What is the most controversial thing you’ve ever written on your blog? What compelled you to write it?
I often find myself holding back from writing my true feelings on here, which is kind of stupid, because the people who actually know me, and know that this is my blog, really shouldn’t be surprised when I choose to voice my opinion.
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Have you ever deleted a comment? Tell us about it.
I’m regularly finding myself deleting comments online.
The most common reason for me doing this is because I forget to apply my filter whenever I write a comment, and instead just write whatever I’m thinking, completely disregarding how offensive or scathing it might be. Then once I’ve actually written it, I’ll stop and re-read it a few times, and realise that it could probably be worded in a much nicer way, and then I’ll go back and generally edit the comment.
Tell us your funniest relationship disaster story.
I can’t believe that I’m about to write this…
I remember this one night I was out clubbing with a group of friends, and in true cliched form, I saw this guy across the floor. Our eyes met and it was electric. Now, we had never actually met before, but we had seen each other out at the same venue once or twice. Up until this moment, I’d never actually noticed him. I was still dancing with my friends and he threw a smile my way.
I had one of those moments where I just assumed that he was smiling at me, but then realised that I could actually be horribly wrong, and he’s smiling at somebody else behind me instead, and I’ve just made a fool of myself. Well done. So because of this insecurity, I actually stopped dancing to turn around and look at all the other guys behind me, to see if I was right… I didn’t see anybody looking, but I might have missed it. Besides, he was the kinda guy that seemed somewhat untouchable. Ruggedly handsome, a great physique. You know the type – the tall, really attractive guy, that only is ever seen with other guys who look exactly the same. (SIDENOTE: just recently a new internet phenomenon on Tumblr has surfaced called ‘Boyfriend Twin’… you can check it out here).
This was one of those guys, and I was the complete opposite.
So after standing around looking like a bit of a dork, I turned back at this guy who was just sitting at the bar with a drink, and by this stage he was having a little laugh. He then pointed in my direction.
‘Me?’ I mouthed the words and pointed at myself with an inquisitive head tilt. He smiled, nodded and mouthed ‘Yes! You!’.
‘Really?’
He nodded again.
…and then I kinda ‘fan-girled’ out a bit. I called the guys in for a little huddle in the middle of the dancefloor and told them what had just happened. I felt like the cheerleader who was just asked to the senior prom by the captain of the football team. The guys were a bit surprised as much as I was, but told me to go for it. I almost didn’t even want to go over there and talk to him, simply for the fact that it would just be feeding his ego even more, but then I kinda knew it would seem rude if I didn’t.
…but not wanting to give in to his ego won me over, so I stayed on the floor dancing with my mates for a while longer. Sure enough, he danced his way over to me, and almost instantly, I realised that my friends had completely deserted me, and were all watching from the sidelines. I was soooo nervous. We couldn’t really talk much over the loud music, but he tilted his head, gesturing for me to follow him, and stretched out his hand for me to grab and follow him.
He led me out from the dancefloor and into another one of the bars, where we were able to catch some fresh air and actually hear each other talk. He introduced himself, and I tried as best as I could to play it as cool as possible. There was no way I could fan-girl out in front of this guy. I simply refused to. We spoke for a while, until one of my friends came over and interrupted, and whisked me off to the dancefloor and demanded that I tell him absolutely everything that was said during our conversation.
Just as I was finishing the relay of information, this guy, (let’s just call him Steve*) came back up and squeezed his way inbetween my friend and I – basically telling my friend to leave so he could dance with me. My friend was slightly offended and behind his back mouthed out ‘RUDE MUCH?!’ and went off to find the others.
Turns out Steve had seen me here a couple of times before, and loved watching my friends and I dance the night away. He enjoyed just sitting back and watching the people, as we both knew it could actually be quite an entertaining experience.
