Finding fun at a funeral.

As sad as it was to be attending a funeral last week due to the death of my granddad's often strange behaving wife, it's always good when you can find a hint of humour in room crowded with heartache.
The service was sweet. I have not been to many funerals, so I don't have much to compare it with, but I'm guessing how it played out was pretty standard for funeral fun levels. The priest made us sing, my granddad made us cry, I got a special mention as one of the grandchildren and my mum did a little reading which she later had to check ten times over "Was I ok? I stumbled a little bit, I think I'd like to do it again. I'm quite good at public speaking aren't I?"
After the service we all rolled on down to my granddad's party venue of choice, the local bowling club. We ate egg sandwiches, mini pies, deep fried chicken dippers and a range of other gourmet goods. I mainly hung out with my brother and my cousins as we tried to avoid long conversations with people of the older variety.
It was about an hour in and three glasses of wine down when I decided I would break loose from the youthful charm of my younger relatives and go find my old granddad for a chat.
I looked around the room for him and once I thought I'd found him I started to mosey on over. When I got a little bit closer I realised that this old man, with grey hair and a black suit wasn't the granddad I knew and loved. So I tried to search again. There he is, I must have thought as I started to make my way across the room to another old man with grey hair and a black suit. On approach I realised that this old man was too short to my old man. I looked around bewildered and tried to spot my grandad among the mass of old men with grey hair and black suits.
"Holy shit." I said a little too loudly. "This is like playing Where's Wally?"

Innocent Mistake - Could have happened to anyone

Well I certainly didn't think it was a big deal, but this guy absolutely freaked when he realised what had happened.

After good times at the local Kensington RSL, a couple of friends and I made our jolly way down to "The Regent" in Kingsford.
It was quite nice because we ran into a girl we knew, she was there celebrating her brother's 21st.
I met her brother - drunk, friendly, nice guy and OK by my standards!
About an hour after I had made my initial meeting with him and we had separated to do our own thing, he staggers over to the couch and sits next to me. I am certain that we made some sort of acknowledgment of one another, but now I can't be sure.
I was sitting forward and he was kind of lounging back so I couldn't see him and he couldn't see me, but about a minute after he sat down, I start to feel this slippery little hand fumbling in my jacket pocket. I had nothing in there, so I wasn't worried about this freshly 21 year old boy pick pocketing me. But I did find it a little strange.
His hand started to scramble around looking for some sort of comfortable position to hang out.
I looked over at my friends and his sister and informed them of what was happening behind me. We all found it kind of amusing, so I told them not to say anything to him.
My friends and the sister seemed to forget what I had told them was happening, meanwhile I was sitting next to Mr Touch and Feel whose hand had progressively made it's way up the back of my shirt.
I wasn't really sure what to do at this point because I had awkwardly let it go on for so long and how was I supposed to turn around now and say "Umm excuse me, is your hand lost?"
Much to my relief and to the amusement of all his friends, another strawberry blonde girl in a leather jacket wanders over and gracefully takes a seat across from us, smiling at him, obviously not being able to see what games his hand was playing with my bra strap.
At that moment, the hand is pulled at lightning speed from under my shirt and a young boy springs up next to me with ever so wide eyes.
"I am so sorry!" he blabbers as he looks back and forth at me and my look alike. "I thought..I thought you were...shit, I'm so sorry!"

Emma on the roof

My housemates and I decided to get a cleaner.
This is the message I got from my 19 year old cousin/housemate/friend when the cleaners arrived.
I got home and sure enough, she was on the roof and they had taken over the house.

Addiction to Facebonk

I have decided to give up Facebook for the month of July because I am participating in dry July and I find Facebook sopping wet with addiction.
So far it's been hard. Pretty much straight after I deactivated (like a robot) and evacuated from the site, I felt like updating my status to let everyone know that I had bitten the bullet and done it.
I could tell that Facebook didn't want me leave, as soon as I clicked on the deactivate option, they were were straight up in my grill.
"Are you sure you want to deactivate?"
"You can re-activate your account at any time by simply logging in with your old email address and password."
"Your friends are going to miss you."
Thanks Facebook, way to make it even harder for me! I can't believe Dayna, who punched me in the face in high school is going to miss me, did she really say that?
I went to bed and suffered immediate Facebook withdrawal symptoms - nightmares, cold sweats and headaches. Apparently the first three days are the hardest.
I think if I start to get weak and tricking myself into thinking I just need one little hit, one little look into who has been tagged in a photo or what bogan Facebook groups my bogan mates from Mudgee are joining, I'm going to have to get a friend to change my password.
I don't really know who I would trust though. Maybe my brother. Family are the best people to turn to in hard times like these.

