My dad works at a volunteer radio station on Mondays

They read the newspapers for vision impaired people and english language classes.

Their receptionist is blind.

They say she doesn't do much because she can't write notes or do anything but answer the phone and then forget who called them.

She's very friendly.

They can't fire her, because she's a volunteer. Even if not the most brilliantly useful receptionsist, she still helps.

I like that recepetionist.

Sometimes I feel like that receptionist.

It's official.

I am screwed for the Aus History exam.

I'm in Aus History now, not listening.

fml.

Wanna see something rather personal?

OK.

Below is the message I sent to a friend via fb message.


Hello.
First, let me clarify a few points.

1. I am socially inept and completely nerdy.
2. I get along with you reasonably well compared to other boys.
3. The aforementioned point isn't saying much as I know a total of two boys.
4. I am totally chickenshit exemplified by the medium used for this request (that being facebook).
5. (I apologise for the intense awkwardness field I'm about to create) I have a formal this year.

Given points 1 through 5 are accepted as fact, would you be ok to come to my formal with me as a [suffering] family-friend type?
If you are ok to come, that's cool, and if you aren't, that's cool too.

Yeah. I'm that lame.

I am disappoint

Whilst shopping with my beloved mother today, I offered to push the then empty trolley.
I leant on the handlebars.
I forgot Newton's Third Law.
I fell.
I bounced.
The upturned cart screeched painfully along the ground.
My knees went red.
I laughed.
My mother was unamused.

The most romantic thing you can do for someone else.

"Take her somewhere quiet. Tell her it’s a surprise and that she needn’t know where you’re going. Drive for hours. Stop only when you reach a gigantic tree that’s so gnarled and twisted it can only scarcely be called one. There’s an entrance in its roots.

Lead her through the entrance.

You’ll both have to crawl, but you’ll eventually make it to this very romantic room. Unfortunately, you probably cannot see anything because it’s pitch black - which is a good thing you brought a candle with you. Take a match from your pocket and hand it to her (be careful not to drop it in the dark). Tell her to light it. Meanwhile, run the fuck out of there. Her screams will alert you that you’ve successfully introduced her to A RABID FUCKING WEREWOLF NAMED REMUS LUPIN THAT’S ABOUT TO CONSUME HER IN ONE BITE MUHFUCKAAAAAAAAA

Oh, you meant how to woo her? My bad. Buy her flowers."

-omegleshit.tumblr.com

Aloha

Aloha means both 'hello' and 'goodbye' in Hawai'ian.

Did you know that?

I haven't written in a while, but that's because I try to write things here that actually have substance to them. I like to think that this is where I pour out the words in my head, and tumblr is where I pour out the images that accompany it.

Things that have happened in the past week:

• I have watched the entire series of Dance Academy. I sense your judgment. But it's addictive. And the boys in it are hot.


• I have decorated my converse thus:

I think it's fucking awesome.

• I have seen Toy Story 3 twice. I cried both times. It is a beautiful film.


• I saw Shrek 4. Meh. Better than the utter shit of the third, did not live up to the fantasticity of the first.


• I'm going to see the Karate Kid tomorrow, with two of my best friends. It probably won't be the deepest-slash-most soul-touching film, but meh.


• I made muffins. They are the epitome of food pornography. See? I told you so.


• I've geeked at Doctor Who. River song is the definition of bamf (apart from Neville Longbottom)


• And I took a test seeing how many of the 200 main characters in Harry Potter I could name in 18 minutes (decided by how many times their name appeared in the series). 125/200 was my score, and out of the ones I hadn't got, there were only four characters I couldn't recognise.
  

So yes.
Aloha.

SO APPARENTLY

We have a ginger-slash-female-slash-hold-the-phone-ginger Prime Minister now.

Which is all well and good, you know. So I'm for women in power. (1:0 to Julia so far)

Just, my mother would kill me if she found out I was kinda happy 'bout it. She was in the Young Liberals as a seventeen-year-old. (1:1) I come from a long line of really cool people, ya know.

