Today my cat excreted someting that looks noteably like a dick and balls . I don't know what's more problematic; that I correlate the appearance of cat plops with the rudie nudey region of a man, or that my cat does pornographic shits.

Animals Dancing to Salt-n-Pepa's 'Push It'

I need to more diligently enforce my parental authoritah and just say no to bad ideas. Daughter wanted to watch Frankenweenie before bed. Neither of us had yet seen the movie, but my maternal gut was trying to engage by brain in a dialogue something like this: "Are you 'tarded? This is, in fact, a bad idea." Yet I gave into peer group pressure and watched the film with my 10 year old.

The movie is cute as a button, deeply touching and fun to point out cultural references in, but it's not ideal viewing for a sensitive child who's currently struggling with accepting that her elderly kitty is in fact not immortal.

# too much therapy

Fuck the Catholic School System

Nobody can intellectually argue that I am unscathed by years of Catholic schooling. Although the hip dance moves are possibly new to me, this song haunted my childhood and quite possibly serves as a partial explanation as to why I am such a fuck up in adulthood.

Me in my entirety
Not just my heart
Feels like it's
breaking
breaking...........................
Crack.

I have a cat purring against my back. This isn't an unpleasant thing. I'm also pretty sure that  a piece of glass or something is wedged into my foot, so it hurts when I walk and I'm feeling anxious about going to work today (no correlation). I've got an uneasy, queasy pain in my sactum and I'm not sure if it's The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo trilogy finally fucking me up.






Lisbeth is a fucking awesome character and the books are intruging and reasonably well written, but the level of pain and violence against women is taking a toll on my already very precarious faith in humanity.

It is after 10:30 at night and my daughter has stopped jumping around like a loon but is now singing "Bad Horse" from Doctor Horrible whilst drawing. At the corner of MY bed, which is not the same thing as actually lying down in the bed and besides, it's the wrong fucking bed.

This book is seriously my fucking autobiography.

I now have a 10 year old, well, I've had one for about a month really, I'm just really slack with blogging. She's pretty fantastic: she critiques her friend's homophobia and makes this girl question her unquestionable political position, she likes fluffy bunnies and kittens and puppies, she uses too many swear words and just made up a song that goes "You, my friend, have fluffy buttocks".
I love my daughter.

Someone once told me that even though they ate meat, they felt mean killing lice. Not I. Apart from legal concerns, I'd pretty much feel significantly worst killing an animal than a person (Except if it was trying to hurt my kids. Nobody fucks with my kids). But lice are where I draw the line when it comes to animal preservation, my one exception. I have no qualms about exterminating the little fuckers. Seriously, they deserve to die. Parasites contributing nothing positive to society. A bit like the Liberal Party really.

I think I'm going to make this my avatar. Or my something else thingy.

Pop Will Eat Itself - Ich Bin Ein Auslander

I've been thinking about this song a lot recently, partially because PWEI are touring in a couple of weeks, but more significantly because it is ambiguous enough to apply to a whole range of global tragedies at the moment where people are loosing their lives and their shit and their governments and fellow citizens are often doing very little to protect or support them.






Listen to the victim, abused by the system
The basis is racist, you know that we must face this
It can't happen here (oh yeah?)
Take a look around at the cities and the towns

See them hunting, creeping, sneaking
Breeding fear and loathing with the lies they're speaking
The knife, the gun, broken bottle, petrol bomb
There is no future when the past soon come

And when they come to ethnically cleanse me
Will you speak out? Will you defend me?
Or laugh through a glass eye as they rape our lives
Trampled under foot by the rise of the Right


Ich Bin Ein Auslander, Ich Bin Ein Auslander
Ich Bin Ein Auslander, Ich Bin Ein Auslander

Welcome to a state, where the politics of hate
Shout loud in the crowd, watch them beat us all down
There's a rising tide on the rivers of blood
But if the answer isn't violence, neither is your silence
If they come to ethnically cleanse me
Will you speak out? Will you defend me?
Freedom of expression doesn't make it all right
Trampled under foot by the rise of the Right

Ich Bin Ein Auslander, Ich Bin Ein Auslander
Ich Bin Ein Auslander, Ich Bin Ein Auslander
Ich Bin Ein Auslander, Ich Bin Ein Auslander
Ich Bin Ein Auslander, Ich Bin Ein Auslander

I asked my Daughter if she'd like to go to the March in March rally the day after her birthday in front of my Son. "A lot of angry lesbians from Northcote telling me I'm mean; that should be really affective. Tony Abbott will probably do a Robbie Williams and kill himself" Would now be a pertinent time to remind him that he had attended more rallies by the time he was 2 and a half than most people have in their entire lives?

Mr. T Treat your mother right

I have this (possibly delusional) memory of being a really nice person; empathetic, accommodating,not a shitcunt. So I'm wondering why I find myself now reflecting on how it is that I became such a miserable shitcunt. I'm wondering if it has some deep-seated esoteric explanation behind it, or it's more to do with being placed in the predominant position of dealing with nufties.

So I've been thinking about getting married and was perusing some prospective dresses.

So I showed my son. "If you want to look like a washed-up whore" "Really? I don't think it's slutty; I thought I might get married in it" "Sure, if you want to look like you suck dicks for a living at your wedding" Why are children so unkind?

A Ferris Wheel Shoe Cage: who would ever need such a thing? Why would such a thing even exist? Fuck my life. I'm going to bed.

"Falling pregnant" is an odd expression. If you analyse or take it literally, it sounds like "Whoops! I just tripped over, and landed on someone's knob. Now I am knocked up (Goddamn fertility)"

So the Shit Begins. Yay.

So I decided to do a blog for my class at Polytechnic ( isn't that an awesome word? Everyone knows it's just fucking TAFE but it has this melodic, twee lyrical power to it, like when Leeloo says "Multipass" in the Fifth Element). Anyway, I decided to do a blog and wanted my first entry to be profound. Thus, it has taken me three months to even make an entry. Because I'm not profound; I'm just me, and I couldn't think of a single piece of awe inspiring revelation, or a revolutionary witty retort. I lost my words. It happens sometimes, like when I'm getting fucked over at work, but can't assert myself to respond. I'm quite happy to advocate on behalf of others, but when it comes down to it, I turn into a quivering inarticulate mess, or shut the fuck up completely instead of actually defending or expressing myself. I had some issues with a co-worker, and interactions with this woman left me in a state of incoherent blabbering and feeling like my life would best be served hovering in a foetal position in a corner somewhere until I drop dead. I'm a fully fledged adult; I have boobs, two of them (admittedly they are quite small, but I've gained so much weight I'm a C cup now) but I'm still really bad at all the grown-up shit. Anyway, the thing about words is, they are always there, just stuck sometimes or not the ones you would nominally chose to use. Sometimes your meandering thoughts are going to be entertaining and sometimes they are going to be a boring self indulgent bucket of shit. I think the idea is to just write and see what comes out. And it's really hard to concentrate when my daughter is singing "Daddy, Why Did You Steal My Fries?" in the background.