Why winking is bad?

I will turn the first part of this blog entry to letters to the editor. Warning it may be offensive to some readers….It is merely my interpretation of the dangers of winking and the subtle homoerotic nature of football, which I think might be offensive seeing as football is a very manly game. Let’s just say I making fun of it then? OK here it is….

Here is letter to the editor Nigel Bottington.

Dear Editor,

I have proof that winking is appalling, especially for young footy players. Last Saturday I was watching a rugby game between the Bamboozle Blasters and Holiday Hoodwinkers broadcasted live in Fergaria-Finbarton. Football player forward George Stevens commented on winger Apple Orange’s poor sportsmanship accusing him of winking at Stevens.

Apple was accused of diving again, and once he arose he winked at other players giving everyone a bad impression. He could have just been saying I am OK, but winking often implies he is a smart Alec, that he got away with something he shouldn’t have, which is bad on Apple’s part. Therefore winking is bad.

Thank you,

Zach McGlonagkic


Here is Nigel Bottingtons reply:

Dear Zachary,

You are most likely related to a NERD nerdy retarded weird girl due to the similarities in your surnames. Therefore should have no interest in sports because you are also a NERD. You shouldn’t mask your nerdyness with football or sport but accept it with science type endeavours. SCIENCE TYPE ENDEAVOURS! Do you hear me Zach, potentially related to Ashleigh McGlonagkic who defected from my newspaper to work at the planetarium with a fat complainer?

Now….football is a very homoerotic sport that is masked by hyper masculinity and hidden hostilities. Case in point most football players are repressed homosexuals and 2 of 10 players are secretly gay. Take into consideration the winger you speak of Apple. He name is Apple his parents met at a fruit stand of apples and oranges and apparently made sweet sweet love that very day, causing Apple to be gay. GAY! His wink was merely letting other secretly interested players that he was available. Stevens was only looking forward to seeing Apple at the end of the game if you know what I mean.

Now, not to sound all Philis “I’m that way” Philmore, how could he be accused of diving if there is no water on the football field? Case in point I know nothing about sports because I am gay I only muse as to whether they are that way. Unless you are going to comment on the football players supposed sexuality rather then the game, never right me again with such balderdash about how winking is bad.

Nigel Bottington

Editor in Chief Bamboozle Times.

Dear Nigel Bottington,

I am Apple Orange and I find it offensive that you implied that I was gay because my dear mom and pop met at a fruit stand in the Okanogan B.C. Canada, which I might add they were selling peaches, apricots and cherries, no apples or oranges. I am outraged!

Football is NOT homoerotic it’s a very manly (The adjective not the football team) game. I don’t know where you got your statistics from but football is a brutal sport of masculinity and awesomeness!! I’m also not hyper masculine and much like my good friend Officer Octogenarian said to you in an earlier letter my sexuality is none of your concern, nor should it be related to sport which I play which is very manly. I don’t sit around writing girly letters to the readers every day which are completely irrelevant.

Oh and ummm I have no recollection of the winking implied by the previous writer…Zach McGlonagkic

Cheers
Apple Orange

Dear Apples

Clearly some one is concerned about his masculinity or else you wouldn’t have attempted to defend it so miserably. Therefore you are gay. GAY! Give me an entire reason why football is not homoerotic? I am smarter than you because I wear head gear, as working at this fine newspaper is very dangerous. You should do the same or you will continue to lose entire brain cells. ENTIRE BRAIN CELLS!

That is all,

Nigel Bottington
Editor in Chief, Bamboozle Times

P.S. I have made 151 entries on this blog. 151!!!

"Words on my mind please tell my you'll be mine" ~Buddy Holly

Currently I am working on assignments. A lot of things are on my mind…for starters

1. Assignments!!! A few particular headings for my 100 year old lady report strike me in an odd way.

Logistics of Waste management
"Tell them to fucking clean up after themselves!!! "

Departure of guests
"Tell them the get the fuck out!!! "

Then I identified as a possible risk that “Mrs. Smith may die. DIE!”

Definitely not something that would constitute a passing grade, but it is coming along.

Case in point thank you to Jo for suggesting a venue for the assignment, but I am don’t think it’s the same as the engagement party. Oh and I stole an idea off of you, yes, yes I know I got angry eyed about the “My Goals” thing, but I wrote in my report about effective communication that a family member has set up a blog to keep others informed of the happenings…I’ll have to buy Joan a block of chocolate or something.

Single words for report part of Desk Top Publishing….0 fanatical fear of failing absolutely priceless.

2. The same goes for my essay in Sexualities and Representation. Although the essay should be interesting because I plan to use the novel The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. LeGuin as an example. I picked the topic, how does heteronormativity regulate homosexuals as well as heterosexuals and the theme of the story kind of relates. The story is a science fiction (surprise, surprise…think NERD nerdy retarded weird girl) about a earth like planet called Gethen, currently experiencing an ice age, but what is unique about this planet is that it’s people are all of one sex and only procreate every 26 days when in kemmering, in which they change sex. They can either conceive or become impregnated. The book takes the idea of gender and throws it out the window. It is interesting because the main character Genly Ai from the Ekumen a league of worlds like ours has the heterosexist notions of today. He clashes with these people thinking they are abnormal and is kind of angry about their feminine qualities and on the opposite end the people think he is perverted because he is in permanent kemmering or his genitals are constantly present. Soon Genly Ai and a Gethen Estraven begin a friendship which boarders on love, but Genly won’t act on it as he isn’t sure how it would work. I find it to be a very interesting concept. Hopefully the lecturer will understand my reasoning for including it in my essay.

3. Then there is Officer Octogenarian, the person not the character, I can’t seem to get him out of my entire head, although the character does seem to have a fixture in my mind as well. On Saturday night at the clubs the song “This is Why I’m Hot” was playing. I immediately thought ah this is Officer Octogenarian, the character not the person’s theme song. I told Chris who giggled at my theoretical observation. Ironically at the same time I checked my mobile to for messages and the real Officer Octogenarian sent me a message. AN ENTIRE MESSAGE! I felt like my entire heart was ready to explode from excitement as he had never texted me before. It was a fluke as I had accidentally invited him out to the clubs, the message was meant for my former flatmate Taryn, whom I was expecting the reply from in the first place. Therefore my ridiculous school girl response i.e. jumping up and down and screaming means I am entirely obsessed. OBSESSED! For even more irony Joan whom also was there was dressed like a school girl. Coincidence? Probably not.

Interestingly enough I was more scared about talking to Officer Octogenarian then singing karaoke, which I did successfully pull off, even though I couldn’t keep up with the words. The song was specifically orientated towards the moment too. :P

I think I talked about Officer Octogenarian so much after that it probably drove Chris and Joan nuts. I kept quibbling certain things I’d like to ummm do…around an ummm with him…probably the same things Philis or Sarah would like to do the character Officer Octogenarian, except Sarah would have to drink red cordial before she’d act on it. Joan keeps telling me to not get my hopes up. I try to keep my logical brain in check, but sometimes the heart overpowers and its hard not to get caught up in the excitement, seeing as nothing would happen as I might be sent packing to Canada in November… Then again Joan would have had to been there to understand why I got my hopes up.

4. Another thing my Grandma sounded angry in her last e-mail…saying ‘it’s time I come home and save up for my next adventure!’ She treats me like I am incapable of making up my own decisions, yet acts like I can at the same time. It makes no sense to go to Canada for three months, come back to Australia for Joan’s engagement party then head off to Japan two months after that. I wouldn’t have a chance in hell of Grandma buying me a return ticket. I might as well stay awhile longer and save up here if I can manage to get a job. I might have more luck once I am available full time. However, if I stay here, then my mom will be upset because I told her that I officially made up my mind to come home, knowing full well that I could officially make up my mind to stay days later. It gives me an entire headache. I flip flop with my decisions to much and its entirely damaging to future outcomes or confusing the hell out of me.

