Pre Bi-Monthly Syndrome

I think what they are to me is what I am to the others. Which is probably how I know that it's quite bad, and that I should do something about it.

I always forget what font I do these things in because my cycle only happens once every eight weeks. I'm pretty sure it's the default font thought, because I don't ever remember changing it before.

Borat is dumb, but then everyone else laughs at what he says and then they say what he says and laugh at their saying it because it sounds like the funny thing that he says. Which secretly aren't actually funny. It's like Seth Rogen but even less intelligent. Because at least Mr Rogen is saying clever-y things, but Mr Baron Cohen says "Penis sex nice!" and then everyone goes "hahahahaha".

So I went to Her house to help the present, and instead we spent three hours looking for her friend's keys. And when I went to buy an icecreams for us from down the road and I came back the doors and curtains were shut and the tv was still on. Then noone was there for half an hour. So I went upstairs to the flat, then I went back down and everything was open but the tv was off. So I went in the computer, and after another ten minutes they came back and didn't answer when I asked where did they go. And then she yelled at me computer. And then they thought I was being rude because I seemed annoyed. Then I couldn't find my glasses and then they laughed and ran into her room and locked the door. I spent half an hour looking for the glasses. They were under the Christmas Tree. And then they both went to dinner and I had to walk home. And then I tried to make plans with Her and she said that I was being frusturating because she didn't understand what I wanted to sort out. Then she said I was being ridiculous for wanting to know how we were getting there, what time we were going, what time we were leaving, and how were getting home at 2am from Town.Then her phone stopped working. So she txted me and she asked me what I wanted and I replied and then she didn't. So now I'm not going and I don't care.

Isn't that strange? This is what I mean by that firs thing I said, one lot of my friends are to me what I am to the other lot of friends. So that's how I know that I'm being a dick and I'm really, really sorry.

I'm 49% Indie and a Movie God, and my life is rated R18.

People I don't know asked me about who I thought was being disloyal on the internet.

My sister has started calling me "dickhead" and "faggot" and then asking if she can borrow ten dollars. I wonder if I was like that three years ago. I sure hope not.

I want to write lyrics to songs that I sing badly, but the humor won't come across if it's just the words. I don't think... I don't know actually. Let's try;

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmhhhhhwhat you saaaaaaa-aay WHAT did you sayrarara - ra - ah - ah - rama rama-ma ga-ga-ohhlala lollipop you make my heart go giddyup you are as sweet as candy man can who can make the sunshine wooooooooaoooooooah I'm walking on sunshine and it makes me feel good!!"


My blogs don't make sense... or maybe not as much as I imagine they do...

"I'm Sorry Frodo... I was delayed"

That girl being dead is sad.
That other girl being excited to remember me is unexpected.
That other girl calls me "amazing" and "pretty".
That other girl is too caring.
That other girl is Not Sharp.
That other girl's parents are away so she should have a sweet party.
That other girl who I quite like's birthday is tomorrow.
That other girl I am still friends with, despite unhelpful conditions.
That other girl remembered not to bring shorts.
That other girl killed my phone.

This boy wants to get with
This boy who I think got with
This boy who was uninvited and Camp.
This boy made my leg die.
This boy was on drugs.
This boy had chocolate.
This boy had bubbles.
This boy had Roast Beef.
This boy had none.
This boy had a birthday and our family freaked about the six beers in the cooler.

It's nice how a worse photo can mean a better picture;
see here, it's a good photo





















but here I look so much better.




















they're just not the same person.

'Do you know what's funny?'
' "Titian's bi-monthly cycle" '

Skittles and Bandicoots and A Plowman's Lucnh

There was a photo, and it made me think 'she is Heaps Good Looking why is she getting with that Heaps Ugly Guy' and then I was confused becasue Heaps Ugly Guy was never that heaps ugly in my memories of him. The photo also made me wonder why my age is so sporadic in photos, it only adds to the confusion. I was fourteen in the photo, goodness me.

I like it when you discover people have been whinging about you in a Blog. It makes me try harder to stop doing the things that make the Whinging in the first place, because I want people to like me.
I know people tell me to not do the the things directly but I totally don't respond to those, because I have a frequency for uselessness.

I didn't do anything today, but I didn't do the anything at another house, so it was great fun. That's why Rebecca's house is great.

"Eye Gold
Thigh of Blue
True is False
Who is who?
Swirl of gown
Curl of Lip
Ace of Hearts
Face of Clown
Faces!
Drink it in
Drink it up
'till you drown in the light;
But who can name the face?"

The Cool People who's Blogs I read put lots of quotes in their Blogs. I want to be cool, so I am following this trend. These words have been stuck in my head all day.

Miranda is Cross-stitching and Listening to jazz. That is cool.

I love Rebecca. Maybe one day I will write a delirioustiredIhatetheworld Blog of affection for her too.

Parties and Powercuts

That Australian from that Australian Soap Opera that isn't entirely bad was in Transformers, and her accent was undefinable, and therefore unenjoyable. The film had heaps of allusions to sex and drugs and stuff, sometimes they weren't ve nallusions, it was actually jsut the sex and the drugs.
Emily and Sadhanna and Elizabeth were sitting infront of us on one side, and behind us on the toher was Callum, Jorge, Richard and Dali, none of whom I knew were on talking basises with each other.

It is Mieke's 17th tonight. Ruby was invited. I did not like this. Ruby understood. But mother didn't and decided that I was incredibly selfish, so she confiscated my candles. Because the power in our region is ho'ren'dus.

Rebecca called me a TwatFace. Aw. She kind of deserved to, but hardlyReally. So whatever.

Phil made an amusing Donut out of felt and stitching, it looked delicious.

Claire's gift from Rebecca sounded nice, bit I feel bad becasue I feel like I may've been the reason for why she had to use her nails instead of a stick for the glockenspiel.

"The French are upset"

Such a one is a natural philosopher

weeeeoh look at me I'm blogging.

I have to find a new internetWord that means excitement. I'm thoroughly bored of 'weeeeoh'.

Wouldn't the world be a far more hilarious place if everyone had the unlocatable accents of the people of Fargo. That'd be great. At least that way all the tedious questions that we find pesky would then be hilarious.

I can't be going anywhere for at least another fourty eight hours because my arm decided to do an encore performance of last weeks inflation and colour changing brilliance!!

My parents dress funny. My sister doesn't know the meaning of 'tussock'. And my arm is falling off.
I am so fucking cool.