Shesh Kebab-a-Boogaloo....Electric Mind You

And there she stood faced with her worst nightmare. Or rather, Australia's worst nightmare.

The Jana Pittman impersonator snarled at Sheshica and then began to huff and puff in such a loud commotion, everyone stopped the boogie at once.

"Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh! Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh! Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh! My gold! My gold! MINE!" The Jana Pittman impersonator screamed.

Shesh retracted for a moment.

"Hang on" she thought...."This ISN'T a Jana Pittman impersonator! Just because it looked like a man in a dress....This IS Jana Pittman!"

Shesh began screaming out to all the Suits to make a run for it "Run! Run! Run! Get the fuck outta here! It's really the Drama and she's gonna BLOWWWWWWWW!"

The Suits made a run for it. Quickly scurrying about the city streets of the Melb, looking for shelter, looking for a safe haven. Looking for SOMEWHERE to endure the storm that would no doubt shortly follow, and then only to be followed by Woman's Day write ups.

Crap.

Shesh did not confront the Pitt until the entire block was cleared.

The Pitt respected this, as dirty a skank she is. The Pitt waited to face Shesh fairly and respectfully.

This made Shesh nervous, "What do you mean she's not trying to get a head start? Or hasn't tried to kick me in the hammey while I wasn't looking....?"

Shesh quickly realised this was part of the Drama's tactical game plan.

Shesh matched this quickly by calling Paris Hilton and having a 15 minute chat about leg warmers.....They're coming back you know....

This made the Drama very VERY angry.

The Drama began to growl in a very unfashionable manner. Shesh excused herself from the Hilton and turned to face the Pitt.

"Lets go skank" bellowed Shesh in the most Geelong type accent known to her.

"BRRRRRRRRAAAAAH!" Responded the Pitt.

And it was all on yo.

The Pitt began running in circles around the block, hurdling over bins, benches, even newspaper stalls.

Shesh responded to this by performing the electric boogaloo upon various objects, ie: Cars; benches; tram tracks; (which is very difficult-max slip factor) and also managed to boogaloo up a wall onto the top of the Kleins Jewelers.

Score!

Shesh was quickly on her way to winning the boogaloo/hurdle off.

The Pitt realised this and searched the options available to her. The only way she could win this would either be hurdling over the Myer walking bridge or by stating that she was under extreme psychological trauma following the birth of herself......Therefore winning our sympathies, therefore taking the lime light....etc,etc

The Pitt being a Drama thought the latter was too easy, she really wanted to give it a go....

She approached the walking bridge at a speed of about Pitt an hour, ie: 58km's a second....Shesh stood watching in horror/amazement/shock/slash/excitement ie: many emotions.

Drama lifted one leg, the other.....and and and

SPLATT!

The drama impaled herself on a Myer Sale flag.

Shesh called out to the Suits hiding in the crevices of the Melb. "Come out! Come out! It's all over, she won't bother us anymore! Australia is free! Free! FREE!"

But no one came out to witness Shesh's celebratory boogaloo.

They were all too busy lining up in the newsagencies waiting to buy the new issue of Womans Day, so they could read about Australia's golden hurdle girl, who impaled herself on a Myer Sale flag, as she attempted to apparently save the human race from boogaloo-ration, but she failed coz she sucks dead dogs balls and she was emotionally traumatised at the time of the show down.

Shesh didn't care though.

She just kept on with the boogaloo.

Go Shesh, you fine piece of boogie you.

MAXIBON

Live in the wild
Lickers never survive

Well thanks Maxibon. What exactly are you saying....?

<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>

A thing of the past - A thing of the present

Yesterday, was all about the Benjamins

Today, is all about the Electric Boogaloo

This blog entry is officially dedicated to Sheshica. She's bored and someone stole her water bottle.

A-hem

This morning Shesh woke up, made a coffee and smoked a cigarette.

Whilst smoking her first morning cigarette she thought to herself aloud "What can I do today that will make a positive influence upon the world we inhibit?"

And then it suddenly dawned upon her....In a twilight of mashed beats and electro clashes....She yelped with happiness "I'm going to do the electric boogaloo everywhere I go today! And my hot stepping will inspire others to free themselves from their negative moods and 9-5 crapstixxiness!"

And with this she saluted the picture of Mother Mary next to her T.V. which is next to her bed, which is next to the window and close to the door.

Shesh breathed in the refreshing air of motivation and made her way out of her dwelling and into the real world.

It was only two blocks away from work when she realised she was still in her boxer shorts. But Shesh didn't care.

No.
She was too happy spreading the electric boogaloo love.

"Feel the rhythm! Let go of your stresses and boogie with me!" She exclaimed to Suits on their marching ants mission of conformity.

All around Shesh were hundreds of Suits....Moving in electric synch with her.

People were laughing, crying, smiling. All the positive emotions one would experience whilst doing the electric boogaloo.

Suddenly came a roar of terror!

It sounded like a bird

NO

A plane?

NO

A .... A.... A....A Jana Pittman impersonator!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

to be continued....

