicely a few months of dieting back. It still looked ok, but I think its time to get a new white shirt that fits a bit better. The pants are shit hot, and they still look good a little loose. Teamed with casual (but hell pretty) flat black shoes, and a denim jacket - just to get me through the rain without my shirt going all see through.

So I'm early to leave. I don't want to be late, so instead I get half an hour to wander around the shopping centre. I opt for breakfast - toasted museli, fruit, natural yoghurt and honey, with a cappuccino. It kills enough time and I head to the train.

On the train it starts pissing down. I'm would up and watching the water in every creek we go over. Its crazy rough. Water usually calms me down but for some reason yesterday it didn't. I'm mentally chewing over the research I'd done the night before; did I put everything in my resume; I still need to get it copied and collated with my academic transcript; where will I do that; I don't remember all the questions that I practiced; how will I work around questions that I can't answer; what will it be like? etc. etc.

About 10 minutes out from my destination and we're pulling into a train station. There are people getting up and moving about. I'm staring out the window when I feel a touch on my shoulder. I glance around and see nobody near me has moved. The person sitting on the outside of me is still. If she touched me, she'd still be moving by the time I look around. There's a guy in the aisle, putting a jacket on. But if he touched me, my neighbour would have looked around or moved. Plus he was looking the other way and putting his jacket on. No way he could have moved away that fast.

Then I smelt it. Nan's perfume.

Nan died eight years ago. My eyes welled up. I looked away and stared out the window. The smell faded. I looked back, thinking maybe it had been an offshoot of my own perfume. I smelt it again. Definitely her perfume. I looked away again, scared I was about to start bawling. The smell faded and I thought I was hallucinating. A third time I looked around, and I caught a whiff of it again. She'd been there with me.

The Interview

The interview went really well. I excel in social and stressful situations. There were 18 applicants in this round. I'm not sure how many days they did, but our day was the last they ran. They had over 500 applicants in total, and they were hiring 10 in January, and 10 in March.

There was a teamwork test to begin with. I'm a natural leader, but I don't take over anything, so I shone in that one. We worked together and had fun doing it. Lots of laughs and carrying on in that one.

There was a role play afterwards, and while we were waiting to be called in our little group of 6 discussed our qualifications and experiences, and how we came to be there. Quite a diverse range in terms of what they'd gone for. And the chatting really relaxed me for the role play, so I was nice and calm going in.

Then we had computer testing. Think an internet IQ test. Then we had personality testing on the computer. Just like an internet test as well. I think I did pretty well out of that. I don't have rage issues. I don't think everybody is trustworthy, but you trust anyways. No, I don't have brain cancer.

After that was the interview. I was doing really well. While we waited people came and went. The first in our group was taken to be interviewed. She came back and we swapped numbers to catch up at a later point. They came in and collected the other two girls, so it was me and the two boys left. I nicked out to the bathroom and by the time I got back they'd cleared the room out. All the other tasks had been completed by the other groups, so I just sat around and waited. By myself. For the most mentally challenging part of the day.

I nailed the interview. There was one question I asked to come back to. And at the end of the interview I did. One of the interviewees gave me a bit of a hint and said 'I think she answered it with example X.' Of course I hadn't done that but example X was perfect for that situation, so I was able to adequately answer the question that was very important and would have otherwise been left unanswered.

I feel really good about it. I'm not quietly confident that I'm in. I'm arrogantly confidant.

The Haircut

After I got home I jumped on the net and chatted to he, who shall be known as Hygienically Challenged Man. I'll discuss him in a sec. Then I had a quick shower and headed out. The ends of my hair felt like shit. So I booked in a quick haircut. Quite simple really, take one to two inches off the bottom, layer it from the ears down.

BWAH BAH!!!

Yep. Just over 2 inches shorter. Layers from about a quarter down my ear. It bulges straight out around my forehead and makes my head look boxy! Its an 80's dyke haircut.

It'll look hot as hell when it grows out. But right now its shit. I'm damn glad I didn't get it any closer to new year! Though it'll look hot as by then.
"Hygeinically Challenged Man"

Ahh yes. The highlight of the night. At least, he is for you guys. I found him on findafuck.com a while ago and we've chatted for a bit. Anyway, I thought I needed a celebratory fuck. Turns out I was wrong. I should have just stuck to shoe shopping.

So we 'chatted' for a bit. With the aid of a webcam. On his part, not mine. Then we arranged a meet. I have a standard thing. Meet in public. For drink/quick meal first. Not negotiable.

He didn't want that. He wants to meet at my place. Um. How about no?

Ok. He wants meet on the street outside my place? No to that one too.

Hum. He offers to pick me up and we go for a drive? Oh HELL NO!!!

I tell him straight. We gotta meet somewhere public first. We gotta be seen in public first. Together. I go to get my haircut. He texts me. He'll be late. I tell him I won't meet him past that time. For safety reasons.

He shows up exactly at alloted time. I'm still getting my hair cut so I tell him to park his car, cuz I'm not getting into it. I staunter out when I'm done. No harm in keeping a guy waiting. If he's too impatient he can piss off.

He's still sitting out there in his car. The car I told him to park already. He asks if I want to go for a drive.

Um. No. Park the fucking car in the fucking carpark already. I'm not getting in the fucking thing with someone I just met.

I wait by the entrance for him. He comes and squats by the seat. He doesn't want to sit. He doesn't make eye contact. He's edgy. Conversation is a bit stilted but I put that down to him being horny. I stare at his pants alot.

Right now I'm wondering why I fucked him in the first place. I think if he didn't have a huge cock I wouldn't have bothered. I know that if I had any idea about his hygiene, I would have passed.

So I take him back to my place. We get in and I kiss him as the elevator arrives. And he tastes like mouldy arse. Fuck, his mouth was enough to make a maggot gag. And he was a terrible kisser. He kissed like a cement mixer. Just jammed his lips over my mouth, rotated his head and slobbered, whilst occasionally trying to lick the back of my skull from the front. I actually couldn't wait to transfer my attentions somewhere else, just so I wouldn't have my mouth near that.

