Jason, Nautica 'Get Their Stalk On'

Well once again the pick up artists formerly known as Jason and Nautica (okay they are still known by those names) managed to infiltrate the weekend.

Jason's stalking program kicked off on Friday night, or more specifically Saturday morning. At 5.30am. I woke up at around 6am with a terrible (physical) pain in my stomach and little was I to know that soon that physical pain in the gut was going to be joined by a metaphorical one. Yes, I checked my phone and Jason had called half an hour before and left a voice mail message. Nothing profound, just some loud music in the background and him droning my name down the phone line. Later that morning I discovered he had been stalking Miss Contradiction too. A few things:

1. Does he really think he is going to get a root out of someone at 5.30 in the morning, which clearly signals he is making the call because all other options have failed,
2. Why is he calling me at all because he will never, and I repeat never, get a root out of me (he was probably calling me in the hopes I was with Miss Contradiction and would encourage her to sleep with him. Yeah, whatever).

Saturday I got drunk and wandered up to the Oaks in the evening. When everyone else went home I was not ready to go as I was off my face so I ended up hanging around the hole for an hour or two staring at a wall. That is one of my favourite things to do when off my face. But I digress. On my way home at about 11.30pm, maybe midnight, I decided it would be a good time to start stalking random people with text messages. Now my phone doesn't store outgoing messages so I can't be sure of exactly what I wrote but from memory it was something about shoes and sex. Riveting stuff I'm sure.

One other thing my phone doesn't store anymore is people's names. Well it probably does but over the last six months I've become too lazy to do so. Basically I have a whole heap of numbers with no names attached. I rely on working out who the person is by the tone of their messages. So I was sending out random messages about shoes and sex to numbers and I have NFI who the owners of those numbers are. Probably not such a good idea in retrospect but... oh well.

Well actually I do know who owned one of the numbers. Nautica. I could tell because the next morning (I passed out about 30 seconds after writing the messages) I had seven - yes SEVEN - return text messages from Nautica. God he makes a fool of himself. He was writing all this pornographic shit to me about various body parts of mine and even some corny crap about me being a 'real woman'. Was there ever any doubt... I mean, did I ever try and pass myself off as a blow-up doll?? And isn't 'real woman' usually code for 'fat'??? Jesus Christ Nautica, way to make a gal feel special.

Thinking about Nautica actually makes me feel slightly ill. I wish he would accidentally set fire to his beard one night then be so distracted by the burning beard that he falls down a hole and gets stung by a bee.

I spent most of Sunday both vomiting and haemorrhaging and generally being sick and cranky. Probably wasn't such a good idea to binge drink on Saturday. Stupid Prednisone. Hope it starts working soon.

The end.

WARNING!!

Warning to everyone who is planning on coming into contact with me over the next 3 weeks!!

I am back on that charming corticosteriod Prednisone for out-of-control Crohn's Colitis and am about to have a psychotic break thanks to the mood swings and insomnia!!

SOMETIMES I WISH THEY'D JUST TAKE MY BLOODY INTESTINE OUT (pun intended)!!

REEEAAARGHH

Perhaps I can use my mood for good instead of evil and beat someone up at the pub this week. Perhaps even Robbie if you're all lucky.

Weekend Wrap Up

Well it certainly was another fun weekend (and by fun, I mean drunken).

It all started when Miss Contradiction and I started drinking at the spiritual home on Friday afternoon. Somehow several hours magically passed and we were at the Blues Point Hotel, we haven't been there since they've reopened it after the fire. We were leering drunkenly at strangers and I started reminiscing about the time I had a bad Crohn's Disease episode in the toilets three or so years ago (not a pretty story).

Eventually one of our many nemesises put in a surprise appearance (let's call him Missingham because that's his name) so we made a hasty exit back to the spiritual hole.

Once again several hours magically passed and all of a sudden Naroomina loomed up. Miss Contradiction decided to desert us for 'someone who shall remain nameless' so we ended up stumbling around until the early hours stalking Will. I tried to woo him unsuccessfully by showing him an old video card of my parents I keep in my wallet (don't ask). Naroomina was mainly starstruck and felt like she was living in the pages of a Dolly magazine circa 1998.

We also had another brush with fame of sorts. Some bald Irish guy tried to chat us up when we were lurking downstairs and claimed to be the brother of some guy who won Australian Idol last year. My first response was "Who?" because I don't watch the show. Then when I realised who he was talking about I said that I hated his brother and he was an awful singer. Amazingly the guy kept standing there like we owed him something. I owe him nothing, I don't vote for that stupid show and even if I did it wouldn't be for the bald Irish guy whose name I don't know.

Saturday night Miss Contradiciton piked so Naroomina and I headed into the Cross for a change of scene. We ended up at the Bourbon where we got chatted up by an 18 year old whose opening line was 'how old are you ladies' then 'where do you live' followed by 'I'm not trying to get into your pants'. Smooth.

We headed back to the spiritual home for some more Will stalking but unfortunately he was in the piano bar and as we both hate the piano bar (or the dry cleaners as I like to call it, as it's the best place to pick up a suit) there was not much stalking to be had. As there were no other minor celebrities on hand to stalk and harass we decided to call it a night and head home.

The end.