Shennanigans Yo

Ok so the miska jelkie duo are renown for excitement things.

Like catching the 246 for example.

Now it's been a long while since we've gotten up to some dodge-arama, due to growing up a LITTLE over the course of the years, but times are changing.

Next Thursday and Friday we are being whisked away to a convention right. All the ladies at work think that just because we are of a certain sexual preference and are matey mates an shizzle, that means we are having a torrid affair. -Despite the fact that miska is happily married to a very sexy lady and have children (a run away cat and horny fish.)

Here's an example of the ladies in work: (M=miska J=jelkie L=ladies)

M: hey jelkie you gonna catch the bus with me?

J: hell yeah damn straight, i'll meet ya downstairs yo....

L: woooooooooooha, jelkie and miska woooooooha. i wouldn't trust jelkie on the bus....wwwwoooooooooooooha....

Like seriously, what on earth do you expect me to get up to on the bus ladies? Surrounded by Wesley kids and heavy breathing men?

Oh yeah, don't pull the stop cord.....Geeeeez, sexually frustrated much ladies?

Hows your viagra mid life crisis I used to be young shizzle treatin' you?

OK, so you could imagine what it's like if we go to the toilet together....

So we're sharing a room at this convention we're going to next week right. All a ke-fuffle an benuffle has been created already, about the two lesbos chicks sleeping in the same bed.

What we're conspiring, what we're thinking is that we're just gonna prank all the ladies and try to freak them out as much as humanly possible.

I am bringing my handcuffs, whip and chains.

Miska's bringing her soccer ball (?) an egg beater and a pair of fluffy dice.

We're thinking of starting it by knocking on some of their doors asking for some Vas.

LOL!

Then a bit of jumping around the room, banging on the walls, rah rah rah.

How many heart attacks can take place in one night? 7 on my count.

Wish us luck yo.

BITCH!

Ok....

So I've been all polite and shit, all fucken patient and crap.

I just can't take it anymore!

Seems like a daily event.

jelkie enters lift. Boys enter lift.

jelkie stands her ground in the corner. Boys huddle around her.

Upon the last encounter with the male species, all but 2mins ago, I cracked it.

There I was, standing in the corner, and HE stands so close to me the tips of my shoes were touching the backs of his.

"Hey dude" I called out

Silence

"Hey dude" I repeated louder

Everyone stares at me

"You know man, personal space....bubble action?" *jelkie wafts arms to and fro*

"RAHAHAHAHAHA!" all the men roar in response....

And where, pray do tell, is the humour in this?

Whats the friggen deal with men standing on top of me in the lift? EVEN if there's ample room?

Invisible jelkie?

Or is there more to it? Is this the way men try to get their jingle jangle on with you these days?

I'm not sure, I've been on the isle of Lesbos too long now and you know, maybe shits changed in the last couple of years.

FUck.

Anyhoo.

I'm peeved and yet motivated to fix this constant continuous problem.

I will build my own personal bubble out of tin foil, persplex glass and rubber gloves.

BRING ON THE BUBBLE!

Chicken Roll & a lollipop

I exited the building through the back stairwell.

Making my way down the 5 flights of stairs was the easy bit....Up next was the ultimate challenge.

How swift thy commando roll?

Pretty gee dee swift.

I made it to the Ground Floor exit. Opening the door quietly proved difficult, so I applied some Blistex to the hinges and proceeded to open it as slowly as possible.

I peered round the side. The coast was clear.

"If I'm gonna do this, I need to do it now" I thought to myself.

"One, two, GO!"

I sprinted to the delivery van parked alongside the technical electrical room and ducked by the wheel.

In the distance I could see some suited folk entering the car park. I allowed them to pass me and waited another 30 seconds just to be sure.

"GO!" I bolted away from the delivery van, this was it. If I was going to get busted it would be now. Between the delivery van and the chicken wired fence which blocks this forte off from the outside world.

Approaching the chicken wire fence enclosure I fell to my side, doing a continuous commando roll through the bottom of the fence and onto the street.

"YES! I'M FREE!" I screamed to the Heavens above me.

I can't remember a time when I was on the outside of this prison. I can't even remember a time when I felt the warmth of the sun upon my face.

I feel invincible, somewhat.....I conquered the feat all other cell mates had only ever dreamed about.

Don't get me wrong, they all tried as well, some even got the blue prints of the building tattooed to their bodies.

However determined they may have been, they ALL failed miserably.

Now it was my turn, and I succeeded.

jelkie the conqueror.

jelkie the mighty runaway jelkie.

I started to do the happy dance, but stopped mid way, I didn't want to attract any unnecessary attention to myself now. Not at the almost final stage of my jail break -(pronounced jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaail break AC/DC style)

F*ck No!

I weaved my way through parked cars alongside the Alfred Hops-ital and found myself at a junction.

Why is it that every time you feel as though things are working out, you find yourself standing at this fork in the road. A junction. How confusement.

And no matter which way you chose to go, your always going to end up trekking both paths anyway....But the question remains....Which way do you want to go first.

I clung to the pole alongside the road and thought briefly for a moment.