We knew that the club was going to be closing soon, and he asked me where we were planning on going afterwards. I said I wasn’t sure, but I’d ask the boys what they were planning on doing as they were also my ride home. Without hesitation he grabbed my head and turned it to the side and spoke directly into my ear “hows about I take you home after a late breakfast at my place?”
Whhaaaaaattt?? Was he…? did he just…? Does that mean…? I was a bit taken aback by him being so straightforward. Truth be told, I was quite terrified. I’d never gone home with a guy from a club before because it was something that really scared me. I’d heard so many stories about guys being drugged, raped and / or attacked by a guy they’ve gone home with. You don’t know this person. You don’t know if they’re genuine or if they’re a complete psychopath. It was that uncertainty that scared me the most, but I threw caution to the wind and agreed. I went to tell my friends what was happening and the reaction I got from them was a mixture of happiness, excitement and concern. Being the good friends that they were, and knowing that I was quite nervous, they said they would actually follow us to his place, note down the address just as a safety precaution. If I got scared, I had to send them a blank SMS and they’d be on their way immediately. It sounded extreme, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
We decided to leave and we walked to his car. He held my hand and even opened my door for me… what a gentleman…?! and we headed off to his place.
The in-car conversation was rather awkward. It was different seeing this guy in more adequate lighting – he looked rather different to the dark mysterious guy from the bar. If anything he was actually more attractive outside the club. We got the basics out of the way, what our names were and what we did for work, where we lived and what tv shows we were currently into. When we arrived in his driveway, I got a txt saying ‘ADDRESS CONFIRMED’ and I turned around to see my friends car drive past. I felt a sense of relief and he took my had and led me up the path to his front door.
He opened the door, which opened up to an open plan kitchen / dining / living area. A few dim lamps were already on to provide some mood lighting, and there was music softly playing in the background. I instantly cringed at this guys arrogance. He clearly left all this on in anticipation of brining somebody home. I guess it didn’t matter who it wAs. It was such an instant turn off, and my opinion of him began to begin dropping . He offered me a drink, and I just asked for water, the whole time watching him like a hawk just to make sure he didn’t slip something into my drink.
I’ve seen my fair share of horror movies. This is usually how it begins before you wake up in a bathtub full of ice and missing a kidney. For somebody so cynical, even I was amazed that I was standing in this guys kitchen!
We adjourned to his couch and just talked for a while. He could tell that I was nervous and I told him that I was nervous and quite intimidated because he was so attractive… But knowing that that would just inflate his ego too much, I quickly countered with a couple of remarks about how arrogant he seems to be… Using all these terrible cheesy ‘pickup lines’; leaving lights and music on to create ambiance for when he brought his trade home etc. He was quite taken aback by my honesty and started laughing. He told me that no guy has ever spoken to him like that before, and without hesitation I told him that I’m not like every other guy. He laughed again and started to stroke my arm telling me that he could tell I was different.
Conversation soon turned into kissing, and kissing soon led to clothes being removed. Soon enough he pulled back, stood up and led me down the hallway to a bedroom. He pulled me in close and we fell onto the bed and well… y’know… One thing led to another… But after a few minutes of heavy passionate kissing and hands going everywhere I noticed that, well, little Steve wasn’t too interested in saying hello.
Having never encountered this before, I really didn’t know what to do. There was an elephant in the room (and yes, pun definitely intended) that was being completely ignored. I couldn’t ignore it and asked him whether he was enjoying himself. He said he was and didn’t want me to stop kissing me. I kinda drew focus onto the deflated elephant and asked if he wanted me to leave. I wouldn’t be offended if he wasn’t interested. He exhaled loudly and it became immediately clear that I’d just humiliated him. He admitted that he had a bit of a problem, but he just took a little while to… Um… ‘Get the party started’. He said he didn’t need Viagra or anything like that, instead he asked me if I was into dirty talk. Having never tried it, it was kinda not the best situation to try it for the first time. I think I was just as embarrassed having to ask him to demonstrate, and when he did, I started giggling uncontrollably.
