It’s been so long

It was the choker that really sold it for me

It’s been so long since I posted, apologies! No excuses, well no excuses worth reporting. But I thought it was time to spread my good word around the interwebz once more because I have fallen in love. He may just be a character in a tv show BUT IT IS TRUE LOVE NONETHELESS, a love that truly flourishes in my mind. Not since being 14 and crushin’ hard on Jordan Catalano, teen bad boy of the short-lived by epicly awesome 90s tween tv show My So Called Life, have I been this enamored with a fictional character. I think I may have actually weeped when MSCL was cancelled, but now all these years later I have finally filled that void. I have replaced my crush on a beautiful yet morally questionable and undeniably stupid boy with a crush on a nerdy local government worker, Ben Wyatt (Adam Scott) from Parks and Recreation. Not a lot of people watch this show in Australia but its fucking awesome and you need to get into it, specifically watch season 2, episode 4. Mega LOLZ to be had all around.

so aroused right now

Anyway I can’t stop thinking about Ben Wyatt and wishing he was a real person and that I could date the fuck out of him. Seriously. That sounded a bit weird. Anyway, in this lengthy indeterminate (because I don’t like to think too much about it) time that I’ve been celibate, I’ve had a fair bit of time to muse on who my future husband should be. A real life version of Ben Wyatt would probably hit the mark. However, as I know that most people don’t have time to watch Parks and Recreation and fully understand my obsession and attraction and from that figure out who is my perfect man, I will outline certain characteristics that my perfect man must have. This will allow you, dedicated readers, to go out and seek this man for me and then kidnap and drug him and bring him to me bound and gagged (oh shit just revealed a little too much about my sexual tastes. AWKWARD), here they are broken down in sub sections:

1. Has looks – and good ones at that. They should be a mega babe. Of what variety (short, tall, blonde, brunette, third nipple, ironic hipster moustache) I don’t mind.

2. Has brain – he should be smart and believe in shit, but not in star signs and scientology.

3. Cuddles and is informed about female sexual anatomy – self-explanatory

4. Will cook for me – gluten free delicious foods for breakfast with bacon plz

5. Bacon

I mean I’m not asking too much am I? Ben Wyatt has all these things (just assuming about the third) and so will my future husband. Excuse me while I write this down, rip this up and chuck it in the fireplace, Mary Poppins style. If I don’t end up with a man, at least I’ll have this chick who can make cleaning my room fun, command an army of birds to sing and take me on an acid trip adventure to the races.

trippin'

I will try this out ASAP

Just a quickie (lols none of that round here), proper post coming soon I hope. This crazy lady is surely onto something…

Apparently a characteristic of ‘The European Men’ is that they are hot. EXCELLENT.

1+1=?

Will breaking the drought actually lead to happiness? This is the question on my mind recently after a barrage of hilarious stories about failed sexual experiences or relationship disasters. I’d like to share a story I’ve been acquainted with for a while now;

So this friend of a friend of mine wanted this guy for like ages. Let’s say since approximately the jurassic era. After an extended period of flirtation and build-up they finally go on a date. The date goes AWESOMELY, muchos laughing, talking and kissing occurs. They end of going back to his place and that thing you do when a “mummy really loves a daddy and they are of the age of consent” occurs. And it goes AWESOMELY (see this where most broken drought stories go awry, in the making of ze love part). They sleep and in the morning the guy gets up to go to work but urges this friend of a friend to just sleep in and hang out, shower, eat some breakfast and let herself out – god this man is perfect, amirite? Anyway she keeps sleeping elated and exhausted by the night’s conquest. She wakes up later and showers, eats some food and takes a shit. AND HERE IS WHERE IT ALL FALLS TO PIECES.

The toilet doesn’t flush.

She freaks out and instead of manually flushing the toilet (chicks are sooo dumb sometimes it hurts) she gets a plastic bag and removes the fecal matter from the toilet to put in the bin. She takes another shower cause you know she inavertedly touched poo and then gets dressed and leaves the house. Only to realize…

She had left the bag of poo on the kitchen bench.

