The Bucklesisms Blog

My sister Buckles is a unique bish whom I love dearly. She is also a skankus and she does things that only a skankus-bish would do. These are called Bucklesisms. They are probably a bunch of "you had to be there moments", but here is a list of some of my favourite Bucklesisms:

Buckles loves to shop
It's in her genes. She gets a crazy burst of energy at the prospect of shopping and buys stuff for the sake of buying stuff. If you're out shopping with Buckles you'll need roller skates to keep up because she hits her turbo button and you need the speed of Kathy Freeman to keep up. An example of this is when we were in Hawaii. We had just awoken from a long nap and decided to head out on the town. We rode the elevator to the ground floor and I headed for the exit. I turned and realised Buckles hadn't followed, but I managed to see the back of her blur speedily into the hotel gift shop. I caught up with her and she had a wide shopping grin on her face and wound up buying a spiffy hat that I saw her wear for about two days after that. We hadn't even made it out of the hotel before she was buying shit.

Buckles likes to cut her own hair
One time Buckles decided her fringe was too long. She grabbed a pair of scissors and sat on the couch opposite me. I almost told her not to cut it too short because they always bounce up, but I didn't because I figured she probably knew that already and didn't want me preaching at her. Two seconds later, Buckles' new spike (because it was far too short for a fringe) sat across her forehead and Buckles gazed aghast into her hand mirror. I, of course, heartily laughed telling her I thought she knew not to cut it too short. She replied, "You should have said something!" I guess this is a lesson we must all learn the hard way.

There was also the time that Buckles thought it'd be a great idea to shave her head. I followed her into the bathroom (with a camera) where she had draped a towel across her shoulders and held a pair of scissors in her hand. "Do you want me to shave your head with the clippers when you've finished chopping?" I politely inquired.  I don't remember a reply, only a nervous gulp as Buckles took the plunge and lopped off a massive chuck of hair from the side of her head. I snapped a photo (but won't embarrass her by posting it here) of her horrified face and my hideous contorted in laughter face, and I knew she immediately regretted it. Mum spent the rest of the night trying to find a style that would cover the spiky hair poking out from the side of her head. hahahahah Bucklesism.

Drunk Buckles
Oh the stories I could tell... but, I will narrow them down to this: Last year Buckles came with me to see Crashdiet play. In Melbourne we got separated in the rowdy crowd. After the show, I lumbered around after being thrown around and bashed down the front to find her. She was sipping from a jug of beer up the back and she was a good way through it, too.

Then there was the time mum and I are chatting quietly in the loungeroom one night when we hear a banging and keys jingling at the front door. Buckles burst through talking to herself. She drops her keys and bends to pick them up - still talking jibberish - and realises it's too much effort to try and stand up again, so she crawls across the floor on her hands and knees to the dining room where she uses the table to get back on her feet. She drops her keys on the table but they fall on the floor again and she jibber jabbers off down the hall.

Buckles gets great ideas, then loses interest
Buckles decided to get healthy and go on a diet. "I'm going on a diet!" She proclaimed loudly one day. "I need to get healthy." She gets on the Google and looks up a diet that suits her purposes and goes off to buy a bunch of food, including: a heap of fruit, vegetables and some steak. She tells everyone that breakfast tomorrow will consist of grapefruit and coffee and she was very enthused about finally getting healthy. The next morning Buckles slices her grapefruit, makes her coffee, gets comfortable on the couch and takes a bite. Her face contorts in disgust as she looks at the half chewed chunk of grapefruit that now sat back on the plate as though it just informed her she would never be able to shop again. She declares it the most vile thing she has ever put in her mouth and that was the end of her diet. It lasted 30 seconds.

Buckles likes to bump her head.
It has become so frequent that when she says she's bumped her head, we roll our eyes and say, "again?!" In Hawaii, we did a tour where we were driven around in a huge van. Buckles gets in and bumps her head. Not just a little bit, but nice and hard. She whinged about her sore head for ages while I suppressed an urge to laugh. We get out and do our tour and get back in the van to go leave. Buckles bumps her head again, loudly this time. "OW!" She yells and the funny Hawaiian drivers turns around and says, "that's two time you do that!" He doesn't know the half of it.

