All The Small Things

So I bought a new car not so long ago. A month ago, to be exact.

Last weekend, my dear car's battery died in my driveway, at approximately 6.30pm.

I was home alone, and was about to head out to a function at our local footy club. We'd won a double premiership (reserves and the firsts) and we were out to have a party... most of the town was there.

So I'm in the driveway and my battery is dead. There was no reason for this - there weren't any lights on or anything, the doors were all shut, I hadn't killed it, it had just died of natural causes. I needed a jump start.

Then I remembered that I had been given 24 hour roadside assistance with my car!

Yay!

So I rang up.

And the lady made the following points to me:

1) I live a long way from the city.

2) It would be a very long wait to get someone out to me.

3) I would be better off waiting till Monday if I could.

4) If there was someone else who could help me I'd be better off calling them instead.

When I explained that actually, no, I did need my car now, and I was prepared to wait, and that I lived alone and didn't have anyone here to help me, she said that she'd ring the company who organised it, and get back to me.

This conversation left me so perplexed that I called Ellvis - who then asked me why I hadn't rang a friend of ours who lived around the corner.

In the animated, and therefore immortal words of Homer Simpson: D'oh.

So I rang my friend, who wasn't home. But then I rang another friend, who rushed over to help me. While he was rushing over, I called the Roadside Assistance company back, telling them I didn't need them. I got the ladies answering machine, and left a message.

Immediately after I hung up, I recieved a phonecall from a gentleman from the Roadside Assistance.

I explained that I was right - I'd organised a friend to come and help me. That was fine, he said, but he wanted me to know the following:

1) Battery care. During a lecture that lasted for 5 minutes, I learned that I should check my battery, that batteries don't last forever, and that I should watch out for the warning signs of a dying battery to avoid this situation. Also, I shouldn't leave lights on or doors open.

(I did explain that I do all of the battery care as outlined, and that there had been no warning, and that the car was BRAND NEW but this only made him a bit crankier. In the end, I just said, well, I'll keep that in mind...)

2) Roadside Assistance doesn't exist to help people who breakdown in their driveways, its only for people ON THE ROAD.

3) They aren't going to run around all night after me jumping my battery. They would only come out once in a night, they weren't there at my beck and call.

4) Roadside Assistance is obligated to help me, because they signed a contract to say that they would, but really, where I live, it would be better if I could call them between 9 and 5 Monday to Friday.

 

So really, essentially, what I have is FREE Roadside Assistance, if I break down on the side of the road in the city between 9 and 5  Monday to Friday.

After all, WHERE I LIVE, how dare I expect the same service as someone who lives in suburban Melbourne! What was I thinking!!!!

These are some things that I heard during the coverage last night of the paralympic games:

 

"She's like a little doll, those arms just keep going round and round"

The above was in regards to a dwarf lady who was swimming (in a heat I think) last night. She was winning, by quite a bit.

 

"Bar-ber black sheep"

In regards to an afro american man playing basketball.

 

 

I'm sure there are more golden olympic moments... have you heard any?

So I have a few comments to make about this stripper anally raping / sexually assaulting the best man at the bucks night...

1) If you have any of the following: Cocaine / Speedballs / Rancid Strippers / Sex at your bucks night, chances are you aren't mature enough, or indeed committed enough to get married.

2) If you have groomsmen who organise on your behalf any of the above, then you clearly have not done a thorough enough job of weeding out the dickheads from your wedding invites list.

3) A person who is prepared to nude up in front of a room full of his/her peers and simulate a sex act with a person wearing a strap on penis is probably not a great candidate for best friend. Unless of course you want a best friend who will occasionally come with benefits. And stripper syphillus.

 

That being said, one can't help but sympathise with the alleged victim in this alleged case.

I mean, now the whole world knows what a freak he is. Do I think that he deserved an unexpected jab in the date? No. Should he have forseen the possibility of the skanky drunken naked lady with the large strap on rubber penis jabbing him in the date when he kneeled in front of her naked and lubricated??? YES.

