oh the hilarity

Just had to share a brief snippet of conversation between myself and dear friend E today....

E: "Yeah, you know in hindsight, I should have realised we were different after the first date".

A: *thinks to herself everything someone can do wrong on the first date* "Oh no...what happened?

E: "I sat in a corner trying not to pass out as he donated blood"

A:"What, that was your date?"

E: "Yes. Just that."

After recovering from bouts of uncontrollable laughter, I pondered the poor man's thought process behind scheduling romantic interaction at the blood bank...

Was it an attempt to impress E with his philanthropic tendencies? Or was he channelling the spirit of Cullen?

Who knows, whatever it was, its hilarious.

Thanks for the giggle E.

And here's a completely gratutious, vaguely related shot of everyone's favourite Vampire in Wayfarers.... I have to admit even I think this is quite delicious. Mainly as he is wearing my dream man outfit... oh beanies.

A's Angry Abuse

So yeah. I probably shouldn't spend so much of my life cracking the shits about people's lax facebook etiquette. I'm fairly certain there are much bigger things in the world I could worry about. But you know, climate change, world poverty, personal and governmental debt and whatnot are the fodder of my other writing (yeah, the serious kind. When my mind ventures beyond facebook and other brainless procrastination fodder).

But for now, facebook.

I have previously detailed by vehement hatred for those who cannot contain their affection for their other half to the real world, and instead clog my newsfeed with nauseating saccharine shit which reeks of insecurity rather than infatuation.

However, this rage has been not only maintained, but increased by recent pollution my poor sweet home page has had to incur.

And what is this internet crime you ask?

VIRTUAL INTERNET PORN!!

A recent e-trend which appears to be on the rise is the tendency of couples to post sexually explicit comments to each other, with absolutely NO regard for the many mutual friends who are subjected to this filthy overshare.

An example?
'Babe, you are so hot.... I can't wait for you to cum home... im going to drag u 2 bed...'

WHAT THE FUUUUUUCK????? Grammar and abbreviation issues aside, what person thinks this is acceptable?

I nearly spat dhal all over my laptop screen when reading this whilst eating dinner the other night.

I cannot fathom who undergoes rational thought process and concludes such a posting is indeed a good plan of action?

Ugh. Words fail me right now... However I'm feeling this may be grounds for defriending? I know I have personally been defriended for lesser crimes (heh heh heh).

And now for something happy...

SINGING CATS!! Like singing dogs, but better, coz they're like, you know, cats and all...

craft time: adult style

So before you go getting all upset thinking you feature in one of our blog posts (attention: you don't), you may want to count yourself lucky.

At least we channel our creative frustration with words not art and craft....

heh heh heh... check this out
Man's genitals glued by three scorned lovers


-thanks to G for the link xx

Turns Out I Was the Hot One?

Whilst our explanations of the concept of a ‘retard’ has been documented at length, our blog subtitle of ‘Turns Out I Was The Hot One’ has thus far been left swaying there, lonely in the wind and devoid of context.

I assure you, it springs not from an arrogant concept of self worth, but to a discussion L and I shared regarding a notion we coined the “Relationship Ledger”. Like an accounting balance sheet, this ledger resembled a set of scales, in which each side represented one party to the relationship. Weight was added for perceived positive attributes each person brought to the relationship, whilst negative weights could be placed for factors which were detrimental to the relationship.

Our theory was that a successful relationship was dependent upon equal contribution from each party, and that we could objectively determine our position in any engagement by reference to the scale.

However, an issue arose in the fact that these ‘attributes’ were indeed subjective and hence the scale was a faulty model.

Examples?

Well I considered ambition. At age 22, the world is supposedly my oyster. I have plans, dreams and hopes. My challenge is making these ambitions possibilities. Hence as a reasonably ambitious individual, I naturally seek a partner who shares the recognition that it is important to seek out what makes you happy and a path to this goal.

However, I recently learnt there is such a thing as too much ambition. A recent liaison with a delightful musician illustrated that it is possible to pursue aspirations to the detriment of all other aspects of life. Whilst I was content with being second in line to his musical dreams, I was not satisfied with being a relative non-entity.

