(no subject)
well here i be again. i've decided i'm quite pissed off at myself. for a number of things really. but hang on.
i think i said i was going to write about the 40 year old dishpig. i've since decided, that not only is he not worth writing about, i can almost guarantee, it would NOT make interesting reading. nobody can make the topic of a dishpig interesting, so i'm not even going to try. so we'll leave it at that huh?
so i'm pissed off at myself MAINLY because i havent done ANYTHING about applying for uni. and i can see myself doing sweet "fark awl" next year. probably more dishpig crap. actually, i found out that the QTAC office was in Milton. so i need to go there. i've decided that i DO want to go to uni. i think i've mentioned this previously. i want to write for a living. but i dont know what, or how, or, well, any major details.
another thing that annoys me about me. i have the most degrading job on the planet. i would rather clean toilets for a living. honestly. although, at least when people ask me what i do, i can say "oh, i work in the kitchen at pier 9". and i'd rather say i was a "kitchen hand" than a toilet cleaner. although as far as the job goes, toilet cleaning would be more enjoyable. so i want another job. even if its just working at some place selling clothes to "cool" people. just to let you know, i'd rather die than be "cool". but i need to make my resume' better, and actually hand it out to places. yeah, other stuff annoys me about myself, but i cant be bothered typing about it, and it would bore me.
i think i'm going to embarrass (how the hell do you spell that word?) my brother. i think i spelt "university" wrong too. anyway, back to simon. yeah, one time, we were in this tyre shop place. like, bob janes or something like that. anyway, my brother was about 6 years old at the time. and he had this tight, all in one swimsuit thing on. i dont know why, but i'm guessing it was summer and we'd just been to the beach or something like that. i dont know why we'd go to bob janes via the beach, but anyways. he somehow managed to get an erect penis. and you could see it poking about, coz he had a tight swimsuit thing on. so my sister noticed it and started laughing. my brother noticed it and started playing with it. his eyes seemed to light up as he did this. not in some self pleasure way. but because the more he poked and toched it, the more it would move about. and "grow". he was just sitting in the chair at the tyre place touching himself, and my sister and i were laughing, the tyre shop guy was trying not to smile whilst trying to advise customers on which radials, or rims or some crap would suit which tyres. yeah, thats right, i know nothing about tyres, but anyways.
i was going to write something about gay men who hit on me. yes, it has happened more than once. ok. first time i can recall, was last year. i was in spain. doing all the tourist things. and i'm standing outside some palace place. "Palicio de Real" or something like that. and this italian dude riding a pushy comes up to me and asks "do you want a drink?" i'm like "uh, no thanks". then he's like "do you like boys?" and i stuttered the words, "uh, y-y-yeah, uh, n-no. girls, i like girls, i like boys as friends". "oh, so you're bi?". "NO! uh, no, hetro, hetrosexual". then he smiled at me and shook my hand. then he went to leave. then he smilled at me again, said "ciao" and shook my hand for a second time. first gay story.
number 2.....this isnt a full on gay story, but i've told a couple of people about it, and apparently it is. so i walk into this pub in perth, Novaks. i grab a pint of guiness. and this american dude starts talking to me. turns out he and his 2 buddies are american sailors, in perth for a while. so because an american sailor started talking to me (and yeah, he bought me a drink) doesnt mean hes gay. and doesnt mean he's hitting on me. he gave me a "quarter". which i still have. BUT HE WASNT HITTING ON ME!!
i think there were other gay stories. but i have one more main one.
saturday night, i went clubbing with stacey, belinda and crispin. and we went to a gay club. and some old man (over 40) with glasses asked me why i was looking so sad (thats another thing, why does EVERYONE always think i look sad?). and then he made me sit next to him. and he touched my cheeks and offered to buy me a drink, on more than one occasion. his name was Greg. Gay man Greg. yeah, he scared me. some young gay guy, Troy, noted that greg liked me. well done troy. even if greg were a woman, "Greggette", i wouldnt have been interested in some 40 year old woman sitting by herself in a club, BLURGH. the name greg reminds me of these books i used to own, Grug. he was like, some little man made out of tumble weed or sticks or twigs or something. he was awesome.
anyways, time to make my way to the train station. might get maccas brekkie on the way. mmmmm, disgusting junk food.....yummy.....BLURGH AGAIN.....