She had meant to throw it in the bin and completely forgot. FUCKING AWKWARD. Naturally she does what any sane woman would do – she walks away and never returns the guy’s phone calls leaving him always wondering about what he did to deserve a bag of poo on his kitchen bench. Maybe the sex wasn’t awesome after all. He will never know.

THE END

Google can find anything

Cyber love

Yesterday while perusing the wares at a second hand book store I stumbled upon this badge – or as they call them here in the land of the free, button:

It immediately spoke to me (not literally, I generally avoid psychedelic drugs) and reached deep into the caverns of my fledgling soul. It asked the question that I have been asking for a while now; WHERE THE FUCK IS MY LOVE LIFE? no but srsly, have you seen it? I once had one, I SWEARZ, but it seems to have found quite the dark and inaccessible hiding place, so if you see it plz let me know.

In the last three months that I have been living in NY, it seems that peoples love-lives are firmly rooted in cyber space. Everywhere I go I hear of peepz meeting online, or as the french would say “en ligne.” And these peepz are almost always both babin’ and awesome. Till now I had considered the online dating world to be a place that hobgoblins and the socially inept meet,  but not so in this land of opportunity. Perhaps this is where my love life is hiding out. To find out if this is true, I joined two online dating websites; Jdate and OKcupid. Jdate is a jewish dating website, so you know we can keep the love within the chosen people. OKcupid is the site that brought together my awesome cousins through a love of Haruki Murakami, if people can meet over a shared love of japanese magic-realism online then surely this would be where I could find the ever elusive black-jewish architect of my dreams. However after filling in the arbitrary registrations for both websites in order to browse and see if this was my next step in singledom, I encountered two major roadblocks:

1. There were some cute boys but not enough… however this is a problem in the real life as well as the cyberworld.
2. I still can’t shake the feeling of grossness surrounding online dating, I just can’t do it. Maybe if the drought continues into the next millennium then maybe, but for now I think I’m good stepping away from OKcupid and Jdate. I just don’t think it’s gonna work our between me and Stealth69@Jdate.com

Girl porn #2

Oh lord sweet baby jebus, why are football players so hot? I thought our young men of the AFL in their short shorts were pretty damn fine but then I set my weary eyes on the men of the Dillon High panthers in the seriously awesome show Friday Night Lights (FNL), a show about this team and their attempts to win football games and maybe break a couple of hearts along the way. This show provides eye candy of all varieties, including:

1. The underdog, sensitive eye candy – Matt Saracen.
Matt steps in to take the place of injured quarterback Jason Street as the starting quarterback of the panthers. He is inexperienced, quiet and a tortured soul who looks after his grandma. Ultimate good guy and damn fine with his shirt off, though this occurs too rarely in my educated opinion.

Brooding under-dogness

2. The bad-boy eye candy- Tim Riggins.
He regularly shows up to practice hungover. This is a man to my own heart. And though he looks hot in his football uniform his everyday Tim uniform is also sexy – old jeans and a barely buttoned shirt. Plus he’s got the 90s grunge hair and he’s inevitably headed for jail, who could resist that?

Textbook Tim Riggins attire

3. The older man eye candy – Coach Taylor.
Called ‘Coach’ by almost everyone including his slamming hot wife – you know this man commands respect. He is an American hero who can do no wrong. Srsly. You know he’d provide for you and the kids unlike Matt who struggles to form one sentence or Riggins who will hit the drink faster than you can say “Texas forever”

He's always yelling about something, often to do with football

So as you can see there is a really significant amount of sexymaness to be checked out in FNL. Who’s your personal choice? Both in man and in FNL terms? Here’s a poll so I can see what you kids think. Hopefully this works:

On a very side note, I watch FNL on netflix over here in the states. Netflix is awesome and despo needs to be launched in Australia, its this thing where you pay $9 a month and get dvds delivered to your house that you have to mail back and also get to watch a boatload of other stuff instantly online with no download time or whatevs. Point is, midway through one of the FNL episodes my Netflix got cut off cause apparently I didn’t have enough moneyz in my bank account. HOW SAD. Anyway I quickly fixed this problem and then desperately called up Netflix to say: PLZ PROCESS MY PAYMENT ASAP CAUSE NOW I PROMISE I HAVE MONEYZ AND NEED MY FNL FIX ASAP OR SURELY THE WORLD WILL COLLAPSE IN ON ITSELF. The customer service lady had no doubt she was talking to a real winnah who spends their saturday nights drooling over high schoolers on netflix. I am so cool it actually hurts.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY BABY