5. I was mean to Joan today. :( I somehow got annoyed when she asked me where the class was for sexualities and representations, and I said that it shouldn’t be my responsibility to direct you to classes seeing as I actually attend uni. Shame on me, I realised after I said that, having immediately getting the embarrassed feeling and seeing the look from a very upset Joan that I was in the wrong. So I am sorry Joan I seriously didn’t mean to offend you and I should have taken better care with the words I used. Consider this a world wide public apology.

P.S. I am tired and sleepy now…I'll probably end up dreaming about Officer Old again!

$10 Million worth of mess

Every author knows that a book begins to live only when the voice of the narrator comes to life. You may have plot ideas, characters may haunt you in the night, but the book does not fly until the sound of its voice is heard in the authors ear. And the sound of one books voice is as different as the sound of a childs voice. It may be related to that of other offspring, but it always has its own particular timbre, its own particular quirks. – Erica Jong

Today I will turn my blog over too my alter ego Ashleigh McGlonagkic…. Bringing the characters voice to life.

Dear hopefully intelligent readers of the universe,

I have a fantastical romantical story to tell…I was walking to the bus stop on Monday morning when I found a check lying in the ditch. When I inspected it a bit further I realised it was for me Ashleigh McGlonagkic and it was worth $10 million, more than enough to pay off all my debts and enough to get my grandma Sue-Woman (not to be mistaken with the grandma I do like Val-Lady) off my back as I owe her considerable amounts of money for my schooling overplanetary on Earth for approximately 1 earth year and 8 earth months, which although expensive paid off in the end because I am now teaching planetary science on the planet Earth in the newly formed country Fergaria-Finbarton in good old Bamboozle Planetarium. But was even more curiously the check came with a note which reads as follows.

Dear Ashleigh, :) (Smiley face intended)

Here is exactly enough money (and then some) to pay off all your entire debts and get Grandma Sue-Woman of your back.

You’re sincerely
God :) (Smiley Face intended)

Little did I know this wasn’t from the real God but Fidonio (or was it Fergus) attempting to bribe me to help with the dog army? And hence to say I joined because it’s a good cause. I am now their officially their Nerd Public Nerd Communications Nerd Director Nerd Officer and I make sure they get in the news. I’ll never figure out why I have such a long exasperated title or why every second word is nerd.

My day was going really well, having received $10 million until I came home yesterday to find my flat completely empty. My flatmate Disassociated Petunia Wigglesbottom moved out with no explanation. I was kind of in a mood where it took me a couple of hours to notice, seeing as I had also been visiting with Philis. She totally gives me the brain drain. It was one of those what the? Moments.

So me out of curiosity I went to talk to the manager Ev-Lady (no relation to Hev-Lady...sorry Hevlynn! thank God for that.) of where I live…

So here is the conversation as follows:

Me: Oh did Disassociated Petunia Wigglesbottom move out?
Ev-Lady: Yes…(pauses momentarily) Have you been doing your washing up?
Me: (Silent momentarily thinking oh brother not again…) Maybe not as well as I should be?
Ev-Lady: Well she moved out because you weren’t cleaning up and she just got sick of it. We lost a tenant because of you.
Me: Why didn’t she just tell me?
Ev-Lady: She shouldn’t have had too!
Me: But…but I try my best with my washing
Ev-Lady: (cracks a smile I am assuming she is trying to make a joke) I bet you expected Grandma to clean up after you.
Me: Ummm no I lived with my mom and (absolutely no offence to her) I didn’t live learning the rules of cleaning as clean is much different on Neptune. And I have lived on my own as well!
Ev-Lady: Oh… its different when you are on your own. You need to be cleaner especially when you are sharing with others or else we might not find anyone who will want to share with you.
Me: (at this point I am beginning to turn blue) I am really sorry…
Ev-Lady: (Continues on with rant) I’ve had problems with girls like you and Princess Jo and the Jupitarians. I am trying to explain how it’s important to be clean. It’s unhygienic and it encourages giant despicable cockroaches and in Fergaria-Finbarton we have giant despicable cockroaches.
Me: (thinking: no shit!) I know that.
Ev-Lady: Dear goodness me you’re turning blue!
At this point I am considering melting her brain, but something worse happens. Philis arrives, waddling through the door, like a fat parasitic infection.
Philis: Hiiiiiiii Ashleighhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Hi Ev-Lady!
Ev-Lady: Philis its Everialitiananana (something along those lines) not Ev-Lady, I am not Neptunian I find the Neptunian name you called me offensive because I am not Neptunian. Whose to say it doesn’t mean fat one in your despicable language?
Me: It doesn’t mean that don’t be ridiculous…(YES IT DOES!)
Urgh at this point I am stuck in the room with too fat complainers…
Ev-Lady: Hey Philis you know Ashleigh really well (winks) how is she with washing up?
Philis: What! That’s terrible you’re just assuming Ashleigh never cleans up because she’s a NERD nerdy retarded weird girl and brilliant people rely on fat people to clean up for them because they think cleaning up will be good exercise so they will loose weight and not be fat.
Ev-Lady: Huh?
Me: What’s with the wink?
Philis: Hey yeah what’s with the wink? Are you assuming were that way? Because were not that way, although Nigel seems to think I am that way, which I am not.
Ev-Lady: Well Philis you are rather butch looking and you and Ashleigh spend a lot of time together.
Philis: PUNT!
Me: Oh no!

Concise to say today after this episode I found myself not looking for new accommodation but worse having the flat to myself as my other flatmate Tiara Diddypoos moved in with her boyfriend Cuthbert Higgensbottom (Yes the same guy who used to work for Fidonio.) and Disassociated Petunia Wigglesbottom was some how insulted by my messy habits pissed off somewhere and now there is a new flat manager Mrs. Lachlan's Mum, who recently leaving the police force somehow has become interested in the real estate business.
After all of this I told my friend Princess Jo what Ev-Lady had said and she claims it is King Gorilla Man Boobs fault, apparently King Gorilla Man Boobs doesn’t clean up after himself and expects to PJ to clean up after him and her pink self. She also said Ev-Lady is a sinister Martian bug with beady eyes, who is victim of social condition. Bless her pink heart.

And that my friends was my entire day.

Ashleigh

P.S. I had the best Saturday night ever. I saw my Officer Octogenarian :) He gave me a hug.

Roar f**king roar! (watch video and you will understand)

Owe my entire brain!



Sorry if this was offensive seeing as the f word is used pretty much every sentence but it made me laugh. And laugh is something I needed to do.

Today I felt Fidonio again :( I felt very sad like, but I don’t really want to elaborate on it other than I was blamed by the manager for my flatmate moving out. The reason I am too messy apparently. I was going to give a detailed descripton of it but I thought why bother? There is not point to dwell on it.

Anyways I have some good news. Remember how I wrote awhile ago about my assignment that corrupted in for my Desk Top Publishing Class? I got and an entire distinction. AN ENTIRE D! The reason for this is some of the parts of the assignment were readable, mainly the word documents and…and this is important the lecturer saw me working on the assignment in class and noticed my regular attendance. He said what he saw was pretty accurate and it would have been a different mark if I had not been attending classes regularly. I knew attending class regularly would pay off in the end. Ha I knew it would work out in the end. Now if I could just make headway on assignment 2 of the course.

P.S. I have the flat to myself!

My future goals of aspirations of non oblivion

Sorry I just think this is hilarious for some reason. I agree LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE! If you check out his other videos he has some interesting things to say.

http://youtube.com/user/itschriscrocker

Ah yes my new layout pretty spiffy eh? I was considering changing the address to http://bamboozletimes.blogspot.com/ but I thought it might be to confusing too many readers I am unaware of besides my friends. So I changed it back to the same address as before.

As for the questions about the 100 year old lady? Her name is Mary Smith and she just lost her eighth husband in an air ballooning accident. These accidents seem to happen a lot around her. Her lust for men I mean money, MONEY has no limits. Ha ha just kidding! For this reason and this reason only I do not recommend anyone making kissy with her.

