Strong and Independent

Going out tonight, looking sexy in my new shoes which will probably eventually disable me over the course of the night. Limping is kind of cute anyway, kinda like the next level of wearing glasses and being a nerd. Guys are into that right? Wearing agent provocateur and shaved my snatch so I’m going to spend most of the night trying to look like I’m only accidentally flashing the dancefloor, clothes to snare a millionaire. Did I tell you I started a blog? I started a blog! It’s on beauty.

Misery Porn

Yeah we’ve done Angkor Wat and S21. It was amazing, like something out of Saw. Ruined my appetite but good for my diet haha. Wow check her out, looks like her diet’s going a little bit too well. God can we go back to the hotel, it’s getting a little bit too real out here. They’ve only got dial-up though, that’s some third-world shit...

Walks

Gosh South Terrace is so funky. So bohemian... oops dodge that one I think she wants your change, you’ve got to make the change you want to see darling haha! Didn’t the Dalai Lama say that? Think she got it? I doubt it. Putting the change into exchange! Yes so that film I saw the other day, so sad and so beautiful! I know, such an awful situation. We should do something about it. One of my friends is doing a fundraising thing, buy a ticket for a chance to stay in Broome and a fly-over of the Kimberley – no just Broome, I hear outside of that it’s a bit dodgy on the ground, late model fords and scabies all over the joint. Spew hey. Want a coffee? Let’s get a coffee, not here though, they don’t use fair trade...

Housemate Wanted

I found her naked in the shower tonight ostensibly dyeing her hair. The breakup has been tough on her, I think. Shouldn’t she be wearing gloves, I think. That hair dye sure is red, I think. “Changing your look, that’s the tr--” She looks up with a smile on what’s left of her face – “Don’t you know, honey? Blondes have more fun.”

Later, at the hospital, the doctors tell me that they don’t know whether she’ll survive the night, let alone the plastic surgery needed to put her face back on. Living with batshit girls, at least I’m never bored.

Jam

What started out as a few specks has become a steady trickle, which alarms me. I’ve become convinced I’m haemorrhaging.  As I shift on my chair I feel another flood. In the bathroom I check. A colony of clots is growing before my eyes on my stained panties. Briefly, before I pass out and hit my head on the toilet (which will later score me six staples and a ct head) I wonder what it would taste like. It looks like It’d taste really good, like my mother’s cherry jam.  Really should have had that pap smear.

Apocalypse Later

I like to drink tea. Nine, maybe ten hot cups a day. Sometimes I feel like my heart is going to burst from happiness with my first sip, but that might just be the caffeine. Any vessel will do but lately I’ve been sitting in the work kitchen at three am reading fiction and drinking hot earl grey with milk out of, inexplicably, delicately painted fine china. Outside I picture the collapse of civilisation, the rise of previously extinct megafauna and all the good people with pure souls ascending to a heaven haloed by ass virgins. Now don’t hurry me, I’m just finishing this cup of tea.