“You have got to be kidding me, right?!” Nope. He was serious. So I tried and felt so stupid, but then I saw how into it he was getting. Each to their own, I suppose! I took this as a sign to really get creative, and it certainly had the desired effect. Turns out Big Steve should really come with a warning sign. Just the sight of it was extremely intimidating and terrifying at the same time. Immediately I knew that this ‘experience’ was going to be quite limited as there was no fucking way that thing was coming anywhere near me.
We spent a while fooling around, and then he suggested we have a shower, as we both smelt quite bad from being at the club, so we moved into the shower. The water went on, and the steam swirled around our naked bodies before steaming up the mirror. He quickly washed himself and then excused himself to go to the bathroom. I took my time and wrapped a towel around me before returning to the bedroom.
I walked through the door and was stopped in my tracks. There, in front of me, was a very naked and ripped hottie laying out a black plastic sheet on the bed, with a lovely collection of accessories dumped on the floor beside the bed. In the dim light I couldn’t quite see what it was, and must have been staring at it looking rather puzzled.
The smell of amyl began to fill the air and he bent down to pick up a leather mask and a gimp mask.
The wave of pure terror that instantly washed over me was just too much to deal with. I couldn’t stay here. I needed to leave. This was most definitely NOT what I had anticipated.
‘What’s all this?’ I asked, curious, nervous and scared all at once. ‘Oh, I thought you might like to play with some toys and stuff and, y’know, have some fun!’
‘Oh, um, I thought we could have just done that by ourselves… I’m not into toys or role play… and definitely not leather or masks or any of that kind of stuff…’
He walked over to me, and put his arms around me. I thought he was going to kiss me, but when he fumbled with my wrists, I realised that he was trying to handcuff me. That was the deal breaker right there… in that moment I knew I needed to leave.
I broke away from him and explained that I don’t do any of this stuff, especially handcuffs!! I walked over to my clothes on the floor, and purposefully grabbed my phone out of the pockets of my pants. I quickly turned my back to him and sent a blank SMS to my mate, knowing that they would be about fifteen to twenty minutes away (providing they came straight away).
Good ol’ Don Juan could see that I was somewhat distressed by his… um… enthusiasm into our night together, and quickly backtracked as much as he could. I was quite surprised that he was so quick to pack everything up and push it aside, but as he was doing so, I was getting dressed and planning my exit strategy – just in case things went sour.
He came up behind me to spin me around, and began apologising profusely. He said that he was far too presumptuous, and he shouldn’t have been; but was surprised because most guys he brings home seem to just go with it.. I reminded him again, that I’m not one of those guys – I’m different.
“But I really want to fuck you. You’re so hot! I know what guys like you are like in bed, and it’s so fucking hot. And let’s face it, you wanna fuck me too!”
I could have vomited right then and there. GOD! The ego of this guy. If anything, that last little outburst made me want to leave even faster. I thanked him for an unforgettable evening, and made my way through the house to the front door. He asked me one last time not to go, and I replied saying that I just simply couldn’t spend any more time with somebody who was so completely full of themselves.
I walked through the door into the crisp night air, and he told me that I was missing out on a fantastic experience, and I’ll never get the privilege ever again. That stopped me in my tracks. I turned 180 on my heels and stormed back up to his front porch and told him right to his face that the only reason he is so full of himself and exudes so much revolting bravado is because he finds temporary comfort in making himself out to be something more than he actually is. Perhaps if he wasn’t such an egotistical wanker, then he’d actually be able to have a normal conversation with somebody and meet a normal guy and fall in love, instead of trying to fill the sadness and emptiness within himself with constant anonymous hookups. THAT is the privilege that he would never experience unless he changed and stopped being such a wanker.