Chicken Roll or Park?

Chicken Roll or Park?

I made a dash for the park. Ducking and diving through cars, trams, buses and trucks I found myself mildly concussed, yet entirely content to be alive.

There I stood, gazing out onto the purity of Nature's wilderness.

Leaves were slowly cascading downwards from the great mother tree's.

The smell of turned soil filled my nasal cavities.

Dog poo lingered in the air.

"Wow, it feels like I've never known this before...." my mind echoed out.

My tummy suddenly began to rumble louder then the sit on lawn mower to the right of me.

Geez, I need food and I need it 10 minutes ago.....

I looked around to see if "they'd" cottoned on to my disappearance, no one was on the jelkie trail as yet.

I begged my oasis farewell and made my way down to the sandwich bar.

(This is where the chicken roll comes into it....Are you ready?!!)

I purchased a chicken roll.

I then proceeded to do the happy dance again.

As I was shuffling my feet about, a bit of beetroot fell from my sandwich and onto the floor.

Then an old lady tripped on it.

Then she fell onto the floor and broke her hip.

Then security restrained me.

Then I got arrested for wagging work.

Then I got sued for causing bodily harm to a old bird.

Then I got deported to the Solomon Islands.

Now I'm sad.

You've got to think though....What if I went to the sandwich bar first? Would I have ever stepped in dog poo and witnessed such beauty?

What if I never wagged work?

What if I went to the pizza shop instead?

OR what if I went to Subway?

What would have become of me?

Who cares? Who knows?

I'm just glad they've got internet on the Islands.

Aloha ya'll

Where's my tee pee?

I swear to Allah and Ibraham I left it in the shower and now its gone....

-

As I sit at my terminal my head spins lightly...."Weeeeeeeee" it says "Weeeeeeeee."

I wonder what today will bring....

Anyhoo, I thought it might be time to elaborate a little about the American Embassy Security / CIA people that sit in the White Ford Fairlaine out the front.

This is the dealio.

Basically they sit there and monitor who walks past, how often and shizzle like that nizzle.

When I first noticed some governmental paranoia in the haps outside, I made it a promise to myself, a promise to God and a promise to the outback riggers in the outback, to conspire a conspiracy.

For days and days, weeks and weeks, I'd walk past and stare at them, look away, look at the Americana Capriosa and back at them mischievously. They'd notice and share a few words, then keep watching me.

I was loving inflicting early morning paranoia upon them.

So anyway I finally stepped it up a notch. I got to a point where I'd do the stare routine and then look at my hand, I'd look up at the embassy and back around behind me....Just to check if anyone was watching....

LOL!

From exchanging a few words it went to breaka breaka one two one two on the walkie talkie yo and just got worse from there.

I finally had to tone it down when I noticed my bedroom had cctv's set up in the air con unit.

Hahaha

-

So Miska and I were doing the walk of shame to work past the hop-si-tal. There are magic mushrooms growing in the lawn out the front.

Cook off at mine.

Starts 7pm

-

There are no more updates on the Crazie Lesbos Stalker Woman on the 246. I think I scared her away yo.

This is a bad thing. I need more drama on the bus. 246 is just not doing it for me right now.... :(

-

Random Random my head is still spinning.

Perhaps later I'll hit up something a bit more exciting, a bit more interesting....hmmmmmmm a bit more hardKORE

Later lates

Who's this cowboy....?

Since starting back in the rat race, the 9-5 world of pre packaged sandwiches and semi fresh California rolls with too little wasabi, I've felt a void left unfilled. I felt that something was amiss. Something just wasn't quite right.

Know what I'm sayin'?

Well, today, this morgen, just then....I was invited back into my past, I was pushed into the vortex of what was once was quite the norm.

I took on the mornings overcast and slight drizzle with contentness oozing from within me. It felt beautiful to be walking in synch with the droplets beating upon my glasses....Even if it was difficult to see properly. I didn't care though, I was loving it like a Bagel with Cream Cheese.

I approached the next block of buildings at a sturdy pace, little did I know I would soon be running for my life....ShitSTIXX

He emerged from the bushes in his normal full regalia....Caramel cowboy boots, high waisted jeans, purple top and a black vest.

The second I saw him, it all came flooding back to me.

I first saw this man....Lets just call him Cowboy, near my old house in St Kilda, near the tattoo place on St Kilda Rd....He takes really long strides and scabs cigarettes, all the while screaming randomness at people and no one in particular. He used to sit out the front of this building each and everyday at the same time I'd leave, I swear at one point I thought he was either stalking me, or he was some kind of constant reminder to be pure and true and stuff.

So Cowboy emerges from the bushes, carrying shopping bags and I know I'm screwed instantly, "Fucking cowards, stupid migrants, you know I'm right, come ere?!"

Shizzle be nizzle ma grizzle, I took to a quick pace instantly and almost crapped ma dacks because I was smoking and no one else was around....weird arse for St K's Rd @ 10am yeah? Twilight Zone yo...."ah no! He's gonna scab, he's gonna scab.....he's coming for me....he's gonna talk to me...." Just a few examples of my thought pattern at this point in time.