Buckles likes to laugh at other people's misfortunes, but don't you laugh at hers...
 It's true. If you make the mistake of tripping over, bumping your own head or even singing badly to Van Halen songs in the Skydive caravan/office when you think no one else is in there in front of her, she will laugh until her sides hurt. This is very unfair, because she can get a bit cranky if you return the favour. Like the time we were walking the dogs one day. She forged on ahead of me and I noticed a giant rip in the back of her pants. I laughed my arse off and gleefully informed her of this. She got cranky about her pants splitting, but not as cranky as she was with me for delighting in it so much. I was on the receiving end of her "attitude face" for a while after that.

That might be enough for now. There are many, many more Bucklesisms, but I'll save them for part two.

Love you, skankus!

How christianity fucked with my head.

This is an account of my experience and perceptions and not an attack on christians or christianity. I'm not blaming them or it for anything bad that happened in my life, it was an experience and I learned from it.

When I was about 10 a lot of bad stuff happened. My parents separated, we changed schools a lot, bad stuff happened there, my dad became a christian and my mother was an adulterous harlot bound for hell unless she repented and I began having bouts of "bronchitis" which were later diagnosed as acute asthma attacks. It was a tumultuous and confusing time.

The phrase "just because it's different doesn't mean it's wrong" didn't seem to apply to christians. You're either wrong or right and you're either going to hell or heaven. The only way into heaven, as my understanding was, was to ask Jesus into your heart. It was simple enough to do this, and I pretended to on many occasions but I couldn't do it. All one had to do was pray to Jesus and ask him to come into your heart and guide you on the right path into heaven and obey the 10 commandments. (I'm not capitalising "god" because I don't think 'he' deserves it. It's an act of rebellion on my part and I'll probably end up in hell for it.) Christians giving their testimonies about how they found god reported the light and peace of Jesus filling them. They also felt his presence in their mind.

Christians consider it their godly mission to spread god's word to everyone. Many evangelists travelled to backwater developing countries to prey on - er, sorry, to preach to and help - those in need and convert them to christianity. So insidious is the nature of this religion that every non-christian is wrong and they are going to hell. The devil will make them his plaything, even christians partaking in demonic activities were going to hell unless they immediately ask god or Jesus or whoever the heck you're supposed to pray to for forgiveness. Spread god's word and you will be saved. But not even that assures your place in heaven. Nothing does as it up to god's discretion to admit whomever he pleases in the end, and no mere human can hope to presume how he thinks. Evidently our puny brains couldn't comprehend his wisdom, anyhow.

I bought right into it. I was an impressionable 10-11 year old and was so glad dad had brought god into our lives. We were saved from the fiery pits of hell! Although, as kids, we were automatically admitted into heaven. But sitting on the cusp of childhood, I wondered if I was still heaven-bound because I knew right from wrong. I hoped Jesus would come back before I got too old and had to account for my actions. God forbid!

I encountered many different types of christians. There were those who were pretty normal, they just wanted to live good lives and hang out with their churchy friends. There were those who were super happy. They felt god's presence in their lives and joyfully spread his word to anyone who'd listen, and those that didn't needed their mind's opened to receiving god's word. Then there were the super-spiro types. the ones that took it far too seriously, most of them came from or entered into mental institutions - no joke. Some of them were convinced god spoke to and worked directly through them. They were personally chosen by him to heal the sick, spread the word, deliver demons out of people and save people's souls. They heard his voice and possessed his power. These people scared the shit out of me. They had that crazed look in their eye. They never looked at you, they looked through you and you never knew what they were going to do.

One of these super-spiros took me aside after church one day and silently held my arm for a long while. There was no one around and I was freaking out. I thought he could read my mind and would tell me my thoughts were evil. After a few moments he eventually told me that all the bad stuff that had happened, the sickness, my mother's evil, adulterous ways and whatever else was god punishing me for being evil. I was confused. I thought as a kid I was exempt from evilness. But he was filled with god's power, so I accepted it. He went on to tell me god would stop punishing me when I had shown my mother the light, because she was on the path to hell. I believed him and I was terrified for both of us. I didn't want her to go to hell and I especially didn't want her going to hell because I hadn't tried hard enough to set her on the path to salvation!

Mum wasn't interested in my preaching at her. She blithely told me she didn't believe in god in that way. She believed in demonic things such as reincarnation and often indulged in the demonic practices of meditations and tarot cards. My own grandmother was an evil clairvoyant - how on earth was I going to get all these people into heaven?