Similarly, early on in a relationship way back in 2005, my partner expressed he was so attracted to my intelligence, and musical passions. It is here where I have to contradict Jack Ladder. After it emerged that my final year high school marks were higher than his, and that his position as ‘the smart one’ in the relationship was not concrete, he was not so impressed. Further contention arose when he also realised my musical sensibilities were more finely tuned than his.

Sorry Jack, but it seems that physicality could compare to our brainy affair. At least a partner with ‘legs up to here’ has a leg to stand on in the relationship.

So it seemed that our scale was destined to fail. We still remained none the wiser in our quest to understand the delicate balance which represented successful relationships.

And in the meantime, we drank the last dregs of red wine from our glasses we had previously clinked to signify a failed relationship of mine, and counselled ourselves in the fact that at least I was still ‘the hot one’. And that folks, is how blogs are born.

What's Love Got to Do With It?

Welcome, one and all to a new regular feature of this little spot: the Mass-Debate. Yes, say it out loud. It’s rude. And funny. Ha ha ha…. (see, laughter!)

Anyway, this idea sprouted directly from a conversation between the two contributors to this site as to an issue directly related to relationships and dating. We disagreed on this issue, and both began stating our cases as to why we were correct.

Then, as great minds so often do, we came to the same idea: why not redirect this energy to a more permanent form, complete with structured sentences, and less wine.

So here you have it: The Mass-Debate!

Topic One: Is love really necessary?

Carrying the flag for love is Miss A, whilst Miss L argues the point that we’re all just fine the way we are, without those pesky emotions getting in the way.

Here you go… sit down, strap in and we hope you enjoy….

This Modern Love: The affirmative from Miss A

It must be the Libran in me, but I love Love.

However let me clarify. I love deep, true and private love. I absolutely despise twee, commercialised conceptions of love. Public displays of affection make me physically ill. In fact, my friend and I have been known to throw bread rolls at those who offend our senses of public decency by engaging in some form of tongue war.

I cannot comprehend ‘chick flicks’ and am perhaps the only member of my close circle who just doesn’t quite ‘get’ Twilight (the wayfarers however, yes). Similarly, grand gestures give me no joy- the dozen roses, the teddy bears, the Valentines Day pressure- not for me.

What I do appreciate is that unparalleled friendship, bond and understanding that is only possible between two people intimately involved. Having one person able to identify your every emotion just by the way you move your hands, divert your eyes and your vocal inflections is both frightening and incredibly special.

Having someone know all of your stories, but still be happy to sit through them as you absent mindedly repeat the tale, someone that knows that it is not words that are necessary in times of crisis, but the ability to mix a good gin and tonic.

What is Love?

Love is coming home to see your boyfriend changing the oil in your car to save you having to pay for it a week before you are leaving him to go pursue London adventures.

Love is him crying at the airport dropping you, even though you will be back in a week.

Love is deciding to order takeaway so you can sit and watch Masterchef together rather than worrying about dinner.

Love is sitting in the rain, watching him play rugby every weekend for years. Love is going to his gig and watching the same songs every time, but still getting a little excited when you hear the one you know is about you.

Love is hangovers shared. Streaky day old makeup, that undeniable ‘day after drinking’ smell, and dissolving two Berocca’s rather than one.

Love is pain. Love is paranoia. Love is jealousy. Love can really hurt.

But how can one appreciate joy without its relative evil twin? Without resorting to crude make up sex references, there is something to be said for disagreement as cathartic, developmental and evolutionary to a relationship.

The pain, the hurt and the feeling of vulnerability we feel are directly related to the care, and reflective of the importance and value we place on the relationship.

To discount love for fear of hurt is to reject feeling.

I would rather endure all the lows so I can keep topping my memory bank of highs. For even when I am alone I can recall first dates, walks in the rain, nights spent in bed, man stroking your hair as you sing your favourite tunes together. I can recall holidays, birthdays, adventures and laughter, yet in all of my relationships, I struggle to remember disagreement despite its obvious presence.

And besides, without pain, how could someone produce lyrics such as these? (and how could we both empathise, and swoon to them at the same time?)