He puts his arm up into the air and starts waving it around, anyone who hits up Bananarama actions at 10am in the morning is either @ REvolver or mentally unstable....two of the same really. But anyway....He picks up his pace and instantly my ears get that feeling, you know the one when you just know someone's going to hit you, or someone's talking about you, or you did something wrong and think your gonna get busted. . . . or , or , or, wotevs?

Yeah, that one....I start to jog at the point of...."COME ERE MIGRANT!"

F*ck me, I never realised how Euro I look......But then again, I suppose if I was still tripping on acid I purchased in 1964 I'd see migrants everywhere too....(Seriously though, thats one bit of acid that lasted 40+ years....wot a super investment ING yo)

Then the arm starts jerking around violently, as if he's a puppet on a string or sumfin, he was almost convulsing.....By THIS time I'm running. I flick my cigarette to the grassy nole, almost hitting the Americana Embassy yo, the security guard no doubt had more info to jot away on my profile....(More on THAT another day....lol!)

Finally, peace, freedom and solidarity.

I was safe under an umbrella, although I was shaking like a leaf and in the fetal position before one of my coffee boyfriends came and took me into his arms, and then into his establishment.

Oh Lordy.

ODE TO COWBOY:

You took acid

I feel for you

I really really do

But when you chase me

You scare me

THE END

Who's House?

RUN'S HOUSE!

Yo

We d hey

We d hey

Say wot?

A whole lota supastars on this stage here tonite

But I want chya'll to know one thing

This is MY HOUSE

And when I say who's house

Ya'll know wot time it is.......

Who's house?

Jelkie's house

Yo

As you can tell I've been frollicking in the land of the Run to the 1 DMC complete

Run RUn RUN RUNN!!!!!!

I am doing the running man at my desk yo and it's hot and sexy.

I wanna marry it

LATER

Weekends again?

I feel it creeping closer to me, it caresses my brow with its fingertips and echoes a call through the wind. "jjjjjjjjjjelkie.....jjjjjjelkie....."

It's trying to seduce me into madness again, how will I avoid the inevitable?

But WHAT is the inevitable?

Is it following the patterns of the last 25.5 years of my life or is that change I feel swaying with the wind....?

I believe there will come a twist. A change. Sumsink different, this weekend.

I have booked in to see Sister Francis Helen Hunt at the Lady Help My Christian Missions in Elsternwick.

Although, Elsternwick is largely associated with the Jewish community, there appears to be a small, very very small Catholic area as well.

Perhaps this weekend will see me fulfill a lifelong ambition which has tempted me since I was a little tomboy, running around after farm animals.

Maybe, now the time has finally arrived for me to be gone with my soiled clothes and don a new type apparel.

Jelkie in the habit. The habitat. The moccasins. I don't think Nuns wear moccasins. I'm getting confused with the Native American Indian Shamans.

Hmmmmmmm. I bet $50 I could not only get into the Sisterhood of traveling Nuns, but I could also lead all the Sister's down the dark and evil path of Staying Up Late experimenting with cyclo's.

Hang on, hang on. Wait. Aren't I thinking about joining the Sisters Yo' to make myself a better person.

Well if I'm spoiled and beyond repair I want everyone else to be as well.

How negative was that? I can't believe my eyes....

Stop. Hammer time.

Welcome 69

Welcome welcome blog entry 69th pole position. I think I have vertigo.

I read in the paper today that a new decision has been past to make it compulsory for all Donkey's to be fitted with tracking devices, so their owners can keep track of them.

Seem's that since the National Animal Welfare and Stuff on Statistics have formally announced Donkey's numbers were becoming few and fewer, strange things have been happening.

Doctor Sheila Baxter, from the Department of Donkey Extinction Program says: "They have been disappearing willy nilly, ever since it was announced that numbers were depleting - its like they all just disappeared over night and owners are concerned that this is all part of a secret underground society's plans to create a Revolutionary Donkey Movement."

Other experts have been quoted as saying that Sheila's on crack and doesn't know what the fuck she's talking about......But because of the media involvement and international interest in Australia's depleting Donkey stats, no one is allowing any more info slip.....For fear the under world mob will get involved.

The Revolutionary Donkey Movement began in 1978, with Mortadella makers from Italy setting up house and home in the old sub stations underground in Frankston.

There were then, 165,000 members who all believe that one day a Donkey will fall from the sky, this day will be the last day on Earth and everyone who is part and believer of the Donkey Gods, will be spared, they will go on to live in the Mars Volta and stuff.

So if the owners apply tracking devices to their Donkey's, the Police will be able to bust the underground ring leaders of the Donkey Movement and send them to prison to become the new bitch's to the Hells Bells and Rebels Motorcycle club guys.

Sick. I wanna go.

So if anyone see's or hear's anything about the Donkeys, call Crime Stoppers NOW!

More on this later, I have to work now.
Tsk Tsk Tsk workie workies

Lesbo Stalker 246 ride of hell

The time was 7:29am and the 246 was pulling up. (I think I should just dedicate this blogspot to the 246?)

