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.