Thursday, December 27, 2007

Two types of people

There are two types of people in this world that I have unmeasurable feelings of hate for and thus I take this opportunity to discuss them in detail.

The Negomaniac

The Negomaniac prides his or herself on being the most positive person they know when in true fact, they are the opposite. Thriving on other peoples sympathy and kindness, they will often speak, or write, about their ill health, their bad luck or their downfalls - taking every opportunity to turn anything remotely positive into something obscenely negative. They also manage to push the blame for their circumstance onto some other unsuspecting soul who is simply just trying to live their life and be happy. This often results in them attacking, or stalking, the said soul for days, weeks, even months at a time. Consistantly bombarding them with letters, emails or text messages to remind them how they have apparently brought about the end of the Negomaniacs life.

And oh, how sometimes we wish it really was.

The Homewrecker

The Homewrecker loves monogamy. From their partner towards themselves but disregards it when it comes to themselves towards their partners. They also disregard it when it comes to other people and their partners - often choosing to embark on sexual adventures with people who are committed to others; beastly careless if it destroys the other persons relationship or not. Provided the Homewrecker gets their fix and has their faithful partner to go back to at the end of their romp, they simply do not care. However, life can go balls up for the Homewrecker when their 'faithful' partner decides they have had enough of the Homewreckers antics and decides to move onto greener pastures. Or should I say, cleaner beaches with no crabs as it may be.

Its rather amusing to me to have discovered that these two traits can be found within the one person. Hi Nic, sweetheart, this ones for you.

I've not said a word about your looks other than that I think you are a rather pretty girl, and yet you have called me the fugliest thing you have ever seen. I've been nice, in the hopes that you guys can stay friends but alas, you shoot me down in flames whenever I try, claiming that I'm being underhand, sly and downright cruel. So I give up. Now my blog child can announce to the world about your infidelity, really, cheating once wasn't enough, you had to do it twice? But its okay, because you apologized for it. Sorry honey, but the world doesn't quite work that way. But you've proved that you don't know much about how the world works through being a Negomaniac. Instead of looking to others to lay blame, look within girl, because if you open your eyes, you'll find it. Some people in this world offer their kindness and generosity because they are actually kind and generous people, which was my intention when I messaged you, those that automatically assume the person did it to be nasty have a real problem and a guilty conscience. I hope 2008 teaches you to live your life, instead of letting it be controlled by your illness. I understand a lot more than you think owing to the amount of terminal illness in my family., but it doesnt stop them from living life to the fullest, as life was intended to be lived.

Now, dear readers, on a much more happy note, Cam and I will very soon have an internet connection and will be able to return to you as the supreme diabolical genius force that we are, bringing you more satire and wit as we venture together into 2008. But first, I have an itch that requires scratching.. if you know what I mean... ;) *Meow*

- Miss ~K~

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Euphamisms: A Study of the Futile,the Pointless, and the just plain Wrong.

Euphemism is the substitution of an agreeable or less offensive expression for one that may offend or suggest something unpleasant to the listener; or in the case of doublespeak, to make it less troublesome for the speaker. (Relentlessly wrenched from the bowels of Wikipedia)

It is my opinion that the person who invented the concept of the euphamism needs to die. If (s)he is already dead, they need to be exhumed, brought back to life, and killed again. It is a sad fact that they exist, sugar coating the very words that usually make people stand up and pay attention.

A primary example of this lies in a realm that up until now has been cautiously avoided by the crew here at Arsenic and Jubilation. I speak of politics. I was enjoying an Oktoberfest celebration at the university watering hole last week, when we were approached - very nonchalantly I might add - by an individual who wanted to preach to us the virtues of socialism. I snickered quietly to myself and sat back, disinterested, while my companion decided to engage this stain upon the free market in conversation. I tuned out, listening to the entertainment around us as she blah blah'd on, tuning in occasionally to hear her talking about chair factories, planned economics, and the like. What made me emit an audible snort was when she defined socialism as 'communism, but with all the negative connotations removed'

Hah! Yes, because you can simply remove every bad reference to an ideology simply by calling it something else. I know! Let's rename Nazism to nationalism! There! The Holocaust never took place! I made it all better! Fuck off.

