Real Life Adrian Mole

This is from an actual teenage boy's blog. I think its really funny. Its like real life Adrian Mole.

"Because this place is starving for updates, I will report something that happened in school today that I can't shake off my mind. Thank goodness I lack enough dignity to do this.I have a classmate called Emily, and she has a well-developed bosom. The kind that pops up from any t-shirt she may wear. Today, she was wearing an orange tee that was plain, except for a big green logo right on the chest. Due to a past accident, I usually avoid looking at a radium of 1 meter from where she is, for fear my eyes may slide to her boobs and I get caught looking. However, today a friend of hers, who gave her the shirt, asked me my thoughts on the garment. Because the shirt was mostly plain, I thought at the time that it would be a good strategy to just snap my eyes onto her chest for 2.5 seconds, remove them and say it looked "okay." Emily frowned upon me all day. This accounts for the third time I fail her similarly. Ah well. None of this would happen if I weren't in masturbation abstinence for so long."

Happy Cheerful Retail Borg

Yippeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Its my last day at the bookshop. I would like to commemorate the experience by remembering-

The charming customers who....

• Believe I am somehow interested in helping them find books.
• Spy on me, then tell the boss I had the music too loud (Crank up Ludwig Van, MAAN!!)
• Or that I eat tins of tuna at the front desk. Because I don't get a lunch hour, knobs.
• Get really angry about a stick/snake in a picture of an otherwise perfect sand dune, and believe this is a good reason to return the book and yell at me.
• Think I am a career shop assistant, and that there is something wrong with that.
• Are never as attractive as Joel in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and who never call me Clementine, or make jokes about Huckleberry Hound.
• Call me Miss. Thats Ms to you. In fact I prefer Excuse Me.

And my Extra charming EX boss who...

• Believes that music consists of Handel, Beethoven, Mozart and friends, and other totally cheesy composers. Is unimpressed by all innovative or 20th century composers.
• Believes that lunch hours are for pussys.
• Writes me big lists of mistakes I made the previous day.
• Answers the phone with "you made a big mistake yesterday.." Like, hello to you to!
• Thinks I am the most dim and incompetent person in the whole work force. Yes, I make mistakes. Because I am a) still wasted from the party last night and b) don't give a flying fuck anyway.
• Thinks I'm going to be a "smile on the dial" smirking happy retail borg when she is constantly rude to me. Nup. See previous dot point.
• Refers to the erotica books as ''filth", when most of them are really artistic and cool.
• Is really, really rude to everyone except old rich people. Way to go in retail dude!
• Tells me to do shop jobs before surfing the internet. I would run on the road naked tearing up bits of the books and throwing the pieces into the air if I did that, because the work's so boring my mind would snap.
• Thinks its ok to tell me on Saturday that I'm working on Monday.
• Thinks its ok to pay me completely at random, never, never on the same day of the week.

Yay for not being a bookslave any more!!!!

Lets all meet up in the year 2000

I found a link to my old website. On a list of bad site. A Berkeley university web design course was listing examples of 'what not to do'... and my site was one of only ten links. The ten worst internet sites they found while trawling around in 2000 looking for really bad sites. At least they said it was infamous. I'm sure it was a bad design... I wrote it in early high school, in code!!! I didn't even have an HTML editor, or a book on web design!!! Knobs. I think I'll email them and tell them they have to design me a better one. Because this one's pretty crap too, it looks exactly the same as everybody else's and I can't remember my code changing skills. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe the crapness of my old design actually helped make it infamous though. Oh well. Now I really have to become a rock star so I can have an excuse to get some web design persons to make me a new website. I feel the need for an excuse because now we have blogs, it seems a bit weird to have your own website just hosting some "infamous rantings and ravings". Or really, utterly bad teenage poetry. That got incredibly bad marks at school. However, the sort of poem that got good marks was a trite piece of rubbish (not written by me) based on a train journey, in which each new passenger was a character from the bible. (I think that was it, but then I probably gagged before I got to the end. ) I think these two really traumatic experiences are why I am firmly committed to keeping my imaginary band instrumental, maybe with the odd guest singer... because I'm so not exposing myself to ridicule by trying to write lyrics!

New Death Metal Song

I want some ugly growling Swedish dude in a loin cloth to perform these lyrics. Guitars (chords forthcoming) tuned way down with heavy distortion.

Axis
Of Evil.
Department
Of Doom.
Fascist
Bureaucracy.

Centrelink.
Centrelink are Evil.

Evil.

Evil.

Evil.

Evil.
+

So many cute boys..

.. So few cute straight single boys! The cute straight boys bring their cute girlfriends. The cute gay boys bring their cute boyfriends. Or not, which is worse if my gaydar is having an industrial action day. The single boys are ugly. The unattractive boys know I work here. They say "how serendipitous" when they see me here. Wow, how lucky. You turned up at my work and I was here. Cool.
Then there are the beards. I love beards on old men, they're adorable. They're also sexy on people who are so painfully good looking that even a bushy, Ned Kelly like creation doesn't matter. Otherwise, boys, get a life and learn when your tastefully urban, euro stubble is getting out of hand, and trim it a bit.
So there.

Ten Things You Always Wanted To Know About Hedgehogs (But Were Too Afraid To Ask)

1. Reindeer like to eat hedgehogs!
2. The international dialling code for hedgehogs is 672.
3. Hedgehogs can squeeze its entire body through a hole the size of its beak.
4. Hedgehogsolatry is the mindless worship of hedgehogs.
5. Two grams of hedgehogs provide enough energy to power a television for over twenty-three hours.
6. It takes 8 minutes for light to travel from the Sun's surface to hedgehogs!
7. The condom - originally made from hedgehogs - was invented in the early 1500s!
8. While performing her duties as queen, Cleopatra sometimes dressed up as hedgehogs.
9. Most bottles and jars contain at least twenty-five percent recycled hedgehogs.
10. You share your birthday with hedgehogs.

How Embarrassment

I was reading a magazine yesterday and it had an article about a new book. The book was a list of things people love, but would never admit it. I thought I would share my own top 3 with my reader (singular. Thanks for reading my blog Pauline!) . Plus, I really dig lists. Especially numbered lists, how anal am I?

1. I like the 'how embarrassment' column in Girlfriend magazine. In fact, I just love immature mags in general. Mainly, because I can afford the clothes. Also, because unlike Cleo and Cosmo, the relationships in Girlfriend somewhat resemble mine. They last for 2 weeks, both weeks are very fraught, and they never really seem to progress beyond "first base"*

2. If West Lakes was closer to town, I would consider living there. I love 80's houses , cul-de-sacs, and lakes that probably have tiles at the bottom. WL has real kitsch appeal, because it was once so shiny and pleasantville but really isn't any more since the yuppies went and live in some other perverted yuppie land. If I lived in west lakes, I would constantly play Eric Prydz, except when I wanted to listen to Tears for Fears.

3. I make Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade 'in jokes' to my dog. When I can't find my diary, I put on a Sean Connery slur voice and say to Phoebe "We musht get the diary!" She totally knows what I mean.

*Except for tacky one night stands, of course.