Take two – tales of the fart kind

Ok, so upon a second reading of my last post I decided it was boring. So, since I'm stuck inside on account of my allergies being recalcitrant turds, I thought I might try again with something slightly less self-centred.

So, without further ado, here is the tale of the time I farted at my sister Michi.

When we were young, our Dad used to fart a lot. Actually, he farted a lot regardless of our ages. He would do things like fart as he was walking – tilted up on one leg to facilitate easy release of said fart. Or tip onto one cheek whilst sitting. Or say 'ooh, can anyone smell hot chips?' and laugh when we took in a big voluntary whiff. Needless to say, I was not fond of this habit and I used to complain that it was unfair that we had to smell the air from his bowel (yes, I actually said that).

So, whenever I had to fart (rare, in those days, not so rare now) I would hide it from my Dad, lest he get on a high horse and proclaim that it was ok for him to do it, cos I did it too.

Pause there – skip to the other side of the story. When Michi was a kid, she often used to crack it with a family member, or several. Her way of letting us know that she was mad was to sit in the lounge room in the dark, fuming. What she didn't know was that none of us gave a shit. She'd just sit in there and stew, until she got bored or Mum called her to do something.

Back on track. One night I was descending the stairs when I realised I had a monster brewing. I reached the bottom step, walked down the hall, passed the lounge room and saw Dad in the kitchen. I realised I had to hide my impending fart. I still don't know why I did it this way, but I stopped and backed in to the lounge room. I bent over, propped myself up with my hands on my thighs, took a deep breath and ledderrip. No joke, I even went 'aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh' as I did it.

...You know sometimes when someone's staring at your back and you didn't know they were there but you can, like, feel their stare? Yeah well that happened to me at that moment. Still bent at the waist, I turned my head and there was Michi, directly behind me, sitting on the couch, arms folded, seething with anger, shaking slightly.

She dobbed, but Dad was too busy cracking up to care. Even after years had passed, he would giggle at the thought of Michi, sitting there, thinking that I was purposely farting at her to rub it in her face that nobody cared about her little spat.

Ok, so also a quick Zine update: We're done! Look out for it in the Zine shop (Format) – 15 Peel St Adelaide, it's called Hair Pie DIY, the first episode is free so check it out! We're really wanting feedback!

Last night we were talking about how we're taking a censored version to Egypt and were talking about what we would censor and Kat said 'just write about hummus and Pyramids and shit'. This is why I love her, always with the solutions.

Sweet!

Tx

Heroes in a half shell...

Right. Down to business. Christmas business. Today I finished my Christmas shopping. I cheated a tiny bit, cos I didn't have that much to do anyway, and we had a family Christmas in November. But nonetheless I have, as of today, finished. I bought the last present at West Lakes, which is where I saw a man whip out a genuine hair comb and run it through what I can only describe as a very bushy rat's tail crossed with a mullet. It kind of looked like a squirrel's tail actually. A westie with hair grooming in mind... So in mind that he carries a comb with him...
Anyway, so Christmas has become very confusing for me. I have become an atheist. I have my reasons. Now, let's get one thing straight – I HATE arguing about religion. I HATE being preached to about religion. Those points together mean that I will never try to push my lack of religion onto others, or argue about the choice I have made. It's just the way it is now. I also don't begrudge anyone having faith in anything (although I do believe that having faith shouldn't cost money or mean killing yourself or anyone else) in fact it's nice to believe in something. Just because I don't believe in a/any god/s doesn't mean I don't believe in stuff. I believe in lots of stuff: aliens, ghosts, love, Oprah and the power of positivity. Oh – and curses. I'm not messing with that shit.
Believe it or not, being an atheist isn't just about saying 'I don't believe in god anymore'. For me, it's harder than that. There were things I used to do, even though I never told anyone. I used to pray sometimes. I would pray for someone I knew that was sick or in trouble, or if I drove past a cross by the side of the road surrounded in flowers. I would even throw out a Happy Birthday message to ol' JC each Dec 25^th. Being an atheist means I can't do that anymore, it's all or nothing, that's how it works. It's been hard to get rid of those old habits. Now I just send out some mega positive vibes to people that need it and just resort to plain old hope I guess.
So what do I do about Christmas? It's all about the birth of a dude I don't believe existed, but everyone around me celebrates – my friends, my family. I gotta admit – I don't wanna say goodbye to Christmas. I know that sounds pretty petulant – like I said, it's all or nothing, right? So I've been thinking lots about it. I don't wanna be the only scrooge in my personal network. So, my solution is that I'll just treat it like a family day. Christmas is now my official day to make an effort to be with my family and eat shitloads of food. It makes people happy and if they're happy then so am I. I also think it has a lot to do with my Dad. He LOVED Christmas and every year tried to make it awesome. He would be disappointed enough that I'm an atheist, but it would kill him (if he were alive) if I stopped celebrating Christmas.
That brings me to my next point – kids. I am already looking forward to next year when I can holiday with Snowy and my nephew, cos that's the first year he will be able to really understand Christmas and Santa and stuff. So... what about when I have a kid? I already know that I would never deprive a child of that joy. So, I guess Christmas has its talons in me pretty deep and all I can do is get drunk and roll with it.
Onto other news related to Christmas – wastage of money. Ho-ly BALLS do I waste some money! The other night I was leaving work and parked beside my car was the car I had sold to a mate of mine. It was my first car. It was a Daewoo. First mistake right there. When heaps and heaps of people say that something is shit, it probably is. Nonetheless I bought it. The saddest part (actually who am I kidding, there are too many 'saddest parts' to count) is that these days, I'm seeing ads for brand new little cars – good brands like Holden and Ford for like $14000. I bought my daweoo for $20000. Talk about all-time bonehead moves. It was in shitty condition by the time I sold it – a list of things as big as my arm needing fixing, some drunken douche had keyed it and it was filled with dog hair. So, I cut a deal with the kid I sold it to. 'You can have it in the condition it is in now for $500'. That's a $19500 loss. I'm a savvy businesswoman, for sure. Would you believe he complains about the dog hair? The reason I noticed it the other night is cos he has fixed a BMW badge to it, on the boot where the old Daewoo symbol used to be. I guess when you buy a car for $500, you can stick shit all over it and who cares, it was only $500. He should stick sea shells on it like in that episode of the Simpsons. Pondering this epic loss led me to remember when I went to Canada the first time to play inline hockey for Australia. The first thing I did was go to a skate shop and buy a new pair cos I didn't like mine. $500 bucks later I had a pair of Mission D2s. I played decently in the tournament – I liked them, but in the end I wore them about 10-12 times and never again. I later sold them for $200. I should just never have money. Perhaps I will move and live on the land, growing what I eat. I'll have to make a TV though, and I don't think I'm that smart.
In slightly more awesome news – our zine is almost ready to hit the streets! I'm super pumped! The editorial committee (that's the only committee) is meeting tomorrow to put it together! We even have some colour pages! There are 40 pages in it! Some of the articles include a terribly accurate poem on leggins, a movie review, a very informative account of the reindeer and even an erotic tale. The cover is TACTILE. So, if you would like a copy – email us at hair_pie_DIY@hotmail.com and we will arrange one for you! I'm bringing some copies overseas! We're going WORLDWIDE BABYYYYY!!!

