Localised dullness.

There was a boy, on the bus home last night, who was rather determinedly reading Chomsky. I’d given up all thought of reading so late and on such a busy bus. I’d taken to listening to Nick Cave and trying to determine the nature of the relationship of the couple in front of me. When I (finally) got off the bus I left all three behind but was still slightly preoccupied with wondering about them as people. I love to imagine what other people are like. It’s great fun until you accidentally do it to someone you know and they turn out to be a bit crap in reality.
Today I terrified a woman who phoned to try and make me give money to charity. I answered the phone slightly irritably because I thought it would be my mother with whom I am presently annoyed and then flatly refused to play the game. I tried to be polite but there was a real ‘fuck off’ edge to my voice as I demanded to know where she had gotten my number before telling her that I simply wasn’t interested. I then hung up before she could make me feel guilty.
The other reason I was slightly cranky was that I’d just been finishing off the most recent Harry Potter which I’d had to reread after coming across this discussion. I have come to one conclusion about Harry Potter and it is that J.K. Rowling really shits me. Make that two conclusions – I heart Neville for being so completely hopeless and always ending up in the fray.
Lastly, I made a new friend today – a little cat called, most unimaginatively, Tiger. I came across Tiger having the most awesome upside down washing session in a car park and we clicked immediately. We got along so well (I do give fabulous ear scratches) that Tiger tried to follow me to the shops which was where I was headed. What I found really rockingly good about Tiges was that his collar read: Please don’t feed. I do love a cat that can con meals out of strangers and this was one kitty that did poor waif well.

The last couple of weeks by Mistress Blues

I warn you now that this is going to be rather dull. It may also be reduced to a series of dull points. The unrelenting theme of this post will, in fact, be dullness.
I think the biggest highlight of the last few weeks has been discovering ebay. I did warn you that this would be dull. Not only discovering, but buying a number of out of print books that I was simply too lazy to hunt down otherwise. I like shopping from home; there are no other people there.
The other day I received a postcard from The LLL which was addressed to Mistress Blues. It entertained me that Mistress Blues reaches across oceans – and not just when you stretch out her intestines.
My father visited and I don’t know why I was worried. Those pills they have him on make him really mellow. Does anyone remember a character called Lobotomy Bear, I think, from the Late Show [think ABC, kiddies, the prats from The Panel when they were young and funny]? He’s a bit like that. Aren’t I mean? The first weekend I fed him beer and Red Dwarf and we entertained ourselves. The second weekend I journeyed up the coast to visit him at my aunt and uncle’s house. We all had lots of alcohol. We also tripped about the central coast on a scenic tour. It’s the coast – we played games like ‘how closely related do you think that person’s parents are’ and ‘spot the pregnant eleven year old’. Later on we played Scrabble and my father beat us every bloody time. I always forget how competitive my family is – thank goodness we didn’t play cards.
The lowlights, like in my hair but more recently attended, were:
• Renting some DVDs and having to pay a fine of over forty dollars. The fine was on a movie that I was all that keen on seeing and thought sucked.
• Having the bus driver make a wrong turn last night and not make my bus stop. To be fair he gave us a fighting chance of catching him by stopping for ten seconds before speeding off again. The irritating footnote to this story is that he did turn around and come back but we’d all hiked off up the road for the next bus that was due nearly an hour later. It was cold last night. And wet. I wasn’t dressed for it to be so very cold and wet. I actually cried with irritation and then had to wait at a bus stop for nearly an hour – cold, slightly damp, and tearstained. I caught a cab from the QVB to home after that rather than catching another bus and freezing my other breast right off.
• The lowest of low, lowlights is the absolute horror of being denied internet access at work. It wasn’t that I wasn’t doing my job, I was, but my job is so relentlessly dull and ridiculously easy that I can, in fact, do it and spend time messing about on the internet. Oh dear, that does make me sound rather bad to potential employers. I push buttons, almost always the right ones, when it’s time to do the button pushing and I answer call after call after call after call as I am paid to do. I do, in fact, everything I am supposed to in my monkey-minded job and can also read blogs and do quizzes and read the news and whatever the fuck else I feel like doing while still keeping my ever so important stats right up there and standing to attention. Believe me, you could do this too. It’s all too easy. It really is all too easy.
• The knowledge that I desperately need a new job before I go completely insane and my brain melts. Totally melts. ‘Oh no, I think my brain is melting out my ear.’ ‘Tilt your head slightly.’