This is a momentous occasion, people of the world, as I believe that it has now been one year since I got laid. I’m not sure about the date but I feel like it may have been the first week of september last year at the latest. So here we are one year on… And there are a couple of things I’ve learnt/been asking myself along the road:

1. Boys suck
My drought is also a drought of eligible boys, or meeting boys that I’ve actually liked. Well liked in a break the drought kind of way.  The biggest question of my drought is: where are they? Where is my own Mr.Darcy?

this man could break a drought in his sleep

2.  Do I blog because I drought or do I drought because I blog?
How philosophicalz. Maybe blogging about your accidental/incidental celibacy isn’t the most attractive thing possible. As the old adage goes: why buy the cow when you can have the milk for free? I’m not sure that this saying makes sense here, but it sure is funny.

3. My experiences are universal experiences
These experiences of a single lady lost in a quagmire of boring boys and dry lands cross cultural, religious and sometimes even gender boundaries, the response I have been receiving from the religious boys post is a testament to that. Times are tough for the ladies. Just check out this clip from my favourite Bollywood movie ‘Pyaar impossible,’ even hotter than hot Alisha needs a man…

I think she sums it up well in the first line: “Hey boy you are the hunk with the trunk, Backing in the funny loaded funky junk” (for full lyrics so you can sing along please click here)

4. But you know what, it ain’t half bad
Though spending a year without any real action does suck, I’ve had a pretty epic first year of singledom. I’m living in New York sweet baby jebus and loving it, single and all. Cause it’s New York Fucking City.

Stealing youth and beauty

Fuck I’m a shit blogger. The problem is that this blog is based on experiences and inspiration from my real life single lady struggles, however things have been kind of blah lately in new york. Where are the hot menz??? SO while I wait for these mythical creatures to arrive, I just want to get something off my bountiful chest:

Meet Aaron Johnson, star of Nowhere Boy

This photo does not even do this man justice. Only my five foot shrine to his beauty including a collage of every outfit he wears in Nowhere Boy as well as his back hair braided into a crown, does this man justice. Or should I say boy? For he is younger than me, a mere 20 years old – which plunges me back into that existential despair witnessed in my earlier post about footballers, about how little I’ve accomplished in 21 years on this earth. But anyway back to the issue at hand, Aaron. Who is probably also jewish, so I can overlook his youth and declare that he is probably my one true love. However he has apparently already met his…
This is Aaron with his fiance Sam Taylor Wood, who is a famous photographer  (she is responsible for that hott photo of Hayden Christensen crying) and the director of Nowhere Boy and who is also 43 years old. FORTY-THREE FUCKING YEARS OLD. Talk about cradle snatching, her oldest child from her previous marriage is 13 years old. When your fiance is closer in age to your child then IT’S PROBABLY NOT A GOOD IDEA. To top it all off she just gave birth to a child with Aaron – so he has become a 20 year old father. Which would be okay if he was a chasidic jew or white trash… but he is neither.

Age gap relationships are crazy to me but I guess they sometimes work. My problem here is that as Aaron is my one true love I can’t approve of a relationship that is clearly sucking the youth and beauty from this boy. Why won’t she just let him live??? And live with me???

