Festivities Rule

So I went to Parklife right. It sucked. I didn't see you there either, probs because I am really fucking short and I couldn't see anyone/anything. The only thing I really actually remember seeing is this giant douche in huge painters overalls lobbing the fuck out and kind of gaying the fuck out with some other dick, and these two idiots dressed as Mario and Luigi. Bowser went up to them and said HEY IM BOWSER YOWW. I remember that too I guess.
Anyway I've been wanting to complain about something for a while, which is WHY THE FUCK DO PEOPLE TAKE SO FUCKING LONG IN THE FUCKING TOILET AT FESTIVALS AND OR NIGHTCLUBS OR EVEN IN SHOPPING CENTRES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY, I REMEMBER THIS ONE LADY AT MIDLAND GATE TOOK ABOUT 10 FUCKING MINUTES IN THE STALL.

YOU GO INSIDE, AND YOU PISS, AND THEN YOU WASH YOUR HANDS AND THEN YOU GET OUT. THAT IS WHAT YOU DO. SNORT YOUR SHITTY BATHTUB SPEED OUT IN THE OPEN BECAUSE NOBODY ACTUALLY EVEN GIVES A FUCK THAT YOU ARE DOING IT AND THE ONLY REASON THAT YOU ARE DOING IT IN A STALL AT ALL IS SO YOU CAN PRETEND THAT YOUR DRUG TAKING IS EXACTLY LIKE IN THE MOVIES AND YOU FEEL COOL. FUCK YOU. AND YOUR LITTLE DOG TOO.

I have actually been congratulated for being "really quick" in toilets before. I'm not actually "quick". I am just a sensible human being that PISSES AND THEN GETS THE FUCK OUT.

Also I got my drink spiked at the after party, so if it was you, and you are reading this. Then FUCK YOU.

Yeah, I've got my anger back. Feels good.

Winner

I have been at UWA for four years. I have made one friend in that time. So obviously I have like a PhD in being really friendly and approachable and I can share my secrets with you I guess.

The first thing to do is your mindset: trust no one. It really works for paranoid schizophrenics and also me. If people try to talk to you, it's just because they wanna copy your homework and/or ask you if you know when the next report is due. I'm not being cynical, this is actually true. No one ever says: "Hey girl, I notice you round and I like the way you look really gross all the time and don't brush your hair. Let's be friends." I think my place on the UWA social scene could be replaced by a unit diary, because that is all I contribute.

Okay so maybe you will be tempted to go to a university social club social event social. I did this in first year, kinda, because I lived in Nedlands and skrated to uni to visit Lucy who was at Mexicana. I am kinda in love with her p.s. She ended up getting me in for free and giving me free drinks all night and I ended pretty drunk. I think I talked to three people, not sure. WACKY. Me and Gemma also went to Mexicana again I guess, because we got free tix and probably thought Andrew Murray, Dreamboat Esq. would be there because of his heritage and all. We both ended up making out with dropkicks at a bombshell apartment somewhere in the heart of Nedlands and got really confused. From then on I had to avoid anyone on campus who looked vaguely like Chris Martin from Coldplay, it was pretty hard because 98.5% of students look like that (serios). ANYWAY Bay 14 can suck my dick, I don't want their Sausages in My Bun. (sidenote - I think my dog ate my lipsmackers just then, will update).

This is a really important strategy I'm about to impart: ALWAYS sit in exactly the same seat in lectures. Make sure it's a back seat obviously, and make sure to distance yourself from other people by at least two seats if space allows. I'm not sure, I just think people really feel this is a sign that you are friendly and approachable, IDK. One time I found someone sitting in my seat when it was obviously mine and I actually almost left the lecture theatre. Like what could I do?

Another thing I do that is really nice and makes people love me is steal their glassware from laboratory classes if I lose mine. Ok I mean break mine. You guys should do this too. If you fuck up your sample, steal someone elses and swap the labels. I don't do this because I never fuck up FYI.

Going to the REF and the OAK LAWN is scientifically proven to be really gay. There are a couple of places the lone wolf can eat sans human contact: the grass field near the Biological Sciences library (be careful though, a kookaburra ACTUALLY/LITERALLY stole my lunch from outta my hands there once), the Arts theatre parts covered in peacock shit and any toilet. Lucky for me I got a job on campus so I eat in my office. Under my desk. Nah jk.

Ok so like go forth and socialise, I don't!

