Archive for January 2007

I found it

January 31, 2007

I have been sent countless emails with links to the “lebo thugz” video on youtube (yes the one on the news) and numerous other ones that are similar. Mostly from my lebo friends.

However, today, I got one with a “response” clip attached. Funny how its my skip friends who are circulating these. lol

Im thinking its the best one ive got so far. Let me know if you have a better one.

So, lebo thugz, where the bloody hell are you?

(thankyou to the imbicile who txtd me to say “pack raping lara bingle – explains why noones heard from her in a while” your a goose!)


Fuckers Are Messing With Me

January 30, 2007

So welcome to my 3 new arrivals to the blog. That I know in real life. Two I helped, one found it herself (little miss smarty pants).

Thankyou Dickhead for pointing out the error in my last post. And thankyou for lying to me just to see my reaction. And please kindly tell me next time it IS your finger in my ass and you choose to “just see what youd do” when you dont admit it. You. Sick. Fucker.

Can the person who said they cried twice in one night reading my blog please not? Its not that bad, surely? No seriously, what I wrote about you was not supposed to do that. And either was the bit about dying. Im here now, lets just enjoy that, and worry about the rest later, mkay?

And as for the one who said he sat there crying like a bitch – suck it up baby and get me my coffee! Cmon, the only thing you like more than my sexy arse is my smart arse!

That new ad with Sigrid freaking thornton? Whom i hate? Your WRONG biatch. Most Smoking related illnesses are NOT slow and painful ways to die! Its freaking FAST! Didnt you read my “facts” post? Theres something thats NOT “whats good for you”. Fuck off. You Suck.

What the fuck is this new andrew okeefe show? Rich List? This has apparently been on before? Shows i dont watch much tv, hey. What I want to know is, if those 2 guys have supposedly never met before, why do they dress in tandem? And how flamingly gay is the skinny one? And how weird are his eyebrows? And does he get his make up done by bert newtons makeup artist? And if so, why? Actually, WHY is a very apt question to ask about the entire show. I dont get it. I know i didnt watch much, but still. And why is the skinny guy trying to jump n hump the fat one all the time? I didnt hink even gay men liked strange men jumping all over them. Particularly ones with bert newton makeup on. On national tv.

96.1fm i love you but that K-Sera girl fucking pisses me off. Stop talking about your “home boys” and your “peeps”. You sound like a fuckwit. And interviewing and editorialising are two COMPLETELY different things. Look one up. Id suggest looking them both up but im not sure you can spell. You make me cringe. I get gangsta speak. I like rnb, hip hop and rap. i like crunk. i know who tupac and biggie et al are (and am aware of the hilarity of using et al in that sentence). I know you do. But you sound as try hard and ridiculous as those callers “giving a shout out to all the 2142 boyz, representin it yo!” K-Sera, i may be wrong, but behind all that “frontin” and “representin” you do, you can construct a coherant sentence. You can use words that arent monosyllibic. I think you may have gone to school. Uni even. So please, your not fooling anyone. You arent black, your not from detroit, and you arent tough. In fact, when I hear you speak, i get visions of you holding something small, cute, and fluffy. And liking it.

Im in a weird place. Stuff is happening. And not happening. And my brain wont think, the fucker. Id give alot just to be able to think again. I dont like not being smart. I know many of you wouldnt believe it, but im actually clever-like.


I was.

Cancers a cunt.

and normally i dont even use that word.

on a side note, the arabic seems to suddenly be sinking in. weird.

maybe it was all those fucking UBER hot lebbos I was hanging out with on sunday morning. phwoar! i mentioned my little addiction to dickhead, and how hot those arabs are, and all he did was laugh. the little fucker didnt even offer himself up for me to satiate myself with. damn. damn his frustratingness. damn their hotness. and by that i mean GOD DAMN!!!! lol. those lips, those eyes, those muscles, those accents, that confidence……


yes mr-you-know-who-you-are, i do remember your saying. this leb constantly tells me that i dont know how hard it is being a leb, having to film it everytime he fucks, so that at the end of it he can share it with his mates…….. a copy for each defence lawyer.

