The perils of partying

I Attended a wedding on Saturday and fortunately was so reckless in my behaviour that I was able to put together an in depth study of the dangers involved in partaking in the party.

The first and most immediate risk is the accumulation of UPI ‘s (unidentified Party injury ) I was fortunate enough accumulate a nice variety including a grazed knee (it appears I managed to draw blood - always a good sign) a bruised elbow and some pulled neck muscles – although the neck muscles I think arose out of the urgent need I developed after the 5th tequila to be a professional tango dancer and get dipped after each reasonably well executed movement (well executed being managing to do a swing without hitting a table or innocent bystanders ) this was an interesting twist on the general tequila progression - which usually follows the pattern of on the 3rd tequila I get good looking - the 4th one rich and now an interesting spin on the 5th (which is generally when I become an all knowing genius ) I became a professional dancer …..fabulous ………. the grazed knee remains a mystery , as well as the elbow -although bruising is a generally a low order UPI and the most frequently accumulated - so I am not to preoccupied with that – the graze however certainly does take it to a new level .

Then of course you have PPR (Post Party Remorse ) now generally it is sufficient to wake up in the morning with your tongue stuck to the palate of your mouth and gagging from the foulness of your own breath , before becoming conscious enough to realise that your liver is spasming from being overworked and has actually forcefully ripped itself from your body and is currently dousing itself under the cold tap and using the shaver plug socket as a make shift defibrillator to reinstitute a pulse . At this point your kidneys are also making a break for it and so would your lungs be , however they are too weighed down by tar to get very far . Far worse than the physical symptoms of PPR however are the psychological ones , these will become immediately apparent on picking up your phone and scrolling through your call list – or what I find especially degrading is going through my sms sent items - apparently (although a carrier of the family “proud” gene - this gene becomes recessive in nature at the introduction of alcohol causing me to repetitively profess my undying love to my ex with some choice sms’s - because of course he wants to hear my spineless ramblings at 4 in the morning - in fact he finds my weak patheticness quite attractive and just can’t understand what he was thinking moving on with his life - also the challenge of deciphering poorly utilised predictive text is particularly exciting ) . such severe cases of PPR can result in further UPI’s when the victims attempt to kill themselves by flinging themselves from a window or repetitively banging their heads on a wall while wailing and gnashing their teeth

Needless to say it was a job well done and I celebrated my achievement by confining myself to the couch for the rest of the day

Burn in hell skyscan

Due to the conniving nature of the psychotic “small furry flying mammal”* skyskan service created and run by one short man with even shorter appendage who has sooooooo much time on his hands that he can muster a half hour a day between satisfactorily taking himself in hand while looking at photo’s of his mother to bounce every conceivable mail that I send , I will no longer forward any mail to “small furry flying mammal ” employees that might remotely bring any manner of quality of life into their dull existence as employees of the recipient of the secret society of anal retentive wankers company of the year award .

Nothings showers my mediocre existence with more joy and warm fuzziness than the daily bombardment of alert notifications from the “small furry flying mammal” Skyskan service . Nothing keeps me more grounded than the plethora of emails alerting me to the potentially inappropriate content of my mails , when I receive them in their Spam like abundance I am filled with such a deep sense of remorse for my unacceptable infringement of the “small furry flying mammal ” email policy that I am forced to resort to at least half an hour of self flagellation and inner reflection of my blatant and intentional contravention.