We get upstairs and the action begins. I start going down on him and it's worse. Old sweat and stale cum. I pull up and gag. He didn't notice. His fucking eyes were shut. On the pretense of lubricating, I wash it. I get the taste off of it, but not the smell. The smell seems to eminate from his body. I give fantastic head. That's a fact. But this was not one of my better blow jobs. Its hard to be into it when you're nose first in a smell like that. Course its hard to give a damn good blow job when he reaches down and has a bit of a wank every now and again.

Don't even get me started on the hint for me to lick his arsehole. FUCKING GROSS!!!! Just. EWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He's pushing that puckered up thing at me and all I could see was the hair and a bit of toilet paper. Just a little twist, rolled into it. I physically pulled out of that position and demanded a new one.

Seriously guys. When I'm going to meet someone, I wash first. I make sure that I'm nice and smooth from the neck down. I shave and exfoliate and moisturise. I sure as hell brush my teeth. I put on FRESH underwear and clean clothes. I'm out to have fun and I want to make it a pleasant experience for all involved.

Needless to say, this is the first and last time you'll ever hear about this guy. I hope like hell he doesn't offer a repeat performance.

Afterwards, we had the awkward conversation. He's 30, bartending and living with his mum. What a catch. About the time where I'm normally asking for a second go, I looked over. And I was disappointed. It wasn't Green Eyes lying beside me. Course, if it was Green Eyes, I'd be curled into him, and not disappointed.

I hinted at him to go. He took the hint and I didn't object as he reached for his pants. He bitched about about having to walk a block to his car. And I reminded him that I just fucked him, so he should shut the fuck up. I had shut the door behind him before the elevator arrived.

And yes, as soon as the door was shut I was in the shower. Everything that the tongue touched got a serious wash. Thank Jeebus I never take a guy between the sheets, so the pillow and blanket got tossed aside until they get washed, and the bed is safe.

Oh-kay.

One of the guys who I've been talking to from findafuck has found this blog. From here on in, this blog goes private. Leave a comment with your email if you want in.

Alternatively, email me at the email address to the right of the page and I'll let you in.

Privacy mode kicks in, in 3 days.

I'm going to see Michael Buble!!!

Now that that's out of the way...

Yes. I am alive. Jeez. I can't beleive I actually got emails from people asking for a new post. Are you guys that sick of the boobs?

I had an absolutely packed weekend. I ended up in Sydney both days. One of my uni mates was down for a physical. So we shopped, and walked, and walked, and ate, and walked, and had coffee, and walked, and had dinner, and walked, and watched fireworks.

I got myself the most kick ass dress for New Year. Even though I still don't actually know what I'm doing, but I'm going to look fantastic. And the good news is that I won't even have to buy shoes cuz I have some already broken in, that would match fantabulously. Hurrah for me!

We walked from central station, to the markets, though Chinatown, up to the Pitt Street mall, around the mall, down to Darling Harbour, around darling Harbour, back to Town Hall station. Caught a train from Town hall to Circular Quay. Walked from Circular Quay to the Rocks for dinner. Walked back to Circular Quay, caught a train to Town Hall, walked to Darling Harbour, around darling harbour (again), and then back to Town Hall where we departed.

For those unfamiliar with the area, here's a map.



And that was all in one day! I went in on Sunday as well had lunch with a guy at bondi. And yes, we went back to his place and shagged like bunnies. Bliss! Then I cruised around Darling Harbour for a few hours. Apparently its the King of Thailand's 80th birthday, so I caught some rays watching the display in the afternoon. Then caught up with the mates from uni and had dinner and got partially ripped on cocktails. Before I said goodbye to them, we went toy shopping. So I have a new vibe too. Lucky me.

OH MI GOD!!! I have 339 blogs to read in my reader. I haven't seriously blogged in nine days!

Better get cracking.

And the answer is...

Doggy style on a bed with slippery sheets and a soft mattress. Hey, you asked!

I'm sorry I've been so slack lately. I've gone through and responded to all the comments from the last few posts. And this includes the compliment post. So the people who complimented me... its your turn now.

Cazzie - You are one of the most switched on but approachable people I know. I'd love to meet you in the flesh one day.

Pie - You have one of the quirkiest senses of humour around. You prove that funny guys can also be sweet. Though not in todays post. In todays post you prove funny people can be assholes when they are pissed off. Good on you for it though.

T - You are such a sweet guy. Some of the comments that you've left here are absolutely adorable and your other half is so lucky.

Moi - I love reading about you and Mister. I hope that it all works out, because awesome chicks really do need a happy ending too.

MissE - I love that you're you.

SZJ - I could just imagine looking up at you too.

Ingsoc - I love that you make me think. You have such a wide variety of topics that you're willing to discuss. And you're open to all sides of the discussion.

And last but not least, the long awaited booby pics. Enjoy. No, that's not nipple. Its a scar.

I'm so proud of myself. Its so shameless. But I've got a sex injury. In the strangest of places. It makes no sense. I've strained my armpit.

Yes. My armpit. It makes no sense. I mean, the pulled thighs are understandable, the sore back can be explained. But my armpit??? WTF!!!


They're completely different!

While we're on topic, how weird is the word vagina? Seriously. You can be talking to someone and use the word penis, and nobody will blink. It just rolls of the tongue smoothly. But you use the word vagina and everybody's eyes pop open a little, and they mentally take a step back and stare at you, just thinking 'did she just say what I think she said?'

They don't even want to think the word to themselves. It feels different rolling off your tongue. Even the sound of the word 'vaGIna' makes you do a double take and go 'whoa!'

Strange, no?

So, tell me your favourite or most unusual sex injury.

I am a sad, sad person.

I got a compliment last night. It was a genuine compliment. But its so sad that its had such an impact.

"You have the sexiest eyes when you're giving head."

What can I say. Its true. And it is something that I'm so proud of. Why the fuck does such a dirty compliment give me such a glow? And no, it has nothing to do with the orgasms I had just experienced.

I should get lots of compliments. So today is officially 'compliment phish' day. You can even go buy a nemo badge to show your support. Or you can just leave me a compliment in the comments section. All compliments reciprocated.

P.S. yes, the boobs are coming.

My words are tasty.

Ok, so my last post was a crock of shit. I was feeling like shit. And that's because I got turned down by a 23 year old who was previously gagging for it.