Bowing to Pressure

January 30, 2007

Well not really, because I was going to spill the beans anyway, but im too lazy to think of good titles (as we all know). So here it is. The post about what happened on Sunday.

Remember that girl I liked? M&M? Well Bugalugs and I went to lunch with her, her partner (Mr M&M) and her daughter (Little M&M). We went to Westfields near them, as on the top level (which I now know exists – excited much) they have live music, decent restaurants, and this week a petting zoo, which the kids loved.

Lunch was great, lots of food (that I couldnt even manage half of) and great company and easy conversation. Little M&M took ages to get over her shyness, which she did eventually, whilst Bugalugs went about chatting up the waitress, managing to scam some free chokkies and marshmallows. LOL. That kid finds friends everywhere he goes!

We had such a good time, that we continued on to McDonalds for the kids to play, and as Dickhead was finally finished work, he met us there, and got to meet M&M and her family.

We had such a good time that we ended up each going home to deal with the kids, pets, family, etc, and all making their way to my house for drinks.

Dickhead wasnt sure if he could come, but sure enough half hour or so after M&M and Mr M&M arrived, he walked in. The boys drank the obligatory beers, M&M was into her bourbon, and me? Well being the intelligent responsible adult that I am, I took my meds.

And then washed them down with 2 bottles of sparkly.

As you do! So please forgive me for being a little less than sure of the exact details, and having no clue whatsoever of the timeline for things. I will admit to having slightly less concern as to the fact that we had company, and yet i was cuddled up next to Dickhead on the lounge opposite Mr & Mrs M&M, and may or may not have been reaching back to covertly play with Dickheads cock through his jeans.


In fact, it was less a covert operation as a blatantly obvious one, and I cant say I even really realised that perhaps having company might not be the most polite thing to do at the time. Truth be told i was also playing with Ms M&M’s legs with my toes. Oops.

11pm rolls around and the M&Ms have a 30 minute drive and a 5.00 start. Dickhead has a 50minute drive and a 5.30 start. They start saying they will have to finish their drinks and go. Dickhead suggests that I kiss her. I tell him I cant, that nothing will happen, that she told me earlier that she had her period, you know, as girls do – we bitch about it.

Dickhead turns to Ms M&M. Beckons. Asks her to kiss me. She does. Mmmm.

Thats it. Next thing I know Im engrossed in exploring her soft mouth with my tongue, caressing her face, stroking her hair. Not noticing the  rather pleased with himself Dickhead on my right, nor the more than slightly surprised Mr M&M on my left. Shes lovely. Shes kissing me, Im kissing her, her hands drifting over my back and my hips, gently holding my head as I melt in the moment. Completely out of my head, unable to really think, just living in the moment. I slowly move down to kiss and lick the swell of her breast, gently moving her shirt aside and taking her nipple into my mouth, making her inhale, and me happy.

Im not entirely sure how we got there, but soon enough I had Dickheads cock in my mouth and her hands all over me. Not very long after that, Mr M&M was in the same situation with his woman.

Like I said, I was very drunk, so i will have to include plenty of “cut to” moments. Because I really dont know how I got there. Im really not good at writing this stuff. Im good at living it, and playing it in my head, but they arent so much moments and pictures that stay in my mind, its how it felt that keeps the memories there. There was much seeking of reassurance and permission, seeing as previously Dickhead has had serious trouble dealing with me fucking other men whilst we had split up. He IS arab, and arabs DO have issues with ownership and jeleousy. The whole thing shocked me, that he started it, with Mr M&M there.