Be careful how you wear it

I tend to be very careful about what underwear and clothes I wear on certain days. For example if I think somebody might be seeing my underwear, I tend to pick from my more fetching variety of briefs or if I'm sure nobody will be seeing them because most days I do tend to keep my clothes on, I choose from my older, less smart selection.
Arrogantly, I have left the fear of a boy randomly lifting up my skirt back in my primary school days with duck duck goose and likes and unfortunately, just last Friday, on one of my rotten old underpants day, my assumption of no eyes on me and my briefs took a turn for the worse.
On my not very common visit to the doctors, I unpleasantly had to reveal my true harry high pants style.
After discussing my scolliosis with old Doc Tocker, he unexpedely asked me to take off my dress so he could assess the severity. Not to worry I first thought, although I'm under prepared by wearing this old g-banger underneath my SHEER stockings which I have pulled up so high I'm surprised I needed to wear a bra, I'm also wearing a long singlet top to cover the atrocities.
"That one too." he says bluntly.
Fiddle sticks I think to myself as I remove the top to reveal the unpleasant scene of me in a bra, gstring and see through stockings.
Doc Tockers then walks behind me "Ok, just bend forward really slowly."
He's a professional, he's a professional, he's a professional.

Stationary Nerds!!!

Bahar! When I was Google searching for an image of staples, look what I found, absolute, 100%, born and bred - STATIONARY NERDS!

I Love My Job, I Love My Job

Does anybody else get as excited as I do when it's time to refill the stapler? No? Okay.

Flannery Alden said... Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I love the feel of the sleek, compresses staples. I like the way they are machined to fit precisely in the stapler. I love to look at the engineering inside the stapler. It's totally cool.

Cap'n Ergo "Carthage" Jinglebollocks said... I always get a small feeling of accomplishment-- to know that I've gone through a strip of 150+ staples means that I've been Accomplishing Something.
Do either of you like the smell of a fresh sharpened pencil?? Do you get a good feeling when you look at the stub of a pencil knowing that you've Done Something? I sho' as hell do. I even have a JAR for all my old pencil stubs.

Hahn at Home said... Having a dull pencil and using the sharpener...that's my gig

It's such a punch in the face to run out of staples.

I just ran out of staples. It's so disappointing when I'm in the middle of some serious stapling work and then I click out a blank. It's a lot like when those action heroes in movies are shooting away at their enemies willy nilly and all of a sudden they've run out of bullets.
I'm like click, click, click, blank. "Damn! I'll never link it together with this piece of metal and have it ready for filing away" and the action heroes are like "Damn! I'll never kill this guy Trevor with this piece of metal and have him ready for his grave ."
The spare staples are all the way up the stairs in the stationary cupboard for me which is ok but the action heroes have way more of a pickle on their hands if they run out of bullets.
The direction of this has turned, I'm really feeling for the action heroes, I should stop complaining and go get the spare staples.

How not to sell the idea of Chat Roulette!

My friend was really excited the other day to tell me about the new web phenomenon - Chat Roulette!

"Oh Jess, have you been on Chat Roulette?" she asked.
"No."
"It's really cool! Except I went on there and first up was confronted with a man touching himself."
"Oh right, um, sounds good....???"
"Yeah so I clicked the next button and there was a couple of weirdos just sitting there staring at the camera."
"So wait, it is cool or not cool?"
"Well it's cool, but I don't know, I saw all that and logged off because I got scared."
"But what makes it so cool then?"
"It's a cool idea."
"But all you've seen is some guys dirty genitalia and some weirdos staring at you."
"Yeah well I got scared and logged off."
"I'm not sold."
"No no, it's a really cool idea!"