Her eyes met mine amongst the drizzle of the falling rain.

I searched quickly for Miska...."Where are you bus buddy, my little mischievous partner in fare evasion crime...."

But Miska was no where to be seen.

After purchasing my ticket I felt her eyes on me. I looked up from the ground to notice she was angry.

This lady doesn't have a name, no. But you might recall a couple of blogs ago, the Miska fanatic.....Yesssssssh, this is she.

So I sit down and turn my pod dog up louder, she's still looking at me, her nostril's flaring.....The tension on the bus is growing thick.

Finally, I lifted my gaze in her direction, put my hands to my temples and began making crazie person gestures at her, all the while screaming NNNNNNNEEEERH!

She jumped up from her chair, the chair usually occupied by Miska and jelkie, and ran towards me, arms outstretched screaming RRRRRRRAAHHHHHHHH!

"Oh fuck me! This chicks a crazie....." I yelled out to everyone, anyone, someone - more of a plea to help then a statement....

She tackled me, rolled me to the floor and began punching me in my shoulders (?)

"What the fuck are you doing?" Screamed the bus driver, and I'm thinking..."FINALLY! someone's gonna help me!"

The 246 pulls up mid traffic on the Hoddle and everyone's all crowded round like this is some type of school yard fight. They finally peel the crazie woman off me and ask her what her dealio is.

"She stole my girlfriend from me!" she shreeks "Her! Her! Her! She stole her and now she's gone forever!"

"What the fizzle is yo gizzle woman?" I ask while wiping my shoulders clean....

"The girl, the girl you sit with. I LOVE HER AND NOW SHE'S GONE!" she says in between sobs.... "She's not here today, where did you put her?"

"I tied her up in my dungeon....What the hell are you talking about? Miska missed the bus you freak!" I explain as matter of factly as I could.

"But, but....I love her." She whimpers from her pie hole, cowardly looking up. The sun beating down one side of her face, only to reveal that the mascara she applied onto her lashes just hours before, had begun to wilter away....just as her soul had also begun to.

Suddenly the cops pull up and take the girl away.

Hours later there is a report that comes across the wireless.."Crazie Lesbian Stalker escapes from Chalmsford Mental Institution......Leaves note vowing to find her Miska."

This story is proudly sponsored by the letter C and the number 4

Loves it Miska

PS: News just in!

Miska caught the early bus today and the stalker WAS ACTUALLY on it.

Is this story unfolding truths before our very eyes? Only time will tell.

Acid monkey

Chip Sandwich

Yes. I did it!

I finally succumbed to my chip/ham/cheese craving and it was....SHITHOUSE

I love putting adventurous fatty food cravings off, to only discover that they are gross, so you never EVER have to go there again.

Chocolate Easter Bunny with Rye is up next.

Grrrrrrrrrreat.

Wangaratta

This morning I was doing my morgen cofwah and cigwah, watching Sunrise and to my horror, saw that ANOTHER hurricane is knocking upon our shores of sandiness.

Hurricane Monica .... Now, why hasn't anyone been walking to work or turning off their unwanted electrical appliances to decrease the affects on the Ozone and the warming of Globalesque and the frying of our Souls and the greenhouse emissions....

Tsk Tsk Tsk ya'll.

I am VERY disappointed.

-

Anyhoo, on a brighter note, Miska (my bus partner in crime) has proved her sexiness by obtaining a stalker woman on the 246.

Go Miska.

It all started yesterday, when the little lady asked for bus advice from the Miska.

She even gets nasty with me when I smile in Miska's direction.

God love a psychotic lesbian, especially on the 246.

It just doesn't get any better then this now does it?

-

I have a chill.

I told Sheshica, when we were walking up Johnson St, in the search of bacon and eggs Sunday morning @ 7:45am...."We shouldn't be walking in sub zero temperatures with no jackets".....but we kept on and now we're both going to die of influenza. SICK!

I can't wait to start coughing up phlem.

How gross is that word anyway?

-

On Monday, prior to getting really REALLY fucking drunk, Kristen and I witnessed a most distressing act.

Junkie-ville lady in her car out the front of Hot Potatoes, going crazie popping her zits in the side mirror of her Ford Metior.

Her face was orange and pink already, covered in infections and pimples, it looked worse then any horror movie I've ever seen, AND I'VE SEEN EM' ALL YO.

She's just going for it, leaning out her car door and popping away.

I almost projectile vomited all over myself.

I think people should think more before doing things in public. ie: Long weekend, many passer's by could or would be hungover, coming down, etc....No one cares anymore....tsk tsk tsk

I still see this vision.

I think I need to get some hypnosis shizzle done to get it out of my head.

I AM TRAUMATISED.

PEACE LOVE AND SEXINESS

Don't eat fatty foods

Hospital Food

I have made a new friend at the hospital 2day.

Im going to call her Elouise, all though she looks too Midle Eastern for that.

But jelkie's not for racism so wotevs.

I went to her this morning for a bacon and egg roll and she stacked it on for me.