I know one of his favourite moments of the evening was watching me play with Ms M&M’s breasts, massaging one with my hand, holding the other to my mouth to lick and suck and her nipple, hearing her enjoying me, watching me enjoying her. And I was, I really was. He loved when I moved between his legs and took him in my mouth, moving her in to join me, sharing him, having her take him int o her mouth while I licked and sucked at his balls, moving upwards, tracing the length of him with my tongue, metting her mouth at the top, kissing her, sharing the taste of him, the feel of each other, breaking apart to take him again with out tongues, softly licking over him, watching each other, feeling each other, pleasing ourselves with his smoothness and firmness, the delicious contradictions, returning again to the softness of each other, hands and mouths exploring each other, until Dickhead was left behind, not forgotten, but put aside while we immersed ourselves in each other.

Kissing and caressing, being gently pushed backwards until I was laying on the floor, Dickhead in my right hand, Mr M&M in my left, kissing and sucking one, then the other, while Ms M&M settled herself between my thighs, ever so softly and gently exploring me with her tongue, her lips, and her slow, gentle fingers. Softly and slowly, the warmth and wetness from her tongue relaxing, soothing, bringing out my warmth and wetness to join hers, making my body undulate with her ministrations, soft sounds unable to be contained, brought from my mouth to the boys ears, their reactions encouraging me to share my pleasure with them in turns.

Leaning forwards with Dickhead in my mouth (see what I mean about loving to suck cock?) massaging his length with my tongue, stroking him and caressing his balls in my hands as i re-aquainted my tongue with every inch of him, hands and fingers between my legs, firm masculine pressure inside of me, soft feminine pressure outside, sometimes melding so I could no longer tell who was who, working me up, making me more and more intent and intense with pleasuring my man, while Ms M&M and her man pleasured me.

Ms M&M taking Dickhead into her mouth, Mr M&M kissing me, both of us kneeling, entwined with one another, his fingers incessantly searching inside of me, kissing me, kissing him, kissing me, releasing my lips as i moved down, taking him in to my mouth, feeling the differences of him to my man, the similarities, learning how he feels, what he responds to, how he feels on my tongue.

Ms M&M moving Dickhead, encouraging, asking him to take me, reclining with her man to watch as he did as she requested, settling himself on top of me,  entering me as I stroked his cheek, pulling him in to kiss me, my other hand smoothing over his ass, familiarising with his tempo, as Mr M&M’s hand carressed Ms M&Ms breasts.





There is, as always, plenty Im not saying here, and I wont. Some things I think are better for not saying them, by keeping them private, its somehow more special, more intimate.

Theres also alot i was just quite simply too drunk to know, or remember, or be able to explain.

I must say im glad that Dickhead and I have a strong enough relationship for me to be able to ask “babe, you were fingering me at one stage there, right?” and know he wouldnt be offended that i wasnt able to tell if it was him or not. (for the record, i was pretty sure, and I was right). And you have to be glad when you can say to your partner when he asks what you wanted to know about that night is “who was it that was fingering my arse?” and not have him freak out. His biggest concern about that was whether or not i liked it. (and for the record it wasnt him)

Dickhead and I have our problems as a couple. We have our problems as individuals too. What we have is fucked up, its not normal, its not right, and it never will be.


What we have is special. Nobody reading this will understand just how special, because there are 3 vital bits of information that I will not reveal. But for us to be strong enough to do this, considering those 3 things? Well, it leaves me speachless.

I know! I never thought Id say that either!

So babe, if you read this? That things thats such a big deal to me? It may be big in a bad way, but this is even bigger, and in a good one.

I guess it just reminds me that i, you know, like you and shit.


Drunken Debauchery continues unabated

January 29, 2007

LAST NIGHT was an absolute corker!

I promise to regail you all with the tale, which kicks the ass of the recent threesome story.

And Dickhead was there so no details need to be held back. W00T!!

But for now, Im trying to finish updating the blogroll, that ive been doing for 2 weeks now.


A Return to WTFness

January 29, 2007

Ok. So.

WTF is with these trends lately? Who the hell wants sunnies that are bigger than your goddamn head? You are NOT a blowfly. Take them off, you look ridiculous.