There were many demonic things I had to renounce to ensure my own salvation. I had to hand over all my beloved books containing anything with magical themes - my cherished copy of Roald Dahl's Matilda being one of them. Anything magical was demonic (I smirk now at christian discourse on the evils of the Harry Potter books and I delighted in the fact I actually enjoyed them when I got around to reading them), and one of my biggest conundrums was not committing the sin of lying because I kept telling people I had actually asked Jesus in my heart when I never actually did. I prayed for forgiveness about it many times, because not only was I lying about it, I hadn't asked Jesus into my heart in the first place. Was I doubly doomed? Did Jesus hate me? Maybe I was still safe in the kidzone, if only I could save my mother from hell then I'd be set.

I fretted so much over Jesus' return to take the faithful 'home' to heaven. According to Sunday school teachers and other christians everywhere, we were in the end times and his return would be soon. Although nobody could presume to know god's will and could therefore never know exactly when this would happen. I hoped his return would be soon, so I might be safe from asking him into my heart while I was still a kid, but not before I'd saved my mother from hell. Why did I not just asked him into my heart and get it over with? I was scared to death about having his presence in my mind and having his light in my heart, but most of all I was terrified I was beyond saving and he wouldn't accept me as one of his own. After all, god saw fit to punish me so, I must've been pretty bad.

All this conflicted greatly with the Bible verse - I forget which one - about god being love. "Those who don't know god, cannot know love for god is love" or some such.

God also likes to test his followers. One of the tests I'd hear the adults talking about was demonic manifestations. It was also a good opportunity for the devil to lure a person back to the dark side. These manifestations, as I understood, were demons manifesting to the loyal christian to test their ability to cast demons out in Jesus' name. Demons can't bear to hear the lord's name and would therefore flee in fear at the mere mention of it. I remember hearing dad talk about his experience where a demon appeared on his bed one night. He cast it out in Jesus name and it scarpered away. It frightened the hell out of me to think there was a demon in the house! What if I saw one and I didn't say Jesus' name with enough conviction to cast it out? Would I become possessed? Holy hell, I was doomed.

When I was about 11, I asked my dad when he thought Jesus would return. He gave me the spiel about no one knowing god's will, but predicted it to be about another 10 years. I freaked out, I'd be an adult by then, better ask Jesus into my heart soon, time was running out. It's now been 20 years and counting...

To me, christianity was a very fear-based religion. Abide god's will OR ELSE. God would punish you, maybe even smite you and you'd end up in hell along with all those you failed to save. But as long as you tried your best, right? I didn't get the impression that was how it worked.

It wasn't until my teens that I began to question the validity of all these godly claims. How were all these evil non-christians nonchalantly getting on with their lives? It didn't look to me as though god was punishing them. They didn't seem to be living in fear of going to hell or seeing demons on their beds in the middle of the night. Some of them even appeared to be living happy, content lives. Was god leading them into a false sense of security? When I looked around I saw more unhappy christians than non christians. Christians did a lot of things non christians did, i.e. smoking, pre-marital sex etc but they did it with a side of guilt.

I began asking questions. My big one of the time was, "If god is all-knowing and powerful, shouldn't he have known that humans would be evil when he gave us all free will?" The answer I mostly received was "we can't know god's will" or the real clanger to answer any difficult question, "god works in mysterious ways." To me the Tower of Babel story made god sound like a vindictive prick. But that was an old testament story and shouldn't be paid much attention. I never did understand why we should pay more attention to the new testament. Why even bother with the old one? The ten commandments to which we all must abide are in the old testament...

 From year five to year 9 I was enroled in a christian school. Which was great compared to the crap school I came from. Days at this school began with doctrine - a passage of the bible read and talked about and a prayer. Lessons were given with a christian slant. I can remember one particular doctrine lesson teaching us the J.O.Y principle. If we lived by it we would be happy. We only had to consider Jesus first - what would Jesus do? Then we had to consider Others before we considered You (ourselves). I spent a lot of time wondering what Jesus would do about trivial things, such as deciding what to wear to church.