My point isn't really that socialism is bad. I believe it is, but if there is one thing that this writer has learned, it is to keep his political opinion to himself. My point is that anyone who preys on the ignorant by sugarcoating their extemist political views fancy new words needs to die a slow and painful death.


Monday, October 15, 2007

L.F.F. The New LG.

Dear followers,

I apologize for my absence in the last fortnight/month, I had been planning to keep making three to four posts a week whilst on my holiday but more pressing matters, such as global warming and being economical with water, were keeping me pre-occupied. (And not in the way that you might be thinking).

One of the more interesting pieces of news I have to share with you this evening, is my plans to relocate my mars base. To Sydney. To be with c0mander. Well, actually, I always did have plans to move off the island in search of studious opportunities, but never once entertained the idea that love might be found along the way, but thats exactly what has happened. Its only right really, after having this here blog child together, that we forge a relationship so that it has a loving and caring environment in which to gr... now I'm sounding like a sap. Moving on.

So yes, I will be returning to the island within the next fortnight to finalize a few things and gather my references and have many a farewell beer before returning at the end of the month, to seek work- both of us will spend our christmas in Tasmania with respective family members and then we will return together, to NSW, hopefully for good. (Well, my degree will take me approximately seven years... so I'll be here for a while anyway ;) )

This should provide you all with a brand new calibre of material oozing from Arsenic and Jubilation once we get our new mars base established, as you'll have the combined brain power of two diabolical geniuses, working together to bring you entertainment of gigantic proportions.

In other news, I am selling copious amounts of my belongings to fund the relocation of said mars base. The actual truth is that I am selling off all of my posessions to increase the dwindling dollars in the beer fund... but you need not know that, all you need to know is that you, dear reader, want to buy my shit. For my shit, is the shit. End of story.

I have also decided that TAFE Tasmania can find a rather large hole in which to bury itself in. Prior to that, it should coat itself in kerosene while I throw matches at it. Prior to that, it should be given to a blind person with a meat mallet, with the request "honey, could you pound the meat for dinner please?". Prior to that, it should be taken bungee jumping, but not given a cord. You may or may not be getting the idea that I dislike TAFE Tasmania at the moment, and probably will forever. TAFE Tasmania in all of their glory (which isn't all that much) decided to unenroll my genious self (Yes, can you believe that?), from my course, because I chose a holiday in Sydney over completing the work they were making me redo after they lost my originals.

You see, when faced with a decision like I was, of completing work I had already completed, again, just because some incompetant staff members misplaced my work and could not remember where they put it, or going on a holiday for 2-3 weeks, to a place a hell of a lot warmer than Tasmania, to research studious opportunities and hang out with an even-sexier-diabolical-genious-than-I, really, I ask you, what choice did I have?

Taking the obvious choice, I stayed in Tasmania and comple... No, not really.

But really, to hell with TAFE, because the University even turned their nose up at my past two years at TAFE, as it was not a diploma level, it matters not to them.

Perhaps, if they had not lost my work, I wouldn't have been so disheartened with them and would have forced myself to finish my year before going on my holiday, which might have meant that I would not be in the seriously happy place that I am now. LG have got it all wrong. Its not Lifes Good. Its LFF, Lifes Fucking Fantastic. That is all.

Monday, September 17, 2007

And verily I do return to mine domicile.

... without ritalin, and with many a story of adventure... and a brain with a somewhat alarmingly growing pile of suicided braincells. I conclude that my braincells are indeed 'pussys' and should learn how not to be classified as 'lightweights'.

It is here that I will post extreme kudos to the people who I consider to be my friends (who may or may not still see me as their friends, after the enebriated antics of this particular octopus).
Special mentions must go out to the following though;

Cariad - Thanks for trying to kill me with jagerbombs and for dancing with me like no one was watching ;)

Dylan - Thanks for trying to finish Cariad's job by feeding me Black Russians, sorry to inform you, but you failed. I'm very much alive (although was mostly dead on Sunday).

James - You're so much fun, sorry if Cariad and I freaked you out on the dance floor ;) we'll make a groover out of you yet!

Ben - Great to meet you, and thanks for saving us from the waitress spittle; although I'm beginning to think the spittle would have been nothing in comparison to the damage that music was doing to my head (or was that the alcohol, I can't be too sure).