You won’t be forgotten when you leave,
You won’t fade away in the windmill of my mind
You will be named in song, that I’ll sing and suffer in a strict 4/4 time

(Thanks Jack!)

Love is Gone:Negative from Miss L

Ahhh does it really have to be 500 words long???? I’m really sick at the moment, and so I probably make no sense, but I’ve just written things I think are true and I hope it collectively relates to the question.

Some conclusions I have made following my own, combined with others’ similar, romantic experiences:

1. You can’t rely on a boyfriend’s love to make you happy. You need to be happy within yourself, and love yourself, before you can love someone.

2. Men can change their mind about how they feel about you, extremely quickly. Whether you are extremely sensitive emotionally, or not, you are going to be hurt, because he will change his mind. After this has happened a few times, you will be scared to go out with anyone new, and probably find yourself focussing your romantic energy into a narrow ‘top five crush system’. Crush #1 not fulfilling you today? Move onto Crush #2, and so on. My top five crushes include men who are wholly unattainable. No disappointment is possible. I am safe. Hopefully this unrealistic world I am fully engaged in, will be submerged by a happier reality one day!

3. While noone wants to be alone and unloved, I would much prefer to be alone than be in a self destructing relationship which will harm my esteem for at least twice as long as we are/were together. Some people say that all change, (sorry .... yr 11 english .... ) is good change. But in regards to relationships, surely the good change which inevitably follows a bad breakup or hurtful romantic experience, could have occured much earlier if you weren't a damaged soul for months? Surely, being upset and living an insular life for a certain amount of time was not as helpful as if you had avoided the trauma in the first place?!?!

4. You are not alone if you surround yourself with your closest friends. Meet your girlfriends for breakfast. It’s good.

5. If I am to venture into a 'love situation' soon, I feel at present my one relationship non-negotiable is having someone who is supportive of me, and encouraging what is the very best I can be, because that is exactly where my interests would lie towards them. Maybe we just need to be more selective in who we let in to our hearts: I have known some girls who have moved from man to man within weeks (sometimes days) of each other, and I certainly discount the belief that this is a natural, healthy and youthful living style. I think it has an overall degrading quality, and is psychologically confusing.

love should never be an aim… if it happens, it happens, if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. It is too tiring and upsetting in the end, if you invest energy and emotion into a Retard just because you're seeking a life filled with it.

[I may have to edit this when I am feeling better. Sorry if you feel you have become more stupid after reading what I've written. I hope it at least makes some sense.]

I have never debated before.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

(Not) Worth Waiting For?

Over dinner last night, Miss L, our friend N and I were discussing another friend and his blossoming friendship with a female new to his friendship circle. N pointed out our friends’ romantic intentions towards this girl, and cautioned he was getting dangerously close to being stuck in the “Friendzone”.

I nearly choked on my Merlot in surprise at such a term, whilst Miss L nodded, apparently completely understanding what N was attempting to express.

I sought definitional clarification. Rolling his eyes, N explained the Friendzone was the awkward position one can be stuck in when they have so firmly engrained the foundations of friendship, that the other party cannot envision anything beyond this type of relationship and is therefore oblivious to the burning fire held for them in another’s heart.

In short, it’s relationship limbo. A failure to christen and define spells a lifetime in platonic purgatory.

I must admit, this is a problem I have never faced. My relationships do not spring from long established friendly bonds. Rather, passionate intensity paves for a connection where it is passion first, and friendship an evolutionary, developmental step in the relationship.

As could be expected however, this fervour is not always sustained when the relationship must move beyond the transcendental honeymoon period and must weather the mundane.

On occasion it has been successful, and this has resulted in long term involvements based not only on intensely close bonds, but sustained zeal.

More often than not, ardour sizzles and dies spectacularly.

Is it a case of too much, too soon? Perhaps.

But in reverse, can there be such a thing as too slow? Is there a time period by which one must act, or risk losing the opportunity forever?

It’s a complicated issue, and I suppose from my perspective, whilst the abrupt end to a relationship coinciding with an end of ease and transition into an effort situation is desperately painful, I would prefer this to the waning and waiting for someone to recognise my true feelings veiled by an engagement couched in friendship.

