Hey faggotz

Don't forget (for a moment) that I don't give great advice. So email me at axe_da_cod@hotmail.com. Boys? Girls? Sandwiches? Interior design? Inferior design?

I can help you!

I have an opinion of everything!!! AXE GEMMER!

My Life, as a Story.

Has anyone ever read that Stephen King's novella collections? There are some scary fucking stories in there. One of them is about going through to this other dimension cus you were asleep on the plane, and you can hear this buzzing noise and it's basically these demons called Langoliers eating yesterday cus Shock! Horror! the dimension turned out to be that. (Suckers.) I can't really remember what happened but there was something about a blind child that had visions and she ended up dying cus this guy that liked to rip up napkins when he was nervous went crazy cus he really needed to be in Delaware for a promotion, but alas, he was stuck in yesterday.
Anyway! There is this other story called The Library Policeman, which involves a Library Policeman, some succubus, red licorice, drunks and airplanes. Eons ago, before I went to Melbourne, Kasia and I went to the Inglewood Library and got out some books on my card. I think I got out such great young adult reading material as multiple Sweet Valley High and Christopher Pike books (I swear to God, Christopher Pike must have been such a lonely upset virgin in High School as all the cheerleaders, popular girls and sex kittens turn out to be BLOODSUCKING CREATURES FROM HELL/OUTTA SPACE/OTHER DIMENSIONS) and Kasia got out some giant encyclopaediac books about dogs. Hahahah. I love Kasia.
During the time between me taking these books out, and yesterday, I have gone to Melbourne, packed up and moved not only mine but my stupid dumb boyfriends crap, been a real winner and just generally forgotten about going to the library and returning books until I got a few phone calls. I kept meaning to take them back, I really did, and then I got a letter in the mail saying I had $180 in overdue Library Fines and my imagination basically started running like an American Indian and I kept imagining that my picture was up next to the computer and they had fancy face recognition software like in David Jones and as soon as I took them back the doors would lock and the librarians would stop being softly spoken people who look like they should be next to Aunt in the dictionary and instead turn into people that would and could beat me up.

Yesterday these guys showed up TO MY HOUSE at 9 in the morning.



I didn't think they were real. They were in disguise by calling themselves the Mobile Collections Unit, but I knew what was up. Because I am so fucking retarded at life for some reason I lied to them and told them the books were at my parents house when if I turned my head slightly I could actually see them on the floor of my room. I donut know why I did this because now I am going to have to actually go the library and return them. If Stephen King is anything to go by then I should take a giant ball of red licorice and stuff it the cakehole of the Library Police so he reverts back to his succubus self and explodes cus he can't feed off the fear of children anymore.

V for Vendetta

So this may be just paranoia, it may be that it is 3.28am, it may be the wine burt somebody is out to get me.

First it was the text message I got on friday (blogged about earlier) and then when I was getting into my car at approx 3.31am on Sunday someone had gone to the trouble of writing either "yuppy scum" or "yuppy bitch" (can't remember) into the dirt on the windscreen of my car (they had to write backwards I might add so that I could read it as I drive).

Now I know you might be thinking "jeez Gemmer its just some random azzhole", but obviously you haven't seen my car. It screeches when it starts up, has a MASSIVE dent on the side and has so many items of clothing in it you would think I LIVED in it. Only little orphan annie would thing it was "yuppy". Not to mention there is a spider nest in my car from all the ancient shit my stepdad gave me which I convieniently stored there.

If I wasn't such a bitch I could narrow it down. Another theory is that it is one of the azzholes I work with.

Still this whole experience has led me to axe, did the CIA create facebook?

Gemma Emanuel. NONONO Mrs Rahm Emanuel.

I appear to have the same taste as gay men.

I have to stop googling Rahm. He is just so PRETTY.

Except the only fetish I have is that he hold me.

Ps. If you click on the link be prepared to see an abundance of penis, I wasn't.

Laura and Gemmer RULE at halloween.

Although this blog is almost exactly 3 months overdue I think it still needs to be written/shown to the public. Even though i'm almost certain the 60-80 hits we get a day are merely our friends who I no doubt bragged about this to for approx a month after halloween so you all know about this. Anyway this is Laura and I on halloween.



If you can't tell from the picture Laura and I went as the World Trade Centre. I even made clay people to jump out the windows. Laura is probs going to be mad about this blog because she wrote her thesis on post 9/11 literature and (rather neurotically) stresses that in 20 years when she is the go-to-girl on 9/11 this shame will surface discrediting her entirely and she will have to move back in with her parents and get a job selling protein shakes over the phone. I think it is worth it.

I walked through Northbridge in this outfit and actually only encountered two groups of people with negative feedback, one group were just overly sensitive indie weiners who said "too soon, dude". Not too soon really, I know it took AIDS a little while longer to get funny but AIDS killed way more people (AIDS can now be funny). I approached the other group in a drunked slur saying "9/11 NEVER FORGET" to which one of them replied "I know, we were there". I said "betcha weren't!" as I skipped off. It is a common myth that all Americans were in New York on the 11th of September 2001.

In conclusion Laura and I are the queens of halloween. This year's halloween entirely depends on who dies this year/disasters. Or maybe i'll finally dress as the hulk as ive always hoped for.

sorry

i ate everyones icecream and now they hate me.

i have icecream stains on my bed.

im boring.

(NME)

packin heat (dudes)