So I'm not going to write much about our holiday yet, otherwise I won't shut up about it, but I will share a couple of funny things that I'm looking forward to.

-Kat thinks that we can get nacho hats at Madison Square Garden. I scoffed but secretly hope we can. Failing that, just nachos.

-Madison Square garden.

-Sydney Crosby at Madison Square Garden.

-My friends in London, Ontario, I miss them so much!! The person I can't wait to see the most is my mate (let's call her) Wik. She is the coolest Canadian ever and I reckon in the top 5 Mums on the planet. She reminded me today of the Christmas I spent there with her once – we stayed up until 5am wrapping presents so we wound all the clocks back 3 hours so that the kids would think it was earlier and we could get more sleep! Man were they pissed when they found out! In hindsight, it was really mean but it's still funny. Her kids are older now so I don't think they would fall for it again.

-Paris again. This time I can speak a bit. Last time I read a phrase book on the Eurostar and then Snowy got carried away with my abilities and asked me to ask a salesperson about kinds of cheese and if she could toast something. Also I'm going to go nuts on perfume. Yes, I wear perfume. I'm one of those pretentious motherf***ers who only wears expensive shit too. Cheap crappola gives me a headache.

-Egypt. I might have to sell Kat but whatever gets us inside Tutankhamen's tomb...

Alright, that's probably enough. Last thing I want to share is something that happened the other day on Facebook. My mate tagged me in this pic. When I saw it, it was midnight, I had just finished work, I was waaay overtired and I actually cracked up at it. Well, I cracked up at the pic and the first comment:

Facebook user: 'that is so funny I love the turtles'

That just set me off, and I honestly don't know if it's funny to anyone else or just me in that state of mind – but what else is there in that pic to love?! The sand? The foam? Then my mate who was tagged as Raphael commented:

'Hey where's my other sai? WHAT IS THIS???'

And I snorted again, I could imagine her rage. Shortly after this, a mate in America used the pic for herself and tagged me in the post. Some douche wrote this:

Facebook user: 'I hate to be that guy, but yeah... the Ninja Turtles aren't sea turtles. They would most likely be some type of fresh water turtle. Thanks.'

*blank 'I'm looking at you this way cos you're a fucktard' face* THEY'RE ANTHROPOMORPHIC, ASSHOLE!!! IT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER WHAT THEY WERE!! THIS PIC IS FUNNY AND YOU ARE RUINING IT!! Incidentally, they were red eared sliders, but I'm not telling him that. Pompous git.

Then, today at the same mall where I saw the squirrel-tail-hair combing I found this on the ground:

Omen. Boom.

Alright, that's really it this time, thanks for your patience and merry christmas to all!
Tx
P.S. Just kidding – I don't believe in Oprah ;)