Either way, it’s a pretty messy situation, so here'sa completely gratuitous shot of lovely Versailles band Phoenix. Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix makes the bad go away.

Love Games

*blog title entirely devoted to Miss L’s new-found obsession with Lady Gaga, as well as of course the most famous Mighty Boosh song, sung by my favourite little downstairs mix-up, Old Gregg*

After my post a few days ago regarding types of men I have been attracted to over the years, Miss L followed up with her assessment of the same issue with great humour and an almost gratuitous photo homage to Zac Efron….

And it struck me that according to her flipbook of sexual desires, Miss L appears quite content with a man who can rock a pair of Ray-bans with attitude (indeed she even accessorised Mr Potter!).

So if she were to compose a list of desirable attributes in a future partner, his ability to rock the glasses would come top?

Or would this be trumped by a deeper desire, more befitting of a meaningful relationship, where accessorising skills came a distant second?

In my case, I have found that whilst my surface desires are often apparently indeed that (bloody shallow), the substance of my actual relationship is deeply different from anything I would write on a list cataloguing my desired attributes.

I am not as skilled as Miss L in creating pictorial representations of dreamboat men in Paint, so instead I shall refer to a list I wrote at age 12, kept in a diary for posterity (and giggles) which describes ad nauseum, my dream boy:
-blonde hair
-blue eyes
-tall and tanned
-preferably in a boy band

Aka I saw myself marrying Taylor Hanson. I’m fairly certain I had planned the wedding and everything… with matching shoulder length blonde hair we would have quite the fetching wedding album *ugh*.

Needless to say, I never actually dated anyone remotely similar to the list I had devised in my mind (thank god!).

Similarly, if I was to compose a list of my present day desires, they would certainly not paint an image of the men I have dated in the not-so distant past. The previously depicted representation of the dirty, indie rocker is far removed from the actual man, who have all been fairly straight, university attending, high achieving individuals who would look horribly out of place pacing the stage of Spectrum.

Similarly, that swagger and arrogance intrinsically linked with guitar virtuosity would be horribly suited to a functional relationship. My relationships are big enough for my ego only.

Apparently relationship books encourage the desperate and dateless to write a checklist of what they want in a potential partner.

I wouldn’t know as I have never read one… apart from ‘The Game’. I read this after spotting it on the bookshelf of a man I was involved in next to more worthy tomes such as his Environmental Management, Physics and Australian History textbooks.
This horrified me: Did his strategic bookshelfing indicate its worth in his life? Did he religiously study this in the same way one would rote learn Einstein's theories before a final exam? Was I an assignment? Some form of assessment as to the level of his skills learnt from such studious application?


Needless to say, after leaving his apartment, I hurried across to Borders to get a Chamomile Tea to calm my shattered nerves, and a copy of Neil Strauss’s step by step guide to transform the ‘average frustrated chump’ to ‘master pick-up artist”.

I shuddered as I flicked through the pages and realised just how many of these ‘techniques’ had been trialled upon me by various men throughout my young adulthood.

And I began thinking: Is ‘The Game’ mandatory reading in boys’ high schools? Young women read Pride and Prejudice in gaining an understanding of Austen’s representations of society and relationships, whilst young men learn that ‘negging’ is the way into a woman’s pants?

So now, I compose a new checklist of desirable attributes, devastatingly effective in its simplicity:
Does not have ‘The Game’ as a seminal influence in his understanding of relationships.
See Number 1.

Hopefully then I shall avoid the awful gameplaying (pun entirely intended) experienced in the declining stages of this particular dalliance.

Pop a cap in yo' ass

Please excuse me as I take departure from the oft-referenced British humour, or Sydney indie music scene, to quote the forever wise Tupac....

I am going to print this out and put it by my bed, because seriously. Its about time I did exactly that...

Because to quote that veritable source textsfromlastnight.com, "so I saw him outside. He got fatter. I got blonder. I think the winner is obvious".

High five for positive self talk

I'm not obsessed, just impolite

So despite the knowledge that the ex was and IS in fact a retard, and that at every stage in the relationship, you were in fact the ‘Hot One, the break up and consequential aftermath still hurts like hell.