i think i said i was going to write about the 40 year old dishpig. i've since decided, that not only is he not worth writing about, i can almost guarantee, it would NOT make interesting reading. nobody can make the topic of a dishpig interesting, so i'm not even going to try. so we'll leave it at that huh?
so i'm pissed off at myself MAINLY because i havent done ANYTHING about applying for uni. and i can see myself doing sweet "fark awl" next year. probably more dishpig crap. actually, i found out that the QTAC office was in Milton. so i need to go there. i've decided that i DO want to go to uni. i think i've mentioned this previously. i want to write for a living. but i dont know what, or how, or, well, any major details.
another thing that annoys me about me. i have the most degrading job on the planet. i would rather clean toilets for a living. honestly. although, at least when people ask me what i do, i can say "oh, i work in the kitchen at pier 9". and i'd rather say i was a "kitchen hand" than a toilet cleaner. although as far as the job goes, toilet cleaning would be more enjoyable. so i want another job. even if its just working at some place selling clothes to "cool" people. just to let you know, i'd rather die than be "cool". but i need to make my resume' better, and actually hand it out to places. yeah, other stuff annoys me about myself, but i cant be bothered typing about it, and it would bore me.
i think i'm going to embarrass (how the hell do you spell that word?) my brother. i think i spelt "university" wrong too. anyway, back to simon. yeah, one time, we were in this tyre shop place. like, bob janes or something like that. anyway, my brother was about 6 years old at the time. and he had this tight, all in one swimsuit thing on. i dont know why, but i'm guessing it was summer and we'd just been to the beach or something like that. i dont know why we'd go to bob janes via the beach, but anyways. he somehow managed to get an erect penis. and you could see it poking about, coz he had a tight swimsuit thing on. so my sister noticed it and started laughing. my brother noticed it and started playing with it. his eyes seemed to light up as he did this. not in some self pleasure way. but because the more he poked and toched it, the more it would move about. and "grow". he was just sitting in the chair at the tyre place touching himself, and my sister and i were laughing, the tyre shop guy was trying not to smile whilst trying to advise customers on which radials, or rims or some crap would suit which tyres. yeah, thats right, i know nothing about tyres, but anyways.
i was going to write something about gay men who hit on me. yes, it has happened more than once. ok. first time i can recall, was last year. i was in spain. doing all the tourist things. and i'm standing outside some palace place. "Palicio de Real" or something like that. and this italian dude riding a pushy comes up to me and asks "do you want a drink?" i'm like "uh, no thanks". then he's like "do you like boys?" and i stuttered the words, "uh, y-y-yeah, uh, n-no. girls, i like girls, i like boys as friends". "oh, so you're bi?". "NO! uh, no, hetro, hetrosexual". then he smiled at me and shook my hand. then he went to leave. then he smilled at me again, said "ciao" and shook my hand for a second time. first gay story.
number 2.....this isnt a full on gay story, but i've told a couple of people about it, and apparently it is. so i walk into this pub in perth, Novaks. i grab a pint of guiness. and this american dude starts talking to me. turns out he and his 2 buddies are american sailors, in perth for a while. so because an american sailor started talking to me (and yeah, he bought me a drink) doesnt mean hes gay. and doesnt mean he's hitting on me. he gave me a "quarter". which i still have. BUT HE WASNT HITTING ON ME!!
i think there were other gay stories. but i have one more main one.
saturday night, i went clubbing with stacey, belinda and crispin. and we went to a gay club. and some old man (over 40) with glasses asked me why i was looking so sad (thats another thing, why does EVERYONE always think i look sad?). and then he made me sit next to him. and he touched my cheeks and offered to buy me a drink, on more than one occasion. his name was Greg. Gay man Greg. yeah, he scared me. some young gay guy, Troy, noted that greg liked me. well done troy. even if greg were a woman, "Greggette", i wouldnt have been interested in some 40 year old woman sitting by herself in a club, BLURGH. the name greg reminds me of these books i used to own, Grug. he was like, some little man made out of tumble weed or sticks or twigs or something. he was awesome.
anyways, time to make my way to the train station. might get maccas brekkie on the way. mmmmm, disgusting junk food.....yummy.....BLURGH AGAIN.....