Anyways when I started writing this entry it was 1:16 a.m. I haven’t stayed up that late in a long time. I’m trying to make myself really tired in hopes I will fall asleep easier…I am just experiencing a lot of confusion lately and its making it hard to sleep.

Do I stay or do I go. I was talking to my British grandma about my confusion and she said:

“Sometimes confusion means you shouldn't do it. Make a list of the pros and cons of what you want to do with your life, and decide from that. Definitely don't listen to anyone, not even me, when it comes to whether or not you should come home. It is your life, so live it the way you want to.”

Grandma also suggested I make a list of goals and put them somewhere prominent so I will see it. What better place than my blog right? So here are 10 goals in no particular order or importance

1. Buy a new computer. FEMPUTER HAS LET ME DOWN TO MANY TIMES! I am so angry with it I won’t even try to rescue it from oblivion. I’ll sell of the parts and buy a new one. Hah!


2. Finish my novel and have it published.


3. Finish university and get my degree


4. Finish all my bloody assignments. I have 1 report about the old lady’s birthday party due in two weeks and a project which includes a report, one essay that I haven’t started and 3 out of 5 short answer questions to finish in only three weeks.


5. Go to Japan to teach English. On the 29th I am going to Brisbane (not Sydney sorry Chris and Amy) for an interview to do so.


6. Go to Brazil, for the coffee


7. Pay off my debts, no one likes them


8. Get a new camera. One of those digital SLRs heck yes!


9. Grow some nerve and stand up for myself


10. Learn to speak a new language.

And...

As an unofficial goal I want to marry a football player. I have no idea why it just something random I guess. As for the specific footballer? That’s a question undecided as of now.

P.S. I think I am going home in November :(

I am a great, great, great science fiction nerd.

Yes I know another blog entry so soon. I am just pumping them out aren't I?

Anways, I’ve decided to change the name of my blog to something else which I do not know the name of as of yet….the reason being this blog is really no longer Australia adventures but more of a collection of deep and meaningful thoughts as well as adventures. So I implore my dear friends please give me a name! ANY NAME!

For instance I keep having deep and meaningful thoughts….such as:

People think I am weird if I talk to them. On my flight to Sydney I tried to make conversation with passengers, but they reacted quite strangely. It’s as if everyone is afraid of one another. So I wonder how to do people manage to make friends and even procreate for that matter if we are so bloody afraid and untrusting of one another. It surprises me the human race still exists.

So what am I doing right now besides procrastinating?

I am attempting to work on an assignment for my Events Leisure and Entertainment in which I am planning a birthday party for 100 year old pregnant old lady man wife. It’s fun because I kind of get to make up what she is like. Kind of like a character in a story.

So far she is a science fiction loving great, great, great grandmother, born and raised in Montreal Canada. She moved to Australia after she met her third husband Handsome B. Wonderful (I haven’t decided on a real name yet. I was watching Simpsons earlier) a cattle rancher from Emerald, with whom she had a letter writing affair for 20 years. Her first husband died of cancer and her second she met while being a nurse during the second word war, but he died of typhus.

She has also survived many significant historical events such as World Wars, both waves of feminism, (her mother was a suffragette) and she has seven husbands (some of which died under mysterious circumstances), is insanely rich (think back to husbands), loves 1950s science fiction film, aided in the rise of Trekkies, voted for many different prime ministers, has 7 children, 16 grandchildren, 23 great grand children and 11 great, great grandchildren and two great, great, great grandchildren. She studied at McGill University to become a science teacher, but she had to give up teaching when she had her first baby to fit with the times. She is afraid of balloons, likes tea parties, (not dinner parties) has read hundreds of thousands of books, mostly science fiction, served on the local council, is an accomplished science fiction novelist, possibly a journalist (she used a male pseudo name to gain respectability) and has had a life long dream to meet William Shatner. After reading all of this the lecturer will:

A) Take into consideration that I have a very obscure imagination.
B) I like science fiction
C) Both A and B
D) Wonder what the heck I was thinking???
E) All of the above
F) Most likely E

So my theme of the old lady’s party will most likely be a science fictiony one, the mayor will most likely attended as she served on the local council, William Shatner wouldn’t be coming because that would be insane, her family would attended as well as her decrepit pregnant old lady men, there wives and various spinsters. All in all this could use some work. Not to mention I have other assignments I need to work on as well.

P.S. My grandma looks like a pregnant old lady man wife in this here picture :P and she isn’t 100 yet either.

My femputer

Scene from Amazonian Woman in the Mood. I will explain this one shortly.

I am expanding out of my friendship group and hanging out and making friends with new people lately. There is a computer nerd and his girlfriend that live near I do and some classmates from my Sexualities and Representation class. Not to worry though, I still love the friends I have now. Oh yes the computer nerd fixed my computer. :P

Speaking of my computer....

During a rather stormy evening, as the weather hasn't been so great. I out of boredom and procrastination I decided to name my computer Femputer Purpleton 2003. Femputer because is feminine, not to mention the Futurama reference, Purpleton because my character Finbarpupleton came to life on this very computer screen and 2003 because that’s the year I bought it.

Yes ladies and gentlemen my computer is a trusty female computer that has been with me for four years now. I prefer to think of my old computer as suffering from PMS. It constantly craves more ram (the computer not the person) like I crave sweets, it temperamental when I run to many programs at once and hard drive space that saves every stinking memory I have and uses against me later, especially when I am homesick. (Think pictures!) Then it overheats and randomly shuts off. Now that I think of it, maybe my trusty femputer is suffering from menopause, mostly because of the hot flashes that shuts my computer down randomly but its also about to stop its ability of reproduction, becoming outdated and possibly suffering a mid life computer crisis.

My computer is past its use by date and I am in need of a new computer, but there is just one problem, it is my “writer computer” I won’t be able to toss this fine piece of writer aid in to the rubbish tip. I’m afraid I won’t be able to write on an other computer anymore. I know I can write this blog, some times my assignments and the various Carol/Philis stories on random public computers, but I am unable to write my important novels or stories anywhere else. I’ve tried to write Song of the Superheros on another computer and it really wigged me out. It just doesn’t feel write (pun intended) unless I am writing on my big blue metallic outdated hunk of computer junk. Yes I have had this electronic wasteland for many years now and even though its getting pretty close to seeing the ghost. I still feel a sense of admiration for my computer. How strange is it to think of a piece of machinery devoid of any soul made merely for my leisure and school work as an important symbol of my writer identity? Case in point by reading this entry you can tell I am procrastinating. Not to mention I just created a metaphor for femininity and machinery and compared it to female biology.

As for the Futurama reference, in the episode Amazon Woman in the Mood, Leela, Captain Zapp Brannigan, Kip and Amy become stranded on a jungle planet after Captain Brannigan crashed a restaurant spaceship in which they were having a very unbearable half-date. Soon Fry worries about the others and with the help of Bender go to rescue them. It is soon discovered they are on a planet entirely populated by giant woman called Amazonians. The men are immediately taken captive; Amy and Leela are left alone because they are woman. The Amazonians then bring the men to the mighty femputer, who sentences Fry, Kip and Captain Brannigan to death by snu snu (sex).

P.S. Do you know what its like to be a fembot in a manbots manputers world?

Questioning social norms and constructs

Some days I feel like a mute. I haven’t spoken one word and I am tempted to just shout something randomly on the pretence that I am going insane from lack of communicating. I found myself worried I would forget how to speak or if maybe I am toning my non-existent telepathic powers. I never used to have this problem. I used to be able to remain by myself. I did it so much in fact my mom, high school teachers and classmates thought I was an antisocial, recluse and a lesbian?

How did these people come to the conclusion that I may be homosexual even though I am most likely not?