Scotty and Kurt - Seriously, you guys could have waited till later in the night to get your groove on... (I'm not talking about dancing either).

Tom - For not deserting me a second time ;) (Even though I'd have probably ran miles if I was my friend too!! )

There is probably more people who are Kudos worthy, but I have to satisfy that female element inside of me that has an insatiable appetite for all things drama related.

The chicken was extremely nice and it is with great pleasure that I am able to inform you all that I managed to make it through the dinner on Saturday night without attracting a "dinner badge".
Urban Dictionary defines "Dinner Badge" as:
Dried stains of kebab juice, curry sauce or gravy all over your shirt from messy eating.
And to use in context, "That's an impressive dinner badge you've got there. What did you eat, pizza?"
I would be suprised if there was not a secret bet going on between attendees as to whether or not Miss ~K~ would be unco enough to be wearing a Dinner Badge or two by the end of the night - I'd say congratulations to whoever won the bet, but it is likely that not one of the fifty or so attendees would have voted against me collecting one. Or more than one.

Oh ye of little faith!

I've chosen to fish something out of my inbox to end this entry with, many of you have probably seen it before, but it still makes me smile. Enjoy ;)

EVER WONDER where we are headed...

Why the sun lightens our hair, but darkens our skin?

Why women can't put on mascara with their mouth closed?

Why you don't ever see the headline: "Psychic Wins Lottery"?

Why "abbreviated" is such a long word?

Why Doctors call what they do "practice"?

Why you have to click start to stop Windows XP?

Why lemon juice is made with artificial flavor, while dishwashing liquid is made with real lemons?

Why the man who invests all your money is called a "Broker"?

Why there isn't mouse flavored cat food?

Who tastes dog food when it has a "new & improved" flavor?

Why Noah didn't swat those two mosquitoes?

Why they sterilize the needle for lethal injections?

Why they don't make the whole plane out of the material used for the indestructible black box?

Why sheep don't shrink when it rains?

Why they are called apartments when they are all stuck together?

If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of progress?

Why they call the airport "the terminal" if flying is so safe?


In case you need further proof that the human race is doomed because of stupidity, here are some actual label instructions on consumer goods.

On a Myer hairdryer: "Do not use while sleeping". (Darn, and that's the only time I have to work on my hair).

On a bag of Chips: You could be a winner! No purchase necessary. Details inside. (The shoplifter special?)

On a bar of Palmolive soap: "Directions: Use like regular soap". (And that would be how???)

On some frozen dinners: "Serving suggestion: Defrost". (But, it's just a suggestion).

On Nanna's Tiramisu dessert (printed on bottom): "Do not turn upside down". (Well...duh, a bit late, huh)!

On Marks & Spencer Bread Pudding: "Product will be hot after heating". (And you thought????...)

On packaging for a K-Mart iron: "Do not iron clothes on body". (But wouldn't this save me more time?)

On Boot's Children Cough Medicine: "Do not drive a car or operate machinery after taking this medication". (We could do a lot to reduce the rate of construction accidents if we could just get those 5 year olds with head colds off those forklifts.)

On Nytol Sleep Aid: "Warning: May cause drowsiness". (And...I'm taking this because???)

On most brands of Christmas lights: "For indoor or outdoor use only". (As opposed to...what?)

On a Japanese food processor: "Not to be used for the other use". (Now, somebody out there, help me on this. I'm a bit curious.)

On Nobby's peanuts: "Warning: contains nuts". (Talk about a news flash!)

On an American Airlines packet of nuts: "Instructions: Open packet, eat nuts".

I don't blame the company, I blame the parents for this one:

On a child's superman costume: "Wearing of this garment does not enable you to fly".

On a Swedish chainsaw: "Do not attempt to stop chain with your hands or genitals". (Was there a lot of this happening somewhere?)


Now as for the many stories of adventures from the weekend, I'm in the process of writing a detailed account of as much hillarity as I can remember, which I will post on my personal blog space - will let you guys know when its posted and ready for your critical eyes.