So how do we obviate the hurt? Do we obviate it? Or do we let ourselves have a big fat wallow accompanied by chocolate, wine, gin and scenes not unlike Bridget Jones’ breakdown?

Honestly, I have no idea. But my rule of thumb from past understandings is that it takes around half the duration of the relationship to move on. Until that time, you’re pretty much stuffed. Take the pain, the anger, the drunken ramblings and roll with it. But here are some tried and tested words of wisdom (or… learning from my mistakes) as to what NOT to do:

1. Eschew technology-
Whilst Facebook et al are fabulous sources for information gathering, once you have established his position on the retard scale by virtue of him dumping your ass you don’t need a reminder of this.

The constant stalking of his page and lingering on chat hoping for him to appear is not helping you. Because what you are more than likely to see is him being tagged in photos with girls uglier than you, befriending slutty whores and having them incessantly comment on his wall.

Will this make you feel better? Certainly not. So JUST DON’T DO IT. Reduce the feeds you get about him…. The old adage of out of sight out of mind is most definitely true.

2. You are STILL the Hot One-
No matter how much of a douche he was in breaking it off, the fact remains that you are the hot one. So whilst he may need to run out and hook up with random skanky bitches as a means of affirming his own self worth, lowering your standards and slipping your tongue into the mouth of a lesser representative of the opposite gender does not help.

Don’t have an ugly rebound romance, and please, for the love of God don’t post it on facebook. You will regret it. I promise. I’ve been there.

Go for a run, have some gin, smoke a joint. Whatever makes you smile. Just don’t put it on the web… you are the hot one- don’t post photos which could indicate otherwise.


3. Whilst Facebook stalking is legal, physical intelligence gathering is more of an ethical and legal misnomer.

But lets face it, we do it.

It may be the frequenting of the favourite café where you used to share a Sunday morning brunch, going to a gig you perhaps wouldn’t in the hope of a run in, or altering your route to work ever so slightly to drive past his house.
Whilst we all do it, I’m fairly certain we don’t own up to it. Why? Coz we think it would make us sound COMPLETELY FUCKING CRAZY.

And it is. It feels comforting to see him, and know he is not with a new girl, or is wearing the same ugly jeans, but what purpose does this achieve? We have not broken our emotional dependence upon him, and are reinforcing the psychological bond which must be severed following the severance of relationship ties.

4. Being dumped is not a defence to criminality-

Revenge is a dish best served cold. So, throwing rocks at his windows/keying his car/ripping the pockets out of his pants/any other form of spiteful act really just reinforces his (deranged) motivations for ending it in the first place.

So this pretty much brings me to the crux of my rant:
The best way to enact revenge is to live the best life you can for yourself. Think hot, look hot, be happy. Surround yourself by people who love you, and feel free to fish for compliments to bank to neutralise his shit.

Because one day, be it ten days or ten years later, you will bump into him. And you will look better than him. And be better than him. It’s a question of how much better. Make him rue the day he ever ended it.


And before this comes off as too preachy, here is some news about me:
I have been obsessing over a relationship which whilst short, was filled with a ridiculous degree of passion, intensity, meaning, depth, friendship, compatibility and overall- potential.

His decision to end it on the grounds of ‘not seeking something too serious’ left me in a quandary. Did he just want to play the field? Well evidently not, as his time seems to be spent on facebook or with his guy friends, NOT picking up other women.

So then why? Why was I not good enough?

This hurt more than discovering infidelity, and took a long time to get over. But as of today I am 100% ok, and I know it. I do not fantasise about running into him, or him declaring his mistake and his newly realised unabashed love for me.

I hid his facebook news, I avoid his house, and I live my life for me.

(this only started today…. So learn from my mistakes!!!!)

Love, Peace and Gin to all…

Facebook Has Made My Stalking 97% More Efficient-

There’s a reason over 12 000 people have joined this group- for better or worse, Facebook has converted us all to part-time private eyes. Whether its our drunken pash from the night before, the cute boy in our tutorial, or even your current boyfriend’s ex… we have knowledge at our fingertips.

