Remember how sometimes I used to make you cookies? You used to beg me to make them and always said that I made the best cookies in the entire world and that they were even better than Mrs. Higgins cookies... They were Mrs. Higgins cookies. You buy frozen dough at the supermarket and bake them for about fifteen minutes. 

Girl vs. Boss | Let the games begin.

BOSS: Hey, do you like Kei$ha?

GIRL: Not particularly; why’s that?

BOSS: No real reason.

*two hours later*

BOSS: I bought us a little treat when I went out for lunch.

GIRL: Ooooh! I love treats! What is it?!

*boss turns up volume on his computer speakers*

GIRL: Kei$ha? THAT is your treat?!

BOSS: Yip! When you said you didn’t really like her, I picked up some potential aggravation in your tone of voice. Now that I’ve bought her album and I have total control over the volume, the rest of my plan should come together quite nicely.

GIRL: Your plan?

BOSS: Well you know, I just thought we could start some sort of office war or something? You vs. Me. That kind of thing...

GIRL: Huh?

BOSS: Well we’re accountants and its winter, so we have numbers AND the cold bringing us down right now.  I thought this might brighten things up a bit, you know... you and me constantly planning revenge and all that...

GIRL: It didn’t occur to you that whiskey would fix both those problems?

BOSS: I didn’t think of that. Maybe next year?

*silence*

BOSS: It’s your turn by the way.

GIRL: What for?

BOSS: Were you not listening?! It’s your turn to plot against me. You get it? And then once you’ve done that and gotten me back for the Kei$ha thing, it’s my turn again. Great, right?

Girl & Boss (again)

BOSS: Why are you so chipper and flighty today?

GIRL (said as fast as humanly possible): I-don’t-know-why-really. I-just-have-so-much-energy-today! I’m-totally-frittering-right-now!

BOSS: Child.

GIRL: Child?! Hmpfff

 *5 minutes later*

BOSS: You’re still all over the place! It’s like a hurricane every time you speak or move! Seriously... what is going on?

GIRL: Nothing-I-just-have-lot’s-of-energy-today-and-tomorrow-I’m-playing-indoor-soccer-all-day-and-tonight-my-brother-is-coming-to-see-me-and-I’ve-just-had-such-a-great-week-haven’t-you-too?

BOSS: You need to-

GIRL: So-yeah-I-just-feel-really-edgy-today-it’s-great-and-I-just-feel-like-work-has-been-really-good-this-week-and-I-got-lots-done-and-

BOSS: Shut up!

*silence*

GIRL: Hey, what do you think about...

BOSS: You can’t do it can you?

GIRL: Probably-not-definitely-not-today!

BOSS: Take one of these.

*hands girl half of a suspicious-looking pill*

GIRL: What-is-this?!

BOSS: A natural relaxant, read the bottle.

*girl reads bottle*

*gulp*

*twenty minutes later*

GIRL: ...and-then-on-Saturday-night-I-might-go-nd-see-my-aunty-and-I-will-take-my-brother-and-they-got-a-new-puppy-so-we-will-see-the-puppy-too-and-I-read-this-thing-on-the-internet-about-formaldehyde-and-it-didn’t-say-anything-about-going-blind-like-you-said-and-I-heard-this-song-last-night-and-it-was-awesome-i’ll-send-you-the-link-you-will-

BOSS- Did that pill seriously do nothing for you?!

GIRL: Nope!

BOSS: That’s insane! I fall asleep on a half dose! That’s what I gave you, right? Half?

GIRL: Yip!

*boss picks up keys and phone*

BOSS: See you on Monday, I can’t handle this.

GIRL: Oops :/

Python-God-Man

People talk about their "good books". Teachers refer to students being in their "good-books" or their "bad-books". Parents talk about their children in the same way, and friends talk about their friends in this way too.
Well I only have one book. It's a pretty cool book too. Like most people, the book exists in my mind; it isn't a physical object. My book is probably very different to yours tho. Because these "books" are in our minds we can let our imaginations go crazy and make them anything we want! Maybe your book is a distinguished-looking, leather-bound edition, or maybe you cut a whole lot of letters out of an old magazine and pasted them on the front of your book and then stuck duraseal on top and now it's all kinda damp looking underneath because you didn't let the glue dry properly first. It could even just be a standard Warwick 1B5 exercise book. I don't know what yours is, but let me tell you, mine is amazing. Way cooler than yours.


My book is green; the perfect shade of green.When I am thinking about a friend and wondering what "class" they fit into, I say (in my head), "Good-book, does **** deserve a star?" Then cool stuff starts to happen.
First of all I begin to hear a hissing sound. Then some more. And more and more and more until hisses are resounding in my head. Slowly my book begins to morph into a man. But this isn't just any man; he is Python-God-Man. When he pops out I always feel the need to sing a song and then just stare at him in wonder while angels dance around his head singing "hallelujah", as their halo's cast him in the most glorious light you have ever seen. And he really is a god. He's the most perfect man you have ever seen. He has perfect hair too;  short, but not too short, but not too long either, just perfect. And it's brown, not too dark, and not too light; it's perfect-brown. And he's wearing jeans, which, as you can expect, are perfect; they're so close to being black, but they aren't, they're just the perfect shade of dark indigo. His skin is the perfect shade too, and he has the most irresistible smile you have ever seen. He's a God. A true God.On the occasions when he pops out of the book my heart always skips a few beats, and I know if you saw me, my eyes would be glazed over and I would have a very vacant look on my face. But I'd be smiling; a guilty-little-pleasure smile. 


