NaBloPoMo – Day Twenty Seven.

The answers to my questions from yesterday, really made me laugh. You bitchez is funny.

And inspiring. I want to answer them TOO!

1. If you were in a beauty pageant what would your talent be and how would you demonstrate it?

Ooh. I’ve always thought that it’s a bit unfair that drag shows are for men.
I would quite like to dress up in some big wigs and fabulous frocks and lip-sync along to songs. I do a shit-hot version of “I honestly love you” by Olivia Newton-John.

Otherwise… cooking a lamb roast?

2. In your wild “yoof” (or perhaps even now) did you have a pulling outfit and what did it consist of?

So, I confused poor old TJ with this question. A pulling outfit is what you would wear to woo the laydeeez… or in my case… the mens.

As a teenager in the nineties I had some shocking outfits but can’t remember ever having one particular outfit that I wore often enough to class as a pulling outfit. I did however have a pair of lucky undies with strawberries all over them. I also had a penchant for extremely short mini skirts and boots like these…

3. If you were a piece of furniture, what would you be and why?

A bean-bag – Generally colourful, kind of retro, kind of cool, kind of dorky and a little bit lumpy.

4. If you won 10 million dollars (or pounds) in the Lotto, what would be the first five things you would do with your money?

1. Buy a big clear fridge and fill it with Veuve Clicquot like Eddy’s kitchen in Ab Fab.
2. Give notice at work
3. Enrol in a make-up artistry course
4. Call my family and ask what they want.
5. Go on a really long holiday.

5. Best drunk story?

Ooh. So many choices.
I mean there are just so many to choose from.

One that I have never blogged about to my knowledge does spring to mind.

Soon after I turned 18 I moved to Canberra to live with my Dad. I enrolled to study “Caring for the Aged and Disabled” and worked part time as a kitchen hand at an Italian restaurant.

I didn’t know a LOT of people in Canberra, so didn’t have much of a social life and was a bit miserable generally. I studied, I worked – that was about it. About 5 months into my stay one of my best friends, Emma, had her 18th. It was the first time I caught up with a lot of people that I had gone to school with in about 4 years, so not only was it a bit daunting, but I had not touched alcohol in about 5 months either.

That punch is always a killer ey?

To cut a long story short I had a belly full of punch, no food and was home trollied out of my tree by about 9pm. I stumbled past my Step-mum who opened the door for me, yammered at my Dad for a minute or so managing only to get out “I’m a bit drunk” and then went to my bedroom.
Was wearing a long navy dress over a white fitted crop tee (The Nineties….) and big hooped earrings… tried to take dress off, got it stuck on my head, stumbled around the room with dress on my head, fell over and managed to bruise the fuckity out of my thigh on my bed.

Whilst lying half on the floor and half on the bed I finally managed to rip the dress off my head but also managed to rip large hoop out of one ear making it bleed slightly.

Swear my head off whilst lying on the floor. Finally get to my feet. Head-spin, possibly caused by pain in ear, bruise on leg and all the booze. Feel sick. Want to vomit but need to walk past lounge door to get to bathroom.

Decide to see if Dad has gone to bed by pulling door open and peering down hallway. Very squeaky door. Dad still in lounge. Dad looks at me, I look at Dad. Slam door shut.

Repeat. Many times.

Decide that I instead, is probably a good idea to vomit in a plastic Sussan bag instead. Accidentally get some on white crop tee as well, but decide to wipe that off with a pair of socks and shove them in the bag too. Because I am nothing if not a tidy piss head.

Cannot work out what to do with plastic bag, decide to see if Dad has gone to bed… yep… repeat…

Finally stalk wobblyish down the hall towards bathroom wearing crop tee with a bit of vomit on it, knickers and one earring. Carrying smelly plastic bag filled with vomit and a pair of socks.

Dad staring at me and I am all like “Oh yeah. Hi! Me? Just going to the loo”

Stick whole bag in loo and try to flush.

Didn’t work. Also did not live that one down for quite a while.

NaBloPoMo – Day Twenty Six.

Remember my interview with Enny?