Why oh why do I continue to do it? I know you are a stunning handbag. I know I just HAVE to have you. Even though you are TOO SMALL TO FIT ALL MY SHIT IN. Each time we meet, I buy you, trying to fool myself into believing that a smaller bag will make me carry less stuff. It doesnt work that way though does it? No. Then I have to go out and buy your big brother or sister. Which just makes me take EVEN MORE shit with me wherever I go, till I get to the point where I want to buy a smaller bag so I will take less stuff. And the cycle begins again. Gucci, you are my nemesis. And really, I mean lets face it, we all know I’ll end up leaving you in the car most times anyway and cram shit in my jeans pockets, and wander around with phones and keys in my hands, coz i dont like carrying handbags. I just like that you look pretty and you are mine. (as you soon will be, yes im talking to you, you cute little tan JAG thing that I saw recently but didnt have time to stop and get, I will have you, you know its just a matter of time)

A while ago I was complaining about the pink shirt on men thing. I dont like it. Unless your olive skinned and have plenty of confidence and charisma, and even then it doesnt always work. Honestly, Ive only ever seen this look carried off by a few arab and mediteranean men. But then, you men had to go and do the popped collar thing. SIGH. You make me want to act like an old woman, run up to you, turn down your collar and berate you for not having dressed yourself properly. Your making me feel old. Stop it. It feels like its only a matter of time before im asking if you have clean undies on, telling you that your pants could do with an iron, and licking my thumb to clean your face. I have repeatedly thanked Dickhead for not succumbing to the “pop your collar” trend. I thought we had suffered through enough mens fashion fuckups for the year, but no. Apparently you had to completely outdo yourself. You had to try and compete with the whole stretched lycra no-my-balls-arent-squished-enough-please-make-it-tighter monstrocity of yesteryear. Thats right. The fashionistas have decided its cool to get droves of boys to sit with a bowl on their heads and let drunken, acid-fuelled blind men come at their hair with whipper-snippers. I mean cmon! (*does layton hewitt hand thingy like a retard*)

And why are we still getting more and more franjipanis on our cars? You look like fuckwits. Complete fuckwits. Is this the new handicapped sign? Is the little blue wheelchair one for people with physical problems, and the franjipanni for those who are just plain stupid? Personally I dont think you deserve a better parking spot for that. Perhaps directions to the nearest cliff would be better? Do us all a favour – FUCK THEM OFF! Oh, and a special note to the girl i was following yesterday – franjipanni seat covers are not tres cool coz they go with the stickers on your car. Its too much, mkay? Way too much. Just like your lip liner. You are not a blow up doll. You do not have a mouth like that. Although I do see how people may get confused, but last time i checked the RTA wasnt handing licences to inflatables. But then, they’ll give those things to anyone nowadays. Perhaps Bugalugs’ bllue dinosaur could be my cheauffer? hmmm, ill have to look into that methinks….

And while were at it (ranting I mean) to the retard who abused me for braking on the freeway  – thats what happens when you ride my ass with out asking. You ignored my polite slowing down to give you the hint. You ignored my flipping the bird to you in the mirror. You got what you asked for. I really thought I was doing you a favour. You guys like to ride us girls asses – arent you always asking us to participate? to buck back? I need a new respray on my rear bar. Bring your insurance details. Im happy to play it that way.

Oh and Mcdonalds? FOR FUCKS SAKE LEARN HOW TO MAKE COFFEE.  I am sooooo hungover this morning and no i cant manage to get out and walk so drive thru it is. And your the only cunt whos anywhere nearby. But this shit you sell – its ridiculous. You cant coulour the water brown and call it coffee. Coffee has a kick. Coffee wakes me up. Coffee makes me stop groaning and mumbling and feeling like someone rode an ostrich over my belly and had a rhino shit in my head. I dont do hungover. Get your fucking act together.

June Dally Watkins didnt cover this….

January 29, 2007

So then, Ms Queen of Manners for Every Situation, what does your finishing school have to teach us about the correct ettiquette for every situation in this mornings lesson?

Dont have anything planned?

Want to take questions from the class?

You do? Excellent!