At about 14 or 15 I started experimenting. I would swear to see what would happen. I'd tell a small white lie. I'd read a book about magical things or ask mum about reincarnation and guess what? Nothing happened. Life went on as normal. I didn't get punished. God didn't send a lightning bolt from the heavens to smite me. Eventually I stopped feeling guilty for questioning god's will and life still goes on.

Today, I don't believe in a christian god. If there was a such an all-powerful being I tend to think it would have better things to do than watch over earth and all its humans. God supposedly endowed us with free will, yet wants to punish anyone who uses it? How does that work.. oops. don't ask questions because god works in mysterious ways.

I don't blame people who buy into it. I actually think the community of christianity is its strongest point. It helps people and some people need it, it gives people purpose and who am I to question that? I accept that they feel it's their duty to spread god's word hither and thither. I've heard god's word and I didn't care for it. Judge me all you want, but remember: "judge not lest ye be judged".

Bleuighhhglwsidfgjns

When I was an angsty teenager, I wrote a poem that went something like, 

"The aliens have landed inside of my head.
Nothing can be done and nothing can be said."

I still have no idea what it means, but when my head fills up with crap, that phrase floats around my thoughts like a banner on the back of a aeroplane.

My head is once again full of crap, so I thought I'd unload some of it before filling it up again - it's also a good way for me to procrastinate.

Well, I have been a little bit busy lately. I whinged and complained to anyone who'd listen about needing some more work and I got it. Be careful what you wish for, folks, you just might get it. 

It's physical, which I like, but it gives me far too much time to think. The other day I was painting pointless beams that run from a garage to a house and do absolutely nothing and getting cranky at the homeowner's obsession with prickly creeping vines, when all the bad things that have ever happened to me bombarded my brain.

I got angry and upset before my self-esteem plummeted. It was so random, I have no idea what triggered it, but by the end of it I was convinced I was a fugly and stupid waste of oxygen. Then, as I was driving home, cars kept flashing their headlights at me to warm me of a sneaky cop speed trap and then the random 'waaah-waaah' session evaporated and I felt normal again. It was like the random light-flashers cared enough about me to warm me and that seemed to make everything OK. Even though I was nothing to them.

I've been getting constant headaches lately, as well. I'm not sure if they are due to my shitty computer posture, too much time in the sun or the fact my mop of hair has reached that stage of unmanagability where it sits heavy on my head when I pull it back. Haircut this week, fo' sho'.

I am UBER excited about my trip. Only 62 days! Everything is booked and paid for except for some day tours I might do in between my tours.

I've gone through my tour itineraries so many times they're becoming dog-eared, but I can't help it. It will be really interesting to see if the world does end on the 22nd December, because I'll be over there where the whole "2012" thing started. To be exact, on the 22nd December I'll be in Colca-Canyon in Peru. Which is more an Incan locale than a Mayan one, but close enough.

On Christmas day I'll be in a place called "Puno". We will be one a homestay where we stay overnight on an island called "Amantani". The itinerary warns us of the very basic living conditions we'll experience; periodic electricity and bathroom facilities that are supposedly "not the best". 

New years eve will be spent on third day of the Inca Trek. Apparently I'll be walking 15kms at 2450m above sea level, which means new years day will be spent at Machu Picchu. I am so excited to be bringing in the new year (if the world hasn't ended) at Machu Picchu. Sure beats what I did last Christmas and new year. Last Christmas was spent lying around on the couch with a mad hangover and new years I laid around on the couch with Nugget and a book about Incan ruins, as it happens.

But before all that happens I have to get through my final two uni subjects. I hate them oh so much. They are so full-on. One subject wants us to write weekly articles (only 100 words, but must include interviews) and 100-300 word discussion board posts which must be fully referenced..blah, blah, blah. It's like they want me to use my brain or something.

I have been enjoying re-watching Stargate SG1. It's such a cheesy show full of so many plot holes, but I love the concept. And Richard Dean Anderson.

On top of all this, we adopted a dog called Angus. He's very cute, but it's been a bit of a headache integrating him into our routine and the other dogs' routines. I love my doggies so much and I think Ruby can tell time. If the time has passed walking time Ruby sits and stares at me, just to let me know she knows what time it is and she expects to be walked. Walk time is the highlight of their day. I wish it was the highlight of mine.


Well, I think that's mostly everything off my mind. Maybe I can concentrate on these uni readings now.