Long story short, I met one of the guys today. I chatted to him last week for a bit. We swapped numbers. We emailed. Wet met. We fucked. It was good.

Here's the long version. I chatted to him last week for a bit. We swapped numbers. We emailed. We arranged to meet. I had today off, so today seemed like a good idea. He drove to my area. And he got lost. Then he got lost again... and again. Finally he found a park and we met. We had lunch, chatted a bit. He got a call. Some deadline at work wasn't met. We left to go to my place. Almost there and he gets another call. He has to go now, like RIGHT NOW. I convince him to come over for a little bit. He relents. We get in the door and I dash off to pee. I go back into my bedroom to find him mostly naked, stretched out on my bed...

And that's where the long version ends. I'm hungry and off to get some lunch.

Shit, slang. 'something inferior or worthless'

Yep. Thats me. I can't even get laid when I advertise on an all sex website.

I had something lined up for tomorrow. He's getting back with his ex.

I just texted a guy from the site. No response.

Just chatted to a guy who I've been 'talking to' since I joined. Asked him if he was busy this weekend. He said he wasn't. I ask him if he wanted to catch up and suddenly he's busy. Then he tells me he's not really horny. He's 23 and not horny.

It must be true then.

I'm going to eat my height in icecream and go back to bed.

I have big knockers.

Huge. Gigantuan even. And they can cause some problems. For instance, it can be difficult to wear halter necks and low cut singlets. Granted, I wear them anyway, but it can be difficult sometimes. Take today for instance. I bought a new dress last night. And its fugly but its hot. Go figure. The print on it is fugly, but the cut is hot and it works with the cut.

Anyhoo, its a halter neck. The lowest cut I've ever had at the back. Its so low that there is a strap that ties above where the back of your bra would be. And its low cut at the front. There's a steel ring between my boobs, and all you can see is flesh underneath. Observe.


So as you can see, its not really accommodating for me to wear a bra. So I don't. In return, I have to hitch up the halter high, and tie it pretty tight at the back. And this lift the girls up, making them look fab.

Anyhoo. Today we all went out to lunch. And we were walking down some stairs, the girls bouncing a little as we went, and suddenly the halter came a little loose on the back of my neck. I reach up to tighten it, only to find the knot is still secure. WTF?!?

I pull on the string and it is definitely loose.

Glancing down and I see that the strap has pulled out the top. Yep. I almost had a Tara Reid moment. My knockers were so heavy that they broke the damn dress on the first day I wore it!

And nobody has a pin.

Oh noes! What am I going to do?

The good news is, I was in the scouts. I fixed it with two paperclips. Good as new. Fuck, it was so good, I could be MacGyver's lovechild.

Anyhoo. Dress all fixed now. Knockers still big. All good.

Now, just because I'm such a comment whore. If this post gets 50 comments, I'll post a pic of them for you. That should bring my lurkers out of the woodwork.

And no spamming. *looking at Fingers, Kitty, OHM, Josh and Spiky*

*and Crushed and Steve and T, and Y, and Bug... Ahh fukkit*

*Looks at everything with a penis, Kitty and Spiky*

NO SPAMMING! Spammed comments will not be counted!

What A Girl Wants

In the last post, Ingsoc asked me

"So what sort of guy ARE you looking for in real life?"

And it got me thinking. Quite a bit. I want it all in a guy. The whole shebang. I've said before that I want a few basic characteristics. Straight, single, intelligent, nice, reasonably attractive. The big five.

But its more than that. My stereotype is tall (over 6'2"), sandy haired, blue eyed, and lean. Maybe with some subtle definition of abs. I used to like guys younger than me, but that has changed.

Green Eyes, whom nothing happened with, but I still love, is none of that.

I like smart guys. I'm talking razor sharp minded. With a fantastic sense of humour. He has to be quirky and love animals. He has to be open minded and go off in the sack like a frog in a sock. Thats not to say he has to thrash about wildly, he just has to be all there, in that moment, wrapped up and all in. He has to know the difference between needing to get off, and needing a connection. He has to know how I like to be touched and kissed during these times. Because its completely different and one false move in the slow/sensual mode will kill it.

He has to know freedom. And he has to love it. He has to appreciate that I'm fiercely independent.

We have to be able to fight. My bestie and I fight all the time. But its good fighting. Its not angry. We keep each other on our toes and by doing this, we can bring up stuff without letting it simmer into resentment. But our fighting is all above board. There's certain topics we don't touch, too personal. We don't dredge up the past. What we're having a go at each other about is what we're fighting about.

He has to be honest.

I don't care if he doesn't notice my hair. Or if he doesn't notice new clothes. Unless I look slammin hot. He doesn't have to give a shit about my shoes or what my tan is doing. He doesn't have to be the best dresser. His accessories are his smile and his eyes.

I do have to know he can handle my past. He has to understand that it has shaped the way I am. He has to know how it will affect him and us.

He doesn't have to like that I blog, or watch my TV shows. It would be nice if he did, but if he doesn't he has to accept that its my thing. He has to know that dancing is my thing. And I want him to try it. Even for a beginners course. If he chooses not to come after that, then thats fine. I'm still going to dance.

He has to have good manners. Not perfect, but decent. He has to swear. But not all the time. I swear, probably too much. So he can't be offended or upset by it.

He has to be motivated. He has to work hard, play hard, and relax. He has to help with housework and domestic duties. He has to be able, or willing to learn how, to cook. He can't expect me to do anything that he wouldn't do himself.

He has to accept that I don't want to be touched, except when I do, I want to touch for the hell of it. I want to cuddle and curl into his chest. I want to kiss for the sake of kissing. I want him to be my safe place.

I want to be his everything. I want him to want to give up everything for me. Because only then can I feel safe giving up everything and going to him.

But most importantly, he has to care about me. He has to be my friend as well as my lover.

And just because its so sweet, I have to highlight this comment from the T-dude

"If there is one thing I know, it's that the real you is the only you that someone can truly fall in love with, anything else is a recipe for resentment and unfullfilled wants and desires. It's fun to be someone else. It is fun to let the inhibitions fall away online, but in the real world where hearts are both broken and mended, being who you truly are is the only path to a true romance that lasts the test of time."

Yeah, I definitely want that.

