Wednesday, August 23, 2006

So my new best friends, The Internet People, have lovingly given me a dial-up account to get me by while they're activating the broadband at my place, for which I have offered to have many of their babies. I am free and easy with cash now that John is earning zillions and I am not petrified of ending up destitute, homeless, and wearing a hessian sack.

Ok, so not zillions. But, let's face it - it doesn't really take much to seem affluent in comparison to my piddling wage. Curse my wretched job. Curse it to hell.

John: [sighs after hanging up the phone]
Me: What's up?
John: Oh, I've just been offered another job, that's all.
Me: SHUT UP, GITFACE.

I have been trying to convince him that, as his girlfriend, it's my right to quit my job and live off him like a parasite, but he does not agree. But! He has agreed that it would be a good idea for me to tell Large Insurance Company to go and eat a plateful of their own excrement, wave my middle finger suggestively, swear like a drunken sailor, and hand in my notice, so I can stop moaning and hoping that death comes sooner than the next phone call.

Which is a fabulous - yet frightening - idea. Back on the unemployment train to Poorville. I am thinking that I will hold off until John buys a car, so I can scam some discounted insurance (yes, the only perk), and then quit. Ha!

The latest:
  • The weekend involved mucho drinking (ten drinks, people. TEN.) and due to my extreme cadbury nature I have a million black spots. In my memory, that is. Not on my face. Though I've spent the last couple of days slightly zitty in an 'I'm thirteen, how 'bout you?' sort of way. Probably because of the ten drinks. Ten drinks! I am surprised that I am not dead, to be honest. Thank God those bartenders were being stingy with the vodka. Wait. Actually. CURSE THOSE BASTARDS.
  • I ate a slice of chocolate pizza. Yeah!
  • I have a wisdom tooth. Well three, actually, but let's focus on this one in particular. It is pushing its way out and feels like it has almost completely burrowed through my cheek. When I reach up and touch my face, I am expecting a big hunk of tooth to be hanging out through a gaping hole in my face. The growing part isn't causing me too much discomfort, to be honest - it's the fact that the son of a bitch seems to be reshaping the inside of my mouth. "Oh, this bit of cheek is in the way, I'll just HACK IT OFF. I'll just make room for myself by creating FESTERING WELTS." It's quite shite, to say the least.
  • Has anyone seen a (cough) movie called (cough) Wild Orchid? If they are not actually (cough) doing the business in that final scene then I will eat my hat. Hooray for pornography!
  • (But boo for Mickey Rourke. That son of a bitch scares me.)
That's it. Spent.

7 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

What is a chocolate pizza like? Chocolate topping? Chocolate dough?

8:19 pm  
Blogger Enny said...

As icky as it sounds - look after those skin flaps over your wisdom teeth! Before I had mine out one of the skin flaps got infected (food under it apparantly) and sent pain thru all sinus cavities in the vicinity... MOST PAINFUL THING EVER!

9:02 pm  
Blogger lucy said...

Ok, so the gitface made me laugh and the fin 'spent' made me snort.

You are a funny girl.

Oh and you should so become a kept woman, I imagine it would be awesome.

9:11 pm  
Blogger audrey said...

I majored in Gender Studies at uni and have a mass crush on Ariel Levy for the brilliant, brilliant piece of work that is Female Chauvinist Pigs.

But!

I have to admit I'd be perfectly happy, given I was also in love, to marry a wealthy, productive man and live a life of beautiful sponging.

Just think! Time to write, to read, to pamper, to watch daytime cinema - if you could hook up a little part time job, say, working in a bookstore then this would be my dream come true.

Hurrah!

10:51 pm  
Blogger GBE said...

Joi, it was at a Brazilian restaurant, and it was basic pizza dough with gooey chocolate stuff in the middle, as well as slathered all over the top. They put some strawberries on top too. It was mighty impressive. I wanted to take a picture but feared people would think I was a big weirdo. I almost ate all of it before clutching my stomach and moaning that I was so full I was about to die.

Enny, I shall try my darndest to look after my skin flaps. I shall also say 'skin flaps' at every opportunity. Skin flaps! I wouldn't want food stuck in my skin flaps, because my skin flaps wouldn't feel like skin flaps anymore, and that just wouldn't be good for my skin flaps.

Lucy, I have it all planned out. I am going to buy a shiny car and also a horse which I shall ride around Brisbane every day. Plus, at least twenty books per week, and I will import peanut butter M&M's from the US and Minstrels from the UK and gorge to my hearts content.

Audrey, it sounds lovely, doesn't it. I think I would have to do some sort of job, and if money didn't matter I could quite happily travel about and write freelance, knowing full well and not caring that nobody would pay me for it. Oh, that's the life.

5:43 pm  
Blogger Winter said...

12 drinks (plus or minus a half, I don't really remember the last bit) is my record.

6:22 pm  
Blogger GBE said...

Winter, that is pretty impressive. I once did six shots of tequila and BOY was I drunk. I wasn't just watching the room spin - I was watching the universe spin. I fell into bed and don't remember taking off my clothes, yet woke up completely naked and with a bin full of vomit next to the bed. Gah.

8:34 am  

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