elephant poo

the best comment i have received must definitely have gone to wetgal 21 who told me she had a webcam. if only the world was full of wetgal. and they all had webcams. is 21 her age? or degree of wetness? maybe i should've found out.

on thursday, i found the world WAS full of wetgal. they were fat and dripping in the heat. beads of sweat became dripping lard. already tight clothes became tighter, as if to punish me. turn your aircon off, catch public transport, lest global warming turn your suburb into a den of mini-skirted fatties. soon, blacktown will be the east. these westies dress this way when there is no water near. maybe they are prepared for apocalypse.

i'm having one of those days when i called ten people and they were all busy. they can go fuck themselves. if they can find the time. but that is ok. if i had called somebody who was free, then i would be hanging out with a loser also. i don't want to do that. i'm screwed. "are you free as well? hmm...great. shit...bad reception...."

whether it be asking the muslims at uni if they DO in fact prefer peace or finding out that fat people actually know they shouldn't be at buffet palace, i'm all about the search for truth. however, i am anything but truthful. for example, the other day i said i would like my subway toasted when i only didn't mind a bit. i didn't want to hurt his feelings. generally speaking, i like hurting people's feelings because i think i am good at making them feel better. when they come to me in a good state, i feel like i have no purpose. however, subway man and i did not have enough time together. and he was handling my food. when i wear plastic gloves, it usually frees me up to touch dirty things. i wonder how difficult the temptation would be for subway man. he has to put gloves on to keep even cleaner. it's weird. and so much more seems to separate us than the counter now. or rather, it is the physical counter, as well as our counter approaches to glove-wearing, which keeps us apart. really, what am i saying?

the world would be a better place if i lived on the moon. i'd get a perspective that says, man the world is so much better and the moon sucks. and it would become truth. so that is my solution for all the "compassionate" tools that want to make the world a better place. fly them to moon and let them play among the stars. now if that wasn't original...well, it is time to give up.

like most people, i have lived life in a world where the sound of a woman's voice saying nothing was never far away. some talk so much, and yet they feel as though nobody listens to them. this means that they know that they are wasting their breath. however, these women seem to think that the greatest waste of all is a private thought, and so they share it.

i mention the junk above because i found myself becoming the 'just byron' to some chick whose fella probably ignores her. hell to that. i pissed off right quick, showing that i've learnt. i'm plenty mature now.

so mature that i started looking at possible career avenues about four years later than i should've. i had a look at a mate's resume to see what sort of stuff i should put in mine when i eventually write it (gimme another four years) and it had "conquered fear of heights by climbing harbour bridge". she tells me that part went down a treat. bitch. i apologise to my prospective employers for being unfruitcakey enough to not be scared of stupid shit, so as to be able to boast about getting over them. god i hate the world sometimes. and it really is quite detrimental. however, it seems that the only way for me to succeed is to conquer my fear of being a tool. as usual, the joke is on me.

like dave hughes once said, 'i'm angry'

not outraged angry, just angry 'cos thinks are not quite right atm. i feel like an abo on australia day. or a gay person having sex. things seem wrong and i can't pinpoint or help it.

i read another dan brown book. in one of his "look at me" things, he wrote something like "in between all the running around and intelligent action, Evanescalou the exciting scholar/mother-of-two gave the thumbs up, not knowing that it was the ancient symbol for male virility." his books are the ancient symbol for trash.

and do i mean something every time i thumb up now? and does it mean i am virile or you are virile? like you do something good and i am saying, "mad virility"? or i do something and it's "how's my virility?" it's probably a question and answer. "virile?"..."your left AND right testicles are splendid"