Adventure Walks!

I've taken up a new sport. You know, because I'm trying to lose weight and all. I call it adventure walking. And its very... adventurous. I'm thinking of marketing this to tourists to the area. And I'd like your ideas on it.

On our patented adventure walk, you can see

• A vast array of wild birds. Crows, galahs, pigeons, corella's to name a few. And I'm sure as the weather warms up you'll also be able to see quite a few of our famed Aussie Snakes. Though be careful. Most of them are highly venomous. Remember how Steve Irwin used to handle these creatures? Well, he's dead isn't he. So don't touch them.

• The occasional possum. Most likely dead from being hit by a train passing outside the reserve. Avoid at all costs, the smell is enough to make a maggot gag.
  

• Some serious hotties playing ball. Yum!
  

• Bike shorts. And those in bike shorts. A 15 minute walk at appropriate times will have you seeing literally hundreds of lycra encased buttocks. Of all shapes and sizes. And when I say all, I mean ALL. Its a visual feast of sub standard food that even the starving in Africa would reject.
  

• The occasional Aussie Bloke, just to mix things up. The Aussie Bloke rarely wears his shirt, and is either lobster red or omo bright white. I have seen some classic examples on this walk. One prime example was so rotund he looked pregnant, boobs and all! You can't help but have your stare attracted to this man. Even though there is a very loud voice in your brain screaming 'Abort! Abort! ABORT!'
  

• You don't have to worry about being accosted by the natives. Indeed, the natives vehemently ignore you. Even if you make eye contact, rip your shirt off and jump up and down screaming your lungs out. Some of the native males will attempt to approach you. Though they are quite often very focused on the area below the female's neck, and above her waist.
  

• Some of the natives run. Running girls = bouncing boobs.
  

• Just outside this reserve, is a nice, quiet residential area. And one morning a week it transforms into the vilest of slums. This happens on bin day. Yes. Everybody takes a weeks worth of smelly garbage and leaves it on the street. Along with mattresses, prams, old TV's. It is best to avoid the area all day if possible. Cripes, I thought our garbage area smelt bad on bin day, but to walk past these bins even 12 hours after they've been emptied, and they still smell worse than ours!
  

• And of course, flies. It is Australia after all.
  

So where can you find this magical place? Why, its not that far from here. I walk it twice a day, every day, weather permitting. To and from work.

Who knew getting to work would be so entertaining.

I am not a filthy, filthy wh0re

Having said that, I do like playing that part. If there's anything the last few days have taught me, its that I LOVE playing that part.

I'm having so much fun on that site. Seriously. And apparently so are the guys. I signed up on Thursday night. And my profile has been going nutso! NUTSO peoples.

I've had almost 1300 people check my profile. And by the time I finish typing this. It will be over that.

I've gotten 75 messages and 76 winks. And I'm having a hell of alot of fun sorting through them all. Let me tell you! Though I don't have the time to respond to all of them.

And I'm on 45 hot lists.

I'm quite surprised. I have had very few offers from older guys, and very few from attached guys. I did state an age bracket that I was interested in, and that I do not do infidelity.

Seems the guys really dig a girl who knows what she wants. And I mean REALLY dig a girl who knows what she wants.

So why can't I find guys like this in real life? I think its hard for me to put myself out there when I'm that way inclined, to people who already know me. Horny minx me is very different to regular, daggy snorts-when-she-laughs me. I guess I'm worried that if the people who knew me, knew that side, they'd run screaming for the hills. Or the bedroom.

Well, I only snort when I laugh if I'm on a sugar high.

I've chatted to a few of the guys so far. Several have been extremely interesting. In fact, if I hadn't had a visit from Aunt Flo, I'd be meeting them in days.

So, bearing in mind I'm not a dirty, dirty tr@mp, I'd like to remind everyone that we have lots of new penis!

Friday Fracas

Yep. Its Friday. I'm working my second weekend in a row. So I'm tired and cranky. Well, not really. I've been slipping on the blogs of late because I've actually been getting off the computer at a decent hour and getting some sleep!

Wonders will never cease.

***

So I found out about Dancing Dad last we all heard. Have you all caught up? Good. Well, straight from that I found out that one of my workmates wives has cancer again. Multiple metastatic bone cancer. Luckily it hasn't spread to the organs yet, so they may get more time with her. I cannot imagine what that family is going through.

***

More depressing news. My apartment smells like shit. And thats not because I have cats. In fact. All of the apartments in my block smell like shit.

Yes, this is Sydney. No, we haven't had a dead granny in our building. At least, not that I know of anyways...

We had a fire. I'm guessing a pretty bad one too. Out entire ground floor entrance is grey with drip marks down the walls. One door is black above it. The apartment (from what I can gather) has been pretty much gutted.

And it happened really early in the day too. I mean, the fireys were standing out the front gossiping to the cops when I left for work at 7:30 on Tuesday. And they were already done by then.

***

I joined an adult dating site. Seriously. And the men there are fucking horny cunts. I keep getting messages like there is no tomorrow. Some rude and crude, which disgust me but I secretly love.

I have had a laugh at this before, but guys will fuck just about anything that moves. There's an 18 year old on there happy to hook up with a 50 year old.

THAT COULD BE YA MUM, YA TWAT!

And I love that guys can use the lamest, most pathetic pick up lines and still fuck up the delivery online. Really. They're just chucking the line out there and seeing how it goes. Some guys get it really well. Comes across really funny and interesting, and they get further attention. But they are few and far between.

And then there's the guy who watches WAY to much porn. And you can tell by his profile/messages. These guys aren't any good. They have no idea what pleases a woman and that some things will work for some girls but not others. They are (as a blogger I can't recall, names them) jackhammers.

On, push, push, push, groan, splat, 'Was it good for you?'


AND THEN there's the guy who's way outside my set age bracket, who's been on that site for FOUR YEARS. Picking up random girls. I guess. Eww. Just. Eww.

They should rename the website... findafuck.com

Ah yes. This will be blogfodder for sure. Even if its just smut posts.

***

And thats about it.

Big News

Dancing Dad is back. Fit and well. He only had a 1% chance of survival. And he beat it.

Warm wishes and good feelings to all right now.

Weekend round up.