And now, just then I went for a ham and salad sandwich and she stacked it on for me so hard, I'm full off one half.

Go Elouise, go you fine hunka woman you.

She likes me.

Thats hot.

Anyhoo.

I'm feeling a lot healthier then earlier.

A poo and a spew - Amazing what good it can do for you....

Anyhoo I'm out.

Go suck a ferret.

I am lucky to be alive

Honestly, seriously, deliriously.

Long weekends are not only bad for your vital organs. They are bad for business in general.

The magpie's back.

It was following me around again this morgen. FUck that bird. I fucking hate it.

This is all I am capable of writing about right now.

The words are making me queesy.

Blah

Easter Egg Raffle

Yo

For the almost four years I've worked for "this" company I have never won an prize in the Easter Egg Raffle.

Every year I stand in the Lunch Room with everyone else, waiting, hoping and wishing for my name to be called.

But it's never called.

For weeks up until the prizes are drawn I have fantasies about it....

"Number 24, Two tickets to the International Comedy Festival! Winner...Jelkie!"

Or

"Number 14, One Lindt 3kg Easter Egg! Winner....Jelkie!"

But these fantasies never become my reality.

And as much as I love to think that maybe, just maybe, one day I'd be able to claim an Easter Raffle prize......I know I will not. I will never ever win . I NEVER win stuff.

Which I think is totally unfair, considering just how much i *heart* stuff.

Cock suckers.

*jelkie shrugs and sighs*

I thought for a second that maybe it was my karma for not paying for the Hot Cross Buns I ate this morning, but really, the way I see it, it should be them paying me to be at morning tea's like that, because I'm the freaky girl that makes people laugh, and makes all the daggy people feel cool.

Hehehe

People keep giving me Easter Eggs though, I think it's friend payment. Who cares, keep em' coming, I can't wait to distribute them to kids on the bus.

"Hey lidel boy, I'm a stranger, chocolate tastes better when you don't know who's touched it or whats been put in it....Wana try?"

Wotevs

I just dropped my sandwich....

It was really yummy. I'm fucked off now.

Bloody karma.....I suppose it's a sign not to torment the kids.

*loves it yo*

The Free Alf Stewart From Jail petition

Who would lock Alf Stewart up?

Who could put, the most fun loving, good ole' Aussie bloke in jail for a crime he didn't commit?

I'll tell you who, Steve Irwin.

It's a set up.

And you know the worst thing about it?

Alf Stewart wasn't even in the country. He was promoting Aussie Tourism in Thailand.

Apparently, or so the story goes, Alf was charged for looting the Surf Club and stealing Donald Fishers shoes.

But Donald Fisher departed these Australian shores all but 4 years ago.

So how, pray do tell me HOW....Alf got done for crimes against humility, he didn't even commit.

I want some answers and I want them NOW.

I want to know where's the love gone?

I would like to know why we would put an Aussie icon in Long Bay Jail without his camo pants and brown Penguin polo top (which he's had since 84' mind you)

I want to know which Governmental officials are supporting Steve Irwin's quest to become the ultimate Aussie icon.

And finally....I want to know, what are the chances of Alf entering a psychosis and seeing Alsa again?

FREE ALF STEWART!

The message in a bottle

Amid darkness and confusion
Hope is found

Strength will follow

and Love

Will reign supreme

8mins to 3

I keep burping Mortadella.

Its disgusting.

I'm blowing it in the direction of my neighbour. She keeps looking up to the air con vent.....hehehe suck it up!

My undies keep riding up my arse. People are going to start thinking I've got a itchy butt.

But I don't.

hehehe But BUTT - i LOVE BUTTS

Butts are hot. Butts are so hot that if Butts ever went to the South Pole, they'd melt Santa's house.

Yeah, no more christmas kiddies.

Or at least, it'd be a wet christmas and not a white one....RAHAHAHARRRR! Go the John Stamos humour @ delirious o'clock on a Tuesday.

I don't want to work today.

PROTEST

I saw a old lady protesting out the front of the American Embassy just before.
At least I though she was protesting, until I realised she was perving at the boy laying down the fake grass....What's that stuff called again....Turf. Thats it! (Gawdy, I *heart* the smell of Turf. YUM, its just as good as the smell of asphalt after it rains....YUM)

So she had this walker, it had a seat in it. She kept pushing it in front of where he was laying down his Turf.

God Nana Sexual.

Sexual harassment. Does it count with a 84yr old lady with a walking frame....?

Today is just all crazie isn't it?

I just spent some time checking out the Ikea and Howards storage page.

Don't even bother. It's crap.

Fucked

Shit

Stupid

Cock suckers

hehehe

I *heart* swearing on my blogspot

Anyhoo....LATER YO!

The past.....The present

The present....





The past......

Mortadella Becomes Her

The time was 11:10am and my tummy began to rumble.

This excited me especially, because all I had last night was a couple of potato chips, and a piece of toast.

So I journeyed to the kitchen and picked up my lunchbox.

A really annoying man was in there, so I didn't get to buy a bag of chips (had this craving for chips on my sandwich).

