Uncaring about Oversharing

I've often wondered what dickheads cough up $60 for a 15 minute carriage ride

I love old Melbourne.  Honestly, it shits all over Sydney - and if we are being even more honest - it completely spreads feces all over the entire state of Tasmania.  I'm allowed to say this by the way, as I am of course Tasmanian.  But if anybody non-Tasmanian ever uttered such a load of heresy about my beloved homeland, I would hold them down with David Foster's arse cheeks until they took it back.

Big Dave sorts out the Tas bashers "Don't you ever say that about Tasmania again you little pipsqueak"

Yes, that is in fact my arse.  Non airbrushed. And devoid of poo.

I've been having a lovely time here, doing some lovely, and not so lovely things.  The first topic of discussion - under the not so lovely category, are the three colonics I have subjected my insides to.  There's no way around it.  Colonics are intensely repulsive.  Even if they are endorsed by Gwyneth Paltrow.  That woman really looks like she would have a squeaky clean arsehole don't you think?  I'm sure she has a couple everyday so that absolutely no shit remains her system.  Ironic for a person who is so full of verbal diarrhoea that it explodes from her mouth every time she gives an interview.

Here are a few Gwyneth specials;

Haha - there is no shit inside me - not one tiny bit!!!

"People think that I'm aloof or old or breathe rarefied air.  That's not me"......No you're just a stuck up bitch who makes most people want to vomit.

"I am who I am.  I can't pretend to be someone who makes $25 000 a year".....Nor would I want to, those people are icky....

"I don't want to be rich and I don't want to be famous".......Uhuh - sure love

Get that fucking cream of corn away from my family

"I would rather die, than let my kids eat Cup-A-Soup"....strong reaction - surely dog shit would be worse?

"Sometimes I feel like everyone in the world has plugged into my kidneys.  I'm so tired"......What? Yuk.

"I'd rather smoke crack than eat cheese from a tin."  Good call, Gwennie, me too. But then I'd rather smoke crack than do a lot of things - including listening to you talk about canned cheese.

"Beauty fades! I just turned 29, so I probably don't have that many good years left in me."......now you're just fishing for compliments.

Someone just offered her tinned cheddar 

"Every woman can make time [to work out] -- every woman -- and you can do it with your baby in the room. There have been countless times where I've worked out with my kids crawling around all over the place. You just make it work."  Of course they're not crawling near me and my $500 dollar a minute personal trainer in my private home gym.  We have a team of nannies to deal with those particular issues.

Haters love to hate Gwennie.  Every since she dumped Brad and wore that unflattering pink dress to the Oscars, things have not gone her way.  Then her lifestyle advice was the final nail in her organic non-Amazonian Brazilwood coffin.  She just overshares waaaay too much.  Just like a certain someone I know......(that would be me by the way).

Let's see - major news - I am almost officially Israeli.  Hmmm should be interesting, becoming a member of one the most hated nations on earth.  Who would voluntarily decide to be situated very close to other (often mental) people who you want to wipe you off the face of the earth?  Me, that's who. Well all I can say is "Bring it Bitches"...... Actually don't.  Otherwise I will get scared and run back to my Mummy.  In order to get the all clear from emigration,  I’ve had a few deep probes from the Israeli government -  far deeper than the previously mentioned tube up my arse.  I had to give a detailed account of my movements between leaving school  (1991) and starting university (in 1998).  I was my typical vague self. “Hmmmm lets’s see – well I travelled round Australia for a while and then went overseas”.  Of course I had to answer the required where/when/why’s.  But the “for how long” really fucked me up.