Love Clare xoxoxo

p.s. - Burger just licked the outside of the 'smackers, I'm so still using it.
p.p.s. - this year because I have one friend, sometimes you will see me drinking jugs at the tavern: BOMBSHELL!

My Guts Pt 2

Yesterday as I was vomiting up my lunch (bulimia) I realised that my guts are like totally connected to my brain. You're all: NO DUH but it's more than that. I didn't really bulimia upchuck, what happened was I ate a fucking awful curry from the school cafe. I can't really go into detail about it because thinking about it just now made me feel so gross. I didn't give me food poisoning or anything, it was just a really weird yellow colour and I only really thought about it after I finished. Anyway so then at work someone heated up a curry at 5pm, bringing back memories of my lunch, I went to the 1st floor toilets for privacy, saw a skid mark and promptly threw up. Cuuuuuuttteeee!!!

See it was really only thinking about the shit stain that made me barf.

One time Gemma and Chris made me throw up by mentioning the following things to me:
1) Left over fried chicken in the fridge
2) Going down on the drunken forty year old woman who lives on Cowle st
3) Meat pies
4) Watermelon meat pies

And this other time I thought I had a crush on someone because I was thinking about them and got "butterflies" in my stomach. I was like THIS IS IT, THIS IS LOVE but then it turned out that I had just got my period and they were actually cramps.

Anyway my brain is like fingers down my throat, I'm going into the bulimia business, I need to stop thinking with my gut because it is usually a false alarm and probably just wants to eat a whole pizza. The End. Love Clare.

moronic

i dont even know if that word exsists or weather i made it up but i think its perfectly perfect and you can yell it at me when im at yr party, eating yr hommus with my bare hands and smearing it on close friends faces. i might be in yr living room, oscilating wildly too yr david bowie remix.
i might be falling down yr stairs, drinking beer, bending down in the middle of the road pretending i dropped something but really i just needed too spit real bad and didnt want anybody too see and be like "omg shes gross, is that a lung".
i could be running on yr local school oval, jumping things and swinging on the playground. im really good at jumping things. so much so that in highschool i earnt the nickname 'nemo' because i would drink goon then run away from everyone and jump fences and theyd have too go "finding nemo" fly kick me in my knee pit and attempt too restrain the energy i was radiating.
also i had black hair and wore vans and i like brand new, so you know nina the emo = NEMO. and because in art i did a draw of someone crying but i made the tears red and everyone was all "omg wtf shes bleeding from the eyes you emo wtf lol rofl"
maybe im all "paul banks, face like poetry" girl rapping about that time i saw that dude at the manor who was actually dead set p.b's twin and i was like this is it, this is the moment, is this what everyone is always going on about, is this love?
love: cheese

remember, too, breathe.

PS// isabelle i red what you wrote next too the thing i wrote at that place i go. you are actually the cutest girl ever, inside and out. 10 out of 10 dardy.

Really Reassuring Things Gemma Says Whilst Driving You Somewhere

"WOAH I zoned out for like 10 minutes there"

"Sometimes I see the red light and all but it doesn't register for me to stop, you know?"

"I can't really see, I'll just go"

"Sometimes I forget which is the left hand side of the road!" (Nah jk, I said that one)

"I just pretend to check my blind spot!"

Love Clare xoxoxo

thumbs up update

yesterday the coolest thing ever happened.
i stabbed a hot needle through my thumb nail and instead of blood just seeping out it power squirted through the sink, through the ends of my hair and ontoo the shower curtain.
i actually said "WOAH!" out loud, even though noone else was there.. and wished that dexter was there too analyse the blood splatter and there hed be, hell mystified and like WTF happened! and then hed be all omg nina you the wo-man and id be all shucks dex.

PS// this weekend is going too be really really really good and ive even already brought my jimbeam longnecks and theyre chilling in the fridge and i had too put a note on them thats like "dear everyone please dont touch these theyre my favourite and if you drink them ill be really dissapointed and ill spike yr drinks (no lob) youres faithfully, love nina marie elliott"

THE END!

Hello There

I have nothing to blog about because I'm really happy. Not saying I was sad or anything before aw GODDAMIT GUYS LEAVE ME ALONE.

Panadine Forte is my Boyfriend.

Today at Hollywood hospital a doctor crushed my wisdom teeth and sucked them out of my gums with a vacuum, I believe.

Okay let us begin from a logical POV (aka: the beginning).