Sextin’

Firstly sorry for the recent lack of bloggin, I’ve been kind of busy working and drinking etc. In fact, I’m drinking right now and it’s 4pm in the arvo, so who knows what the night will hold? or the afternoon…

I would like to broach an issue that has plagued womenkind for centuries, okay maybe only one century really, the century that involved the cellphone. I mean this issue – the issue of awkward sms etiquette – probably existed in some other form pre-mobile/pre-life, you know maybe chicks used to write gentlemen letters and then they would like never reply. Or like reply and be super rude, so they’d write:

Yo lady,
What’s up? we should totes hold hands some time. I would love to see your ankles.
Peace out,
Jimmy

Instead of being all polite and saying:

To the lady of the house,
I would be honoured to call upon you this evening, perhaps around 6.30 by my watch.
Yours,
James F Jefferson

Anyway that’s enough about times past, let’s talk about the modern age. Texting is the new courting, a very frustrating process that begins with a number exchange and hopefully ends in a broken drought. I HATE THIS PROCESS. Every girl I know agonizes over the following things when it comes to texting a boy:

1. What does (insert random line from a text) really mean?
Texts lack tone, so we never really know if their positive, negative or just plain ambivalent. Things are so easily misinterpreted in texts so a simple “See you soon” leads to questions like: BUT HOW SOON?

This is approximately how I feel when a boy doesn't reply to an sms

2. Why has he taken this long to write back?
I would say a long time to write back is usually a negative thing. When a guys take ages to write back I usually spend most of the time DYING INSIDE. But you can always delude yourself into thinking that they take ages because they are struggling to carefully word a message to fully appreciate how much they want you. Or you can delude yourself by asking….

3. Is my phone broken? Or his? HE MUST NOT HAVE RECEIVED MY MESSAGE BECAUSE IF HE HAD HE WOULD’VE WRITTEN BACK IMMEDIATELY FOR I AM A BABE.
This leads to the dilemma: do you write again? I say: NO. But its hard to resist especially when said boy is slamming hot. So you write again and risk seeming like a desperate loser. Which you probably are at this point. DO NOT WRITE AGAIN or you will end up looking like Mary Hays, this babe (?) from the time when women wore corsets who totes wanted this babe (?) guy and he was soooo not interested. So she went ahead anyway and wrote him dozens of awkward passionate sex letters. He didn’t reply. But she continued for years and ended up compiling them into a ‘novel’ called ‘The Memoirs of Emma Courtney.’ Read this book and the sheer desperation of Emma Courtney/Mary Hays will disgust you enough to never send a boy another message again. Srsly.

Anyway, the moral of the story/series of questions is that texting blows hard. Boys – if you’re out there – please just write back. Even if it’s to say: soz it ain’t gonna happen babez – the wait is so much worse.

Also sorry about the misleading blog post title, I just really like the word sextin. Lolz.

ExOtIc gIrL

This is exactly how I appear to the average american male

Before I left for overseas many a male friend of mine told me: “the American boys will love you!” (let’s be honest they said it with many more expletives but there’s no need to expose y’all to that sort of french language). This raises two very important questions:

1. What about Australian boys? Can I not gain their love? must I travel thousands of miles across the seas to reach a strange and aggressive land in order to be loved?
2. Are you sure?

Let’s address number 2. Now, I immediately dismissed this sentiment as bs, as I have a highly developed sense of bs. However, they appear to have been somewhat correct in their analysis. Since I’ve arrived on this continent, people have just been friendlier -both platonically and not-so platonically. For the first time in my life, I’M EXOTIC. Who knew a pale red-head jew girl with oversized glasses could be considered exotic? But apparently a strange accent is all you need. And it’s awesome. I’ve always had a secret desire to be more exotic and now I am. LIFE IS GOOD.

Malfunctionin’

I walked into a bank last week back in Melbourne with my hot blonde lady friend and found myself checking out this slightly older bank manager who approached us. Afterwards I commented to my lady friend something along the lines of: “That man was kinda slamming hot,” however apparently I was pretty damn wrong in my assessment. The look of disgust on her face said it all really, it said: “Oh shit, my dear friend here has finally lost the plot. After months of drought, she has finally gone batshit crazy, checking out gross older men. ALSO: I wonder what the old lady is making for dinner tonight.” It was a sudden and concerning revelation that maybe after all these months without meeting any good manfolk, I am losing my discerning mind – however this does seem to contradict my previous post about getting pickier, so essentially who the hell even knows?

Also NY update: people are so much friendlier here it is crazy town. Found myself trying to help this american pick up blonde russian twins at a pizza place last night, needless to say my pick-up tips suck cross-culturally…what a shock.