While you wait for that, you may like to check this out ;)
Click Here. (Turn up speakers first...)
Signing off, for now, - Miss ~K~ xx.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

An Open Letter to Mother Nature

Dear Ms Nature

Firstly, allow me to thank you. For millions of years (or thousands, if your religious views swing that way) you have provided us with the rain needed to grow crops, the sun needed to keep us warm and alive, the trees, wildlife, grass, oceans, sunsets, sunrises, and a whole manner of other ecological and meteorological wonders. You have sustained the human race from evolutionary infancy to the dominant powerhouses we are today. We owe our entire existence to you, and for that you have people who bow down and worship you (and by bow down of course I mean dress in bright flowing colours and dance around playing the tambourine), while the rest of us just appreciate the natural beauty you have provided.

In light of this, I have but one question. Why do you hate us so much, you fucking bitch? You give us mild summers, freezing cold winters, and do not get me started on Septembers. Seriously, what is up with it being freezing fucking cold one day and sun out shining brightly the next? You make everyone sick (literally) with your inability to make up your damned mind about what you want to do today, and as soon as you settle on the idea (which is usually overcast and humid with a forcast of SUDDEN DEATH, everyone is so used to your randomness that they get sick again! Have you abandoned us? Or were the past couple million years one huge ploy to gain our trust before stabbing us in the back for laughs? Are you evil? Are you Satan? Either way it proves that you have been a wolf in sheeps clothing all the time. But I have discovered you, Mo- I have found out the truth and now I lay the facts out bare for the entire world to see. I know now that our eco system is sustained by a sadist so evil, you make Darth Vader look like a schoolyard bully. You make Hitler look like that one seagull that always snatches the hot chips from the mouth of the smaller ones you are trying to feed. You are nothing more than a bored kid out in the sun with magnifying glass, laughing maniacally as you burn ant after ant after poor innocent fucking ant.

I have a theory as to why you are like this. Paganism has died out, and neopaganism sucks. You want more worshippers, for you are a megalomaniacal attention-whore. But you are also an imamterial, intangible, and otherwise passive individual, so how does one gather followers when you can't materialise in front of them? Through acts of kindness and trust? No. The answer is FEAR. The message you are trying to broadcast is "WORSHIP ME OR I WILL THROW DROUGHT, FLASH FLOODING, EARTHQUAKES, MASS EXTINCTIONS, AND VOLOCANO ERUPTIONS IN YOUR FACES! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!". The thing is, Mo, us humans for the most part, don't want to worship you. We are battlers, and get through anything you throw at us. And now that the truth has been lain bare, we can resist. The purpose of this open letter is to declare war on nature. A war that we shall fight to the last man (and woman). A war that shall liberate our planet from your tyranny at all costs. A war that may last generations, but all the sacrifice shall be more than made up for in our total and complete VICTORY! So heed this warning, Ms Nature, gather what troops you have, and meet us behind the bike shed at recess.

Sincerely Yours
The General
Faceless and Secret Leader of The Resistance

DISCLAIMER: This is NOT a political, environmental, or religious message. The bitch nearly destroyed my party, and I am out for blood.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

ADHD, Blondes and Drugs... and the occasional octopus...

Dear Disciples of the religion that is Arsenic and Jubilation,

I must apologize for my lack of attentiveness over the last few moons, for I am having an affair. I have decided not to keep it a secret any longer. I promised myself I was going to stop it after the first time it happened, but alas, I couldn't overcome the urges.

I have a thing for blondes.

And its really difficult to keep my hands off them when there always seems to be different ones in my house. Sometimes they come with people, and other times I'm not sure how they get here and I will also admit to having brought them home on more than one occasion.

Quite often I take them straight to my room, without wasting time in the kitchen or showing them around, straight down to my room where I consume them. Sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, enjoying their divine flavor.

Blondes are better than reds, and I think they are wetter too. Nothing like a nice wet blonde. Mmmm.

After a hard day at work, its a very fine thing to be able to come home, pop a blonde, exposing the perfectly formed bottleneck... Oh my, you didn't realize I was talking about beer did you?

I can't believe I'm cheating on Jack with Beer, but being the student that I am, I cannot afford Mr. D's prices, especially not now that I'm heading out every other evening. Hopefully he will forgive me... if not, there will always be another blonde waiting in the wings... or at the bottle shop as the case may be.