I got back to my desk, by this time it was around 11.30am.

I started munching on, my sandwich was disgusting.

I kept gagging coz I'd hit these fatty deposit spots.

It was disgusting, yuck.

So I feel like vomiting now.

I threw the meat out at one point, and continued with the cheese.

Now our Pod smells like Donkey.

But no one cares coz its mine and if they complain I'll take them to HR calling them all racists.

I just wanted to tell you my tragic story.

So long cruel world....

Could this be the end of the killer 246 Magpie?

Oh my Lordy, did I have a diddy when I arrived at the bus stop.

For a few days now, I've been scoping the sky, the over hanging power lines and the roofs surrounding, searching for my arch nemesis magpie.

I've been swoop-free for a little while now....And this morning I think I have found the answer as to why.

Of late I've become accustomed to staring at the ground, kicking my feet about, like a kid. Searching for something, anything, something, to focus my thoughts on something other then whatever it is thats plaguing me.

And so I'm doing the kick, I'm fussing with my feet and it suddenly dawns upon me.

What I at first took to be some rubbish on the ground, quickly became a reality I never thought would take form in this life.

Feathers.

Magpie feathers. Shrown upon the ground.

Hundreds of questions and answers swirled through my mind at speeds too quick to make sense of.

One, however, that lingered was this...."Could this be the end of my torment?"

At least with the fucking bird....

Only time will tell if the feathers belonged to the crazie magpie that wants to kill me slowly, by poking out my vital organs in front of peak hour traffic.

Only time will tell, if what I thought was a foe, was actually a representation of something more.

Could the magpie actually be a representation of something more?

Now it's dead? Possibly....

Oh this mind, so restless, so tired. So over Mortadella sandwiches.

The answers, I know, will come soon, as the acknowledgement has finally....ARRIVED.

Whats the dealieyo with the beerio?

Beer.

The end

S'up Friday?

Hello, hurrah, hero

Welcome to another day, another dollar and THANK FUCK another Friday.

This morning I woke up early.

My sleeping patterns have been affected by a number of different things of late: My Death Metal upstairs neighbour who kills his girlfriends and chops them into little pieces and forces their remains down his bathroom sink (don't worry, more on this later); Next door neighbours realising they have an extra room which is next door to mine, loudly banging S&M sexarama; Crazie arsed dreams; Certain situations upon investigation on your radio station, across da nation. YO.

Alright, so I wake up early, do some weights, wack on the teeveeeee and start with the coffee cigarette routine.

To my shock horror, the Today Show (Americana stoopid banana one) is featuring a Doggy Fashion Moment, otherwise known as DFM, or better known to some as Desperate To Fill In A Spare Time Slot (DTFIASTS).

Hehehe ^;0)

So I'm sitting there, in ma knickers, watching these dogs parading poncho/day wear apparel.

OMG. I had a moment when I considered calling the RSPCA to report another bout of animal cruelty.

I resisted, I thought perhaps it would cancel itself out because of the metric system and time difference.

So the last two dogs were going a bit feral, and as much as I wished, hoped and prayed they would turn all 28 Days Later on the hostess, they did not.

Dang!

Oh well.

Next up was Sunrise.

Yeahy. Love my Sunrise.

All I have to say about it today however, is....Has anyone ever noticed how sooky and angry Kochie gets when the focus and attention is taken away from him? Or if they make a crack at him? OR if the girls are taken aback by a hottie?

Like GET THE FUCK OVER IT MAN.

Oh, he's really starting to annoy me.

Anyhoo, tonight is Girl Bar.

This should be interesting.

Have a great day and I'll no doubt hit up another random ramble in the near future.

Perhaps I'll hit it up after I visit the Bank and tell them how dumb they are for not sending me a new Eftpos card and how amazing I felt when the beautiful Mama B was down and we were on our way to a lavish expensive breakfast and I attempted to take out some cash AND THEN it kindly SPAT my card back out at me, hitting me in the retina saying "Your card has expired."

Imagine, go on, close your eyes now.

Imagine a Saturday morning with yo'Mama, off to breakfast, you have $10 on you - Which you found on the ground on Smith St (I KNEW IT WAS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE) and an ATM is telling you your fucked.

And THEN the Customer Service Rep has to try and calm you down after she tells you calmly, "I'm sorry, no funds are available to you until Monday."

Thank God for Credit Card debt.

meh

Brrrrrrrr!

7:40am - Melbourne 10 degrees

Thank Geebus I brought my hoodie with me....Not that it helped me much.

Time to invest in a parker? A winter coat? A blankie?

A new lease on life?

Meh....

Today is a weird day.

I can't feel my fingers. This creates a problem.

I got my hairy cut last night yo.

I think it looks ok. All my ladies at work say it looks (and I quote) "Alright."

I am trying as hard as I can not to read into the "Alright" and focus on warming my nose up.

It feels like a ice block.

This has proven to be a VERY un-eventful blog. I apologise for this.

Not too much is happening that I'd like to report about.

So once again, I apologise for not entertaining enough.