Future Planning

I hate planning stuff, especially long-term kind of stuff. I'm at the tail-end of my degree now, so people are asking me what I'm going to do after that. Well, this is my half-thought out plan.

The first thing I'm going to do is go on my trip. Funnily enough, I only realised the other day the day I fly out the exact day my final study period officially ends. I thought there'd be a about a week difference. That means I won't have to rush around trying to get assignments finished early.

 I originally wanted to do my trip earlier this year, but it didn't happen for a number of reasons and I'm glad, because it would have been a rushed job in booking everything and this way I'm taking time to research, book and budget etc.

I'm excited to be going on my own, but there are some things I'm worried about. I'm worried I'll forget something or they won't like the look of me for some reason and they won't let me out of the country, or into Mexico or Peru. I'm worried I won't have enough time to get through customs at LAX to make my connection to Mexico. I'm worried I'll get stuck next to a group of toddlers on the flights over. I'm worried I'll lose my passport, I'm worried my cash card things won't work. I'm worried I'll get robbed or kidnapped or scammed somehow. The tour itinerary warns us to make sure the airport pick-up people are carrying officials Geckos logos because people get scammed and taken off with :|. I'm worried I'll run out of money, I'm worried the tours will be crap, or I'll get food poisoning or I'll accidentally drink the tap water and die.

But mostly I'm looking forward to it. lol. 

I have about four days in between tours to do whatever I want, which gives me time to go to a few little explored places like Coba and Ek Balam and I also want to go parasailing near Tulum in Mexico. But I'm worried about booking day tour things to do them because their websites are either in Spanish or are in poorly translated English. I'm going to the travel agent to sort it, because at least if they're crap I have someone to blame. heh.

So after six weeks (assuming they let me in and out of all these countries), I get back and then I'll have to really get stuck into the job hunt, not only because I'll be broke, but because I have to get out of Gloucester.

Where will I go? What will I do when I get there? Well, my plan is to find a job and go there. Yep, that's it. That's my entire plan. I'm willing to go anywhere but Sydney, but will go there for the right job. What kind of job do I want? Well, that's interesting. Is it possible to not hate your job? I hope so, because I really want to take time to make sure I get one I won't hate. One that pays me enough so that I'm not working just to pay bills. I do have a plan in regard to my dream job, but it's going to be very difficult and I don't want to jinx it so I won't say too much about it until I have something to say about it. :\.

In the meantime, I have to finish off the damn degree first and unluckily, I am not enjoying my final two subjects so far. But there's buttloads of work to do, so back to it, I guess.

It's cool to hate

It's cool to hate stuff, dontcha know? It's become an art form so ingrained in the psyche, that when I read a positive Facebook status someone posted the other day, it took me aback. I realised how rare this positivity phenomenon is. Why? Why do people revel in hating things? Trivial things? I figure mostly it's because it makes them feel superior to everyone who doesn't hate what they hate. Yet, when they do, they have to try and prove they hate it more than everyone else! Does that make sense? It also seems as though it's cool to hate certain things. So I made a list of things it seems it's cool to hate, but I, being the uncool dweeb I am, actually like. 

Facebook: how many times have you seen someone post about how much they hate Facebook on Facebook? They post things like "I hate the changes Facebook keeps making." OR "if anyone else clogs my newsfeed posting about a sporting event/TV show/celebrity death/wedding/Easter/ Christmas  etc. I will delete you." o0o0o0o0o do it, then. Go on, I dare ya! And when these Facebook-addicted Facebook haters are asked why they don't delete their account it's always everyone else's fault. "I can't leave Facebook. Everyone is on here and besides, it's an easy way to keep up to date with my favourite bands." or  "I just hate the commercialism of it all blah blah blah"... so many excuses.

I like Facebook. :o Yes, it's true! Don't hate me because I'm so uncool. I like it because it's a great way to keep in touch with the friends who live all over the place. I like that I can communicate and commiserate with my uni buddies on the Facebook page. I like reading people's boring status updates and I like looking through everyone's 9023429742 holiday or family photos. If you hate the ads on Facebook, install an adblocker. If you hate all the updates about a TV show or whatever, you have many options. Unsubscribe from the people, or, just GET OFF FACEBOOK FOR HALF AN HOUR. You won't die and by the time you come back it will have probably blown over and you can move on to the next thing on your "I hate" list.