Then tell me, Ms Watkins, I discovered that my vibrator has dissappeared. Uhuh. It has! Its not where I keep it! I checked in the bed, looked under the covers and all the pillowy goodness, and nuthin! I got down on my hands and knees and peered underneath the bed on the floor, still nuttin!

So tell me, how exactly do I ask my 6yr old son if he has taken his mummys favourite toy?

You know, without telling him what it is, scarring him for life, or possibly alerting him to its presence if he doesnt actually have it?

Go on. Tell me that.


January 27, 2007

Dickhead and I discussed today the fact that he is in my will. He knows he gets something, but he also knows I will not answer how much. And for those of you who worry, dont. Bugalugs gets almost everything, and will be fine. Lucky for me I’m an Accountant, and Financial Planning is something I PRACTISE and not just PREACH. With out implying anything about my financial status, Im smart enough to have Life Insurance, and have done since before he was born. Plus I own my house, and so in sydney (even out here in the west) you know theres at least 300K in the sale of that no matter what. And seeing as he will be cared for by my parents who are financially sound and will support him themselves, and I interrupt here to say sucko mum n dad, you were enjoying this past year since your youngest moved out, huh? (btw my sis will be out of hospital soon, and moving back in with them for her rehab stints) So Bugalugs will be pretty well set for life (once hes old enough to have one) even if they DO dip into it to finance raising him. (which I dont have a problem with) So as you can see, its all sorted. What was I saying? Oh yeah, so Dickhead scores some cash (no bumping me off early so you can collect, mkay babe?)

The point is (or at least was going to be when i sat down to type, before the rambling started) that in discussing it with him, and a couple of mini-chats ive had with others these past few days (and oh yeah, DH got out of hospital this week – hense the lack of me posting) its made me think that for the benefit of friends who dont really DO these conversations, and for those wondering but too lazy to google, lets give some facts on where im at, and where im going, mkay?

Yes I do remember I was drafting a “facts” post a while ago but……SHADDUP. lol

So firstly some statistics on Lung Cancer, and what it is, and how you get it. (besides being the “worlds biggest retard with the most fucked up luck in the history of ever” like I am)

For starters, Lung Cancer is the leading cause of cancer deaths basically around the world, in both men AND women. If your gunna get cancer, and want to live, this is NOT the bitch you want. (although there are more unpleasant ones to endure, this cunt is deadly). Less than 15% of those diagnosed with Lung Cancer live for 5 years.

Yeah, you heard right, read it again, it doesnt change.

Theres 4 main types, and no, im not spilling the exact details of mine here. Suffice to say I cant say it, let alone spell it! lol. 85% of lung cancer is caused by ciggarettes. That leaves 15% of other causes, which are heaps, and who gives a fuck really. I guess those who keep smoking, and yes i was included in that category until recently, are foolhardy (but my dad still smokes 2 packs a day as at this very moment) or lucky.

SYMPTOMS – this includes some scary news folks, that i didnt know until a few weeks ago. 25% of sufferers have NO SYMPTOMS at the time of diagnosis. Different types have different symptoms, and not all sufferers have all the symptoms, or even the same ones as another patient. The main ones are coughs, coughs that wont go away, coughs that change, coughing up blood, chest pains, shortness of breath, wheezing, and infections like bronchitis and pneumonia (shaddup about my spellin, got it?) Lung Cancer is a fucker at spreading to other parts of the body and developing secondary cancers. Other symptoms that arent so common are growing extra boney bits (yes thats a scientific term, shaddup) aneamia, muscle weakness, weightloss, fatigue, skin irritations and brain function deterioration.


Have we all finished laughing at that last one? Can we move on now please?

Yes, that is one im suffering from. We’ll come back to that in a second (if my brain hasnt deteriorated too far by then, mkay?)

On a personal level, most of those, no wait, all of those are things I am experiencing. Some others too, because of the treatment im undergoing.

Whats really getting me down at the moment is the brain thing. I know Ive bitched before about my memory being fucked, and being unable to remember the word i want to use (sometimes quite simple words) and being unable to focus on the conversation at times, even when there isnt any hotties walking past. But now, well, its worse. I keep messing up words, saying things i never meant to say, and things that dont make sense. I keep forgetting what im on about.