Yes, I can see how breakfast bongs could be appealing

The most disturbing question was this “So you say you went travelling in Australia and overseas which was, in total, almost 2 years – um that leaves 5 and half years unaccounted for”  “No shit??? Really??? Five years you say”.  “Yes Miss Saunders, so what actually were you doing?”.. …..“Oh gawd.  How do you jazz up bumming around to make it sound like you are less of a deadbeat?  “Let me see, developed a penchant for breakfast bongs; worked as a shitty waitress in various even shittier establishments (no offence Doctor Syntax – you were make favourite shitty joint.  I love the smell of stale beer and old men); managed a café that went broke – it wasn’t my fault I swear it; cashed in my dole checks"…….jesus things were not sounding good.  The Israelis didn’t give a shit, they were just glad I wasn’t on the Pakistani border getting a hard-on for Allah.  But I was left with a bad taste in my mouth.  Where had my life gone?  Those early years were some of the least productive the planet has ever known.  What the fuck happened to me??

What's there not to like about Israel?

*Update:  I have been rejected, I repeat, I have been rejected by the Israeli government.  Thank goodness this blog hadn't been published by then otherwise I would have thought it was due to the following paragraphs.  Oh, and the breakfast bongs thing......

Horrid little bastard

I remember my childhood years much more clearly.  I was a little fuckmeister of a child – and that is being complimentary.  I’m sure some fellow classmates breathed a sigh of relief I didn’t grace our last year’s 20 year school reunion with my obnoxious presence.  As a young child I was worse.  I used to wish that I would get cancer just so I could get attention and presents.  I had my “top five wishes” for the “Make a Wish Foundation already planned (number one was “Buy Me a Mixed Lolly Shop”) How fucked up is that – the desire for a fatal illness I mean, not the first wish – although some would say I could have done better.  They would have had trouble with wish number 4 – “Make me a Mermaid”.   And number 3 was plain evil “Kill Ruben Brown (despised fanta-pants from my class)”.   I got worse with age.  When my cousin got glandular fever (and lot’s of attention and gifts), I saw not a chance to shower her with sympathy, but a way out of my impending exams. I made her spit in a glass of orange juice which I then sculled.  It didn’t work.  Once, upon discovering I had the beginnings of a cold I took an icy shower in my pyjamas, opened all the windows of my bedroom on a freezing Tasmanian winters night and had a frozen tortured sleep – just so I would get pneumonia, time in hospital and thus a shitload of presents.   My cold had cleared by morning.

Yes, I had a Cabbage Patch Kid - sold it at the market for lollies

I also chopped holes in my parents lounge room with an axe just to get a laugh from my best friend Bec (Success! I think she actually pissed her pants with hysteria), constantly begged money from the neighbours to buy lollies, and when that didn’t work, myself and my previously mentioned accomplice stripped the neighbourhood gardens of flowers, then re-bunched and sold them back to them.  And bought lollies.  While kids all over Hobart were crying over the impending break-up of their parent’s marriage, I actively prayed that my parents would divorce and my Dad would marry Bec's mother. I think I may have even tried to get them alone so that romance would blossom.   But even more horribly, I also hoped that something fatal would happened to both of my parents, just so that I could go and live with my beloved cousins in Melbourne.  Plus, I was sure that orphans got massive amounts of attention, and presents.  Probably lollies too.

I’m telling you, I was sick.  Just not in the way I wanted to be

Does a love of taxidermy reflect badly on me?

For a person once obsessed with getting a disease, it now seems strange that I would blow mass amounts of cash on health these days.  Including flushing out my poo with litres of water and a lots of discomfort.  I’ve also become devoted to acupuncture of late.  I’d dabbled a couple of time before, but after my three-and-a-half month chronic cough was fixed after just three sessions, I became a believer.  The god dam relief of not hacking your guts up over strangers was palatable.  I’m telling you, for the first month people were shooting me filthies and covering their babies.  And once, during the watching of a play, the people next to me changed places several times during the show to get away from me.  And one of them was my own husband.

The cute gang rock it out at the museum

So there you go.  Almost 2 months in Australia,  - pumping out shit, sticking needles in my head, and hacking up gorbies all over people - Time flits by very quickly.  I’m going to Tassie on the weekend, and when I get back it’s all systems go for Israel.  Another month, another giant pack-up.  Looking forward to planting my arse in Tel Aviv, where I refuse to move from…..unless The US bombs the next door neighbours……Here's to diplomacy.....

Fuck chemical weapons - just get a team of giant tarantulas on the job