It all started when I was 12. A time when I didn’t really even understand what homosexuality was. There was another girl near where I live that displayed somewhat homoerotic tendencies towards me, but being an idyllic innocent 12 year old I honestly never picked it up and I honestly don’t think my friend was aware of it either, but my mom read something into our friendship. I remember her looking at me with a sort of there is something wrong with you type look. She asked me about my friend and said she needed help Then she looked me in the eye and said if I were attracted to girls it’s against God, it’s unnatural and it’s wrong. I immediately became afraid of becoming a lesbian for some reason, which was really quite silly. The next day I made an ass of myself and asked my friend’s friend if she was a lesbian. I remember thinking it was hilarious or I was vilifying and exposing someone. She became major offended and I tried to mask it up with a joke, but it made me look like the lesbian. In the end I lost my friendship with my friend and I began to question my sexuality.

It was during this time that other girls thought I was a lesbian and were afraid to come near me in changing rooms or when a chain letter was going around and some bitchy girl said to her other friend quite loudly “I wonder if we should include her are sure she is a girl?” This furthered my paranoia or being revealed as to something I honestly had no idea what was about, but I know was considered almost evil by mom, my grandparents and the Mormon Church I went too.

When I was 17 I always had this feeling that my mom thought or was convinced I was homosexual. She would often hint that it was OK to be the way I was. She would often make comments after movies or something she read that homosexuality was normal. One day I out of morbid curiosity I asked her “Did you ever think I was a lesbian?” She said “yes, but I know your normal now because you have crushes on boys, but if you were I’d still accept you for who you were.” I reminded her of what she said when I was twelve, due to the very conflicting messages I had just received. She said she learnt it was natural from her college experience and that “I had nothing to be ashamed of it I was.” For some reason that really pissed me off, how can she say that it was wrong and evil five years earlier, then turn around and say it was OK?

I might add this was also a belief was shared by the majority of the school I went too as well. I was often associated with the butch looking book reading nerd in my class for some reason. Maybe because we were on the same intellectual level, liked books, dressed kind of daggy and again the antisocial type arose again. Even stranger I was a lesbian because I did well in class and the teachers liked me something else not considered normal.

So when this was taken all of these stupid things into account I was therefore gay. GAY! Captain Bottle Pop would have had a field day. It’s because my moms subtle hints that I would question my own sexuality because I didn’t feel like I fit into the norm. Funnily enough when I developed a crush on a boy at school the question of my sexuality was satisfied enough for my mom that she let it go. My classmates they did not know I had a crush on a guy so I was still constantly asked by if I was a lesbian because they had some morbid curiosity they had to fulfil. Oddly because I was taking beauty culture as a subject in high school the girls I knew backed off, associating me with femininity and normality because hair and beauty was a girl thing. Little did they know I was only in the class for the free hair cuts and hair colourings?

I also remember a lady my mom suspected homosexual because she didn’t have sex with her husband, similar to the one suspect about me and my lack of boyfriend, which I don’t think was a mere coincidence. One day we were driving around town and the lady pointed out an attractive well dressed woman. There may or may not have been anything sexual meant by the comment, but my mom freaked out. She became very defensive berated the lady saying I was normal and that I didn’t like girls that way. Again with the conflicting messages!

I remember from my recent trip to Sydney telling some of these stories to Chris’s boyfriend Jeremy and he said when I was 12 my mom was trying to stop me from becoming a lesbian and when I was 17 she has decided I was one so there was nothing she could do about it but accept it. He also said it shouldn’t matter what she thinks. Chris has said the same over and over again saying “I shouldn’t let one off things get to me and if I were a lesbian it wouldn’t matter and my family can’t touch me.”

I don’t know if this is the correct answer, but for some reason it explained the way my mom and others reacted. I read numerous books about the study of sexuality and gender for my class many of which say things that are deviant behaviours or behaviours that don’t fit into the norm are automatically and strangely enough associated with homosexuality. So because I was antisocial, which could be considered a deviant behaviour and because I had no boyfriend, which does not seem normal for a 17 year old girl. No offence but the later is a pretty narrow minded belief.

So why am I sharing this with everyone? It’s been on my mind lately and I am not ashamed to discus my sexuality. I consider myself heterosexual, but sometimes I am not so sure what I am, but I think the confusion is just derivative from past experience. This just proves another theory that heterosexuals such as myself are very insecure because they are constantly trying to fit into the so called norm, which is why although not homophobic I am skittish almost frightened when others question my sexuality when it has nothing to do with them.

P.S. I am now under the belief that gender and sexuality are social constructs.

Mickey Mouse is Queen of the Universe!!

According to Amy the Raven Haired One and Chris “O’Rooney’ Features I am to write 8 Random facts about me, then tag others. I am willing to do so with the proviso no one else will be tagged because I don’t know anyone else too tag. Case in point Amy and Chris are Queen of the Universe and I have no intention of becoming Queen myself.

1. I used to adore Mickey Mouse, I even had hundreds of pictures on my walls and Mickey Mouse paraphernalia. This was until I attended the Class Cultural Industries last year. Some how it just ruined the magic of Disney for me. I still like Mickey, but it’s more about the a fondness of the memories I had about him. Maybe this is just a sign that I am growing up.

2. I really like apples, but I only like two kinds Royal Gala and Golden Delicious kind.

3. I have an irrational fear of balloons, better know as Globophobia. I am afraid of the bang noise they make when someone pops them and when I am around balloons and other people in the house I am consistently afraid they are going to pop them.

4. When I was 15 I wanted to be an astronomer or an astrophysicist and I had a particular fascination with the planets Mars and Neptune. In fact I still do.

5. This is rather embarrassing but,when I was younger I was afraid of public toilets, specifically ones with black seats. I’ll only use a public toilet if I really have too. In fact I’ve been having dreams about toilets since I was little. They come in all different sizes or they are unusable or in public like a park.

The front steps my brother tried to jump from.

6. One time I rescued my brother from jumping of the front steps in the middle of winter. He thought he was Superman and was wearing a towel as a cape and scarily he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He was trying to fly away or possibly save his toys that had fallen into the snow. This scenario was repeated a few days later except he grabbed the straw broom on the porch and reckoned he was Harry Potter.

7. I like ketchup on Kraft Dinner. Oddly enough I went through a phase where I didn’t like it several times, before I decided once and for all I like it. The only problem is they don’t have Kraft Dinner here. It reminds of something I read that Canadians eat their own weight in Kraft Dinner and ketchup is considered an actual food group.

8. When I was seven and lived on Gabriola Island, which is part of small group of islands on the west coast in the same are as Vancouver Island where I was born, I insulted the entire schooling community by saying they were all going to hell and worshiped the Devil because they didn’t go to the same church as me. Needless to say I was going through a lot of religious confusion when I was young. I still am now. I still don’t know what to believe.

P.S. So there they are my eight random facts….and this despicable tag ends with me ah ha ha ha ha ha!

I lost my entire assignment!

I had one of those days today. Everything that could go wrong could. I was attacked left and right by Murphy’s Law.

You see….

I lost nearly all of my entire Desktop Publishing assignment. MY ENTIRE ASSIGNMENT! My stupid USB Flash Crapastica Memory NERD drive corrupted most of the files. And here is the kicker the assignment was due today at 4 p.m. luckily the lecturer was around when this happened and he told me to hand it in tomorrow. I felt sick and I thought I was going to cry. I have at least some of the assignment on my computer. I hope, hope, hope that it’s not all gone and not all is lost. The strange thing is through all this I noticed how I have changed a year ago I would have seriously freaked out and cried. This time I swore a little and expressed my annoyance, but I didn’t have a panic attack and didn’t whine and cry. I managed to come to realisation that everything is going to be OK because the lecturer knew the situation and said if I can’t fix all the files he will mark was is readable and I will still get a grade. I am really surprised about how I handled it. Needless to say I bought a new USB so I can stop this problem from happening again. However, this is not say that this incident didn’t bother me because it did. Imagine losing your ENTIRE assignment.

