Banned From Parraween Street… FOR LIFE!!

After being involved in yet another case of public mischief in Parraween Street on Saturday evening, it appears Miss Contradiction and myself may be banned from the street for life.

Miss Contradiction got wind earlier in the week that there was going to be an invaluable celebrity stalking opportunity on Saturday. Apparently some movie was premiering there or something. The details aren’t important. What is important is that an opportunity presented for us to make a spectacle of ourselves. We seized the opportunity with both hands.

We rocked up there about six, both already plastered. I had been drinking at the new and improved Kirribilli RSL all afternoon and gambling with Kelvs (as a side note, I took fixed odds on Zipping for the Cup tomorrow). Miss Contradiction had apparently been at the hairdressers all afternoon, but still somehow managed to be drunk.

So we stopped in at the BWS to grab some booze to take with us. Miss C insisted on buying some fucking fancy bottle of wine, despite me pointing out the logistics of drinking wine in the middle of the street. Wouldn’t something in individual bottles prove more appropriate for drinking in public? You’d think so. Miss Contradiction instead asked the bottleshop staff if we could have tasting glasses – you know, those little plastic ones. They couldn’t find any so instead presented us with two big, heavy, glass beer mugs that came with some promotion.

We wandered across the street and hung out with some old people, who clearly wanted us to get lost. I am getting tired of typing, so to sum up:

• Miss Contradiction tripped over one of our brand new mugs and smashed it everywhere.
• 80-year-old Kelvs drove past in his car to see what all the fuss was about and we started woohing and cheering like he was a celeb.
  
• There was a cute dog called Oscar who was excited about all the action who we were terrorising.
• I started yelling at Big Brother evictees to “get back in the house, we don’t want you here”.
• When Cate Blanchett arrived, I held up the dog and yelled “Hey Cate, do you want an Oscar”.

Then we pissed off back to the hole and ended up having Absinthe shots and more wine. Not surprisingly, I was passed out by 7.30pm.

Yes, we are very classy people.

BREAKING NEWS!!!

Someone is Interdork stalking me!! Well it's not really Interdork stalking because it's via SMS, but it's still the most exciting thing that's happened to me since... well... since the last time I was stalked (when Jason threatened to sic the Bandidos onto me).

I have narrowed the list of suspects to:

* Jason
* Lobo
* Jason
* Andrew
* A man in a chicken suit
* Miss Contradiction

Who could it be? Only time will tell.

Can't We Find Someone More Worthwhile To Stalk?

Saturday night Miss Contradiction and myself decided we were thoroughly sick of Cremorne and its surrounds so we treated ourselves to a night on the town. What's that I hear you say? You crossed the bridge? Well yes, we did.

We ended up stumbling into the Soho bar in Kings X, largely tempted by the two-for-one cocktails (delicious, by the way). So far so good, but that's where the night started falling apart. For independent of each other, we both started to make off-chops phone calls: she to Jason and me to Bad Smell, both inviting them out. Finally we 'fessed up to each other about what we had done and berated ourselves for indulging such losers.

Well they turned up in about two seconds flat - just goes to show how desperate the pair of them must be - and my, wasn't Jason in fine form. Bad Smell and I left for a few minutes to relive one of our favourite pastimes from when we were a couple - cruising down Darlinghurst Road and chatting to hookers - and when we returned Jason was already attempting to stick his tongue down the throat of (a very inebriated) Miss Contradiction.

Bad Smell also made a comment to Jason about how 'well rested' he looks after his paternity leave. HELLO?? WTF?? WELL RESTED?? DO YOU MEAN FAT?? And come on, are you supposed to look well rested after having a child? Aren't you supposed to be frazzled, otherwise you're not doing it properly?? PARENTAL LEAVE IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A FRICKING DAY SPA, FFS!!!

Other highlights of the night:

* I was wearing my blue Shakuhachi balloon sash dress (see attached picture). The first thing Bad Smell said to me was some lascivious comment about my boobs. No hello, no nothing. Clown.