Apparently an email entitled “Words of wisdom” triggered rule 94 “Banned Words for Incoming Mail” one can only imagine how I must have upset management when I almost uprooted their evil plot to surround themselves with people far more stupid than themselves (to maintain their already over inflated and somewhat misguided egos ) by actually trying to sneak some wisdom into the company (OH MY GOD what was I thinking ) I mean "wisdom" (spit on that *ptu ptu* ) who can run a company on wisdom – survival is ensured by stupidity alone (I mean look at the over abundance of Christmas beetles flying themselves repeatedly into walls – is that not proof enough ) and I mean the word “words” – who communicates with those ???? we should go back to an advanced series of grunts and wild hand movements ....... *GNARK GNARK*

losers

*time elapses*

The bastards are joining forces (the short appendage club ) and apparently have started a movement called “project make the vein in my head explode”

How is this for a smack in the face with a cold fish (barbel)

You do not have permission to send to this recipient. For assistance, contact your system administrator.
< ******corp.lan #5.7.1 smtp; ****** This system has been configured to reject your mail>

*foot note : a small furry flying mammal is a BAT

Commitment phobic

Didn’t think I would make an entry today what with work sapping the life force out of me – I am a shell of my former self – my personality has been completely beaten out of me – okay so its largely self inflicted - not many brain cells would have survived being slammed repeatedly into a keyboard – but fortunately I escaped retardation and have got away with a frontal lobotomy instead – which I would consider a good career move as I fear the Prozac has started eating through my stomach lining .

My contract is drawing to an end and now I have the offer to go perm. Not dealing well with it – should be overwhelmed with joy as I enshroud myself in the snug stay soft smelling blanket of job security - but can’t help feeling nauseous . Think I am filled with the same fear an panic as I would should I one day (god forbid ) find myself standing at an alter (wedding alter not sacrificial – although I am not quite sure I see the difference - excuse me while I lean over and vomit in my dustbin – the notion was a little to much for me to deal with right now )

It all seems so……*ahem* ………. Permanent. All of a sudden there’s no more uncertainty to life , no freedom to make choices on a whim , no end date (apart from death of course but that could take forever to rear its ugly head - that’s why I drink and smoke so much – trying to lure the bastard out early before I get wrinkly and incontinent ) you have your life pretty much mapped out for you and the ,map says you will be doing the same thing you are doing today for the rest of your air breathing life …../..sign here and pick up your ball and chain on way out ………………. thank you and have a nice day .

Please excuse me while I go and continue my panic attack alone in the toilet

A different kind of F.U.N.

Cast your eyes back to the days of Hampstead village , of chickens in the garden and wheel less cars , of bright shiny traffic beacons placed strategically on your car roof and pot plants in your parking bay and then recall with clarity that heavenly body, that massive orb , that projectile vomiting inducing vision that could block out the sun …….. Yes let us have a moment to remember F.U.N. (Fat Ugly Neighbour).

Now what ghastly misfortune you ask yourself has forced me to return to this unhappy place, apart from the recurring nightmares and cold sweats spawned from the emotional scars left by hearing FUN pee at 4 in the morning, well it would appear that just as god created Adam and Eve the antichrist created FUN and FITGUN (foot in the grave ugly neighbour) with whom I had first encounter this morning.

Apparently FITGUN is of the opinion I drive too fast out of the complex in the mornings (I can only assume she must also get giddy at the breakneck speed mustered by a sloth under the threat of weariness ) . I drive a chico 1.3 (although it is red in colour which I am told creates the illusion of speed I am sure this is only applicable to objects that are actually moving)


Now just to paint a picture for you ….

The red chico 1.3 not only has an aversion to mornings and cold weather and on the odd occasion to forward motion in general , it is particularly not fond of starting nor warming up hence the morning ritual of forcefully removing the choke from the dashboard in a vicious backward thrust powered purely out of frustration - and sometimes utilising the high degree of difficulty manoeuvre of both choke pulling while simultaneously banging ones head on the steering wheel and swearing like a seapoint prostitute (with no teeth – similarity borne out of the fact mine are now embedded in the steering wheel ) thereafter jerking back vigorously in a flurry of petrol fumes (momentarily passing out only to regain consciousness once the fumes dissipate ) only to engage in forward motion which could easily be likened to that of a severely brain damaged three legged rabbit .