I cant drive. I certainly cant park. I have no depth perception. I cant judge how fast im going. Im a speed freak, and do at least 20km over the limit everywhere I go, and the other day i was doing just under 80 in a 110 zone. No, not heavy traffic. No, not double demerits. I thought I was going fast. Granted, it was at night, and i cant see so well at night any more. Im getting confused as to which side the indicators are on (yes my car is german and has them on the wrong side, but im used to that. Or i WAS until about 5 days ago.)

Not being able to drive anymore will be very hard. Dickhead and I have trips planned to the sth coast, canberra, and the hunter. Guess he will be doing the driving huh. (and look – ner ner ni-ner ner my brain hadnt packed it in yet)

So DH is going overseas for treatment for his own thing in mid march. My birthday is the 3rd, so he will be here for that. And my birthday was the estimate of the end of my “useful” time. By useful, i mean the time where i can do shit other than lying there like a lump. He asked when I got sick, how would it go. Im calling it “when I get sick” coz im retarded and am pretending like im not sick now. Im also saying “when Im gone” and “when im finished with you” because saying ‘when im dead’…well….its just not something i can say without getting all weird. Its my impending doom, and fuckers, Ill deal with it my way, mkay? If you dont like it, feel free to swap and show me how its done. Ill swap back once you have, promise! *crosses fingers behind back and looks around, whistling innocent-like*

Well folks, luckily, when I get too sick to annoy my friends with my fucktardary, the end will come quickly. Im stubborn and strong, and will fight a good fight to stay active as long as possible. When I cant continue, I really wont be able to continue. I will basically be a useless lump for a week or two and stop breathing. That last week or so will be a cunt of a time, and i will no doubt be glad its over. There is little about this life that i will miss, but that which i do, will break my heart. Im not scared of dying really. Im just furious at myself for failing as Bugalugs’ mum. Everyone else will deal, and will cope, and will get over it, but something like that affects a kid forever. And no half decent mum on the planet can ever accept that they are doing that to their kid. And thats all i have to say about that, ala Forest Gump.

So DH may just miss my final demise. And before you say or think anything, stop. Make sure its nothing bad. Yes, part of me wants him to be here for me, the selfish part, ill admit it. But also part of me wants him to miss it. I dont want him to have to see me like that. To have to deal with anything more awful than need be. And this treatment thing hes leaving me for is something that could be so so good for him, and I will not deny him that. I wont deny him the chance to get better. No matter what the cost to me. However, I did say I would not condone him leaving while im still good! I cant stop him, but yeah, id be mighty pissed! Truth be told, I desperately hope that it works for him. I honestly do. Its not just words, my own situation has made me want this chance to come good for him so badly its ridiculous.


back to me, coz im such an attention whore and this is MY blog, dammit!

So like I said, Lung cancer = bitch that bites BIG TIME. Stats quoted to me by a doc were 4/5 die within 2yrs, and 1 in 20 live past 5. awesome, huh! lol. yes, your allowed to laugh. Thats what stops the crying!

In the spirit of that comment, which is how i am in real life, and how ive always been, i leave you with this (seeing as that was such an awful, depressing, shitty, upsetting and heavy post)…………..

Min (my best friend) and I used to joke around a year or so ago, before i was diagnosed. Im one of those people who say theyve done just about everything (like that last meme thing shows lol) except ive ACTUALLY done the things I say i have. Ive fit an awful lot of living into my nearly 27yrs. I often wish i hadnt done most of them, but cest la vie. Anyhoo, when talking about all the shit ive dealt with in my life, i often commented to her that there were only 3 things left that i hadnt done or had happen to me: cancer, a heart attack, and dying – at least one of which was guaranteed to happen!

So either Im now going to live forever, or i won a bonus!

You never know, maybe ill be super lucky and get to be a REAL winner and get all three!

Hey – it could happen.

I’ll open the books at 5-1…………