Then if that wasn’t enough there was a minor incident involving my binder crashing to the floor during a lecture, splitting apart and sending my notes and whatnot in disarray. My old self would probably get pissed off and kick the binder across the room making a further scene or at least think about it while on the brink of tears.

Ah yes I kept getting paid out today too, by the lecturer for the tourism class, a fellow classmate and a bus driver. It felt embarrassed yet amused at the same time, something I haven’t quite felt before. Although I wish I had some snappy comebacks. I never have those on Murphy’s Law type days.

I haven’t had a Murphy’s Law day for months now, so I guess I was due for one eventually. Figures! Is this some sort of karmic influence? It shouldn’t I never wrecked anything of someones? LIFE IS CONFUSING!

Something else people think its funny when I swear or get mad….I’ve never figured this out. I DON’T laugh at them when something shit happens to them. Is it because of my quiet demeanour that when I suddenly act out of place it’s suddenly f’ing hilarious?

And another thing why does everyone want to read the books I’ve checked out from the library?

P.S. I am a NERD nerdy retarded girl vs. Murphy’s Law.

Insanity at its finest!

Urghhhh….Yesterday afternoon I was sitting in the multimedia lab trying to work on a dastardly desktop publishing assignment, but I couldn’t seem to be motivated. I still haven’t finished it.
Not to mention I was incredibly stressed because of it. When this happens little things set me off into irritation. For instance someone typing at a computer nearby was annoying me to know end. I wanted ear plugs to stop the constant typing. Ahhahahahahhaha! God help me! Certain ways of typing on a keyboard irritates me for some reason. Another that gets me is constant sniffling and the sound of people eating crunchy things, like nuts. I want to scream. SCREAM!

By the end of reading this paragraph you may have denoted that I am insane. INSANE! Sometimes I worry that I am a sociopath nut case crazy sociopath person.
They always say it’s the quiet ones. Sometimes my dream reflect my insanity, more on that later.

As if that hadn’t irritated me enough my friend Nick kept bugging me for help on his assignment. I didn’t mind helping him on his assignment. In fact I asked for his help too, but he went on and on about Stargate, Air Cadets and Transformers. I finally told him in some exasperation, which I think was a bit rude that I don’t want to talk about it anymore and that I really had no interest in the stuff. He seriously talks about it every time I see him. I think I upset or hurt his feelings because he kept asking me why I hated it. I don’t know I just do!

Speaking of dreams… After reading Chris’s blog I remembered some very strange dreams I have had. I call them the comically amusing trio, because they aren’t really scary but I am highly amused by them.

Dream 1:

In one dream I am about to make kissy with a very beautiful man, who oddly kept changing in appearance.

In my dream we were sitting on my bed and I was holding my red binder that I use at university. Coincidentally we talked about university he said that the lecture was an idiot because he didn’t like to accept others opinions and for some reason I thought of my old journalism lecturer Bruce Honeywill. Which I think is highly unlikely.
The man was getting very cosy with me and he said the smell of my hair should be bottled into a perfume because it smelt so lovely. Then he changed into Hugh Jackman. He put his arm around me and I sensed he wanted to kiss me so I said that I wanted to put my binder away and he said, quiet seductively “OK but don’t be long.”

So I made a detour to the bathroom and began to brush my teeth, I somehow became aware I was dreaming and said I can’t believe I am going to make out with him. I hope I don’t wake up and there was some anxiety as to whether my alarm clock would wake me, but at the same time I was really excited about it.

Then I rigorously brushed my teeth to the point that my gums were bleeding. When I spat out the toothpaste it was reddish green. When I was finished I looked in the mirror and I screamed, but there was nothing wrong with my teeth, they just looked the same. THE END!

Dream 2:

It was a bizarre dream which was dark and scary like a zombie holocaust movie. But instead of everyone turning into zombies I turned into Pegasus, except I am purple with pink wings, but my wings are flimsy and bat like. Then a guy whom I am in love with in the dream turns into satyr, but he is about to turn into a zombie.

Then two men wearing black suits, whom look like the Men In Black one looked like Will Smith so I assumed it must of have been and the other looked like some random guy who shall not be named type character show up and rescue us in a helicopter.

They never talk but I understand what is going on. I then have to drop my satyr lover from the sky before the zombification takes place. We say goodbye in the sky and I drop him. It was sad.

Then for some reason Will Smith gets all trigger happy and starts firing a gun into the air, while flying through the air. The then throws out an important briefcase out the window and starts to shoot at it, but the other guy stops him and he straps a life line to himself and goes to the surface to try and get it back and I am worried that the zombies will get him. Then I dream that I wake up in a strange room and its 9:05 a.m. and I practically have a panic attack because I think I am late for uni.

Dream 3:

I know I am obsessed with my novel because I dream about it quite frequently. Except this one doesn’t fit in with Song of the Superheroes.

It starts off with me about to be killed in a cyclone. It’s kind of gothic because I come out of my room and where the bathroom is a highly fancy church window. The window breaks and it lacerates my arm and there is blood everywhere. Then my crush Officer Octogenarian comes to rescue me. I stay with him to be safe, most likely to feel safe. Then not be scared of my impending doom I day dream about my novel. In this dream day dream, dogs and humans in harmony and everyone is floating through the air in tranquilly.

Then reporters Mark Mathews and Janie Moore were climbing a volcano near Bamboozle and many people including Sarah Evans kept warning them not too but they wouldn’t listen. It erupted while they were climbing and the lava was purple for some reason. Then I remember the dogs becoming angry with humanity because they felt humans were mean to them.

Soon I become Sarah Evans cat, named Raven Hair, because I am black haired and fluffy. In this dream I am the only non speaking animal in Bamboozle but I think that applied to Fergaria-Finbarton. As a cat I was very fussy and I was angry with the way Sarah made my food. She didn’t “smooch it enough”. Then I sit on her lap while she watches TV, but I climb up and sit on her neck, which clearly annoys Sarah.

Then I become a frantic spectator running for my life down the street from a riot caused by dogs and I see a swimming pool full of grey rabbits and they keep chanting “destroy all humans.”

Then an announcement is made by Nigel on the radio that “Wild Will has been elected Prime Spinster Minster of Fergaria-Finbarton and that voters should be ashamed. ASHAMED!” Then I become a police officer and I arrive to the Prime Spinster office to see a legion of loyal dogs. I would have happily dreamt more but the alarm clocks woke me up. I know that I dreamt about this because Chris and I talked about the sequel to Song of the Superheroes and we discussed the dogs attempting to take over Bamboozle.

P.S. I think I just gave away part of the plot to Song of the Superhero sequel. Oops! I command you to forget everything you just read.

Sydney! The city NOT the person

Today I have officially been in Australia for one year and six months. I’m practically an expatriate, although I don’t like to think of myself as one and might be considered one.

Chris on my first trip to Sydney!

On Thursday I went to Sydney, the city not the person for two days. It was fun, but a completely different adventure than last time. The GRP was the reason I came, but the time left before and after I spent exploring. I like the big scaryness of cities for some reason that I can’t figure out just yet. Here is a summary of my mini adventure, although by the end of if you may think it to be an entire convoluted synopsis of a novel.

Firstly I went to visit Chris at North Ryde where Macquarie University is. I successfully managed to catch a bus there without getting lost and was considerably pleased about travelling over the Harbour Bridge, which made my presence as a tourist known to Sydneysiders. Once I arrived Chris gave a tour of the Macquarie uni, the college where he lives and Macquarie Centre, complete with “catch-up” type conversations and dinner. I even had a special visit from Mrs. Lachlan's Mum in which I learnt how to walk with out my soul being detected. I think that is the gist of what she said.

I went to the same hostel as I did last visit to Sydney. I found that because I was around international visitors that I became more in touch with my Canadian self. I kept saying “eh” after every sentence and fondly discussed Canadian stuff.