I had an Indian cultural dinner dance last night. I was invited by one of my dance partners a few weeks ago and I said yes. I mean, hell, it's a working weekend and I don't usually get up to much on a working weekend. So I went. And I had a ball. I love Indian Sari's. I think they're such a stunning, colourful item of clothing. And they suit all body types. And I love dancing too. So watching the Bollywood style was absolutely fascinating. The band wasn't that great. But they did play as a DJ for a bit. And I hit the floor then. I ended up trying Bollywood dancing. But I am white, so it doesn't come naturally. I'm sure I stood out like nothing else, but I think I did ok. I'm not used to dancing that much with my hands.

My dance partner and I tried to jive, but there were little people running around the floor. So we gave up on that. Later on the floor was a bit emptier, so we did a cha-cha. And we got a few cheers as we walked off the floor. And a bit later on again we had the entire floor to ourselves as we jived. I'm such an attention whore. I loved it. I wasn't in my dancing shoes, so my footwork was a bit shuffled, but it was still excellent. First time I've ever danced outside classes and I nailed it.

Fantastic night overall. Pissed down as we were preparing to leave, so I got dropped off to where my car was parked. By the time I got to the roof, the rain had stopped. And it was just light most of the way home, until I hit my turn off and it started coming down a bit heavier.

****

So I worked as well. Both days. Which is a drag but the weather has been absolutely stunning of late, so getting up isn't so bad. And I got some absolutely stunning pictures of the plants (blueberry ash, and a pale pink bottlebrush) around work. In the last bottlebrush pic you can see the sunlight streaming around the plant. And then there was a random sunflower too.

Later on in the morning we had a tame water dragon which we managed to coax up onto a workmates leg, and it even sat there long enough to worry the workmate a bit. He's got big teeth.

And this afternoon I bake. We're losing a valued work colleague so he's throwing us a morning tea tomorrow. I figure I might help out, bake up a storm and assuage my guilt by feeding it all to other people.

Random thoughts.

What is it with gay guys and my boobs? Seriously!

Gay men aren't supposed to like boobies, but the gay guys I know are just fascinated by my chesticles.

The Biotch takes every opportunity to grope or poke them. Its become a ritual of sorts, where he'll rub them for luck. Or he'll try to get me unawares. Except for the fact that its as obvious what he's about to do, as any straight man. I don't get it. He's supposed to like penis, not boobies.

*******

I'm going to a dinner dance on Saturday night. I'm so excited, and a bit nervous. I'm not going to know anybody there, except the guy who invited me.

*******

I'm catching up on my blogging. I want to masty, but I'm not going to until I get my blogging done, and finish taking up the hems of my jeans.

******

I have a new scent. L by Gwen Sefani. I love it to bits. If you're walking past a perfume store, go in and have a smell. Thats me.

******

I bought Transformers on DVD yesterday, for less than $20. Its a new release. Kudos to me. And I have season three of Greys too.

******


How cheap are pizzas? Seriously. You can buy a pizza for $5.95 if you've got a voucher. You can't even make them for that price. I bought a pizza base tonight. $4.10. And thats just for the base!

******

And I'm playing fetch with the cat.

Dating tips from Phish.

I had a hell of a weekend. It was very long. And alcohol fuelled. I haven't had the lovely combo of a weekend off, and an excess pay week in a loooong time.

So I went out an let my hair down. Long story short, I hooked up with someone, and gave them my number, expecting to meet up with him sometime during the week and finish what we started.

Good plan huh? One teensy, tiny problem. I bumped into his randomly in Westfield last night. And we went for coffee. Then we went and sat in the park for a bit and watched the cats, and talked. About his ex. Alot. Then he told me about every girl he's been with since then.

• Guys, take note. Talking about your ex is not good first date conversation. Going into detail about the whole relationship, not a good idea.

I changed the subject. We began discussing nice areas in Sydney. I asked if he'd ever been to the mountains. He said no, we'd have to go up there some time.

• Guys, take note. First dates are for assessing chemistry, not planning futures.
  

Then he proceeds to tell me that you cannot trust Asians. In a very, very derogatory way. My roomie is Chinese, her boyfriend is Vietnamese. Several of my close friends at work are Asian. Fufuxake! My best friend is a gay black Asian.

I don't do prejudice. Full stop. Exclamation mark, exclamation mark, exclamation mark.

• Guys, take note. If you want to have sex with a girl, be flexible with your statements. She may not be flexible with hers, and you want to keep her happy.
  

He walked me halfway home, then we said goodbye. As I walked off he called me his love, several times.

• Guys, take note. DO NOT DO THIS!!!!
  

Have you ever heard the saying 'running screaming for the hills'? Well, I'm in the hills, and I'm still screaming.

Seriously, I'd prefer SR, in all of his indifferent c*ntishness, to this clingy, racist bugger.

This is for any comments about the smut post below. Just so we don't interrupt the story.

Interactive

Its Smut weekend. And I haven't got anything written. My bad. Its not that I've been uninspired. In fact, I've been mightily inspired, and I will be again in a few days. But right now I have neither the time or the inclination to write it.

So I'll leave it up to you guys. Each reader gets to submit a bit. And you can do what you will with it. But don't hog the storyline, please keep your additions to a paragraph if you can.

I'll begin.

******

A storm was rolling in. Wendy glanced up. What a perfect end to the night. Her date was a bust. There was no conversation. No chemistry. She doubted if he could even get it up if she had gone home with him. Which he didn't offer. She couldn't beleive she didn't wear underwear for the night. Bastard was a waste of her time.

He seemed nice when they met a t the party. Tall, quiet but gentlemanly. She must have been pretty drunk. He wasn't tall. He wasn't quiet either. Oh no, he was absolutely silent. She would have wondered if he was a mute, but his staccato answers guaranteed otherwise. An he was certainly not gentlemanly. He spent the entire evening staring at her tits, and then made her pay the bill!

She shivered out of anger, frustration and cold. The wind eddied leaves around her ankles, and they scratched as they twisted against her skin. Mark was going to pick her up. Sweet, reliable Mark. But she'd opted to walk away from her lecherous date and have Mark pick her up out on the street. She wondered how long he'd be. It began to rain.