Television: How many times have you had someone say to you, "I never watch television"? It's usually said with so much condescension you want to smack them in the nose and install spy cameras in their houses because you know they're lying their arses off. It's like they think they're so much better than everyone who does watch TV because all those people are brain dead halfwits. Well, whatever.

Guess what? I don't mind a bit of the good old idiot box. Admittedly, I mostly watch shows streamed from the net ad-free, but I'll admit to watching Big Brother. And for everyone who says that show is for teenagers with single digit IQs, I'm a full-grown adult with a triple digit IQ. Feel superior to me all you want, but I'm secure enough in myself to admit it and be judged. 

Nickelback: I totally don't understand the vehement hatred toward them. There's a lot worse out there. Chatting to a friend on the phone last night about his intense dislike of them, I can only put it down to the fact that they're just like that inexplicably annoying person who shows up in every social environment and whose mere presence irritates everyone to an irrational extreme.

I hate bands like Matchbox 20 and Foo Fighters much more than Nickelback. In fact, I don't hate Nickelback at all. I've even been to a Nickelback concert - and enjoyed it!

Stupid people:  

 And now it's cool to hate stupid people. I see these stupid people memes everywhere and wonder, "what makes you so friggin' smart?"
These memes really shit me (hey, look at me ironically hating on the haters), because when people post these things, I can automatically think of a few 'stupid' things they have done. I consider myself to be of reasonable intelligence - I'm not an Einstein - but, like most other reasonably intelligent people, I have done a lot of stupid things or made stupid decisions or momentarily forgotten my common sense. That's friggin' normal. As Forrest Gump's mumma said, "stupid is as stupid does."



No one is perfect, not even the people who post these ^. 


There's so much more, but I have to go now.

From the paws of Nugget

Yes, I am Nugget. The cutest - and most toughest - dog you'll ever meet.

I am pretty awesome and I live a pretty awesome life here in the country with my human mum and everyone else. I met my real parents once on the street, they smelled familiar, but I made sure I barked at them just so they knew not to mess with me. I'm quite tough and mean, you know.

I'm a small dog, but what I lack in stature I make up for in noise. Everyone: the neighbours, other dogs, other dog owners and basically the whole town knows my bark and everyone cowers in fear when they hear it.

I'm very smart and understand a lot of human words. The words I like most are: walk, dinner, treat, drive, car, bickies, ... well, you get the idea. My most favourite thing in the world is walk time. If mum hasn't gotten off her butt to take us when it starts getting dark, Ruby, my dog cousin and I make sure to get in her face and breathe our dog breath all over her until she takes us.

Dinner time is good, too, but the word I dislike most is bath. I hate that word and I go into hiding when I hear it. I also hate the word haircut. Mum chases me around and I know I have to give up eventually, but I do it anyway. I don't understand why I need baths, anyway. Especially when the first thing I'm going to do while I'm still damp is jump in the garden and dig a hole to China.

But getting back to my favourite things. I love when mum takes us for runs at the river. She usually lets me run off without a lead on and I can jump in the river to cool off when I want. I'm a bit naughty without my lead on, well, that's what mum says, but I'm really not. I consider it my duty to race over to people and bark at them. They have to know I'm the boss. But it's not funny when I get up nice and close to really let them have it, then realise their dogs are huge horse-like creatures. My barks quickly turn into weird squawks, but mum protects me when I hide behind her legs. 

I sleep wherever I want. Mostly on the couch cushions and people's laps. I spend a lot of my day in front of the big glass doors barking at anyone who dares cross through my line of sight. It's exhausting work, so it's usually followed up by a snooze somewhere comfy.

Something else I don't like is puppies. They freak me out and they don't smell right. Mum protects me from those, as well. Once, out at Rocky Crossing, there was the tiniest puppy trying to smell me and I thought I was going to die. I clambered up mum's legs, but she wouldn't pick me up. Seriously, puppies are just not right. I also hate the ear-piercing beep of the smoke alarm. It scares me and I get shaky and freak out for hours. But I'm not a sook.