One major difference between the last visit to the hostel and this one is, people in my room actually talked to me. I met a Welshwoman, a German girl and a friendly old Chinese woman. The German girl was obsessed with her upcoming trip to Darwin, the Welshwoman, was trendy and cool and the Chinese lady kept telling me all about her entire day. This suddenly inspired a want to maybe work and/or own a backpackers or a youth hostel one day. It would be awesome fun!

On Friday afternoon I went to the GRP it was alright, but everyone else there seemed so much more qualified for some reason. They either spoke Japanese or were undertaking a teaching degree at uni. I felt out of place with my non Japanese ability, my journalism degree and nerd nerdy weird shyness I showed to everyone. Although we were shown origami that was fun and living in Japan looks like it would be pretty awesome too. Subsequently, the things I keep thinking are, I should have asked questions, I should have showed some interest, I should learn to speak Japanese I thought the trip was in vain, but then I checked my e-mail. I now have to go back to Sydney for another interview. Yay! But I suck at interviews. Really suck! I hate it when they ask me “why do you think you’d like to work here?” Or “What makes you qualified for the job?” I always stuff up when they ask me that. ALWAYS! Well I guess I’ll find out in a week if I am successful. I might just being going to Japan after all.

The rest of the day I spent exploring. My physical self and mental self became separated and I followed my feet to where ever they fancied. I started off towards Circular Quay and unfortunately I some became lost and spent hours trying find my way back to George St, the Queen Victoria Building.

Along my journey I saw some very interesting things

- A rather grotesque woman with a very prominent dark hairy moustache.
- A used condom on the street, Ewwwwwwwwwwww!
- A happy couple sitting in Hyde Park lost in their own little romantical world.
- Numerous protestors a lot of them against George Bush and John Howard, go figure!
- Multiculturalism!
- Businessmen in suits
- Skateboarders nearly running over pregnant old lady men
- The twilight hitting the old buildings somewhat majestically.

On Friday evening it came to my intention that I give off loneliness vibes. The Chinese lady figured I was lonely. I found this outstandingly hilarious for some reason

Chinese lady: You give impression that you are boring.
Me: Really? You mean bored?
Chinese lady: Yes, forgive me my English is not so good, I think maybe you might be lonely? Lots of young people like to talk to other young people.
Me: Its alright I am happy to be by myself I am just writing.
Chinese lady: I think you should go talk to young people, you won’t be so lonely.
Me: But I’m not lonely…..

So it isn’t just the manager of the units who thinks this? Chris says perhaps because I am quiet it could be assumed I am lonely. The thing is I am usually quiet around people I don’t know and I although am increasingly enjoying social outings, I am genuinely satisfied to entertain myself.

After this conversation I played solitaire with a pack of cards. However I eventually took the Chinese lady’s advice went downstairs to the lounge and talked with two Englishmen from London for a couple of hours. They were cute, but I mostly liked their accent. I want to marry an Englishman for his accent. Ha ha just kidding! I think I was trying to make flirty with them, but I either wasn’t aware of it or wasn’t in the first place, so I mustn’t have been making flirty at all. One of the Brits said my voice was angelic. Suddenly I am at peace with the sound of my voice. It’s not childlike. It’s angelic! Two very good looking Englishmen seem to think so.

Yesterday morning the lights were turned on in the room, which nearly blinded me. It was the Chinese lady again.

Me: Owe my entire eyes! (I pull the blanket over eyes to shield myself) Did you turn the lights on purpose?
Chinese lady: Yes I think you should be up you having to leave very soon.
Me: (I look at the time) It’s 8:15!
Chinese lady: You leave at 10 a.m. you should be up very soon.
Me: Thank you?

My thoughts on this: Did she think she was my entire mother or something? This furthers my belief that people dislike those who sleep in till nine, ten, even eleven in the morning and have a vendetta against them of some sort. It’s a conspiracy against sleeper inners like me. I think Joan and the Chinese lady were in cahoots as Joan rang me up at 7 a.m. asking me if I wanted to go to Biloela. My brain was on such a far off vacation I could muster the words to answer her. I eventually declined and went back to bed till 11 a.m.

The rest of yesterday was spent with Chris again. No surprise to me but we talked about my novel and future novel about the superheroes characters a lot. We discuss it all the time. We went to Circular Quay but somehow got lost and ended up in Kings Cross, after much walking later we finally arrived back to our destination of Oxford Street. It reminded me of a story about the Mormon family I met here in Rocky, (Yes the same ones that kidnapped Ashleigh and held her for ransom of cabbages) I mentioned I went to Sydney and they asked me where I went. I said Oxford Street and the whole entire house went silent. The old lady replied “That’s the gay part of Sydney!” and I replied. “Yes so?” I haven’t been invited over for dinner since then. Coincidence? It’s a shame a real shame too because I was getting free food. Just kidding!

Chris and I then went to Yoshinoya for beef bowls called Gyūdon. It tasted good. I think eating there was a positive sign for some reason. Now I know one of the reasons to go to Japan is for the food.

I realised my trip was over for a while when I was about to board the bus to the airport and Chris shrugged and said, “So I’ll see you around?” Then it hit me, holy shit I am going back to Rockhampton. We hugged as friends do and I felt sad as I waved goodbye.

However, something tells me I haven’t seen the last of Sydney and even though I thought I would be bored having no friends to hang out with I found being alone on the adventure more rewarding in some way.

P.S. If Superheroes were to be made into a movie. It would be filmed in Sydney, the place not the person. Oh yes and umm… beware of the dog army!

Hmmmmmm.....

Oh boy I am going to Sydney again tomorrow. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! If I haven’t already told everyone I am going to GRP a Graduate Placement Program with Nova Corporation to teach English in Japan. Now I am confused as ever because I am supposed to bring a resume with a photo, but what kind of photo, passport or snapshot? Hmmmmm……

Breaking News!

New Species Discovered Now Missing
By Alice Sycorax
Bamboozle Chronicle Herald

A new species has been discovered just off the cost of Fergaria-Finbarton on Thursday Island by the universes top scientist, thinkers, writers and law enforcers.

This rare species which resembles a big brown furry dragon was discovered when it had kidnapped fellow Bamboozle Chronicle journalist and best selling novelist Sarah Evans, took her to her nest and forced her to say unspeakable names to enjoy the effects, much like alcohol and ice cream is enjoyed by humans and Neptunian’s alike.

However, it shied away from the names that causes headaches, chicken behaviour and the one associated with board games and favoured the unspeakable names that made you laugh and have a good nap. These names will not be said due to their devastating affects.

“It was quite an odd experience,” said Ms. Evans, who tells of her experience with the big brown furry dragon named Bertha.

This new species has been called Brown Fergarian Ridgeback and is known to scientists as Brown Fergus Finbrownstin Fergalarius.

“She was quite intrigued by unspeakable names, which I think are quite ridiculous. Nevertheless she had me say them over and over again. One of the names was of my good friend, but it causes headaches so she wasn’t too keen on it,” said Ms. Evans.

Luckily, Ms. Evans her friends Finbar, a big brown dog, and Mrs. Lachlan’s Mum a sociopathic suffering from dissociative personality disorder rescued her after texting her fiancé Officer Octogenarian 97 times.

“I honestly thought she was flattering me,” says Officer Octogenarian.

They have since broken up over the incident. His suffering from narcissism to blame.

In an odd twist Bertha was kidnapped by a Bamboozle Times journalist Amanda Beaverton in hopes to use Bertha as a heater for her trip to Alaska.

Top scientist at Fergaria Finbarton National University Professor Date Keakin was baffled by this turn of events and demands Ms. Beaverton return Bertha to her native habitat so the university can fully study her.

“So far we have determined that Fergarian Ridgebacks are hydro breathing not fire breathing and all she (Ms. Beaverton) could hope to use Bertha for is to make a nice cup of tea,” said Prof. Keakin.

P.S. Hmmmmmm......I have no idea!

