Friday, 4 November 2011

So last night my housemate figured out I needed a talk, it might have been the Limp Bizkit or possibly me spray painting 'for lease to leprechauns' over my door.  And she was like, hey don't freak out about this centrelink/my job/CFS/medication crap.  There's still things we could try.  Then she suggested frontal lobotomies which cheered me up immensely, and I was like I would TOTALLY buy a ticket on that ride.  Then we started making retarded drool faces and acting out the music video to Thriller.

But then I read something on this blog that there's this endangered South American frog that secretes juice 100 times more powerful than morphine that's also not addictive and she was like WE NEED TO SAVE MORPHINE FROG AND BTW WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE AND WHERE CAN I FIND ONE.

So now I'm amending my lobotomy plan to 'I would totally buy a ticket on that ride if they throw in a morphine frog'.  Cos that would be one heck of a party.  Then I thought, it would be like in that episode of the Simpsons where everyone thinks there's an alien in the forest but it's really Mr Burns hooked up to an IV.  And everyone was super friendly.

ETA:   You know what would be even better that a morphine frog?  A zombie morphine frog.  Cos they're UNDEAD.  So it wouldn't go and die on you, and you'd never have to source a new one, or try and breed them.  Plus, zombies eat brains, so you wouldn't have to get a real lobotomy, your frog would be a handy all-in-one solution.  And it would drool morphine, cos zombies drool, and I would also drool cos it had eaten my brains, and we'd be drooly best buddies.  The only downside is, a zombie morphine frog is so cool, lots of people would want one, so me and morphine frog would have to travel the globe running away so no one would catch us.  We'd be outlaws, like Robin Hood.  But with morphine.

ETA 2:  I just remembered that if you OD on morphine you can die, but it would be okay cos I'd just get zombie frog to turn me into a zombie too.  I think they do that by biting.  Except that frogs don't have any teeth which could be a problem, so I might have to cross it with a vampire too, because you can't be a vampire and not have teeth, so zombie morphine frog would have to grow teeth.  But I wouldn't use the sparkly kind of vampire.  They're really gay.

ETA 3:  I should probably let you guys know that if I do get turned into a lobotomised zombie vampire, which let's face it is a legitimate risk, I would fully promise not to come after you and eat your brains or whatever, cos I would be infected by a frog, so I reckon I would want to eat frogs brains or something.  Just so you all feel safe.  I'd probably be perfectly happy with a really rare steak.

Breakup Letter To The Internet

Dear Internet.  This sort of isn't working out.  Since I've been too tired to do much but spend 80% of my time in bed for the last 4 weeks, you are the obvious choice for passing the time at 2.30 in the morning or when I decide I should prooobably ease up on the oxazepam.  I mean it's been fun, but you need to shape up.  I've now looked up funny bumper stickers, anti-jokes and watched the 'Badass Honey Badger narrated by Randall' on Youtube a lot while waiting for that guy in Canada to illegally upload new Bones episodes.  You're getting boring.  Plus I think I'm stuffing up muscles in my arm by leaning up in bed to type, and it's totally your fault.  If you don't pick things up I might have to go back to reading Harry Potter and I REALLY don't want to do that cos I've already read it 3 times (forwards, backwards and forwards again, if you wanted to know).  That's your fault, internet.  Randall and the Honey Badger gives you some good seratonin the first 3 times but after a while anything will start to get old.  How hard can it be to fit the bill of 'interesting enough that I don't give up while not causing mental stress and boosting my seratonin'.  Apparently pretty hard.
Anyway, I just wanted you to know, it's not you, it's me (after all I can't be completely ungrateful for all those lady gaga videos since my ipod's mad at my laptop.)  Plus let's be honest, if I'm stuck in bed for another week I may want to give this another shot out of sheer boredom, so I sort of want to butter you up.  Hope we can still be friends.  Sincerely me.

So that's my letter. I do have one problem though... I don't know how to get it to The Internet, which is pretty important since I wouldn't want to break up with the internet and have everybody else know and the Internet be all, oh but I thought we were still together, and I had to hear it from a friend, why couldn't you tell it to my face.  Cos that's just bad manners. Does The Internet have a hotmail?  I'd totally text, but I don't want to get caught up in one of those scams where someone posing as the internet sends you lots of spam at $5.50 a message.  And I can't really tweet this, cos it's a little more than 140 characters.  It'd be way more if I translated it into binary code, maybe I should look into that to sort of soften the blow a bit, you know, show I care about where the Internet's coming from.  But seriously, if anyone knows how I can contact the internet let me know, or even if you know Bill Gates or someone, I'm pretty sure he could hook me up.  Peace out, home dogs :o)

Welcome to Awesomeland

This blog is actually 3 days old.  Magic trick number one, dudes.  It's a Fblog, not a Blog, cos it started out on Facebook, cos I was too lazy to make a real blog.  But on the plus side it now has a sort of original name, that sounds like some sort of made-up insult.  Like if someone came up and told me I was such a Fblog in attempt to piss me off, except it wouldn't work cos I'd take it as a compliment and be "aww, thanks," and then they'd be really confused at my reaction forget why they were mad at me and we'd eat cupcakes.  So it's sort of like I'm working for world peace.  Pageant queens can suck it cos they've got nothing on me.

Another bonus of my laziness is that i've already written a stack of posts, so it's gonna make it look like I'm really prolific.

I would also like to point out that the tagline for this blog about cats is just a line that I love from this video .  I don't have a cat because my mum is a frog lover and I was raised to think cats are the devil cos they murder endangered wildlife.  But don't get too upset if you love cats because there are a whole lot of things my mum thinks are the devil and I don't really believe her about those either:

- dishwashers, because they use electricity and apparently waste water
- airconditioners because they make a truckload of carbon monoxide
- microwaves because they give you cancer
- mobile phones because they give you brain tumours
- not composting because it kills the earth and gives you cancer
- plastic food containers because they leech chemicals into your food
- imported food because it's grown in rice paddies fertilized by human waste
- deodorant because it has aluminium in it that gives you altzheimers
- spray cans because they screw up the ozone layer, which then gives you cancer
- shaving your legs because it panders to anti-feminist ideals of what women should look like
- cane toads because they kill frogs (she prefers the brick-throwing - method of cane toad killing over the put-them-in-the-freezer method)
- expiry dates on food, because they are put there by multinational companies designed to cause us to waste locally grown food and put farmers out of business and give you cancer
- internet banking because people will steal your identity
- not shredding letters with your name or address on them because someone will steal your identity when they go through your rubbish and will pretend to be you and go on your internet banking and give you cancer

It may not come as a huge surprise that I find it amusing to call her while loading the dishwasher with the air conditioner on while re-heating imported takeaway in the microwave in its plastic takeaway container after shaving my legs and fulling intending to throw the leftovers in the general waste bin, after ordering the takeaway online and asking the delivery guy to take out my unshredded letter to the bin while reeking of pretty deodorant.  She is also the person I mentioned earlier who thought I shouldn't post this stuff on facebook at the risk of offending people or having people I've met once know too much about me, so maybe a bit of the paranoia rubbed off on me.  I'll probably get cancer.

Peace out, home dogs!