She ducked under a tree and hoped Mark would show up before the lightning moved in too. The drops fell thick and fast. She was well and truly soaked, cold and shivering, before headlights turned into the street.

*****

Over to you guys. Do what you will.

I need a patch!

Seriously peoples. A patch for the internet. So that next time it dies, I won't be left completely, and utterly cut off.

My wireless internet adapter died. It worked when I went to bed on Monday, but didn't when I got home from work on Tuesday. On closer inspection it would seem that the entire card (in the casing) had been disconnected from the pins. In short, it had been dropped. And I was the sucker who had to fork out $60 to replace it, so I could update my beloved blog.

35 emails. 7 scrabble games to play. 150 blogs. 34+ comments. One tag (that I know of).

In three days! Kitty, do you know you've done 15 posts in that amount of time! If they make the internet patch, I'll send you a spare in case your internet dies too!

*****

Where did sitemeter go? Its been three days and I jumped on to check my stats, and it's gone away. I was almost at 15000 visits!

Is anyone else having this problem?

*****

I wore make up to work today. I rarely wear make up. And I was talking to one of the guys and he literally did a double take, without the look away bit. Funniest thing I've seen in ages!

*****

I shopped tonight. I have new jammies. Funky ones of course. Just a singlet and boxer combo, but oh-so cute!

And a new bra set. And a hot new top. In a size down from what I normally buy there.

*****

There's a storm moving in so I should go. Catch y'all laterz.

So I made a mistake. Duh. Who didn't see it coming really? Hooking up with SR again was a disaster waiting to happen. He's a cunt. Always has been, and still is. I think I should walk away before I get hurt.

Ah well, at least I got laid out of it eh? If I hadn't the next guy may have ended up with several broken bones by the end of the night.

Next Friday will be the last time I see Iceman, unless we swap numbers. So Friday will either see me tired but elated, or tired, hungover and depressed.

I got tagged-ed. And since I have nothing better to do, I present to you "5 things that I do, did or like that I’m proud of, but that others may think are totally lame. Plus, I get to tag 5 people to do the same."

I got this one from Redhead in the city.

1. I talk to myself. Constantly. Complete with facial expressions and hand gestures. Sometimes, when I'm bored, I will go to my bedroom, sit in front of the mirror, and just have a conversation.
   
2. I can get through a week on minimal sleep. I seem to pride myself in just how hard I can push myself. But when the weekend comes around, I can sleep competitively. I worked last weekend. So I have two weeks of sleep deprivation to catch up on.
3. I love to bake, but I'm obsessed with losing weight. So I either throw it out as soon as it comes out of the oven, or I take it to work, feed my co-workers and THEN either give the remainder to someone, or throw them out.
4. I have quite a big DVD collection. But I haven't even seen half of them.
5. I find it hard to connect with people. I can go out and make new friends very quickly, but I can't make a long term connection.

So there you have it. Proof that I'm lame. How sad for me. And now I have to tag five people to do this. I pick Kelly, Redcap, Scorpy, Ima and Josh.

Obsessed much?

I'm watching the Lion King. At the moment actually. And I gotta say, it STILL rocks! I havent' seen it in years and years, but I can still remember most of the dialogue off the top of my head.

The Lion King was the big disney movie when I was a kid. And I was completely nuts over it. I had all the Disney Adventures magazines that had anything to remotely do with it. I had bought books from the school book club. I didn't just want to know about the plot, I wanted to know how it was made and all the special effects, the WORKS. And this was all BEFORE I even saw the movie.

I even had pictures of Jonathon Taylor Thomas from before his balls dropped, because he was the voice of Simba.

You think its sad, there's more. I collected the magazines. Yep. All the way up to number eighty something. Seriously, $5 a week for eighty weeks. Maybe it wasn't eighty. But I guarantee it was over 50. Thats a hell of a long time to collect a magazine. And I still have the little cut out characters that you could move around a diorama. I even copied them and made more, a whole pride.

Scar was my favourite character. I loved the way he moved and the way he spoke. He was dangerous. I like bad boys.

The lion roars always send shivers down my spine. Especially the scene where Nala and Simba fight in the jungle, and the end scene where he claims his territory at the end by roaring off pride rock.

But it got me thinking, the good old animated kids movie has died. I blame Toy Story. Don't get me wrong, I love the new animations, but you can't beat the classic oldies. After Lion King they made Pocahontas and that was about it. I wish they'd make another like it.

What was your favourite movie as a kid?

Rewards

Oh, there are good times. Working with animals is a truly humbling experience, they always keep you on your toes and they'll teach you lessons that you thought you knew. You can meet some animals that will make you laugh, and some that will make you cry.

***
I remember Milo. Milo was a ginger tomcat that was at the clinic for something. It was when I'd first started on work experience, and I don't remember what it was exactly. I think it was kidney problems. Anyway, he wasn't eating or drinking while he was there. At the end of the day I was exhausted. One of the vet nurses suggested I take Milo into the consult room and give him a change to walk around.

Of course, when we got in there, the cat ignored me. I sat on the floor and petted him. He tolerated it, but didn't seek it when I stopped. I tried to entice him to eat, but he wouldn't. I talked to him the entire time. He wandered to a far corner of the room.

I called him. And he looked at me. I called him again. I could pretty much see him thinking, 'She knows me. I don't remember her, but I must know her.' He came back to me and sought a pat. Then he wandered off to his food bowl and began to eat. Unfortunately this was about 5 minutes before the consult room needed to be vacated.

Milo taught me the value of calling animals (and people) by name. Learning that lesson early on has made my career so much easier. No matter what you're doing, if you refer to an uncooperative patient by name, it does calm them, and it also gives you credibility in their eyes.

And yes, after that Milo did eat while he was hospitalised with us, and he continued to improve.

****
Dog was an entire male German Shepherd. He was a stray who had been hit by a car and bought in by the council. He hadn't been cared for. He had flea allergy so badly that he'd lost about 60-70% of his coat, and what remained was very sparse. He was in desperate need of a bath and a good feed. Though he was huge.