The lights are on but know one is home

I have proof that I am the smartest person in the entire world. THE ENTIRE WORLD! Or I am at least smarter than my flatmate and her friends.

Last night at about 9:30 driven by relentless boredom I decided to switch off the power breaker for the lights in the flat while my flatmate and friends were out. I intended to test my theory if I could get away with it or not.

About 30 minutes later my flatmate Taryn plus two others, arrived in dismay as the lights in the flat did not seem to be working. I waited for about five minutes giggling like a ten year old girl and when I had my fun I emerged from the shadows of my room and I suggested oh so coyly that perhaps something was wrong with the breakers.

So one of Taryn’s friends went to the power breakers like I suggested and started switching all the breakers on and off including the safety switch, but because she is shall I be blunt and say DENSE! (As I have always suspected by the way )she missed the breaker for lights and to make her even stupider because she switched the safety switch off none of the power outlets worked. It’s just ironic she is blonde as well.

When I flicked on the switch for the lights on right in front of her she revelled in my apparent genius, but for some reason thought it was necessary to take the credit for saving the day. Taryn was so proud!

Little did these ineptly drunk females know, I caused this conundrum in the first place. And I soon figured out they were off their entire faces too realise I had played a masterfully mean prank on them. In the end I got away with it. I feel a strange satisfaction that I am smarter than them.

Melissa – 1

Taryn and friends – 0

Now I am feeling very Fidonio again.

I don’t know why either. I’ve narrowed it down to possible homesickness, seeing as I felt similar this time last year or maybe its because I missed Multicultural Fair.

I feel lonely and ignored. And I feel the only way to compensate for it is to go on some power I am better than that person power type trip, much like Fidonio, which explains my actions last night. Two minutes of amusement of others stupidity made me feel better.

P.S. I am going to Sydney again!

Friendship Follies and Absurdity

I am bored today. I am not sure if I should bug the misogynist, write chapter 57 of Song of the Superheroes or go to uni to work on my Desktop Publishing assignment. The last one is the most important followed by the other two. The first one on my list isn’t even worth it.

For the last couple of days I have felt very torn. You know that feeling when you’re in between two people or in this case a group of people vs. one person. Whenever this happens I want to side with both for some reason, but I know I can’t choose. This I will say is about McTheif Queen of Lies and Drama of all Dramaness. (Again I use a word that doesn’t friggen exist!) I won’t say exactly what McTheif did, but you could probably make a guess about it considering the nickname I gave her or perhaps you’d think that I watched Grey’s Anatomy to much and some how came to this logical conclusion of her name. Apparently she is up to her old habits and I don’t know if I should be her friend because I feel like I am betraying everyone else. Maybe it’s because I am too much of a people pleaser and I worry what they will think about me. It all boils down to my lack of confidence or perhaps I like to instigate conflict for some reason.

If I were to continue being her friend it would be primarily based on a foundation of lies. LIES! I don’t know if I can truly trust her as trust is a fundamental element of friendship. Every time I hang out with her I remember what she did and I don’t I’ve truly forgiven her. Forgiveness is another thing bestowed upon friendship and if I have troubles doing that then I have no business being her friend again. All in all it’s been confusing.

Speaking of friendship I don’t agree with my other friends so called levels of friendship. He believes there are three levels of friendship, acquaintances the people you know, mates the people you have fun with and friends the people you know will always be there for you know matter what. I see his logic for it but I was under the impression your friends with people for life and your friends with them in different ways, but you know they’d be there for you in the end and they would have the same expectations of you. It makes me wonder why “type” of friend he considers me too be.

P.S. I am going to uni after all, then writing chapter 57.

What is autosexuality?

THIS JUST IN NIGEL'S RESPONSE TO BAMBOOZLE POLICE DEPARTMENTS STATEMENT!

Dear Readers,

Recently Bamboozle Police have contacted this fine paper, The Bamboozle Times with a loathsome piece of paper I will call a news release. Many editors such as me find these releases of information that spin the truth, shall we say gay…GAY! Only one with woman features would concoct a despicable idea such as a news release. May I remind fellow reporter Sarah Evans not to reply to the editorial. I won’t allow it!

The Bamboozle Police recently suggested that my allegations towards Officer Oliver Octogenarian are untrue because he doesn’t have sex with automobiles. Well of course I would never suggest such a thing. He excites and pleases himself and is happy with it. HAPPY!

Obviously Bamboozle Police know nothing about autosexuality. NOTHING! Auto means one…and in Officer Old's case he is one. ONE! (Emphasis on the word one.) Autosexuality means he serves himself sexually and prefers himself rather than a woman or a man, in his case woman because he is not attracted to me…I mean men, but then again he is not attracted to women either, only himself. Autosexuality has nothing to do with cars and I might also add that it is not physically impossible to make love to a car just ask Finbarpurpleton’s brother Frederick. This we call automosexuality which is something completely different than autosexual.

The Bamboozle Police Department can be rest assured Officer Old can use his police cruiser and read automobile magazines, as well as the automobile section in Bamboozle Times found in Thursday’s paper. Coincidentally the one who writes the auto section, Bill Stevens, is gay. GAY!

As for Officer Dickheads narcissism, that is directly related to autosexuality. DIRECTLY RELATED! You see Narcissus, whom the terrible medical condition of narcissism is named after was considered an autosexual because he was in love with his entire self. HIS ENTIRE SELF! Officer Octogenarian is in love with himself. Coincidence I think not. NOT!

Officer Octogenarian as person who truly satisfies themselves without the need of another human has nothing to be ashamed of. He should however be ashamed of keeping his sexuality a secret as it’s everyone’s right in Bamboozle to know about his sexual preferences, specifically woman featured ones who want to have babies with him. Those women should be ashamed of themselves.

May I remind you no other human can satisfy their sexual needs like themselves! THEIR ENTIRE SELVES! You should all try it, and then you may understand where the beautiful officer is coming from. I commend him for his choice as he is helping to stop the cycle of death caused by woman and their ogling of their womanly features.

In sad news Charles Barrynice has died and gone to photocopier heaven. He was murdered by Fat Bandit. MURDERED! Oh and three reporters possibly died from a brain melting attack by Ultra Nerd. They can be replaced, but Charles cannot. I ask fellow readers to have his family, the computer at the end of the newsroom, the black office chair in the advertising department, me Nigel and the television set in the staff lounge in their hearts at this very troubling moment.

Today’s outings are as follows and there are a lot of them no thanks to fellow information given to me.

Bill Stevens
Paul McNewberrys
Officer Octogenarian
Philis Philmore
Christopher Applebottom
Cuthbert Higgensbottom
Finbarpurpleton Fergarius
Frederick Fergarius
Bamboozle Police Chief Arthur Wally
Bamboozle Communications Officer, Jo Jackilantern.

Thank you,
Nigel Bottington,
Editor in Chief

P.S. I am regretful of the potential for upsetting one but Nigel demanded I post this.

Emphasis on Information!

Well, well, well it’s been a few days since I’ve written. In case your wonder this is another informatory (Is that even a word?) entry that after almost a month, yes an entire month Chapter 56 is finally finished. FINALLY! I’ve narrowed it down to an ending. Two more chapters plus an epilogue, so stay tuned. But then of course I am going to re-write the entire novel, with hopes of publishing it.

Carol wants to visit again for an entire month, emphasis on the words wants and month. Good luck Carol! I don’t mean that sarcastically either.

Officer Octogenarian off duty and autosexual?

The following statments have been released by the Bamboozle Police department.

Recently Editor in Chief of Bamboozle Nigel Bottington who posses the power of gaydar, much like the superhero Captain Bottlepop has outed fellow police Officer Oliver Octogenarian as an ‘autosexual.’

This rumour can be seen as disgustingly untrue by Officer Octogenarian.

The police department believes autosexuality does not exist, as any man or woman would not willingly have relations automobiles as it is physically impossible. Only can it be done inside with two people and Octogenarian is only one person.