I like ducks. I go crazy when I see them. I eat their poo and try to chase them, but my lead only extends so far. One day, ducks, you will be mine. I also like rabbits, but try as I might to cart a carcass home, mum never lets me. Yesterday, however, I got my way and got to eat the most delicious carcass I found at the park. I don't know what it was; it was pretty furry like a mouse so let's go with that, and I ran away with it so mum couldn't take it off me. I shook it about and really wanted to savour it. But mum and Ruby were in the car, so before I jumped in I swallowed it. It was the best treat I've ever had... except maybe for the half a rabbit I found in the backyard one day. But before I jumped in the car, I ran over to where I found the carcass and ate the liver or whatever it was lying beside it. I was so happy. I sat in the car grinning from ear to ear. I was so full from it, I couldn't eat my dinner. Yesterday was a good day. I hope I get my paws on a duck today.

That's all from me for now. I'm going to go back to working on my tan. I love sunny days.

Crap movies I've watched recently.

I'm pretty cranky with the crap movies I've almost sat through recently, wasting my time, so here's a list of them and why they're crap. They'll probably contain spoilers - you've been warned!

Any Questions for Ben?
I gave this one a go because I'd heard a few good things about it and I was bored out of my brain. I should have known better. I tried to watch it despite the fact I knew those windbags, Rob Sitch, Santo Cilauro and the other one wrote it. But it was shit. It went on and on and on and I if I heard Ben complain one more time about how lost he felt in life I was about to lose it. No wonder he was lost, there was no plot! Was this a love story or a 'discovering who I am' movie? Who knows? I gave up with about 20 minutes to go, but quickly flicked to the end to make sure he ended up in Yemen with the chick. When I saw a second of him wondering around Yemen looking lost, I knew how it was going to end. Yawnfest.

The Philadelphia Experiment 2012.
Oh my gods, what a disappointment. The 1984 movie is one of my all-time favourites and stars Michael Pare. Well so did this most recent one, but it was like they shoved him in just because, but his character served no real purpose. The plot was moronic and the acting was even worse. I managed to watch the whole thing, but it was like they treated the audience like five year olds. The energy levels raised by Teslas (lovers of the conspiracy will know Nicola Tesla was involved in the actual real experiment). There were so many ridiculous plot holes and the motivation for the bad guys to destroy the ship didn't make any sense. And why the hell did the idiot survivor jump off the ship in the first place? And why did the idiot cop jump on?? Only to spend the rest of the movie embedded in the ship?? Ridiculous and an embarrassment to the original.

Screamers
Oh dear. Philip K Dick adaptations can sometimes be good, but this was not. I only watched it because I'd just finished watching my favourite series, La Femme Nikita, and I wanted to see some of Roy Dupuis' other work. After the first half hour I was bored. The screamers were robotic things that screamed - making the dogs bark every time they did - underground before eating someone's face off. I think that's what happened. I couldn't finish watching it. The tough guy wasn't very convincing, but I'm pretty sure they all lived happily ever after and the only chick in the movie fell in love with the tough guy. Yawn.

Melancholia
What the fuck was this about? I watched it because I read somewhere it was about a girl with depression and really made you think. There was a strange planet in the sky and it had Alexander Skarsgard in it. Sounds pretty awesome, right? WRONG. Kirsten Dunst played the depressed chick and she was getting married to Alexander Skarsgard, but she fucked some other guy in the garden, so the wedding was over before it begun. Then she laid naked under the glow of the new planet. After that, all that happened was some forlorn staring at the weird planet, some weird predictions and if there was anything else I missed it because I couldn't finish it. Kiefer Sutherland couldn't save this snoozefest. 

Earth 2
Crap acting and a stupid premise. Earth 2 is about some bitch who killed some guy's wife and kid in a car accident, goes to gaol, starts cleaning his house but he doesn't know who she is, I think they fall in love. Then this Earth 2 appears in the sky and turns out to be a replica of Earth. Wow. Then they start talking to their Earth 2 counterparts and that's when I turned it off. What the fuck is all I have to say about this one.

Clash of the Titans 2010
 The only thing I have to say about this is why??????? Why mess with a classic?

Pineapple Express
It wasn't all that recently that I watched this one, but this is the one that clinched my hatred for all things Seth Rogen. Argh. This movie sucked so much arse I don't know where to begin. I only watched the first half before I turned it off. Then I somehow manage to watch the last half when it was on TV. Stupid story, Seth Rogen's laugh is like the sound of fingers rubbing a balloon and makes me jaw feel funny and ... there are just no words for this level of crapness.