It's only early in the morning. Who knows what this day will bring.

*jelkie sigh*

OMG I nearly forgot!

Ok, so last night I was watching the teeveeeeee yo and an add came up about a show which was following All Saints.

The show was called something like "Bursting Boobs" or something to that affect.

Anyhoo, I passed out before it came on and these ladies at work were talking about it.

Honey....If you get implants to make your boobies a size H....YES! Size H!!!! OMG! Of COURSE your titties are gonna pop!

They are gonna explode like a volcano on some type of tropicana island.

If your gonna cart those puppies around, and avoid getting some type of spinal deformity, then they are gonna go BANG!

The funniest was the commercial, which showed all these "I wanna be a porn star and lick custard off your body" type chicks with blond hair TRYING to be my baby, Ana Nicole Smith, going "They just like, they just started to leak and stuff."

HEHEHE!

Sucked in ladies.

Sucked in for trying to be my Cocaine addicted trailer trash favorite celebrity.

Sucked in for thinking a Thailand make over would not only save you money, but be a reliable alteration....That would NOT cause complications when you raised your arms too high.

HAHAHA!

I'm not laughing at their misfortunes....Don't get me wrong. I'm just havin' a bit of a cheer at the stupidity of vain women out there.

DumbAsses.

Also, I'd like to report that we are expecting a crazie storm soon.

I'll be hiding under my desk if anyone needs me.

Dude....

A message to all users:

Pulling your groinal area is BAD.

Oh F*CK

Man.

This is worse then the time I rode my brothers bmx without a seat and....well.

Just be sure to NEVER do your groin in and NEVER EVER ride a bmx with no seat and go over a jump.

LOL

Oxford Dictionary Yo

Last night, during my exercise routine I seemed to have injured myself doing squats.

Now, I usually take it easy with the squats, as my Basketball career left me with some ouchies. But Supremookie insisted I do them to get my butt back.

So I did a total of 150 squats.

According to the Oxford Dictionary, this is the explanation of PULL & GROIN:

PULL (verb) — ORIGIN Old English, pluck, snatch. Just 5 definitions for you
1 exert force on (something) so as to move it towards oneself or the origin of the force.
2 remove by pulling.
3 move steadily
4 move oneself with effort or against resistance
5 strain (a muscle, ligament, etc.).

GROIN (noun) — ORIGIN perhaps from an Old English word meaning depression, abyss. What are they saying here?
1 the area between the abdomen and the thigh on either side of the body.
2 informal the region of the genitals.

So I have exerted force on my region of the genitals.....hmmmmm. By pulling and moving steadily with myself, against resistance and strained the area between the abdomen and the thigh, on one side of my body. AND I SWEAR I WAS DOING SQUATS

OMG.

Genital region? Since when did the area between my thigh and abdomen become my genital area?
If I knew this before, perhaps I wouldn't have bought those hot pants.

"ah hem, Jelkie....Your genital region is showing."

If a man can make you dribble....

....Just by making you orgasm in your mouth area, with the best soy latte in the world....

Do you think he'd be a go-er?

Would you go out with him?

Would you make babies with him?

I think it's a one off talent.

But it got me thinking for a second.

Oh, coffee boys. wow.

The Children Of The Corn

Welcome to The Children Of The Corn.

The children live in a town, south west of Sydney.

The town will remain nameless.

The children, will also, remain nameless.

These children - there were four. Are aged between 4 and 16.

There are two girls and two boys.

They are called The Children Of The Corn because they love corn.

They grown corn, they live off corn. They even make their clothes from corn.

Obsessed? Weird? Crazie?

No.

They are simply corn lovers, and so have been appropriately named: The Children Of The Corn.

Day 1 of Cornicka (The day of worshiping the Corn God - Cornicka)

The children prepared their stable/house with much enthusiasm. They cleaned the potty, took out the kernels and swept the floors.

Their God would be there soon, to evaluate them on their Cornahobim progress. (Cornahobin - A life devoted to the way of the Corn)

Rush rush rush. They went up and down their tiny abode, trying to make it as perfect and Cornicka loyal as they possibly could.

Finally at 12 pm, the bell rang at the front of their little Corn-Side Shack.

"Who is it?" The Children all cheered.

"It is I, Cornicka." Replied Cornicka.

The children were so happy and excited to meet their God, they opened the door with big smiles on their faces....

"You have been bad bad children." Said Cornicka.

"But why God Cornicka?" They all sang in response.

"Because!"

And God Cornicka ate all four children.

Why? Who knows.

Do their parents miss them? Who cares, they were free loaders anyway.

Were they tasty? Just like popcorn.

The End

Happy Monday

Congratulations to me!

I just consumed four slices of Dominos Pizza and am still alive.

Who the HELL is responsible for allowing them to manufacture such CRAP?!

It's gross. Like I mean gross.

It tastes like plastic and is as thin as paper.

GRRRRRR

Now I have to walk twice as much tonight AND I'm still hungry.

Poll Questionaire....Will she still fit into her new size 6 pants by 4pm?

meh.