* I had forgotten how incredibly boring Jason is. I kept trying to escape his monotonous, droning conversation. Once when I got stuck with him he made some comment about how he 'wanted to drink more but couldn't'. I assumed he was asking me for money so I told him I couldn't lend him any. He then jangled his car keys in front of his face to explain that he meant he was driving, then wandered off to buy another beer.

* When I politely asked him how the baby he was, he answered dismissively 'it eats, shits and sleeps'. He then proceeded to tell me how much he hates the name Jennifer and how he was pushing for either my name or my sister's name. He has always had a morbid fascination with my family.

* Bad Smell proceeded to tell me at one stage how he has been trying to get some 20-year-old into bed. I went ballistic at him and told him not to tell me such things. After all, I spare him the gruesome details of my (non-existent) love life.

At about 1am we decided they were boring and annoying so we simply got up and left. We decided to drop into the hole on the way home for a quick drink. It was busy but there was no one we know there except for this weird guy who works at the Mosman RSL so we left.

Then when we were at home Jason rang Miss Contradiction looking for a root. He had 'somehow' ended up in Balmain, his old picking up ground. He asked her to text him the address so she told him the street name without a block number or apartment number. HA!

Then we sent out a couple of annoying text messages to people and passed out.

The end.

Happy (Insert Generic Religious Holiday Here)

Well I have a busy day ahead of me (of drinking) and will be incommunicado for much of the day.

There's nothing like a good ol' four-day bender to celebrate the birth/death/marriage of God or whatever the hell it is this holiday is about.

I must find some new stalking victims this weekend. Any applicants can contact the stalking phone (number is to your right).

I will be most disappointed if there are no applicants.

In the meantime, here's something to brighten up your day (well at least my day)

Stalking Update 01.04.07

Here's a list of people Miss Contradiction and I were stalking last night whilst off our faces, both on the stalking phone and in person:

* Andrew
* Jason
* Bad Smell
* Kylie Mole
* Red Blob
* Panda
* Licensee
* Random 20 year olds
* The guy we thought was Robbie several weeks ago (also found out it wasn't actually Robbie)

One of them has to give in and sleep with me eventually.

New Stalking Adventures

Today I succesfully stalked a rather delectable pair of red stiletto's. Not the ones pictured mind you, that's just some random shoe from Google more suited to some skanky ho.

I have had my eye on these scrumptious examples of female footware for sometime but was unwilling to pay full price.

Today, my dear bloggers, after 3 weeks of waiting and stalking patiently, the price was reduced to a more reasonable amount. The joy and elation I felt was akin to some of the more memorable sexual encounters I have had in the (now distant) past.

I mst pick up this weekend otherwise I am certain to become a destitute shoe addict.

In other news, the hole is still a hole. But then we all knew that didn't we...

I'm a Loser Baby, So Why Don't You Kill Me?

For some reason, after Jason told both myself and Town Bike to ‘Lose his number’, he randomly decides to start stalking us on Friday night. Town Bike gave me the heads up that he was on the prowl so I left our spiritual home and promptly passed out.


I awake at 5.30 am to check my phone and was greeted with 12 text messages and 3 voice mail messages.
Text messages read as follows;


12.06 am Pick up fuck ya stupid
12.09 am Get off the phone
12.09 am Off
12.11 am I am jumping in a cab
12.14 am At least pick up?
12.18 am If your (sic) there, your there. Whatever.
12.20 am Ok so u wont pick up. What’ve I done?
12.39 am Ok u fucken hate me. Whatever. Im here. Just wanna say hi. Im not that bad?
12.59 am Should I stalk you?? Loosen up
1.05 am Pick up (Miss Contradiction). Do you really hate me?
1.11am If u hate me I’ll leave. But I didn’t think you did. I can at least tell you, if you cared. Im downstairs.
1.18 am Im here. Just wanna make peace. Really like and miss you. Can disapear (sic) if preferred but not desired. SAY SOMETHING damn it
1.26 am Ok so were not even mates. My fault. Sorry take care.