He stood there, staring at me, completely speechless, and I turned around and walked off down the street. As I turned the corner, I called my friends who were a few minutes away. I told them where to meet me and soon enough the eery silence of the suburban streets was interrupted by the sound of my friends car. I hopped in the car and we headed off to McDonalds for a completely play-by-play of the entire experience.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/third-rate-romance/
Have you ever had one of those days?
Those days where for some unknown reason, everything seems to turn to absolute shit, and by about lunchtime you regret getting out of bed, and wish you had’ve just stayed there.
I’ve only been up for a whole 25mins, but I’m already regretting it.
It started with me throwing my eyelids open as I lay in bed, shouting out a long and panicked FFFFUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!!!! see it was 7:59am, and I should have already been halfway to work. That, and my alarm went off at 6:30am!!
…great. Ugh.
I think I then got ready in the fastest possible time in the history of, well, ever, because I was dressed and out the door within minutes. I double checked my bus options and powered down to my alternate stop and caught the bus.
…which was like stepping into a sauna.
Turns out the heater on the bus is on. Mainly because the driver turned it on, and then accidentally broke the switch, so he can’t turn it off. So now we’re all sweating like pigs. Oh did I mention there are no opening windows on this bus??
…awesome.
Oh, and to add to this glorious start to the day, the bus is full of teenagers.
*cue loud groans of frustration and over the top eye rolling*
At this precise moment I contemplated getting off at the very next stop, but then that would require waiting another 18mins for the next bus, and at this rate, I’d be lucky to make it to work by 9am.
I don’t think you can possibly imagine how much I cannot stand teenagers in general. They’re just so… Feral. Blocking the aisles, being loud and abusive, climbing over seats, hitting and punching each other…. And that’s just the girls. It’s like these kids have just been collected from some kind of uncivilised remote island and they’re being let loose in society for the very first time.
They remind me of that scene from Planet of the Apes where the apes break free and go wild and terrorise the city… That’s what they’re like.
And I’m pretty sure they’d love to fling handfuls of their own shit at each other.
All I wanted was for the bus to crash and explode and end my misery. Not literally of course… But fuck, just get me off this bus ride from hell!!
Bus arrives at the train station, and then all of a sudden the fresh air hits me like a slap in the face! Ahhhhh what a relief!! I make my way through the station to my platform and when the train turns up, I choose the carriage, walk through the doors and instantly regret it, and weigh up whether I have time to jump off and race to the next carriage before the doors close.
Why?
BECAUSE SOME DIRTY FUCKER CANT CONTROL THEIR BOWELS AND FARTED ON THE TRAIN JUST BEFORE THEY GOT OFF!!
You bastard!!
10minutes later, the stench is still there, lingering just long enough to piss everybody else. One woman pulls out her ‘perfume’ and begins to spray it around her… Then like a series of dominoes, a few other ladies do the same.
It’s like walking into the perfume section of 😜Myer (big Aussie department store).
…sometimes I think I prefer the stench of an anonymous fart – only because now the train smells like candy-scented hooker which, let’s face it, is just as bad.
I get off the train, walk through the station and head down to the tram stop. Normally I’ll walk from the station to the office, but I’m running late today, so I’ll catch a tram. 2 minutes. Great.
So the tram turns up and it’s packed. Like, I’m talking packed. Sometimes I think we could give the Japanese a few tips on how to squash people onto public transport. I’m not sure what it’s like in other cities, but here in Melbourne, when it comes to people catching transport, particularly trams, they just seem to lose all sense of logic and rationale and become so completely fucking stupid. As a relatively normal person, if I see a packed tram coming towards me, then I know that I simply can’t get on it and just have to wait for the next one. Others, however, either completely ignore that fact, or treat it like a challenge. I think there’s enough room in the corner for one shoe, so that must mean I can get my entire 100kg+ body in there as well! because that’s clearly how it fucking works. Dude, just wait for the next one. These retards make my head hurt.
Needless to say, I didn’t get on the tram and had to wait for the next one.