My ever so compassionate mother dropped me off and we had a wonderful conversation which really eased my mind about the whole procedure.

M: Now Gemma if the anaesthetic wears off but you don't have the strenghth to tell them and you can feel them cutting open your gums...
G: (interrupting) Don't mum! I saw it on Grey's Anatomy
M: It really happens! Okay bye, good luck.
(M exits, G has small panic attack)

Then I have to go to a shared room and get naked behind a curtin. I looked real sexbomb in the gown (even after when it had blood and jelly on it).

The dude to my right was making out with his GF HARDCORE! I couldn't see cuzza the curtin but oh boyo could I hear the macks.

I'm pretty sure the girl on my left was reading the bible and I got this weird jealous feeling when the nurses talked to her. I really wanted them to like me, which they totally did even though my first questions were 1)when can I start drinking booze 2)how many days can I scam off uni and 3) can I keep my teeth.

Then I went in the waiting room where the biggest hottie ever asked me a bunch of questions. He had a glorious, glorious accent. Swoon. He also touched my boob which ruled (he had to put a thermometer there, plus he totes wanted to).

When I woke up I kinda freaked out and vaguely remember the nurses telling me to stop talking. Pretty sure I was trying to tell them the shitty thing my mum said before I went in.

Before I went in I was reading Catch 22 and I decided that pretending I was in a WWII hospital was the best idea. I was Yossarain and the girl next to me was Dunbar but I'm not sure if she was fully aware. As a result I think I had an "i'm such a trooper" face on which the nurses either found herioc or overly dramatic.

When I got home my little sister looked really sick, apparently she had an anxiety attack cuz i'd been at the hospital too long. I really want her to stay home from school tomorrow so I can tell her some really good insults to tell the bint who bullies her at school.

Since getting home I've eaten some chicken, ice cream, fruit and chips. I think the chips might have fucked up my stitches but i'm pretty sure it was worth it.

My face is numb on one half and I keep pretending I'm that Milo guy from Heroes, mother does not think it is very convincing but her taste in the performing arts is rather low brow if you know what I mean.

Love from Gemma

Ps. SHOOT! Forgot to ask how long before I can give gobbies again!!! JK! Gross!

ouch!

usually after an eventfull weekend each member of the C.O.D has a couple of bruises and schpiels too tell. this weekend i didnt get any bruises but i have a dead thumb instead. the trade off is painfull too say the least (this coming from someone who got punched in the face by a biff at 17 because i kept saying "jemapelle love")

not only that but i look really dumb because i have too hold my hand up because if i dont do that my thumb starts throbbing and its not very pleasant.

how did my thumb, which was in perfect health before last night, come too die? why must we mourn the use of an essiental limb?

because jo slammed the door on my thumb. thats why.

most of the time jo and i are buddies. my hats are good enough for him too want too take them and we often have friendly banter concerning keyboards and bands. you know, the usual.

but sometimes when we are in an inebriated state we clash. i actually cant remember how my thumb came too be wedged in the door, i was probably chasing him down for the last pringle and he tried too block my path by slamming the door on me.

anyway this stupid black, dead, corpsing thumb of mine makes it hard too perform everyday tasks ie. putting on clothes, typing, throwing things, using knife and fork.

i have learnt not too take limbs and simple motor skills for granted. i have learnt that my hand disease (the one where i had too wear the mittens) isnt the worst thing that can happen.

i am really tough now and all i want too do is start a revival of 'funny bones' and never stop doing the thumbs up because i am really enthusiastic :)

youres painfully but promisingly,

nina marie elliott

daily dose of cameron james stack.

(insert picture of rediculously cute CJS, then build a shrine in his honour)

PS// im not joking about the shrine thing. we actually have a c. stack shrine on top of our tv. it has fucking candles for godsake.

pro cheddar

forget me not

a while ago i thought the word 'dopplegranger' ment someone who was a look alike of someone else. i then went on too learn that the actual word was 'doppleganger'.
shut up gracey i knew it was that. this person was a wrangerr though so whatever. i ment too say that!

when i was at work the other day this regular told me his mums name. and i was like so whats youre father in laws name? hes like you mean my dad? and i was like NOOO youre f.i.l!! he was like uh, im not married but my dads name is winston. then a light bulb went on in my head. oh yeah.. it takes two people too make another person. shit..

