SEPTEMBER 8TH, 2003: CROSS-DRESSERS, PMS & MY FAT ARSE
So my fat arse should be at the gym right now and following that a stint in the class room. Instead I took the midget to the creche and put my fat lazy arse back on the bus and came home. Why? Because it should be, or close to , that time of the month and I have this feeling that it is going to come before 3pm, which is when I would get on the bus home. Why that should be a problem? Because I failed to put underwear on my fat arse this morning and I am only carrying a sanitary napkin. In fact, I (more information than you will need following) bleed so much that tampons are impossible for me to use. Yessire, I cannot stand the little fuckers.
I remember asking friends once whether they used sanitary napkins or tampons and it was a suprising 50/50 division! Really. And just think, good old Johnny Howard (the [unfortunatly] Australian Prime Minister) was, or perhaps did, put a GST on tampons! PLEASE!
I got a call at 0005hr last night. That may not sound strange to anyone, but my phone ringing at all is eerie. The thing was on my CND it said UNAVAILABLE, which pretty much means that it is a call from out of the country. Admittedly, when the person spoke, they could have been speaking any language. I had absolutly no idea what they said, and because they had woken me up, I was even less coherant. I asked them to repeat what they said, and they did, and still no go. So I think I told the person that it was the wrong number, and then was the only time that I understood what he said. He ssaid to a person in the room with him "Its the wrong number". So, that freaked me a little. I hung up and went back to bed, afraid that I had inadvertantly offended someone who could practice voodoo. Then it occured to me, whilst talking to me they were probably speaking English and I was going on about how I couldn't understand what they were saying! I must have been out of it.

Well, energy said that I should talk about how Maverick was a cross-dresser. I will, but I am afraid that it is a dull story. So here goes...
I guess I got my first clue after about a week of being together. Out of the blue he started discussing how he had lived with a guy once, who turned out to be a cross dresser, then in his typically childish manner he started saying how truely horrible it was and quizzed me on how I would react to it. I think I must have said it wouldn't bother me, but I didn't get it. The same guy kept popping up intermittently in conversation out of the blue, however each time something else would be added, like how he/she had hit on Maverick, or something along those lines.
During this time some things started to happen, like Annabelle's pretty underwear disappearing. Now I think we initially blamed it on Ben, the 16 year old neighbour whom had a humongous crush on our poor Annabelle. It was kind of sweet really. But eventually we realized that her bra did not go missing off the clothes line, rather from in the house, when Ben could not get it. (As for Ben, put say 6 years on his age, or give me Hollywood star status, and perving would not be a problem)
It wasn't until we got the internet on Annabelle's computer that we discovered the real culprit. You know how when you begin to type in an address, say http://www.a, it comes up with all the addresses starting like that (ie: http://www.amsterdam.com, http://www.aversion.org &c.), we we came across some doozies! If they had been lesbian porn sites, then you could blae it entirely on me (I sound like a lesbian lately, don't I! Blame it on Angelina Jolie!) but they were not. I think that the first one that we came across was Chicks With Dicks. Yessum. Trannys. We went through every letter of the alphabet and there were some shockers.
I eventually faced him with it and, like with everything else, he became childishly defensive. He told me of all people I should undertand (oh, I have a thing for women and men, not both in the one body!) and that it wasn't all that he had been looking at. He tried to say that he had looked at men and lesbians as well, but they did not show up in the history, except mine of course. All he had looked at was chicks with dicks, men with boobs, women with things between their legs. He had no excuse, and no way out. We now knew where the underwear went and that this guy that he kept talking about, trying to see if anyone would you know, beat the crap out of him for being weird, was in fact him.
Fortunatly for us apart from Annabelle's bras, neither of us wear particularily feminin clothing.

So that is my sad story of how I discovered that my boyfriend would prefer it if I had a third leg. It made me realize that the only reason that he went for fat girls was because they are in generally lower in confidence and easier to manipulate, so he doesn't have to have sex all that often, which is good considering the state of that thing. Eeeeew! Then again, it may not even be real!
Cheers and merry be.

SPEWED FORTH AT 1108HR. COMMENT.

POOR PARENTING OR CHILD ABUSE?
So I was on the bus on the way in to pick up Missy when this other mother got on the bus. By looking at her alone I could have judged her, but I didn't. She was skinny, but with flabby bits hanging out over her TIGHT pants. She was covered in tattoos (oh the luck of only having a few that are easily hidden away) and would be relativly young, but was physically aged. Too much make-up. What we Aussies call "dero". (Wow, my [ ] keys are stuck together!) I should have reserved the right to judge her by apperance because then I heard her talk to her daughter.
Okay, okay, I eavesdrop too much. No, I am not going to stop it.
She told her daughter that she had gotten alcohol. Now let me clarify something here, her daughter would be around 6 or 7 years old. Then her daughter asked which one she got and when the mother said "Mudshakes" (happy to say that I have never indulged in this vodka delight) and that she had chosen them because they had a higher percentage of alcohol in them, the daughter replied with; "Oh I know them. They're yummy."
The mother then proceeds to hand her the bottle to open and drink from. VODKA! Now, she looks like a piss pot, she is drinking in public, on public transport, in the middle of the day. That is bad enough as it is. Too difficult to wait until you get home, then you have a problem. But I think I pointed out, that is not the worst problem. Then you are pushing a stroller with a kid obviously under 2 years old, a young daughter who should be in school, and you are getting plastered in front of them, in the middle of the day. And that isn't the worst part. The worst part is that you are giving your young daughter, who should be in school, alcohol!
Gee, I wouldn't care if she gave her a sip of wine at dinner, but vodka to a school age child in the middle of the day? Actually, vodka to a school aged child at all?
I don't know whether to classify this as bad parenting or child abuse. The one thing that it most definitly is, is S-T-U-P-I-D!
Grrrrrr.

SPEWED FORTH AT 1531HR. COMMENT.