BUT a girl in my year (<3) was a bit put out by this turn of events. It has been her goal for a very long time to become the first female Prime Minister. So, Ms Gillard doesn't have my support in the competition respect either. (1:2)

But she's a ginger, and not having a soul must compensate for the nasty, evil, LIberal thoughts, right? (2:2)

Yes, but that's made by internet trolls and idiots (e.g. me) alike. (2:3)

SO this argument is going nowhere. Shame. It had a really good start.

OH! and I'm submitting my fancy-pants short story Silver Afternoons to the Syndey Morning Herald Short Story Official Competition Thing.

I love subtle insults in essays

Wilberforce didn’t give up his swashbuckling social life just because he was a politician, as is still the case with most politicians today.

What's one thing you own that you should probably throw away, but never will?

My innocence.

An imprint of a departed soul.

THIS THING IS SO DAMN AWESOME

Have you ever done that thing

That thing where you're too busy worrying about the fre-e-eezing cold Mountain Dew in your hand that you get lost in the work experience building?

Guess what I just did.

I have no youtube/facebook BUT I have tumblr and blogger. My Colleagues are out for afternoon tea.

I made David Jones stock a swimsuit they weren't going to sell.
I made a spreadsheet that they're going to use to compare to competitiors' prices.
I know Winter 2011 colours and designs.
I know CONFIDENTIAL Summer 2010 Seafolly and JETS collections.

***

One thing that was really sweet was that the others keep referring to the average customer as if She was one person. e.g.:

She'd like this!
She LOVES this kind of thing, doesn't She, girls?
She's very into the ash and pale blue colours.

<3

Nostalgia and Monologue.

I get it. I haven't blogged in a while. Nothing much has happened for me to blog about, so here's some stuff to entertain you, you non-existent people you.

*****

I had a flashback today to year seven, when we were studying Shakespeare's Dream in English.
My friend Anni wrote this. We sung it to another English class.

Do you love Shakespeare?
(To the tune of "Do your ears hang low?")

Do you love Shakespeare?
Do you read him everyday?
Do you know him off by heart?
Can you act him in a play?
Something something Shakespeare
Something something something-ay
Do you love. Shake. Speare?

We love Shakespeare
We read him every day
We know him off by heart
We can act him in a play
We love Shakespeare
We think he's really hot
It's a pity. He's. Dead.

If he were alive today
We would date him for sure
We would see him all the time
We would love him even more
We're in love with Shakespeare
He's our number one man
We love. SHAKE. SPEARE!!!!!1!!11one!!

We were such kool kids.

*****

A monologue typed out by me as I procrastinated while "doing" PE homework that I didn't have to do. Enjoy. Or not as the case may be.

3. It has been suggested that learner drivers should practice while being supervised by someone with a full license but no other passengers. Discuss.

I never wanted to do PE anyway, but I will so I can procrastinate successfully. My mum is just behind me, sweeping in the little alleyway behind our house. I’m not allowed on my PC in my bedroom anymore, so I’m in the family room. I want to read Cyanide and Happiness, or watch some of their YouTube videos, and then subscribe. I’m that cool. But anyway, I’ll just sit here and type, so it looks like I’ve kind of done work, sort of. Oh well. Such is life. Learner drivers need to have no other distractions such as passengers, ipods, phones etc, as said in question one. Is this good enough? Bloody hope so. Sigh. What will become of me? I’ll probably end up putting this on my blog in the end. I can’t just leave it here to waste. So, hello, blog-reader if that is who you are. If this is not on my blog, then gtfo, hacker. You are not wanted here. Good, she’s gone now. Back to C+H. Crap, she’s there again. Sigh. Type typey type type typison. What eles to do. Sorry I haven’t written in my blog for ages. Wanna know the real reason? Nothing has happened. Really. Nothing. Work Experience this week. Fun. Not sure what I’m going to be doing at the place I’m going to. Hummmmm. She’s gone, BAM! C+H! Or not. She’s inside now. Lull her into a false sense of secu....GONE AGAIN. Aaaand she’s back. Woo. Walking in front of me...goin...going....going....gone. Good. Nope, she’s back again. In the laundry to me right. Putting stuff in the dryer. I love my mum, but my parents don’t trust me on my computer. I wonder why... But still, it’s not like I’m watching porn or anything. Hold on. Running out of light. Better. Lights on. SHE’S GONE C+H!