We could only keep Dog for a week before euthanasia. We put him on anti inflammatories and pain killers. Luckily he hadn't sustained any major injuries. Right from the beginning he was gorgeous. He was injured, uncomfortable, scared and in a place that he didn't know and that smelt of chemicals and fear. And he handled beautifully. I had no fear giving him his medication. You could open his mouth and play with his teeth, or take his temperature, pull his ears (within reason), and your biggest danger would be getting licked too much. Or farted on.

We put him outside in the courtyard, and he'd sit there all day. We went out there to hang washing, and he'd be all excited. We'd give him pats and if we sat on the ground, he'd sit on you, yet he never jumped. We'd walk other dogs out there and he'd just look at them calmly. We took another male dog out there to wash, and he sat there the entire time and watched us. He would howl if he got lonely, but he'd shut up when told to. I wanted to take him home.

His seven days passed. And on D-day we all stood around and shuffled our feet every time he was mentioned. We didn't want to do it. We'd all gotten attached to him. Fortunately the vets got called out to a horse emergency about half an hour before we closed. So he was left. The next day I got a call from a friend of the woman who originally hit him. She was interested in taking him. I did the leg work. I got all the drugs ready and labelled for him. She had to pay for them, but we gave them to her at cost price.

She arrived on a rainy Friday afternoon, at about 3pm. Which was our busiest time. Fortunately we had an extra nurse on at the time. I handed Dog over to her and grinned as she walked out. A few minutes later I wandered out the back to clean up, and through the courtyard fence I noticed they were still out there. I walked out to see if she needed a hand. She tried to put him the cab of her ute, but all he wanted to do was sit on her lap!

We ended up putting him in the back. It took us a while, and by the time we got him secured, I was soaked. The legs of my jeans were waterlogged about a foot high. But it was worth it. As cheesy as it sounds, I didn't notice how wet and cold I was, for the warm glow inside.

****
Then there was Henry. Henry was a wild crow that we used to feed. Now he was a character and a half. He found us when he was very young. He used to eat out of our hands and sit quite comfortably next to us. But he was young and naive, and we suspect he tried that with someone else, to near disastrous ends.

He hadn't been around for a few days, maybe a week or two. We weren't really worried. He was a young, wild crow. He could have been moved on by a more senior bird, or just gone off on his own accord. One day he came to us one day, and he was injured*. He wasn't able to stand on his right foot and was malnourished. He would not tolerate us to approach him for examination. We continued to feed him, and hoped for the best.

Over time he healed, and he did trust us again. But only in work uniform. He realised that we were safe for him. He grew up and found a mate. He'd bring her around for dinner, but she never trusted us like he did. He also had a few batches of chicks that would visit us for food, but like his mate, they never trusted us.

Henry would sit at the back door and call at us when he wanted to be fed. When he was feeding chicks he would take a load of food away for his family. One time I was feeding him dog kibble, because they're more balanced than the mince we normally gave them. When I stopped feeding him, I shoo'd him away. He flew off to a small puddle and dropped all the pellets I'd given him in there to soften them! Cheeky bugger. From then on, whenever I gave him kibble, I'd moisten it first.

Once I was out checking sheep, and in their water trough, I found a bread roll. A soggy, hardly recognisable bread roll. I guess it was a bit hard, and he'd dropped it in there to soften it. I scooped it out and cleaned the trough as best I could. A little later I was out in another part of the paddock when Henry dropped by for a chat. Well, he wanted to see if I had any food, but I didn't so I talked to him instead. All of a sudden he flew off. He'd spied one of the sheep having a drink from the trough where he'd left his roll. He landed in front of the sheep and it took a step back and looked at him. 14" tall Henry waddled forwards a bit, and the 90kg sheep took another step back. Then Henry flew up, and kind of fluttered in the sheep's face. Well, that was it. The sheep retreated smartly. Then he looked over at me as if to say 'What the hell was that about?'. Henry went back to inspect the roll, but found it on the ground and had a quick nibble on it. It was one of the funniest things I've seen.

*To this day, he still has feathers sticking out on his right side, from under his wing.

****
Once I had a mouse with a new litter. She had one dead one in the lot, so I pulled it out of her nest and left it in the bottom of the cage while I went to get something to put it in. When I came back seconds later, she was over near it. I watched her gently pick up her dead baby, carry it back to the nest, and carefully put it in. Then she sat on top of them all and looked at me.

****
Pip was my own pet. She now lives with my mother and is morbidly obese. She is a Jack Russell Terrier cross. A very excitable small dog. She taught me so much about how to handle animals. We got her when I was in my final years of high school. Prior to that, our pets never had obedience training. I knew at that stage what I wanted to do for a living, so I used to train Pip.

I didn't use food. I used her favourite stuffed toy to teach sit, stay and fetch. She taught me that you can use any reward to train an animal. She was a bugger for 'come' though. In the house or the back yard, she wouldn't respond. We lived on a busy road at the time with trucks constantly going by, and she got out the front. I bolted out and prepared for a merry chase. The previous dog would come back when she was ready, and from her back yard performances, I thought she'd be the same. But no, I called once and she ran happily over to me. I picked her up and made a big fuss over her. She never did come when called in the house or yard, but outside she had 100% immediate return.

She also taught that me that there are times to be excited and out of control, and times to be calm and quiet. No matter how excited she got, in you rubbed her ears between your fingers, or stroked between her eyes, she'd just stop dead. She taught me that there are ways to calm animals, that are very much the same as calming people.

Rant

There's no question about it. Euthanasia is one of the most unpleasant aspects of working with animals. Second only to being unable to alleviate suffering. God, there are times when I wish people had no access to pets. I don't begrudge people the love and opportunities that pets bring into their lives. I get mightily pissed off at people who see pets as an accessory, or a convenience.

Even that statement doesn't cut it.

I work with animals. There's no secret about that. And it is a very difficult job. Its physically demanding and emotionally draining at times. But its rarely the animals them selves that make it that way. Its the people. The idiotic, ignorant people who buy a gorgeous, innocent pup and lock in a tiny back yard. They don't train it and it acts up. They encourage rough play as a puppy, and are absolutely shocked when it kills something. They try to defend it. Most times, its not the dogs fault. Its the owners and the upbringing and the housing and the socialising. Don't get me wrong, there are times when the owners are perfect and the dog is still nuts. You can't help that.