someone once asked me how old i was after i told them too "do a wee" ummm 20. yeah. apparantly im "young and have ALOT too learn"

haha i know about all things equine and know most of the lines from 'not another teen movie'


young, pish. (the folly of youth)

Gemmer: The Enigma

So I was going through my internet emails because I am doing homework, these things are related. First of all, if anyone in the world was to see the emails Gemma and I used to send each other in the golden years (late 05-early 07) you would probably like either want to have children with us or never see us again in your life (probably bitched about you, sry). If you are not privileged enough for Gemma to have sent you an email, here are a couple of real-life examples:

Date: Jan 8 2006
"Yoyoyo don't know if you will be checkin' the ol' hemails but hi Clare, hi! How is Tasmania? Fun? Excruciatingly awkward? OOOOO I almost forgot I got a blood nose yesterday, must have been from the stress of you leaving, I thought it was really funny. Mum came home from work and i was lying on the couch watching Dragon Ball Z and holding a bloody tissue and I says I says "I want clare to come back" and Mum was all "Has she even left yet?". I bought a really cool notebook today because I realised that I have a lot of really wicked and cool thoughts that I forget FO' EXAMPLE: If I die from being burnt then I want my funeral to be open casket. Just things like that. Can't wait to party like it is Clarey99!!!"

or

Date: June 12 2006
"I have had so much coffee today that I have ***** 4 times! usually it is more like once! Something happened with my ear that was so gross I couldn't concentrate on my study. I dressed my sister like a whore for a rock and roll party yesterday, it was pretty funny, I burned her scalp about fifty times with the curling iron so maybe now she can be less of a pussy, but alas she just went in crying to my parents about a bad dream soooooo I guess I cannot lay the curling iron to rest."

Amongst such gems, I also found a short piece I had composed on October 30th, 2006 about Gemma.

"Cool Things That Happened on Saturday Night
A short novel by Clare E. Wee.
When we got back to Caddyshack after partying one night (that's a cool nickname for my place of residence guys), Gemma immediately went outside and started picking lemons. She had like six cradled in her arms and she asked me to pick up all the ones she dropped. She put them inside and didn't explain her actions. Then she got a glass of water, opened the fridge and poured it all over our foodz and said that everything would crisp up overnight. I said wtf! Kris Kristofferson, a frequent guest at my house, was eating a pastry the next morning and he said it was all watery. Then she ran outside on the street and hid behind a light pole. She didn't have any pants on and refused to come inside. But I caught her because she was too busy giggling to be any good at running. Haha! Then we went inside and watched TV. Gemma smeared toothpaste all over her tongue and then went to sleep.

I sort of know what it is like to have a mentally disabled person as a sibling or daughter or whatever now. It's really funny. "

So these things combined have made me really miss our salad days, when me and Gemma used to work at Dewsons together and pretend the EFTPOS machines were walkie talkies, when we used to both have fringes and people would be all: R U SISTERS and Gemma would say "Yeah, bangs are genetic brainiac" and we lived at our parents' houses and knew the 102/107/98/103 routes off by heart because they took us to each other. I'm well aware of how GAY I sound but you obviously don't have a BFF.





Now we're old and not that funny anymore :(.





p.s - thinking of turning Gemma's emails into a book like Barfin Arfin style.

dear everyone in amps line last sat night

im sorry if i found yr lob bag on the ground and teased you too youre face about it. im sorry if clare and i immitated yr lob munching, stroking antics and laughed in youre face.

im sorry too that dude who was standing in front of me with his hand up his shirt and i said "stop touching yourself, youre rank"

im sorry too that same dude who clare accidently graffd on yr arm and yelled "BIFF" at you.

im sorry that once inside i accidently stole some other dudes pint and then you found out that i did it cause i admitted it and then you said "oh well have a skull" and proceeded too BUY me another pint.

im sorry too all thoose ppl i refused too give cigarettes too because NO i dont want too aid in 'bringing on' yr lobs so you can be "peaking". peking duck you fuck.