In other news, I have come to the magnificent conclusion that someone who works at Metro, putting up posters on the bus, has a wickedly awesome sense of humor, or, just happened to accidentally provide me with what I have esteemed to be one of the funniest things I've had the honor of witnessing in 2007.

The front few seats on our buses all have stickers, which isn't unusual, suggesting that people please vacate those seats for elderly or disabled passengers. Which is fine. I have no problems with that. Nor did I laugh. But what did make me literally lol, was a poster on the wall of the bus above those seats which read;

"Please leave this seat free for potential organ donors"...(then in really really tiny print, which no one would be able to read, it goes on to say "well, actually, you can sit here, because anyone can be an organ donor..."

Now really, if you're not at least smiling about this by now, I'd be surprised.

Most elderly people can't read fine print, and I'm quite tempted to point the sign out to one of them who is sitting beneath it as soon as I get the chance. I think it would be quite humorous - I'm sure we've all had the pleasure of experiencing a slightly disgruntled elderly person before.

Sticking with the public transport stories, we move from Esmae the slightly disgruntled old bat, to my home towns very own 'Clive' 'the slightly too loud commuter'. Except our version doesn't talk on his mobile phone about the possible STIs he has, instead he will talk to the nearest unsuspecting passenger about his lack of recent sexual encounters and how 'fired up' and 'ready to go' he is, should he find a 'wanting lady'. Just between you and me, I don't think he will find a 'wanting lady' any time soon - but then again, stranger things have happened.

Speaking of strange things and sex, an interesting topic came up while chatting with a mate of mine a few nights ago. He added a new term to my vocabulary (which is quite odd, considering how extensive my sexual vocabulary is these days). The new term is "Starfishing" and it refers to the bottom partner during missionary type positions, when they just lay there and take it.

As it turns out, many of my male friends have complained to me of this very thing with their girlfriends, but they had not been referring to it as "starfishing" but I will edumacate them, for I think its an awesome term and hereby give serious kudos to its creator.

I also made the comment, "if lying there and doing nothing is starfishing, then I'm an octopus with ADHD who forgot to take her ritalin"... But I'll leave deciphering that one to your highly capable imaginations..

Until tomorrow, this is your ADHD octopus off in search of ritalin, or adventure ;)

- Miss ~K~ xx.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

*trips and falls into the limelight*

Many apologies for the late update folks, my attention was focused on conquering the universe, which is proving surprisingly easy! Well that, and the fact that assignments and work are the bane of us all.

I spent the first half of this year working an internship I hated, and was lucky enough to be done with it by the end of may. Now I have to recount the horror and dread in a report explaining what I learned. Here is what I learnt: That working in the taxi industry sucks, that working in a place where you are the only native English speaker sucks, that dealing with dodgy taxi drivers day in and day out sucks, and that getting paid under minimum wage [while not even being on the books]... you guessed it... fucking blows. The agreed conclusion to this 6 months in hell between Miss K and I was that:

In summary, I conclude that songtec are clearly using their technology to deliver subliminal messages to the monkeys of the world. These monkeys are gathering in extreme forces and will eventually become terrorist ninja monkeys using the intarnets guide i found on how to be a ninja, and some bomb making sites. My recommendation is that Australia gets new security as The Chaser boys proved we need it. The end. That will surely get me a pass! :-)

How awesome and ballsy are the Chaser boys, with not one, not two, but THREE awesome OPEC (uhhh sorry Austrians, I mean't APEC) pranks! Kudos to the guys who risked their liberty to give us entertainment and I am certainly looking forward to this weeks show!

It is interesting to note that the Chaser's roots go way back to the Crusades, when 5 knaves of the realm continually exploited weaknesses in King Richards security arrangements... sneaking pagans in through the fence to moon the royal court, pretending to summon demons in front ofhis generals for fun, not to mention having a team of artists to capture all the hilarity on high definition canvas, and thespians ready to provide a dramatic representation in the ampitheatre every Wednesday at 9pm sharp. These shennanigans henceforth evolved into the powerhouse that is the Chaser, and as you can see, not much has changed!

Alas, I must dive deep into the bowels of the laundry downstairs to retrieve mine work uniform and go bring home the bacon as it were. Tune in next week when I provide a pictorial account of the history of the Universe! ....maybe