Or the people who get a long haired animal that either don't have the time or inclination to have their pet groomed. The coat gets all matted, and often these animals have fleas too. So under the mat of hair is itchy, hot, red and painful. And quite often there is so much bacteria living there it stinks to high hell. If your pet gets a scratch under there, they are screwed.

These people are the ones who bitch most about how much it costs to anaethsetise their pet and cut the hair off. Its much cheaper, easier and better for your pet to brush them, or take them to a groomer. They are easier to handle and if you do it yourself, it reinforces the bond.

Or people who have cats with abscesses who don't do anything. We had someone bring in a cat at3pm on a Friday with a bloody great abscess on its foot, demanding surgery. We told her that she should have bought the cat in earlier. We had surgeries already lined up, and if we did hers it would be an after hours, at the appropriate rate. She went to a different vet for the surgery.

We once had someone come in telling us their cat had an abscess. It was the day before a public holiday weekend. She asked if it was ok to wash it with salt water (WTF??? NO, ITS NOT!!!) over the weekend and hope it went away. We advised her against it, she chose to disregard our advice and she walked out, convinced she was doing the right thing. The vet and I just stared at each other, mouths open.

People who take out their pets stitches shit me. Especially since our clinic had free post operative consults. If your pet needed drugs, that was all you paid for. Someone once took the stitches out of an ear (the dog had a haematoma) a few days after surgery. They're supposed to stay in for a few weeks. The ear blew up again and got infected. Not pretty. Then they wanted the surgery done again for free, because they were too stupid or lazy to bring the dog back in for a free check up.

I hate people who have obese animals. Obese people, I don't care. Its your damn fault. But obese animals are a case of neglect. There are some great weight management diets around. Even supermarket pet foods have weight management selections. Obesity in animals is dangerous and expensive. It causes breathing problems, general unfitness, joint problems, life threatening reproductive problems in females... I could go on forever. And it shaves years off of their already short lives. But when you talk to the owners, they don't care. They don't realise that obesity is a problem in animals. Its too hard to walk the dog, I don't have the time. I can't be bothered measuring out food. I love fluffy, but I don't want to see him go hungry. This is neglect. Plain and simple. And its cruel to have an animal morbidly obese. I've been obese. And while I'm still overweight, I am nowhere near what I was. And I feel so much better for it. Don't you want that for your pets?

Then there are the people who don't desex their pets. If you're not intending to breed, get them desexed. If your not going to run the risks involved with males fighting, maintaining a pregnant bitch, raising and rehoming offspring, then for god sake don't do it. Lets mention vet bills here, before I really get into it. If your pet requires a cesarean, its a few hundred dollars minimum, and there are times when people will attempt to avoid the costly procedure by waiting. These times can see the death of the offspring and/or mother. Are you prepared to bottle feed six or eight pups every few hours for weeks? Is anybody? I love my cats, but I don't know if I'd do it.

Most female dogs increase their chances of getting mammary tumours with each heat. Then there are pyometras (don't click if you don't have a stong stomach). Basically its an infection of the uterus. And it can be deadly.

But this is the bit that gets me. Its the unwanted pups and kittens. The ones that are given 'free to good home' but often go to homes that are run by people ignorant of their pets needs and desires. They will tote the fuzzy around to look cool and caring, and forget about it at other times. Leave it with water and chuck some food at it every now and then. Let them get fleas and worms, and be hungry or overweight. Don't pay them the attention that they crave and never notice if something is wrong.

Euthanasia is hard on the people involved. If the animal is restrained firmly (but not roughly) they are a bit relaxed. You hold them to you and as the drug flows into their veins, their life ebbs away. You hardly notice that you've taken their weight in your arms. As the needle is pulled away you let go of the animal and lay them gently on the table. Its that easy. But its more than that. There's two sides. You can either say you eased the transition by being the best nurse you could. You reduced the stress on that animal, and you tell them that everything is going to be ok. You talk in soft tones and you try to be calm. Most of the time euthanasia is carried out because the animal is old, in pain, unable to move, sick or injured.

The other is more obvious. You helped take a life, and that will be with you forever. You hold an animal and its alive, and you let it go and its not. You get desensitised after a while. Though its always hard and I still feel like crying if the owner is there. My first euthanasia was an elderly dog who was in respiratory arrest. He was on the table on an oxygen mask. We could take him off, but only for minutes at a time. The owners (and kids) came in to say goodbye. The first will always be hard, but that situation, an old family pet, with the kids there, that is hard.

But sometimes there is nothing you can say or do to make it better. I hate euthanasing newborns. Full stop. And this is where the irresponsibility comes into play. It is not uncommon to neuter a female who is pregnant. Though it is dangerous and irresponsible to let the animal get to that stage, and it does cost more for the owner. In all fairness, its not always irresponsibility that causes it. Some animals mature faster than others. I've seen a five month old female cat bought in early for desexing who was pregnant.

But I've also seen mid term animals bought in for neutering. The owners, through sheer stupidity, let their bitch get pregnant. They told us she might be in 'early pregnancy'. We would not have done it if instructed otherwise. The bitch was in late second trimester, maybe even early third. They were so far developed that when we removed them, they were trying to breathe. Thought heir lungs would not cope. We ended up having to euthanaise them. So instead of the owners forking out an 'early pregnancy desex' cost, they paid for a cesarean, which is a few hundred more, and we charged them for the lethobarb used to euthanaise TWELVE pups. I still have a very vivid image of the vet nurse holding the pup, ready to inject, and it gasped. In that moment she went to pieces and I held the needle for them. It was messy, and hard on us, to bring life into the world and then, in one moment, take it away. And it was damn dangerous to the bitch too. If memory serves right, she lost a fair bit of blood.

Though, in all honesty, those pups wouldn't have had a good life.

I love working with animals, and have already written tomorrows post telling more positive stuff. But the damage caused by people's ignorance, arrogance and stupidity make the job so much harder than it need be.

I can be cheezburger?

I'm thinking of submitting some of my kitties to I can haz cheeseburger? These are some of the better (and size appropriate) pics, along with possible captions. I'd like some input from you guys. Mostly because I think you'd be able to come up with something better.

1)

2) Sink cat... iz activated


3) Bumblepussy will killz u


4) "Who didz that?"
or just "Whoa!"