This is considered a serious medical condition by many psychologists and to be safe Officer Octogenarian has been banned from reading automobile related magazines and websites and will not be allowed to use his police cruiser, while we investigate his sexuality further.

“We ask fellow Bamboozoolians to stop stalking Officer Octogenarian and suggesting he take Chramyelonia,” said Bamboozle Police Chief Arthur Wally. “He is still an officer of the law and he is no way sick. Have some respect.”

As the community at large may already know Officer Octogenarian is a self proclaimed narcissist, which has been proven to be a medical condition, most likely from starring at mirrors to long and ingesting Narcissus flowers. He has since been ordered to procure a diet of bubble gum flavoured ice cream, diet soft drink and lemon tarts to cure his self infatuation with himself.

However, Chief Wally said narcissism only annoys colleagues and people and it in no way affects his judgement as a police officer.

“I have suggested to Octogenarian on many occasions that perhaps he should be a model or an actor,” he said. “Well maybe more so of a model rather than an actor, but other than that I would say he is a damn fine police officer. I mean that in the literal sense not the physical.”

P.S. I hope no one is offended by these comments. By the way Officer Octogenarian is still not sure what Nigel means by “autosexual”

My double life at the Morning Bully

Today a strange thing happened to me, while on my day of the job as features writer for the advertising department of the Morning Bulletin I suddenly hated writing. I just couldn’t do it I had to force it on the screen. I wonder if maybe it’s because I was suddenly being paid do something I consider a hobby and because of the pay element my perspective on writing changed to the point that I considered it work and no longer a pastime. Or maybe it’s because I am writing but it isn’t journalism like I originally intended?

Yes, yes in case I haven’t already told anyone I finally have a job as a features writer for the advertising department. So I should say I am writing advertorial. Writing for advertising is much different than journalism and it’s not as exciting. However, I am being paid to write so I should be happy.

Here are some common questions I’ve been asked since I started at the Morning Bulletin.

Is there a photocopier named Charles?

No, but I am sure it copies very well.

Now that you work for the advertising department why do they not like the journalists using their mail boxes?

Someone for the ad department said the following to me when I asked:

Because it’s the advertisers mail boxes you twat! You journalists think you own the entire paper. THE ENTIRE PAPER! But, what you don’t realises is that with out our skills in pursing clients to advertise and by that I mean tricking, the entire paper would be rubbish and there would be no money. So kindly stay away from our mail boxes thank you very much.

What’s the editor like? Is he like Nigel?

No the editor is friendly a pregnant old lady man, masquerading as John Howard. The reason I say this is because he sounds like him, therefore it must be him. IT HAS TO BE! I am never wrong. NEVER!

So what kind of stuff do you encounter in your double life as a Morning Bully? Is it different from the way Bamboozle Times operates?

Yes it is a lot different. The Morning Bulletin’s motto is “Local news means the world to us.” Where as Bamboozle Times is “We’re that way.” So the main difference is both papers cater to completely different audiences. Also The Bully has blue painted walls where as the Bamboozle Times has purple.

Another difference a BIG difference there is no Nigel. In fact a lot of the staff are woman so if Nigel did ever show up I am sure he wouldn’t remain in their good books for long.

Any rogue journalists from Bamboozle Times?

However there is a raven haired journalist, not named Sarah and there is a journo that looks suspiciously like Bill, which is odd because he supposedly died by a beanstalk impalement a couple of months ago. This leads me to believe that he is faking his entire death. HIS ENTIRE DEATH! There is a NERD nerdy retarded weird boy photographer rather than a girl. Oh yes and there is me. Nigel said that if I ever came back to Bamboozle Times Norma would throw me out the window.

Now that you’re in the journalism circle are there any cute journo’s to pick from?

Not really…90 per cent of the entire staff is female and to put like Philis…”I’m not that way.” I am still holding out for Officer Octogenarian, but he hasn’t arrived in the newsroom yet, as there have been no peculiar attacks, fires, attacks or disturbances yet….yet.

Is there a big brown dog running the elevator?

No and no. The Morning Bulletin doesn’t have an elevator and I am sure if there was they wouldn’t need a big brown dog to operate it. It has flight stairs to the newsroom. Also I don’t think dogs are allowed either.

Anything unusual about the Morning Bulletin?

I believe one reporter is on the look out for a Brown Fergus Finbrownstin Fergalarius a.k.a. Brown Fergarian Ridge Back a.k.a. a big brown furry dragon. She hopes to employ him as a heater during the winter months.

P.S. I got a HD on my Sexualities and Representation presentation yay!

An Entire Journalist!

It has been a long absence. Maybe is because uni is in full swing and I am busy or I am too engrossed in Harry Potters latest adventure.

It’s been a week and still no inspiration for Chapter 56…I am only 385 words in. I hope to finish the novel before the end of August.

Anyways did I mention that I am an entire journalist not a partial one? Well it’s not for certain yet but I started a work experience thing with The Morning Bulletin. I am unsure if it is an actual paid job or not but the story they assigned me was published in Saturdays paper. Yay! Ah yes and I did a street poll where I asked people “Where is the strangest place you ever slept?” Luckily I had no X-rated answers. Oh yes and the editor for some reason sounds like Prime Minister John Howard and the stories assigned and written by some reporters are quite strange. However, there were no disasters and everything seemed to go smoothly.

P.S. Frederick says Palmsie can’t play checkers now because it’s past his bed time.

Imaginary Influences

Well my first week of uni will be over tomorrow. It’s been a strange week. There is just something about this week that made it strange and I can’t quite figure it out.

“The door of my classroom during Cultural and Media Identity class has an ugly green door with a rectangle window. I kept imagining Wild Will barging in and saying talk about something that isn’t shit or I will eat you!” ~ July 12 2006

The funny thing about this is I can still see the green door and the imagined sequence of my rottweiler character barging in making a scene. Hence to say I was obsessed with character at the time as I was writing a series of stories about Wild Will and the A.E.S.M. On November 23 of this year Wild Will turns 4. I count that as his birthday because he made his first appearance. I still remember the story he first appeared in Cave Canem (Latin for Beware of Dog). I even remember how I came up with him in October during a boring library job.

In fact I have come up with many epic characters over the years many of them are displaced and have no story to call their own yet. I say they are epic characters because I haven’t forgotten them and they managed to stay with me through time.

Carly McNelson
Sam Benson
James Elison
Noel Edwards
Paul Berrdanelli
Clever Queen
Sherrylock
Napoleon Zelaway
John Queensburry
Adventure Joe
Frostbite
Ruthless Roy
Copper Fielding
Oryan Nobel
Tom Brannigan
Sebastian Kat

Then there are others I have forgotten. I can remember some of them but because I forgot to write about them they disappeared into non existence. I can still remember my day dreams about my characters, the stories in my head. They are like distance memories almost life like and real, yet I acknowledge they were not real at the same time. Its quite odd and it irritates me to such and extent that I am angry with myself for not writing about these stories and characters. It’s as if I have let them down as though they were real. For some reason it seems that my imaginary characters somehow replaced my imaginary friends and have become important in my life. I worry that it sounds like I am a bit out there, but I understand what I mean.

In writing news: I wrote another chapter of Fizzy Lemonade, which is meant to be the sequel to Song of the Superheroes. I have another spin off planned too called Bamboozle Blues, but it is in the developmental non-writing stages. I wrote a poem. In fact it’s my first attempt at poetry in a few years…you can read it here. And So far Chapter 56 starts off like this…insert entire idea here! Wow I have made progress.

Breaking news: Ashleigh has been abducted by pregnant old lady men masquerading as Mormon Missionaries. They are holding her for ransom for vegetables, particularly cabbages. Philis attempted to save her but they weren’t interested in the pound of flesh she so graciously offered. She was also furious when the tried to convert her to Mormonism.

P.S. It's official, I am out of shape. I can’t even run to the corner store with out being puffed. If there was ever a zombie holocaust I’d be dead and zombiefied.