Since then I've worked out (by worked out, I mean tried out) that you just go to the website with your webcam and get linked up to random people around the world and while the idea and extremity of it is quite "cool", I think my friend needs to find a better way to sell it!!

Dogsitting

I just found this ad on Gumtree.com.au (I was not looking up dogsitting!) and found this cute little ad from a German girl. I love poor English.
I'm still thinking of a way to play with this idea. Standby.

Hey, I´m an 27 years old girl from Germany (Munich) and LOVE dog! I´m here with the "Work & Travel" Visa until February 2011. I would love to take your dog for a walk and playing or just dogsitting. From Monday to Thursday, during the time of 9am to 3pm I´m availabel to sitting your dog. I´m confidential and responsible! I´m really looking to hear you! Please call me or right me on e-mail! Greetings Daniela

What the?

I moved house in March, literally about 20m up the road from my old place.
Moving house is great because you have an excuse to throw a killer "house warming" party and people give you killer "house warming" gifts.
The best gift I received, apart from the remarkable cleaning products my mum gave me, was a milkshake maker. It's really cute, it has little udder on and off switches and everything.
I love milkshakes, all flavours of milkshakes, but the other day I decided to make a frosty chocolate milkshake.
So I was in the kitchen, well and truly ready to drink this awesome milkshake I had just made and all of sudden a bunch of boys just show up in my yard.

My Phantom Masseuse

I have a phantom masseuse at the Chiropractor. My Chiro walks out of the room every time saying "Ok, just lie face down and my assistant will be in to do some muscle work in a minute."
I make myself comfortable and lay my face into the pillow briefly before hearing the door creep back open. I wait a few awkward moments before a deep male voice says "Hello Jessica."
To avoid making it too awkward, I cheerily greet him back and then we don't speak again for the rest of our time together.
The room is always so quiet and I hear every bit of noise that he makes. Sometimes I hear his stomach growl and wonder if he is hungry. It's weird because I don't know whether to laugh or comment, I don't know what he is thinking, perhaps he is glad I don't know who he is when things like this happen.
Sometimes when he is down low, really getting into my shoulder muscles, his face becomes so close to my ears that I hear him lick his lips. Thirsty? Or does he think I look delicious in my baggy jumper and leggings?
It's always funny when his arms have to go around my head to reach my back, I can feel his arm hairs tickling my ears, it's always kind of gross and disturbing, but I enjoy telling people. Although I haven't seen my phantom masseuse, I picture him as being a fury chap.
The first time I was in there he put his hands on my shoulders and took them back off, put them back on and took them back off. He then rubbed them together really loud as if he was about to do something which took a lot of courage and then he put them back on. They weren't even any warmer.
I can't wait until my next trip to the Chiro to spend time with me phantom masseuse.

Curious Candle

Once upon a time there was a candle who sat on the top of the shelf. He was an inquisitive fellow and decided to check out what lay on the shelf below. Much to disappointment, it was nothing but a rusty old cowbell.

A Unicorn Bite

1. EXT - DAY

Two Aussie men, Harry and Tony, mid forties, sit beside a river fishing. Beers in one hand, rods in the other. Nothing can be heard except the ambiance of the Australian bush. The silence is soon interrupted by a loud buzzing noise, all of sudden Harry jumps back and whacks the air around his ear.

HARRY
Oh Christ! Something just bloody bit me!

Tony looks up bemused.

TONY
Yeah?

HARRY
Yeah mate, yeah, hurt ay. Think it was one of them bloody march flies.

TONY
Yeah? A horse fly ay?

HARRY
What? No a march fly mate, a march fly, a bloody march fly bit me.

TONY
Yeah mate, a horse fly bit ya.

HARRY
Nah mate, a march fly bit me.

TONY
Yeah mate, a horse fly bit ya.

HARRY
Mate, why do ya keep sayin’ horse fly? It wasn’t a unicorn mate.

TONY
Yeah, I guess it wasn’t a unicorn, we would have noticed that ay? March fly musta bit ya mate.

Facebook Clubs

I saw someone join a facebook group today - "I will never cheat in a relationship." One of my favourite things about Facebook is how it can disguise how stupid people really are. It would be cool if these groups that people are becoming members of were actually real social clubs.

