SUMMER JAMS

the sounds of my summer are very sweet indeed:

the cramps: can your pussy do the dog?

de la soul: the grind date. FYI, every mother fucking song on this album is perfectly aMAZing. (jizz inducer)

pulp fiction: the motion picture sound track. from surf rock to twist classics, you be vibing all night long.

the ronettes: born to be together. too cute.

elvis presley: king creole. in my top 3 elvis songs ever list.

you know how i usually hate on summer? well this season im living for summer. 100% summer. swimming at la maison, walking too school, bike gang rides in the sun, sitting on our verandah looking at perths KEWT skyline. tom collins - the drink of my last summer in perth.

thinking of you,

-NME

EXPECTATION

there are times when i believe the sweaty days of summer are better spent at night, sinning and winning. (and wearing short shorts. ones where youre ass might cheekily say hello. but in the privacy of your own home.) but today was pretty lovely and seeing how i can barely smell/taste even if i am a perspiration morsel pre lubed for the sunny oven i cant even notice my pheromones and besides i could care less beacuse in approx 1 hr (maybe even sooner if i skip out of class early) i shall be strolling home. HOME i tell you! is it gay that i often stop and lay in hyde parks shady spots while smoking and listening too appropriate summer beats?? (it is as i often close my eyes and think about sandwiches or some shit)

is getting a facebook lame?
even if ive always said i wouldnt?
im moving nxt yr - possibly use that as the "reason"?
(haha)

PS// how rad is that diamond light!

PS I HATE YOU

today is one of my very LAST days of employment at my current job. needless too say this induces a constant state of euphoria and "am i entering the third dimension?" type epiphanies in my tiny bean like brain.

i say tiny because once you work anywhere for long enough (anywhere ie. customer service-ish, read:hospitality) you know the ins and outs of the "bizz" like the back of yo hand. therefore yr brain absorbs all the information its learned and once trained up you hit the brain recession, its like the renaissance of yr intellect because yr so used too sucking ass 24/7 you forget how to do normal stuff like go to the grocery store or be in public places or do social things (well in my case..)

anyway, im leaving soon, dear god its for the best. but i have one last parting shot, to YOU.

YOU are the temperaturely retarded woman who asked "can the A/C be turned off OOOH ITS A BIT CHILLY INIT? HAHAHA" and laughed weirdly and hysterically in my sweaty, dead beat face. that happens too me alot, people laughing in my face, but this maxi dress clad broad was enough too make my brain have a million arguments with its common sense coordinator.. who does she think she is? cant she see my sweaty ass haulin ass too get her ass the best? ITS FUCKING HOT WHATS WRONG WITH HER? maybe her maxi dress isnt big/maxi/oversized enough? why should i listen too her? who does she think she is? the fat contoroller? only the temperature/ weather controller bint??

i think my furrowed brow started sweating so profusely she thought i was crying! anyway, long live summer fun... sunscreen etc. etc.

SPF 50+

you will never guess what happened on the way here!
we had a stop over at brisvegas. upon arrival two security guards ushered me away too test me for explosives. so they lead me too their little room and im trying not too be nervous, i mean i DONT have any explosives so i have nothing too be worried about right?
anyway im trying too play it cool "oh, should i just sit down?" (points too lone chair) "NO, stay on the black square." so i did. then she patted me down (my first time) upon reaching my legs she exclaimed "well i KNOW you dont have anything in their LOL." becuase i was wearing tights with huge runs in the back. then her right hand man probed my bag with this stick thing and the one who patted me down was hell complementing me on my bag saying its the best one shes ever seen and stuff.
FYI: this is a brown leather satchell chris gave me before he moved too london, its so art bitch it hurts.

i think the drama is over but no it dosent end here.
when me and my unit (family unit) get too the customs bit where you show yr passport and what not they inform me that my passport, in very bad condition (its my only form of ID, hello amps) may not get me into my final destination. he proceeds too tell me that if they indeed choose too not accept me that i will be sent back too my place of origin (NZ)

anyway they let me in the country, so im here and its really really hot but its okay cause i smuggled my duty free bombay sapphire out by the pool and have a cigarette, a swim perhaps and ill hide under the bridge in the shady spot even though im wearing spf 50+ and this is amazing i cant wait too take heaps back too the land of aus because i wear sunblock everyday even when its raining. IM NOT THE ONLY ONE!!

more soon.
(NME)

dear everyone RE:summer

summer is fast approaching and im sure yr all as keen as mustard for the season.
in new zealand we call thongs "jandals", is that weird?
i guess either way it dosent really matter as i hardly see it as appropriate footwear for anyone EVER. (reefwalkers are far more socially and age appropriate)
FYI: we also call bathers "togs". haha

anyway the other day darcy, gracey, james, joe were getting frisky just at the mention of the beach. OMG! SAND! LESS CLOTHES! WATER!!!!!
i did not want too go too the beach.
just. didnt. want. too. go...
in their eyes the fact i didnt want too go too the beach clearly ment i was A. demonicly ill B. mentally unstable C. both
they were all "sorry do you need some ALONE time"
like thats the only reason i wouldnt want too go too the beach. like one of my relatives mustve died and now i need some 'alone time' too deal. because obviously thats the ONLY reason i wouldnt want too go too the beach right? im unstable right?

NO. i retorted. i hate people and i hate the sun, why would i put myself in a location that has extreme amounts of both, why?

so there you have it. nina no like summer they may call me. but clearly for sane and justified reasons. the end (a short novel by nina marie elliott)