Yes, yes he should. I mean, what else was she going to do with it? Use it as a whisk to make a souffle? I don't think so. Perhaps they were oiled up for some other, unknown reason. Perhaps it was totally innocent!

Perhaps he was oiling her up so that she could make her attempt to be the first naked stripper to swim the Tasman Strait with three legs, and she dropped her contact and they both bent down to pick it up at the same time and whoopsy! Poke city.

Whatever the reason, and in all seriousness now, we don't know exactly what happened, there is only one thing for certain:

That stripper was one chunky lady, and I bet it hurt more when she jobbed him than it did when she nobbed him...  

Or are there some REALLY HOT athletes competing this year in the paralympics??

Exhibit One:

 Mmm. Messy hair, nice smile, nice.

 

Exhibit Two:

Oh Sass, you're so superficial. You only like the ones with messy hair and cute smiles.

NOT TRUE!!!

I give you...

 

Exhibit Three:

Clean cut much?

(But you just know from that sexy little smirk that he's a spanker...)

;-)  ;-)  ;-)  ;-)  ;-)

Moving right along...

 

Exhibit Four (the final one):

He's a swimmer.

I very nearly made a wet joke, but I'm way too classy for that.

A-hem.

 

Anyway, all I'm saying is that its nice to see these (hot) young men - and of course the very talented ladies too - competing in Beijing. I have no time at all for the Olympics, but I have spent each of the past three nights staying up far too late to watch Paralympic events.

The coverage is way better too just quietly.

Its like the regular Olympics coverage is always on the sniff for a hard-luck, overcoming adversity type story. You just don't hear any of those at the Paralypics. They just tell it straight, this is my disability, and this is my sport. Then they get out there and go hard. No wankery. No huge egos. Excellent.

What I'm trying to say is that I'm totally not just watching to have a perve. I'm not. Ok?

So I've decided to come back again! The other place just didn't work out. I believe that it happens a lot - bloggers get the wonderlust, then realise, Dorothy-Style, that there is no place like home!

So let me tell you about my new fella.

Or not so new fella as the case may be. He's been around for a while now, but I haven't. So he's new to me, not so new to you I guess

(My apologies to Sambo who has already heard all this!)

His name shalt be Ellvis, with two L's here so as to confuse that blinking search engine which might reveal us to suspicious boyfriend types looking for their girlfriends blogs and insider information on what makes her tick etc.

That is his nickname in real life, and the reason that I avoided meeting him for so long. My dear girlfriend and her husband kept trying to set us up, but I was imagining this greasy, chubby, slimy old guy with big badly dyed hair and half a hamburger hanging from his mouth.

So eventually they lured / nagged me into attending an evening hotplate centred al fresco dining experience. When I arrived I walked in and viewed a very attractive, quite well built young man in the kitchen. "Holy crappoli!" I expressed with all of the eloquence at my command; "Who is that gorgeous creature?"

"Thats Ellvis!"

Mmm.

So we've been on and then we were off for a period, but we're back on again now. During the time we were off, we were really on, if I'm going to be completely honest with you.

I mean, I did tell people that we were just friends... but we were friends with benefits that can make a girls head spin and twirl and make other parts of that same girl sing better than any of the current crop of Australian Idols... oh yeah.

Uhm, where were we?

Little distracted... lol

Right, Ellvis. So we're on like donkey kong now. And its beautiful. Its effortless. It was hard to get used to, but I'm really enjoying his kindness and how well he treats me.

Life is pretty good.

Mr. D. is still a dick. Thats a given though. He actually SENT BACK the gifts that Nicky purchased for him for Fathers Day. What kind of person does that??? She was crushed.

SHE is not allowed near me, thanks to the beautiful legal system in this fine country of ours. Thank god for laws against being an utter dangerous nutjob.

They've bred again - another mouth to feed, another bogan name. Ho Hum. This one has a penis, so maybe that'll be an end to it. Maybe not. I don't think she knows what causes it - Whoops! I'm preggers again! She's like a way less classy version of Britney Spears.

God its good to be back. I wouldn't have EVER written that at the other place!!