Hi my name is Jess and I’m a keen member of all sorts of different clubs. I’m very busy but I try to divide my time equally across all of my clubs. I have a pony and I’m a member of Pony Club, I read about 5 books a week as an eager member of Book Club. I’m a member of Fuck You He Was Mine First Bitch, that’s always a lot of fun, us girls get together and take turns in bringing baked treats. I’m also a member of the Golf club, I play golf every Sunday afternoon but sometimes it conflicts with my obligations to be at If a Girl Fucks She’s a Slut, if a Guy Fucks He’s a Hero Club which I’ve been a member of since I was seven. I go to the Soldiers Club once a week for dinner and I never miss a single club meeting of If You’re Going to Get Drunk, You Might as Well Get Completely Fucked Up, this one involves heavy binge drinking and sometimes we end up in hospital.

Batmobile

This is a little skit Tim Crocker (best guy) told me last night. Straight from his imagination and straight into my creative little writing hands! Both Tim and I see it as a cartoon, much in the same style of Seth Mac Farlane's Cavalcade of Cartoon Comedy. Let's begin.

1. EXT - NIGHT TIME - CITY STREETS
BATMAN is up to his usual crime-fighting activities, speeding down the busy city streets of LA in his gadget-laden Batmobile. You can see an array of bullets coming from the car full of criminals, they are bouncing straight off BATMAN'S bullet proof, sleek street machine. BATMAN laughs at his foes attempt to harm him before his Batmobile flies into the air and lands loud and heavily in front of the criminals vehicle, cornering them. Police cars swiftly arrive on the scene and arrest the criminals.

2. EXT - NIGHT TIME - SUPERMARKET
After a heavy night, an exhausted BATMAN parks his car in the supermarket car park and walks in.

BATMAN
Good evening Mr Jones.

MR JONES
Oh hi Batman. Just the usual?

BATMAN
Yeah thanks.

MR JONES packs up a bottle of whiskey and a packet of cigarettes as BATMAN pays. Outside in the carpark a lady finishes putting her groceries into the back of her car and as she turns away the shopping trolley starts rolling. It picks up speed and runs straight into the Batmobile parked near by. BATMAN wanders out of the store to his vehicle.

BATMAN (annoyed)
Oh for fucks sake.

The Lemon Detox Diehard

A little something I put together in the awful period of my life when I thought the Lemon Detox Diet was for winners!

The thought of food makes my mouth water. Literally. I haven’t eaten in five days and the stupid part about this is that it’s by choice completely. I’ve put myself in this situation and now I am stuck here by the power of will.

I wanted to rid my body of this excess fat that cuddles my hips so attentively and I wanted to relieve my temple of the toxins that should never have got past the guards.

This is not an easy procedure. Desire for food is always present and the only way to hinder it even slightly, it is to rebuke my innocent taste buds with the vulgar, uncomfortable taste of a concoction put together by some nutty natural health enthusiasts.

But even then, when I torment my body with the ‘vital’ lemon and syrup combination, the hunger has only really had its edge taken off and that edge re-generates very quickly, like the healing process of a wolf in Stephanie Meyers Twilight saga. The edge is re-built and my stomach is immediately alerted, sending an instant plead to my brain “Feed me bitch!”

I then have to calm my sorry brain down, convince it that food is for peasants, convince it that we are above food, convince it that we only want liquid!

I make my way to the fridge which can never be too far away, to find the sickening replenishment to demolish, the sickening replenishment that they call the Lemon Detox Diet.

I've been inspired by girl I know who has a groovy little blog site, (http://www.babyanything.blogspot.com) to create my own blog so I can share what I deem to be my own creative talent. I like writing. I like being funny. I'm in my element when I say something and get people laughing. Saying things that make people laugh is different to writing and making people laugh though, I think being funny is about impeccable timing and wit. Both being expertise I sometimes have by accident. I have the ideas though, of what is funny, so I'm going to give it a shot at writing them down so you people can give me feedback and make me feel good about myself. Or bad about myself if you really want to be a jerk. No, seriously, I'm up for some constructive criticism and insults. Fire away. I love you.