23 Sept – Mixtape

If you had to make a mixtape of sad songs for someone, what would you include?

This is actaully quite simple because I have a series of playlists in iTunes for different emotional states.

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Daily Prompt: Hear No Evil

Tell us about a conversation you couldn’t help but overhear and wish you hadn’t.

If you’re like me, and you catch the People’s Chariot a.k.a. public transport, then you’re destined to be subjected to some pretty horrible conversations. Basically, these people:

y’know… THOSE people. The people who have no consideration for their surroundings or the people therein. The people who feel the need to talk loudly enough so a whole train carriage can hear their conversation. The people who also feel compelled to carry out conversations that nobody with the sense of hearing needs to hear. Ever.

I have myself some pretty awesome earphones. They drown out all the noise around me so all I hear is my music. It’s absolute BLISS. However, there have been countless times, I’ve been able to hear conversations over the top of my music. Which makes me feel incredibly sorry for everybody else who isn’t currently listening to music.

This one particular evening, I was on the train home from the city, and it was about 9:30pm. I had finished my second job and was met with some train delays due to track work.
*groan*
So I hang around waiting for the next train, which then takes us to another station, where we need to change trains in order to get back home. And then we’re faced with another delay
*groan*
The worst part was that the whole time we were waiting at the station, this moll was having one of the loudest conversations humanly possible. You know those times when you’re on a call to somebody and it starts to drop out, so you START TO TALK REALLY LOUDLY JUST TO MAKE SURE THAT THEY CAN STILL HEAR YOU?? WELL SHE WAS HAVING HER CONVERSATION PRETTY MUCH LIKE THIS THE WHOLE TIME. NATURALLY, AFTER THE FIRST TEN TO FIFTEEN SECONDS IT WOULD GET PRETTY ANNOYING, BUT SHE JUST WOULDN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP, AND THEN IT TOOK A TURN SOUTH…
After being asked by several people on the platform to basically either shut up, or move away from the rest of us, she wandered off to the very end of the platform. But then came back when the train turned up.
The trip to the station where we had to change trains was more or less:
…YEAH BUT THEN THAT FUCKING MOLL ASKED WHERE SHANE WAS AND SHE WAS GIVING ME THIS FUCKIN’ LOOK, RIGHT, AND SO I’VE TURNED TO HER AND I’M, LIKE, ‘OI, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOUSE LOOKIN’ AT, YA DIRTY CUNT?!’…. YEAH, OF COURSE I FUCKIN’ DID! …WELL WHO THE FUCK DOES SHE FUCKIN’ THINK SHE IS, FUCKIN’ FAT CUNT!! …NAH …NAH …OHHH YEAHHH, NAH. …NAH, I CAN’T STAND ‘ER. SHE’S A FUCKIN’ MOLL. NAH, LIKE, I TOLD HER NOT TO GO ROOTIN’ AROUND WITH DAZZA’S BRUVVA, SO OF COURSE SHE FUCKIN’ DID. OHHHH YEAHHH, YEAH, SO THEN DAZZA’S BRUVVA TELLS DAZZA, AND HE TELLS ME, AND I’M FUCKIN’ READY TO SNAP THE BITCH!! WELL, YEAH, COZ I WAS SHAGGIN’ DAZZA’S BRUVVA BEFORE I LEFT HIM FOR DAZZA!! NAH, HE’S GOT BETTER TATTS. …OH FUCK NO! …NAH HE’S GOT A MASSIVE KNOB …FUCKIN’ OATH!! YEAH, LIKE, IT NEARLY SPLIT MI CUNT IN HALF… NAH I WAS TOO SCARED …NAH, MADE HIM GROWL ME OUT TO GET ME WET. OHHH FUCKIN’ HOURS!!
‘growl me out’. Wow. what a classy lady. She also happened to look something like this:
Did you know there's a place called Mullet Junky? Neither did I!! Now you do...

Pure class. All the way.

Quick show of hands those of you feeling a tad nauseous right now…?! Yeah, I thought so.

SO, this continued, and got more and more explicit as time began to drag on ever so slowly, and ever so painfully. Like fingernails on a chalkboard, it was driving people crazy. Some people were stopping their conversations to listen to it, and then having a little giggle. A couple of people whipped out their phones to record this sideshow. She, however, was completely oblivious to everything. I figure, the way her conversation rapidly turned south, her spare hand would have done so as well, to go foraging through some kind of damp forest for some bean-flicking fun… well, had it not been for the constant cigarette in her free hand.

I felt dirty just being near her.

Our second train finally turned up and we boarded the train. Rather than just being content with her seat, she managed to change seats at least six or seven times before we had even gotten to the next station. I was in the next carriage and could see all this happening, whilst something by P!NK was pumping through my earphones.

Suddenly, a ticket inspector appeared in front of me, and I looked up, and showed them my card, and they went to the next person across from me. I then pointed out ol’ crazy face in the next carriage, and then he, and another 5 of his backup bitches went to the next carriage. Although I couldn’t hear it, I saw a lot of them gesturing for her to calm down, before they had to start defending themselves from her wild and violent arm swings. They finally got her settled, and called for police, and escorted her off the train at the next station.

I still felt compelled to scrub the filth off my skin as soon as I got home.

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Daily Prompt: Inside the Actor’s Studio

On the interview show Inside the Actors’ Studio, host James Lipton asks each of his guests the same ten questions. What are your responses?

What is your favourite word?

Moll. As in ‘She’s SUCH a moll.’ It’s not a nice word, but it’s a funny word. I find something quite Australian and bogan about it. Sometimes I like to preface it – fucking moll / stupid moll etc. Even then, I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s my favourite word, it’s just a word that I tend to use quite a lot. *sigh* me and my potty-mouth. But we’ll get to that in a little bit…

What is your least favourite word?