Once I have managed to control myself after the initial shock of seeing the most perfect man in the whole wide world in my head, more crazy stuff starts to happen. It relates back to that hissing noise. Suddenly severally silky snakes burst out of his perfect abdomen. They are pythons. You see, Python-God-Man can not speak;
I still can't decide if this is a flaw or not. Maybe the perfect man is silent, which would then allow me to ramble on to my hearts content? I think I would enjoy that. Anyway, he communicates to me through his pythons. When I ask him about a friends current rating or class, or when I ask him if they deserve a gold star or not, the pythons burst from him holding shiny, silver, zippo lighters, and they soar accross the sky and form letters with their flames, that spell words. These words are answers.I know in my heart that when Python-God-Man has spoken, the truth has been revealed. I would never even dream of questioning his judgement; surely such a perfect being could't make a single mistake? After he has revealed the answer I usually spend some more time just staring at him. I could do that all day; and I do, frequently. When I'm having a bad day, I know that all I need to do is call on him. He fixes everything. If I was to say I am "in love" with anyone, I would probably name him. I don't love easily, so that's a pretty big call.


So, there you have it, I told you my book was way cooler than yours.

I like this

Bad Weekend

Right now I'm in a slightly bad mood, so I'm going to talk about my weekend, but only the bad things. I know that's not fair, because parts of my weekend were great, but I'm going to anyway, because I can.


-I was sick on Thursday night / Friday (tummy bug)
-A friend attempted to run into a very fast car (bad injuries and mental state)
-A fire started at a bar I was at (evacuation)
-My handbag got stolen including my licence (identity theft and all-round pain in the butt)
-Someone stood on one of my toes really hard (broken)
-I shared my tiny bed three nights in a row (bad sleep) *ps. just friends only, I'm not The Scandal*
-I had a car crash this morning (broken car)
-My laptop got scratched from flying through my car during the crash (lack of aesthetics)


RESULT: My mental state is starting to wear thin. 

Girl vs. Boss || episode 2

BOSS: * steps into the office an hour late and has very red, bloodshot eyes*

GIRL: “I see you rinsed your eyes with acid again this morning.”

BOSS: “Shut up.”

GIRL: “Fun night? Your mail’s on your desk, you have three voice messages, and 67 emails. Oh and here’s your coffee.”

BOSS: “That’s more like it, woman. Submit! If you just kept quiet and did ironing and cleaning and stuff, you could live a content life.”

GIRL: “I plan on living a content life that is not based on doing what you tell me to do.”

BOSS: “You have way too many aspirations for a woman. You should be realistic.”

GIRL: “Well then, what do YOU think my aspirations should be?”

BOSS: “Work for me for the rest of your life.”

GIRL: “I’m moving overseas.”

BOSS: “Why would you want to do that?!”

GIRL: “To get away from you.”

BOSS: “You’re kidding, right?”

GIRL: “Nope. You’re a bit of a bastard actually.”

BOSS: “That’s a bit harsh.... I probably deserve it though.”

GIRL: “Trust me, you do deserve it.”

BOSS: “Shit.”

GIRL: *thinks to herself... holy crap, why did I just say that??!! Suddenly I feel like I actually have to move away now! WHY DO I SAY THINGS WITHOUT THINKING??!!*

My Boss, My Ex.

GIRL: "Who was the complete idiot who looked after this account last year?"

BOSS: "Me."

GIRL: *giggles a little bit because she knows it annoys him*

BOSS: * throws two pairs of scissors at her because he knows it annoys her*

GIRL: * picks up boss’s favourite letter-opener and throws out window*

BOSS: *squirts muscle cream into girls’ coffee*

GIRL: *sighs* "I'm going to be the mature one and end this battle by refusing to fight back."

BOSS: "I knew I would win. You need to learn to be submissive, woman."

GIRL: *silently plots revenge*

 There really is nothing quite like working for your ex.

Being Stuck In An Elevator.... Terror

On Wednesday night I completely innocently entered a lift...a lift that jolted it's way from the fourth floor, all the way down to ground level... It was utterly terrifying! It's the kind of thing that creepy movies are made of. Once the lift had settled onto the ground floor, I pushed the OPEN button over and over and over again. It refused to even move. By this point I was almost tearing my hair out in panic! I began to recall every horror movie I've seen that involves a lift, I DO NOT recommended doing this. While thinking about this, a faint buzzing sound began to emanate from above me. I soon found myself huddled in the corner in the fetal position, my eyes wide and shifty, my hands shaking. It was at that point that I noticed a little screen high up on the wall. In my irrational state, with blurred eyes, I saw the screen flicker. Then slowly a cloud of static began to torment my vision. The screen flickered again and the static disappeared, revealing a white face. I stood up to look a little closer. The face was hideous. It was a white painted mask, with swirling twirling red circles on the apples of it's cheeks. It's eyes were dark-rimmed, red, sunken, circles of death. It's jaw hung open like a mechanical freak. I started to cry. Just small, quiet cries. I was too scared to sob uncontrollably, although I wanted to more than anything else. Suddenly, a deafening noise frightened me into silence..... 