So while I am spluttering and jerking and engaging my neck brace so as not to get whiplash - and in more danger of deafening the local children with my revving then I am of riding them over – in fact road kill could probably pull itself out of the way with its teeth before I reached it – fitgun scurries up to waggle a bony finger (must be filled with a sense of achievement that she could keep up with a such a swift car as mine - should have recommended she put herself forward for a new land speed record )
And reprimand me - I was floored - I tried to run her over but the chico cut out .

I mean, god help me , is the world filled with these brain dead morons that have so little in life that they create alter realities where they enjoy perceived superiority and conceptualise that their opinion actually matters .

Will have to find out where she lives and T.P. her house

Petrol price spam

It would appear once again “bob” – failing to find a sense of worth in his current job in middle management and exhausted from freely issuing his intellectual gems on his own employees has broken out and constructed a chain mail showing insight and intellect so progressive that had he been born in the Palaeolithic period apes might have considered him above average intelligence. “bob” ‘s latest endeavour is to take on the fuel companies *hysterical laughter and rolling on the floor* excerpts from this masterpiece entitled National campaign to reduce petrol price (doesn’t it just inspire you to go running through the streets with a piece of cardboard or chain yourself to a petrol pump ) include :

“an invitation to join the resistance” can you see them all dressed in black diving and rolling from the diesel pump to the 97 and then leopard crawling across the forecourt in order to place slanderous flyer on the bill board

“we all need to take some intelligent, united action” apparently “bob” finally realized the vital flaw in his previous plan “don’t buy petrol day” ….although very intelligent it was somewhat not united – for some reason (which bob just couldn’t understand) everyone didn’t band together and take to the streets on their bicycles in a united effort to show the fuel companies who is boss. I mean have you ever heard of a more ridiculous notion – about as futile as taking zyban to give up smoking (apparently )

now “bobs” latest idea – what devilish wisdom - what sheer hand rubbing evil cackle inducing brilliance - you can’t not buy petrol ……….. you just can’t buy it from the one particular company (apparently bob only studied economics for a couple of months before dropping out - he remembers the supply and demand curve but little else - including the fact the petrol price is controlled by the Department of Minerals and Energy) so as much fun as it does sound bankrupting a fuel company bob , the only bias I will ever apply in my choice of filling up will be the station that happens to be closest when my petrol gauge hits the red (simplistic I know – but you can’t imagine how effective )

BRAVO BOB – don’t pull a brain muscle

footnote : The price of petrol is expected to go up by 36 cents a litre on Wednesday, June 2, the Department of Minerals and Energy announced on Thursday

Plight of the single girl

I choose to be single , *hysterical laughter and rolling on the floor* , for sure – why wouldn’t I , the prospect of owning a couple of cats and scaring the neighbourhood children has always been appealing .

I recently discovered that I don't really look like the ass end of a bull dog with Haemorrhoids so can’t even use that as an excuse for the fact that I am destined to be alone the rest of my life in a viscous cycle of throwing wine down my throat and throwing wine up my throat a couple of hours later. All the while listening to some poor hard done by bitch wailing her sad life story to an anthem type tempo from the latest CD geared towards woman like me (I can’t live , if living is without you …..and the like ) .

It’s a sad existence – so I don’t have to shave regulary - but I am sufficiently filled with self loathing without having to deal with looking like the wife of the missing link . (but then again even she managed to hook a man – albeit one with deep set eyes and heavy brows )

I have recently found myself crying in movies – everbody does you say ????? How many of them do it when the movie has a happy ending , am now sufficiently bitter and twisted to want to drag the rest of the world down with me . spit on happy people when they aren’t looking and stuff (although sometimes generating spit with “droogies” turns out to carry a high degree of difficulty ……. In this case resorting to kicking and biting is perfectly acceptable )

Time Management

T minus one hour until beer

T minus 8 hours until spinny head

T minus 16 hours until searing throbbing headache and uncontrollable vomiting

I like project planning my weekend