Yes Jason, I do hate you. Yes you are that bad. Yes please, disappear – it is certainly my preference. Permanently if possible.


Notice how the tone quickly goes from slightly abusive to embarrassingly pathetic?

Falling Apart Already

Miss Contradiction and I got extremely smashed last night. They let us into the SoSo Bar for free. Clearly the grand plans of a cover charge have already been destroyed.

We also witnessed one of the in-ceiling speakers falling down. Already. I offered to fix it for them but they took the unusual approach of sticking it back in with Blu-tack.

Jason also started stalking and harassing both of us. More on that on Monday.

I checked my old phone and don't have the video of Jason. I don't know why I ever imagined I would have kept it. But I did find a picture of Jason asleep on the couch at Bad Smell's place (I can't believe I lived in that dump for a year), wrapped in an Australian flag to match his blue Good Guys' shirt. He works at the Alexandria store in the whitegoods department if anyone is interested in hunting him down.

If I run over him in a car, do you think Bob Geldof will bother to organise a benefit concert for him? Because I don't want him making any money out of my hatred for him.

Ideas For An 'S' Theme Party

Well apparently we are all invited to an 's' theme party on New Years' Eve. Miss Contradiction and I have been racking our brains thinking of things we can come dressed as starting with the letter 's'. Actually Miss Contradiction has been racking her brain, I'm still in shock that I was actually invited somewhere.

There are some obvious choices for an 's' theme party:

* Slapporn (come with no pants and no underwear and you're set).
* Stalker (we can just come as ourselves, or someone with a flowerpot attached to their bum).
* Slut (see above).
* Screw loose (see above).
* Smurf (no thanks).
* Senior citizen (yeah, like I really need to try and make myself look OLDER on New Years' Eve, which is prime picking up time. Good suggestion Miss Contradiction! Not).
* Smacked out (note to self: consult Canada with regards to costume inspiration for this one).

I give up. I think I'll just come as a slut.

Cyber Stalking - The New Black?

When you think about it, real stalking requires much time and effort for both the stalker and stalkee. All that time sitting around on flower pots, going through garbage, not to mention the expense of all those phone calls and bailing yourself out of jail. For the stalkee, much effort has to be put in to hiding from said stalker and possibly having to relocate. Also having to change one’s phone number and having to go to the police for an AVO.

Cyber stalking on the other hand requires not much effort for either party. You can do it from the comfort of your lounge room or office, requires little outlay and is relatively harmless. It’s a win win situation.

So, to make Town Bike’s cyber stalker a little but more comfortable, I have provided a cyber flower pot for his/her sitting pleasure.

I Love My Stalker

I can't believe I have a stalker. It's so exciting. It's always been an ambition of mine to have a stalker, and now I do. It's like Christmas has come early.

Love your work, nameless stalker.

In other news, I am wearing my favourite blue wifebeater today. Yes, I am channelling Pete. Do you know that in the seven or so years I've known him, I don't think I've ever seen him out of a blue wifebeater and a flannie.

I even have a photo of myself and Pete together wearing the same wifebeater.

I wonder if he has multiple blue wifebeaters and flannies, or if it's the same one.

I guess it's one of those mysteries we'll never know the answer to.

I am hungover from too many champagnes at the pub. Have a nice day.

Top 10 Reasons Why Cremorne Really IS The New Black

10. More pubs and bottle shops per capita than any other suburb on the lower North Shore.
9. The punch-ons and stalkings flow free and fast.
8. More faux bisexuality and lesbianism than you can poke a stick at.
7. $5 cocktails at the RSL.
6. The women are loose 'n' easy.
5. Uncle Pete - need I say more?
4. The footpaths are quite adequate.
3. No matter where you look, you can always find some idiot to keep you entertained.
2. The disabled toilets at the Metropole.

And the number 1 reason why Cremorne is the new black is...

1. BECAUSE JASON DOESN'T LIVE ANYWHERE NEAR HERE!!

HURRAY FOR LIFE!!!