So how does this impact our relationships? With all this new information before us, are we better able to identify the needle in the Retard haystack? Unfortunately no. It seems that despite our favourite friends Google, Facebook, Myspace (for a time-capsule glimpse of your new love 2 years ago), Twitter, White Pages and Google Streetview (eep) just further enable the Retard to hide his abnormality behind his carefully constructed cyber self.

So how to cut through the shit and identify the degree of retardation from word go?

The technological snooping tools are overwhelming, so lets use today’s lesson to discuss the Number One offender: Facebook.

Here are some key areas to examine in assessing your man’s position on the Retardation Scale:

Profile Picture: Hands down the greatest indicator. Certain things are no go zones. These include shirtless profile pictures, the ‘pimp in a posse of ho’s’ look, drunken mates photos, overly wanky artistic shots or any photo involving a man who is off tits on pills, or enjoying a sneaky spliff. If any of these are present, clearly he is functionally retarded and is in need of asylum. Check past profile pictures too- he may be alert to your stalkerish ways and censored his shady past.


His ‘About Me’: This series of boxes offers the chance to show your best self to the world. If he has deigned it necessary to complete, he will typically fall into two categories, both of which concerning. These are:

Trashbag: His favourite music resembles the back of a Ministry of Sound Annual- PNAU, Presets, Muscles, Carl Cox, Potbelleez (aaah) and if you are lucky, maybe a smattering of MSTRKRFT/Justice/Dizzee Rascal. His interests include: hanging with mates, drinking beers, festivals, the beach and playing footy.
Yes. He is indeed as shallow as his profile portrays him. Unless you can conduct an indepth conversation as to the merits of the latest Festival lineup, or how ‘zomg totally awesome Daft Punk were even though it was 3 years ago and I was like, totally off chops, but fuck man” you will be ready to shoot yourself in the head in an attempt to maintain sanity.

Indie Intellectual: His mortal enemy is the Trashbag, and he will use his Facebook information to demonstrate this. He will go to extraordinary lengths to detail his favourite avant guard films (Donnie Darko, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, Full Metal Jacket, Black Balloon etc) and authors (Kerouac, Capote, Safran-Foer etc). His interests include red wine, coffee, second hand books and developing nations.

This kid thrives on self-worth through abstraction. Unless you are prepared to sit through plays that make Waiting for Godot look like an episode of Home and Away, back away before he explodes from an overfill of self worth.


Wall Postings/Photos Tagged: This is your greatest indication of his true nature, unless (like me) he is protective of his online image. Here, you can get to know his friends, judge them, and in doing so, judge him.

Does he have 20 messages on a Sunday morning consisting of “Maaan…. How fucked was last night? Who was that chick you were with? Tap that shit? Fuuuck my head”?
If he does, I don’t really need to say anymore.

Similarly, is it nonsensical postings which have no discernable meaning to any sanendiidual outside their clique (or should I perhaps say cult)? Back away…. I know this man. I know his friends. I dated one. This man is incapable of relationships, but is in a committed bromance… or indeed many. You will have to schedule well in advance to see this boy, as his friends and their X-Boxes trump your vagina any day.

Related to this are the tagged photos. Drunken/Stoned/Munted photos are just ugly… this is your man at his worst. Do you really want this? Check out comments such as “piiisssed”, “drankan” and other pieces of bullshit. This is the complete extent of their communicative ability.

Who is he in the photos with? If it is once again his posse of bleach blonde, orange trash-bat girls who look like their main aspiration is pose in Ralph/FHM then you have no place in his life… you are his dirty little secret. What would his similarly retarded buddies thinking of him dating someone who can actually spell???

Also, if it is photo after photo of guys embracing, arms over shoulders, holding beers and pulling goofy faces, then please ask yourself: Where do I fit in this photo? With the other girlfriends at home perhaps? If you are prepared to settle for this- invest in a comfortable couch. You will spend many a Saturday night there.


This is just the beginning of Facebook transgressions, however through our experience, these offences are so common, if you can make it to the end of this posting without recognising one of these Retard symptoms, you may well have found yourself one of the exceptions….

But perhaps check Myspace/Twitter/Google and every other tool favoured by a proper stalker before you get too excited….