amazing adventures with nikki.

mother: you still weren't home & you didn't pick up your cell-phone. i thought you were lying on the street somewhere & the police would come to the door
...& i thought about how, when i'd answer the door, they'd see me in my peacoat & pyjamas

thanks infinitely, mom.
haw haw

colder days are not kind to me - my nose is home to compellingly large volumes of snot & my throat's dryness puts the sahara to shame. true story.

yesterday, i waddled out the back door, buckling under the weight of my basket of freshly laundered goodness, when the the door slammed shut.

upon realising that my key was in the inside of the door, i subsequently panicked.
when panicking didn't lead to miracles or any sort of spontaneous magical powers during the moments of duress, i decided to do the practical thing & hang my laundry to dry.

the act of hanging laundry eventually comes to pass & it was then that i decided to panic again :D

ran around the backyard like a diseased cow & chewed through branches & pounced on critters & climbed over the (locked) fence. (note that some portions of the last sentence may or may not have been embellished)

eventually clawed my way into the street & harassed a neighbor & technology felt lovely against my ears & dad eventually came bearing salvation in the form of house key.


the health department is apparently raising the price of mixed alcoholic drinks in an attempt to combat underage binge drinking.
i don't think it'll be very effective, but personally, it doesn't concern me.

& now a pic-spam from when we went to the vineyards:


hello to my ample readership of three people!

real life's been eventful, to say the least.
i've worked 40+ hrs in the past week & i'm starting to abhor the sight of newbies & lettuce leaves & the mop-bucket.

rose, the supervisor at work, who wears dreadlocks & intimidation like a fashion statement, wrote me an endearing list on a long roll of receipt paper called:

reason #4 - "you bleed too much when i stab you"
reason #7 - "there are too many pies in the oven"

i kept the list very close to my heart, otherwise known as my bag, & i told rose that the note may make an appearance in a future video.

oh, visual representations of my fifteen seconds of fame lame from last week:

the channel seven spiel was a whirlwind of confusion, assuming that whirlwinds are actually confused. i got a call during my lunchbreak regarding a potential interview & channel seven apparated outside work within an hr's time.

obviously there are YouTube notables at much higher levels (of subscribers / charm) but i was most accessible in terms of geography & willingness.
channel seven used footage of nat simultaneously with the duration of the voiceover that said, "babyporridge has been on youtube for ten months".


because that's not a stuff-up or anything.
& there are lots of angry souls over the fact that channel seven sourced videos off YouTube without consent or acknowledgment, & i've blahblahed lots about this now, so you can just go watch it yourself.

i'm tired.

2nd post of the night.

i consume a lot of water whenever i go to the gym.
this is not a complaint because hydration is definitely something i need to get more romantically involved with.

BUUUUT, 2 litres of water in your system, coupled with waiting time for (delayed!) public transport is not the most ideal of circumstances. oh my lord. i could feel the kidney stones with buck-teeth forming & their malice & wow the following pee upon stumbling into the house was 2 joys & a half.

LESSON LEARNED: bladder control is so not cool.

in other news, deadlines & other priorities have been dancing very closely with me for a while now, & i have a massive youtube subscription backlog to attend to...

OH & christopher masterson (of 'malcolm in the middle' fame) was kind enough to visit me in my dreams the other night. awkward. we've never really spoken before & he was always quite cocky to me - never acknowledging my presence when i send a hello his way through the t.v. screen. but in dream-form, he was refreshingly nice.

(yay, pixellation for the win.)

in lieu of the many more blah blahs i have in my head that are fighting to turn into words for the digital medium, i leave with a picture:

am guessing maybe 230 calories of delectable nutrition right there.


i don't think it classifies as polite to stick a fist down someone's throat & re-arrange the heart, the bladder & the uterus.

having said that, no-one has been 'impolite' to me as of late, it just sure as hell feels like it. MY HEART IS NOT WHERE IT SHOULD BE.

to say i am devastated makes a mockery of understatements.
this is where i disclose my fanaticism for 'So You Think You Can Dance (Australia)' & my subsequent fangirling(/lust) for Henry & Jack.


bonnie said it best, "you are still my hurricane henry".