Ugh

My horrorscope for today:

Today's Full Moon in Scorpio might be an emotional roller-coaster for you, especially if you over-personalize the events that are unfolding around you. Even if you'd like to radically alter the circumstances of your life, you simply cannot change others. You can, however, change yourself -- and this is where the solution to your current dilemma can be found.

It's also my dad's. Speaking of - waiting waiting waiting... Too much cleaning and not enough sleep. I am bored with waiting...

I can't decide whether PMS + full moon is cool, creepy, or just explains my psychopathic thought patterns...
You needed to know; you know you did.

Holy Satan's Cock-Juice, Batman!

Put your music player on shuffle. Press forward for each question. Use the song title as the answer to the question. Post on your blog. Comment back if you post it on your site. No comment regarding whatever songs that might come up. Stolen from The Bawdy Cloister.

Question 1: Where is your office located?
'November Has Come' Gorillaz
Question 2: What happens when you drink too much?
'Twist And Shout' The Mamas & The Papas
Question 3: What are your feelings about President Bush?
'I Can See An Angel' Patsy Cline
Question 4: What's your latest blog obsession?
'Perfect Day' Lou Reed
Question 5: How do you feel about your separation?
'Me And Bobby McGee' Janis Joplin
Question 6: Name a topical song.
'Ursa Major Space Station' Catherine Wheel
Question 7: Give me the obligatory cleavage quote.
'Road Trippin' Red Hot Chili Peppers
Question 8: Fantasy Song #1.
'Crutch' Buffalo Tom
Question 9: Fantasy Song #2.
'How High The Moon' Ella Fitzgerald
Question 10: Describe your sex life.
'Dream A Little Dream Of Me' Lady Ella

Snorts with laughter. Ah, Fuck y'all, I've had a shit day.

Stupid people leach away your intellect. Discuss.

These people are arseholes.

You’ll all remember, I’m sure, the little piece of laundry madness of a few weeks past. Well, today I can go you one better. In my vain and slightly futile semi attempts to get my flat in parental visiting order I’ve realised that there’s really rather a lot of washing I ought to do. So today I went down to put on some towels. Quite a lot of towels, it’s amazing how they accumulate. I felt that they needed some kind of cleaning liquid to go with them – a feeling that apparently contradicts the feelings of the person who has stolen all my laundry products. I was initially surprised by the bottles not being where I’d left them. I looked around and they weren’t there at all. This is the point where I started screaming [mostly internally] with irritation and rage.
Who steals these things and why? They’re sitting there unattended. You do not need to take them away to steal from them. And, let’s face it, they’ve been pretty god about taking from them as they need them. My new thought [yes paranoid] is that somebody [somebody who is illiterate and mute as can be assumed by their inability to write or speak to me] is attempting to communicate something to me. I’m not sure what. I think I may have failed Communication by theft 101. I probably didn’t hand in an essay or something.
I do wonder if I’m being petty here. I mean, it’s only laundry liquid; it only costs about five dollars a bottle. Should I be pissed off that somebody takes it? I know that there are some total wolf-babies in this block… Do you know what? Petty or not I’m awfully pissed off and have lost all regard for the cunts who live here.
Isn’t it pathetic that when somebody has [pointlessly] stolen from me I am inclined to blame myself and question my own reactions?

Oh and to the person who did this – some lovely syphilitic thoughts are coming your way.

Aside from lightbulbs...

I have a little problem. My father’s coming to town [sorta] for a couple of weeks. He’ll be staying with one of his brothers during the week and with me on the weekends. Now, I don’t mind seeing my parents and I don’t mind [aside from the cleaning] having them come to stay, it’s just that I don’t quite know what to do with him. I mean, there is the obligatory trip or two to Kelly’s to down a pint or ten but then..? What the hell do you do to amuse your father? Oh and did I mention that he’s a slightly crazed Vietnam veteran who isn’t all that keen on crowds..? Yeah, it is relevant.

Suggestions would be awesome.

This morning the light bulb in my living room blew. This evening the one in my kitchen did. The moral? Sometimes houses are oddly malevolent. Oh well.