"Time to play a game Lydia!
You will be thankful for all the great things in your life from this day on...
...If you survive, that is. Mwa ha ha ha...
Let's start round one shall we? 
You see the trap door above you? You have to go through it.... if you want any chance of surviving.
You have three minutes to find the key for the trap door and climb out where your next task awaits you.
If you don't complete this in time, you will be dropped.... ten thousand million metres... with eleven hundred poisonous snakes... and screws winding into your skull... and bear traps on your feet... and your hands in buckets of used needles... and hooks in your eyeballs....fifty hooks...and fire...lots of fire!


The key is somewhere in your body. I will give you a clue... It is somewhere between your mandible and your  calcaneus... 


There is a twenty-cent coin on the floor. Get to work. Your time starts NOW!"








I think it was at that point that I passed out.

Why did I forget my work records book today?

Why did I dream about Taco Bell last night?

Why did I decide to dye my hair very late last night?

Why did my coffee have literal dirt in it this morning?

Why did I terrify myself by watching a horrifically scary movie very early this morning?

Why does my car sometimes make dying noises?

Why do I offer people free haircuts?

These are such deep and relevant questions.

I am in a ponderous mood.

P.S...liar.

"Smile, honey. Smile!"
I smile, and it's fake.
You don't notice my,
Fingers start to shake.


You take more photos,
To capture my life;
The last one catches
The glint of a knife.


SNAPSHOTS


"That last one was bad,
Lift your head to the light."
I hold back my rage
With all my might.


Naked, under the lamps,
My sweat begins to run.
With just one erroneous move,
My life could be done.


SURVIVE.


"Baby," I say, "It's time,
Just hold me tight."
You come closer;
You enter the light.


Your hands grab me,
But mine are quicker.
I stare with glee,
As your eyes flicker.


KILLERS.


You're still now and
I caress your face.
My cold heart beats,
At a thrilling new pace.


I gently pull your face to mine,
The crimson pools like a sea,
For one final photo of
Dead you, and me.


THRIVE.

Prepare to be visually assaulted

As I’m sure most people have noticed, the weather is starting to change, and the temperature is starting to drop a little. Now, while I do love winter, there is a certain element of hatred that exposes itself in me at this time of the year. The reason for my inordinate outbursts of hatred?...

                               

These are an absolute abomination! Do they say "sexy" to you? Heck no! They say "I'm lazy" or "I smell like ass" or "I can't please a man" or " I blindly follow celebrity fads"...... quality people! 

You can guarantee that as soon as the temperature drops even slightly, your poor eyes will be assaulted by these evil carriers of fashion failures. Admittedly, I do have a pair of these myself, but in my defence

 a) someone gave them to me as a gift

 b) the person that gave them to me is no longer my friend (see above)

c) one day I might be the last person on earth

d) a troupe of giant shoe and sock-eating slug-coyotes might come and eat every single sock and shoe on the planet as well as the resources to make them, leaving us left with ugg boots alone, in a world where only those that have ugg boots will survive. ( I would choose death)

I have definitely just convinced myself to throw mine out. No... I will burn them.

So this is an official warning:

THEY ARE ON THEIR WAY!

THEY ARE DANGEROUS!

ANY PERSON WHO EVEN GLIMPSES A PAIR OF THESE MUST COVER THEIR EYES AND LIGHT A MATCH!

One big failure of a day

So far my day has been one huge failure...
I woke up and my carpet was wet, the washing machine had leaked and soaked through my wall to my bedroom floor.
I couldn't wear my favorite pair of work shoes because they were wet from the washing machine flood.
My car took ten minutes to start so I was late for work.
I printed a whole lot of important work stuff on the wrong paper.
I went to have a break only to discover I had run out of cigarettes and had left my eftpos card at home.
I then went to get a coffee with the coins I had and discovered I was short by 50c.
I decided to just sit in my car and listen to music for a few minutes, but today all my cd's decided they were too scratched to play.
I remembered that I had some crackers at work, so I went to get them but someone had eaten them all and just left me the empty packet.
I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and slipped on something someone had spilt on the floor.
It's only 1.20pm... I'm here till 5.30pm... please pray for me...

the right to call it a day

Slowly, gently,
Drifting, falling.
Shouting, begging,
Frantic calling.
Whisper, whisper,
From far away.
You leave this world,
And still, I stay.
 
My friend, my friend,
How can you be,
A right and proper,
Friend to me,
If constantly,
Near once a day,
This silly little
Game you play?
The one where you
Simply drift away.

“thank god men cannot fly, and lay waste the sky as well as earth”

(h. thoreau)