Guest Slutting

I was looking at TLD's blog, and got vaguely sad and moody. HE got a guest spot Novel Adventures. Just because he's written a stupid book. I could write a book. If I were talented. If I had the attention span of a adult, rather than a ferret on crack. If I had any ability with the English language... And then I became even sadder, because frankly, I'm never gonna add 'author' to my list of Special Skills (unless you count dirty e-mails, in which case HOLLA! Just ask The Lieutenant), which as noted, seems to be the first step to guest slutting.

HOWEVER.

I have decided to eschew negativity, and go Zen on this conundrum's arse. When the Tibetans want something, they give something away (perhaps explaining why Tibet's such a global powerhouse, but I digress...) Therefore, I'm offering y'all (or anyone who's interested)...

This blog. Rite here. For the month of November.

That's rite. I'll let YOU guest slut on MelWuv. Help yourself to anything in the fridge, feel free to drink the wine on the bench, and don't worry about doing the laundry - I'll change the linen when you go.

After all, y'all couldn't make a worse hash of this blog than I have.

I Wish I Was A Time Lord: I'd Have The Chance to Leave Earth Until the Music Got Better

My sparkles bring all the vampires to the yard, and I'm like, You're a fag

I'm Surprised

If Justin Bieber was to stand on the top of a tall building, preparing to jump, I reckon 99% of teenage girls around the world would sob, beat their breasts, and beg him not to do it.

Seriously, only 1%'d be sitting down below on deck chairs with popcorn, screaming 'Do a BACKFLIP!'

I'm disappointed in you, teenage girls. The backflips'd be AWESOME.

Dear Diary, Nobody Understands Me But You!

My goodness, when did it become so hard to be a teenager?! I remember that my teenage years, when coupled with the travails of high school, did occasionally move me to tears and fits of great stabbiness. However, the ways of the tortured artiste were unknown to me. I was never on medication. I was never admitted into psychiatric care. I got over it.

This ability to get over it, which I maintain is the base-level resilience needed to survive 80+ years of existence on the planet, seems harder and harder to find. Instead of realising that sometimes, life does indeed suck dogs' balls, and all any of us can do is keep breathing and wait for it to pass, such moments become an opportunity to tie oneself in knots of self-reflexive upset, demonstrated by a deep personal depression.

Excuse me? When the f*ck did it become The Done Thing to self-harm? Or up the anti-depressant dosage? Or, even more dangerously, sing songs about self-harming? Before y'all become shouty, I do believe medication has a place. I do believe that it is one option for treating psychiatric conditions which would otherwise be unbearable. But also, I wonder if you'd feel better if you simply stopped listening to songs about dead goldfish, and how nobody understands us, and why it's all for nought, and hardened the f*ck up. For God's sake, please stop pretending it's cool to be so unhappy. It's horrible for the rest of us to be around - mainly because we get bored of listening to your whinging - and I'm pretty sure ain't the best way to care for your own neurochemical balance.

Let's all try something new, shall we? The Bloggess has coined the Furiously Happy Movement, and motherf*cker, I'm ALL for it. Let's be 'FURIOUSLY HAPPY, OUT OF SHEER SPITE'. It certainly can't be more painful than dead goldfish.

P.S. It's NOT cool to be emo, depressed, and rock an air of ennui when a) you've never seen what the rest of the world has to offer (yeah, chick whose happiest years where in high school, I'm looking at you), and b) you don't know what 'ennui' means. It's self-indulgent, self conscious, too cool for school POSING. Kisschasy and I are on to you:

They both go to all of the same clubs
Where everyone takes all the same drugs
And talks about how they're 'so fucked up'

Note: This was not written in a nice way. We're laughing our guts up at you

A Hung Parliament

Bob Katter. Running the country.

It's so stupid it's awesome

Consumer Accesories, How I Love You!

(The long version of the story about How MelWuv Got Her Caffeine On)

Okay, so:

So you know how I like coffee?

Busy BUSY day at work today - there at 0730, finished at 1530, and in between we had 17 outs, 2 fulls, and a gagillion lights - and the penthouse was TRASHED, much to my dismay: I walked in, and was all, F*cking NO! How can people behave like this? This is NOT my job, and my boss - The Man, whom I'm Workin' For - was all, MelWuv, it kinda IS your job - you're a cleaner, and I was giving it the, F*ck that! I was not employed to clean up after animals, and The Man was looking at me going, I don't remember you being so shrill when I hired you... You sound kind of like Elmo... So I was puce with rage, and just standing there shaking and saying things like, F*cking idiots, party like douches, and leave it for someone else to clean, what's wrong with these people, and The Man's going, Do we have to talk about appropriate workplace language, so I've hissed, Come up and have a look yourself, and he did, and he's like, Motherf*ckers, and I was all, Whoa, jumped a coupla steps, and The Man is grumping on about how women can say f*ck, and be all, We're reclaiming the right! but when a man says it, Oh, how dreadful, and we kinda short-circuited there, and got down to it, and anyway, I spent 80 MINUTES scrubbing the kitchen, and there were FIVE of us working in there the whole time - that's 400 minutes spent cleaning the penthouse - (oh, and we were throwing their balloons off the balcony - hours of fun, till we were told to smarten the fuck up) and Mr Fix-It maintenance was there because SOMEONE HAD THROWN A CHAIR OFF THE 20TH STORY PENTHOUSE BALCONY IN TO THE POOL (which was kind of rock'n'roll, so I was almost enjoying that part), and he was all, You're awesome girl - you'll fix it, which was very kind, and so we dragged thru the day, and then at 1530, I was grabbing my bag to get the hell outta Dodge - I was worried if I stood still too long they'd find something else for me to do - when Mr Fix-It grabbed me and said, Hey, look what we've got! and it turned out someone had moved out - our building has residential apartments in it, as well as the hotel rooms, and when ppl move, the hotel lends them our maintenance guys because we're charming - and left behind the stuff they didn't want, or were replacing with whizz-bang new fabulous items in the new house, and guess what? I have an espresso machine that has extra height clearance so you can fill a mug from the machine.

I told you it was the long version

Study This

In high school, I studied Pride and Prejudice /lip quiver/ I wanna study Fight Club!