Well we went through four dust storms, 3 lightning storms and a bloody heap of rain that pissed down like the drunk at closing time, but we made it to Queensland!
The beautiful sunshine state has done nothing but rain and storm though since we got here and today I had to type up a news article at work about there being fucking flood warnings issued across the so-called 'sunshine state' and northern NSW (good, drown you bastards in Wee Waa!!! Mwahaha). So cheers to you Queensland for the welcome.
I came up here to getaway from the freakin' Melbourne weather!
But, enough whinging, the settling in has been good. Mum was driven out to Brissy on Saturday where she caught the plane back to Melbourne and left me and Maggie here to deal with the banana fuckers by ourselves (kidding, kidding, kidding- the area I'm in grows apples).
Monday morning I found myself back in the 'cadet journalist/office-Jill-of-all-trades' chair where I spent the day trying to just stay awake after spending the previous two months going to bed at 4am and waking up at 1pm. Noice.
And, (to just whinge...or rather.....comment... yes, let's call it 'comment from recent observations and occurrences') I had to try my hardest to avoid......let's call him 'The Rash'; an annoying lil shit who I met last time I was up here working at the newspaper and we became sort of work amigos (the key word being 'amigos'- completely platonic ones too!). Before I'd even left town to head home once the two weeks was up I was getting frequent, pointless text messages that at first harmlessly began as 'Whatcha up to' (never any question mark too- which really really shitted me), which is fine unless you are sending that same thing every fucking day.
Then the messages became, 'Send me a picture of yourself. Pretty plz' I chose to ignore that one; I'm quite tolerant of weird people unless they get personal.
Soon the messages ran like 'You always been so cute' (note well- No question mark! Wtf!? Rahhh!) Then 'What ya doing beautiful' (no question mark! That nearly shitted me more than the creepy message itself).
I replied to none of these and was dreading seeing 'The Rash', but Monday arvo he waltzes in to speak to Deb while I keep my back to him (my skin crawling with the thought of him just looking at the back of me) furiously typing so we won't talk to me. Well he didn't, but like a bad smell he kept hanging around my work station crapping on like chicken diarrhoea to others while I imagined throwing my desk top computer across the room to crack his thick skull in half.
You see, the difference between Redneck guys 'wooing skills' (if you will) and normal guys flirting is Rednecks see anything without a dick as their birthright and nothing is out of their lead and if they can't fuck it they'll just tell their mates what they'd like to do to the unlucky victim of their attention until blue in the face and they can no longer differentiate between the fantasies in their small brains and reality, before moving onto the next creature that's technically classified as the opposite sex.
So there's a strong likelihood he could walk into work tomorrow leering at me through his dopey eyes and thick lids and mouth like the back end of a staffy and blubber out (in that fucking horrible bogan lilt- not a country lilt- that's attractive- a bogan-'what's a book?' lilt) that he'll buy me a beer at the pub that night, to which I shall respond in kind with a cricket bat across his low-gorilla-like-brow.
I want to kung-fu his Red neck arse.
*Deep Breath........count to ten*
Sorry, I'm a little wound up tonight cause I miss my Local.....it's Tuesday night and the jukebox and pool tables will be in full swing by now. Along with the bundy on tap flowing for $3 a pot. Ohh heaven in a night. The price you pay to be adventerous.
Oh woe woe woe ya whinging bitch. haha