Well, I have had a few bloggers put up their hand and I figure since I am participating in this mental month known as NaBloPoMoFo (Haha. Did you see? MoFO! How funny am I?) I am going to give y’all once generic set of questions, and then anyone can play!

1. If you were in a beauty pageant what would your talent be and how would you demonstrate it?

2. In your wild “yoof” (or perhaps even now) did you have a pulling outfit and what did it consist of?

3. If you were a piece of furniture, what would you be and why?

4. If you won 10 million dollars (or pounds) in the Lotto, what would be the first five things you would do with your money?

5. Best drunk story?

Make sure you leave a comment so we can all come and nosey around your blog!

NaBloPoMo – Day Twenty Three.

Thanks to the lovely Enny for interviewing me… NaBloPoMo needs all the help he can get (Yes. NBPM is a man. I have decided)

Best part is, you can play along… if YOU want to be interviewed see the bottom of this post.

1. First kiss, worst kiss, best kiss?

First… (I think, or so I have been told) Alastair, the older man (about 6 or 7) that lived upstairs from my family in New Delhi, around 1979, 1980. By all accounts Alastair was a bit… special.

Worst… Ooh. So many to choose from. Probably with someone who shall remain nameless who had been downing Bundy Rum all night, who THEN ate a pizza pie who THEN licked me all over my chin whilst breathing heavily.

I am feeling nauseous just thinking about that.

Best…

Well, Mick of course… when my nieces or nephew give me a hug and a kiss with their sticky little dirty lips.

2. What caused you to laugh the most you can remember?

I am not someone who laughs a lot at things that other people laugh at, I usually laugh at things that other people aren’t funny.
I seem to remember quite a few stand out occasions when I was overseas, it will mean nothing to a lot of people and a lot to my old flatmates Janine and Martine, “they’re my fucking socks!”.
Also when Janine stuck Martine’s tooth back on with superglue and her thumb got stuck to Marty’s tooth… that’s a whole other story….
The very long drive from Cairns to Weipa and back again with Jiah and Marty… though I think there was delirium and hallucination involved.

3. If you were to have 3 bloggers over for dinner who would they be,
what would you do and why? Note: Mick is expected to attend already
)

Phew. Lucky Mick is there to wash up… Only THREE? I think I would have to choose bloggers that are far away because I will probably never get the opportunity to meet them… but maybe you (Enny) and Aly, can just drop in unexpectedly! Because I will have these fabulous guests at my house…

1. Boz – I think he is terribly witty and I think we would get along like a house on fire… and there is on of my friends I would like to set him up with. He doesn’t post half as much as I would like him to, but I can forgive him because I luff him and he is busy and stuff.

2. Shauna – She’s gonna be a famous author you know… and she I share a love for Savage Garden, Live in Concert. When she comes to dinner I will give her a copy of that dvd as a gift, because that’s what a good friend would do.

3. Jenny – When I am a Mum, I want to be like Jenny… and she seems like she would be really fun to get drunk with.

4. If you were to win the election (by magic) what would be some of
the things you would do?

Oooh… so many choices…
Well, I would move in here first, being that it is my new home and stuff. But then I would feel bad about wasting taxpayers money so I would probably have to go live in Canberra (Yes, Canberra IS the capital of Australia for all you foreign readers).

Then after all of that fart-arsing about moving around and stuff I would actually demote myself and make my Grandma Prime Minister for a couple of months.

She sorted us out and she can sort this country out.

5. Where do you see yourself in 12 years?

Ohmygods…. I will be about to turn 43 in 12 years… far out brussel sprout…
Hopefully living in a house with a vege patch and playing dress up with my kids

Now it’s your turn. If you want to be interviewed, leave me a comment
including the words “Interview me.” I will respond by emailing you
five questions. I get to pick the questions. If you don’t have a valid
email address on your blog, please provide one. You will update your
blog with a post containing your answers to the questions. You will
include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the
same post. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask
them five questions.

**EDIT** I now feel bad for not inviting some bloggers to my imaginary dinner party so I am now hoping TJ, Lara, Jitta, NPW and Angela will pop in for some Lamby and Dippity Bics at some stage.