Faggot.

– n

  1. A bundle of sticks or twigs, esp when bound together and used as fuel
  2. A bundle of iron bars, esp from a box formed by four pieces of wrought iron and filled with scrap to be forged into wrought iron
  3. A ball of chopped meat, usually pork liver, bound with herbs and bread and eaten fried
  4. A bundle of anything

 I’m not entirely sure at what point this word became a derogatory term for those of us who are so unbelievably fabulous.  But seriously, how does something with that definition become a slang term that’s full of hate?

Growing up, this was a term that I heard constantly. And I’m talking constantly!! I think I bore the worst of it during high-school, when I would just be walking up the hill and a car would drive past and some dickhead would wind their window down and shout it out to me. Of course this would always happen when I was surrounded by other people, and they’d all chuckle away to themselves… and then I’d stop, take a breath and continue up the hill to school…

…secretly hoping that that car would suddenly explode, or get hit by a truck and they would die a horrible, slow, painful death. And then as they’re calling out to me for help, I’d just ignore them and continue on to school.

What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?

What a strange question! I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the usage of the phrase ‘turns you on’ in this context as it seems a bit disjointed to me, but I’ll see how I go. 

I think that there are a large variety of things that can fuel my creativity / spiritual awareness / emotions. In terms of creativity, it can be broken down to smaller sub-sections ie, dance, writing, etc. My favourite moment in terms of dance creativity is doing an actual dance class. Not necessarily the classes or the style that I teach, but other people’s classes. I love the feeling, that rush that I get when I go to an open dance class and learn a challenging, but awesome hip-hop / house routine. On the flip side, it could even be something as simple as performing a very simple contemporary routine, and fully immersing myself in the movement and the music, and dancing with nothing but pure passion and raw emotion… even that can (and has) lead me to getting so emotionally worked up, it’s almost lead me to tears. Not because the music makes me sad or anything, but because there’s such an overwhelming rush of so many different emotions, and I don’t really know how to process them all at once.

Emotionally, I can be a bit of a wreck. Admittedly, I keep a lot of my emotions bottled up. We’re talking A LOT!! Friends of mine may see my rants that I post on facebook, or listen to me harp on about something that pisses me off, but that’s merely scratching the surface. I sometimes find myself yelling at the TV during a show or a movie when the character does something really stupid.

I’ve also found myself at times being somewhere peaceful and then being flooded by emotion, and breaking down into an unattractive blubbering mess, sometimes without any actual understanding of why I’m even crying in the first place. I guess I just have a lot of feelings.

What turns you off?

How long have I got to answer this? Maybe I should keep it short and sharp:

  • Rotten teeth and / or terrible breath
  • Smokers
  • Drug addicts
  • People who use religion to spill their hate to the world
  • Bullies
  • People who are so full of themselves / arrogant / ‘God’ complex
  • Poor hygiene
  • Complete lack of common sense

What is your favourite curse word?

Fucktard.

It’s the perfect way to describe somebody. Oh my god, I love that word. It’s reached a point that even amongst my circle of friends, if they hear / read that word, they instantly think of me. It’s a great marketing ploy, but, just the wrong kind of marketing.

Apart from that, generally, I swear a lot. No, really, a lot!! Sometimes to the point where I don’t even know that I’m doing it, and I have to consciously think about monitoring my sentences. I’m waiting for the day that I go to put a phone call on hold at work whilst I grumble ‘you have GOT to be fucking kidding me’, but don’t actually put them on hold, and they hear what I say. I think that’s the one thing that truly terrifies me.

What sound or noise do you love?

The sound of waves crashing on the beach. The sound of rain (when I’m inside and not stuck out there getting drenched). 

What sound or noise do you hate?

Crying babies. Jackhammers (especially at 6am). And, like, when, like, teenage girls, like, talk to, like, each other, like, and then everything? like, they say? Like, sounds, like, a question? It makes me want to punch them in the throat to make the pain stop.

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?

I’d like to be a massage therapist – I have good hands, apparently. When I was at dance school, I used to get massages quite regularly, and I quickly learnt (through observation) what I enjoy, what’s painful, and just basic technique. When we would have a break at school, one of the girls would ask if I could rub her shoulders, and it spread like wildfire. Even now at work, people tend to just plonk themselves in my chair and wait for me to return so I can give them a quick shoulder rub.

However, I have this feeling that if I actually learnt it properly and did a couple of courses, I’d grow to hate it.

I wish I could give Hulk massages, but he can’t handle any kind of pressure. He’s far too sensitive. So it’s a talent that’s just wasting away. If you want a massage, my number is 0418…. hehehe.

When I was younger all I ever wanted to be was a backup dancer for Janet Jackson. *sigh* Oh, but to dream…

Another job I’d love to do is something in fashion. Watching the past 12 seasons of Project Runway, I want to go work at a fashion house. I’m enough of a bitch, so I figure I’d be a natural. *lol*

I’d also love to work for a recording artist, like P!nk, or Gaga etc, but work on their world tours in some capacity. Work, travel and all whilst being paid. Easy.

What profession would you not like to do?

Work for a government agency like Centrelink, Housing Commission etc. Generally speaking, I can’t stand people at the best of times, let alone those people. It’s bad enough having to share a building with the Housing Commission here, and all these drug addicts coming into our office (on the ground floor) and mumbling / slurring the words ‘izzthisth’secon’floororsummin’?’

…7 years of that now makes me want to just jump the desk and punch them in the face screaming DOES THIS LOOK LIKE THE SECOND FUCKING FLOOR?!? HUH?!? HOW MANY FLIGHTS OF STAIRS DID YOU WALK UP!?!? Move along, coke whore.

If Heaven exists, what would you like expect to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

I think you’re lost.

 

 

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