Now I’m ten minutes late, I’m sweating in all the worst places and don’t have a change of clothes and I smell like a hooker… And I haven’t even gotten to the office yet… It’s not too late to turn around and just go home, right??
Tell us about a picture you never snapped that you wish you had.
I really wish I had more photos of a lot of moments from my life.
Birthdays. Dance comps. Holidays. Hanging out with my friends etc. I just don’t have them. I’m not actually sure why that is. I know that we had a camera, and I remember that my father had bought it, and nobody else was allowed to touch it, because it was quite expensive. I remember that he used to keep it in one of his drawers, and as kids, we were forbidden to go through his drawers. I remember that if I ever wanted to take a photo, I had to get his permission and that was quite rare.
Most people have album after album of photos, documenting their entire lives – I don’t. I have maybe a couple of packets of photos, most of which are from when I was a baby, or a small child. I don’t have photos of any of my dance comps, because my parents never came to them. I have only two or three photos of some of my costumes out of something like 13years of dancing and that makes me really sad. Photos are documented memories that people keep for the rest of their lives, and now, those memories exist only in my very scattered brain.
Describe the one decision in your life where you wish you could get a “do-over.” Tell us about the decision, and why you’d choose to take a different path this time around.
how on earth am I supposed to pick just one event in my life, when so much of my life I wish I could do-over??
I think ultimately, if I could, then I would get into dancing at a younger age, and begin with Jazz and Ballet… then when I get to year 10, I’d want to leave school to go live interstate and dance full-time.
When I was in high-school I actually reached a point where I began looking into tuition fees for performing arts high-schools in Sydney, and even full-time dance schools and their junior school programme…
…needless to say, nothing ever eventuated from it. Oh how I wish I could’ve gone to a performing arts school, or even better, a proper dance school.
That would have been the pinnacle decision in my life that would have changed everything. Once I made that choice, then everything else in my life would end up being completely different. The friends I have, the experiences I’ve had, the places I’ve lived, the boys I’ve dated, the happiness, the sadness, the fun, the pain – it would all be so completely different. I probably wouldn’t even be living in Melbourne. I would have completely different jobs. I might only have one job, rather than two. I probably would have traveled all over the world dancing, and being paid to do something that truly resonates within me down to the core.
But, until somebody can actually invent time-travel, we can’t spend our lives living in the past, hanging onto regrets, because it achieves nothing and gets you nowhere. Perhaps I make all the mistakes in this life, so that when I come back in my next life, I can do it all the way I should have done things in the first place.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/11/daily-prompt-my-way/
Gandhi said, “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” Agree or disagree? Is there more to happiness than that?
I would tend to agree with this. If you think about it, if one of those elements is not in alignment with the others, there isn’t a genuine stream of happiness. Well, providing that having those three elements in alignment is something that gives you happiness… for some it may not.
Think about what you wanted to accomplish last week. Did you? What are the things that hold you back from doing everything you’d like to do?
I had a lot that I wanted to achieve, but simply didn’t get to. Although I was quite impressed that I managed to get myself down to the pool to continue swimming, I’m not sure how that’s going to factor into my life now that I’m back at work. Everything is much easier when you’re on holidays and you feel as though you have all this time up your sleeve.
…but you don’t take total advantage of it.
I wanted to go to the beach… but I didn’t.
I wanted to swim some more… I did, but not as much as I originally had planned.
I wanted to really get on top of all my blog posts… and I didn’t.
I wanted to spend a good chunk of time playing PlayStation… and didn’t.
I wanted to work out… but I didn’t.
There’s a lot about the previous week, as well as the other weeks that I’ve been on holidays, that I regret. I didn’t utilise all my time to it’s fullest potential, and instead just wasted it and let it pass me by. I’m not entirely sure why or how it happened, but it did.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/27/daily-prompt-barriers/
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.
…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!!
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.
...I don't do laundry.
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