PS// jk! im not really sorry at all :) hahahahaha 

PPS// clare and me = nasty (according too stevie d dvd) you heard it here first xx.

grave robbers

it is only thursday and so much has already happened since yesterday. i just cant believe it.

okay, so you know how me and gracey live in a wanksters paradise aka. the ghetto aka. junkie haven aka. the 'favella' (?)

well yeah. we totally do. and yeah we totally have arch nemesi that live in our apartment block. 

i will attempt too explain how this came about through my interpretation of the events that have unfolded since we first moved in.

so one  sunday night (approx 3mnths ago) gracey, joshy, katja are sitting on the balcony dranking some dranks digging some beats (probably a little too loud) and generally having a wow!ace! time.

then theres a knock at the door. gracey answers, "turn down the music!" said our foreign neighbour. gracey, having already consumed 1 btl of red wine at this point was uncapable of a reply so retorted, instead by slamming the door in her new pals face.

case closed for now.

anyway a couple of weeks later the police rock up at our place too find richard, james and gracey being rediculously loud. gracey put on her best 'i am speaking too a police man' voice and apologised profusly explaining we had not long since moved from a share house (cowle street) blah blah blah. (boys hiding in wardrobe at this point) police man ruffles graceys hair in patronizing way and returns too his important police man duties.

NEXT night. me, nina marie elliott is sitting in lounge (alone) watching rage, doing a draw in my pjs (pre bed) knock on door. zomg the police. so here i am pen and paper in one hand wearing cut off blue trackpant pjs i found in the secretroom at cowle street. wondering wtf just happened. the policeman is just as bewildered as i me as too why his prescence is needed. i return too finish draw and do a bed.

another weekday, another couple of drifters stop by for a longneck. arch nemesi decides we need too be stopped so proceeds too steal our power fuse. no power, great! so james went and stole someone elses and we had power again. A.N (arch nemesi) repeats the same action several times again AND on seperate occasions.

YESTERDAY gracey and i return home after c.o.d adventure too midland. (carpool with gem&clare yeah!) too find both of our keys wont fit in our lock. so gracey runs downstairs too see if maybe theres a not in our letter box explaining wtf is going on. im still trying too jam my key in that lock when i realise suddenly what the hell is going on. i see a clear trail of super glue oozing from the lock in question. someone superglued our lock THANKS ALOT YOU FAGGOT!! 

another visit from the locksmith, another 150 down the drain.

i wonder if the A.N reads dardia? i hope so. i hope you get but raped in the alleyway and bleed. i hope you think "oh god its finally over. they really care" when you think hes going too hug you you realised he just checked youre pocket for change. devod.

PS// on a lighter note the locksmith had amazing shoes. i was all "wow thoose shoes are super! you look like a lock smith superhero! do they aid in unpicking locks??" no. apparantly they dont. but they did look freakin great. i swore he could hulk out of his uniform and climb walls and do burn outs and stuff.

PPS// last night was rediculously fun. did you know one of the HAF boys (LNTL) looks like a deadset doppleganger for one of my good friends, andrew sinclair? its true, he really is a deadset doppleganger! photo comparison coming soon..

 

CJS

Did you guys know that Cameron James Stack is NOT just a really dardy face? He is whhaaayyy more than that hey. Sometimes he says some really clever things like “I hell rate quiffs…in fact, I’m wearing one right now!” and “I am like a snow tiger, I cannot be contained to any one acre of snow”. He is really wise, like that tree from Pochantas.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HIMBY! WE LOVE YOU!

Love from the C.O.D xoxoxo

denial is the first sign youre an addict:

the other day gracey came home and was super excited too find a saturday morning cartoon record at the op shop. (feat drew barrymore) the surprise came upon the discovery that NO this was not a record and YES it was dumb supersized cd. lazer disc, whatevs.
that sucks, furreal. (not like thoose freaky 'fureal' pets. shudder)

on a completly different note.. here you go. i have compiled several lists for you too read (i like lists. addict)


THINGS I LIKE VS. THINGS I DONT LIKE
a short story in point form by nina marie elliott

tv, etc. i frikken LOATHE the following: david letterman - you and youre bald headed companion are not funny. youre pothetic. and old. and creepy. i cant believe someone had babies with you WTF! funniest home video show - every saturday night some form of chump is residing in my living room having a good old laugh. i just dont get it, the voice overs are gay to the power of 100. blah. generally i dont really like tv. ive been trying too watch it as little as possible bar the following (LOVE) 30rock, that 70s show. obviously i just like series with numbers in the title or something, analyse that.

housemates. lalala love G.O.D. we are really, really good at living together. im really retarded and dont know how too work the grill or how too peel the top off my jellycups so she helps me. i on the otherhand i never let her down by providing a constant source of amusment and ideas. eg. most saturday mornings when i lurk into her room, still inebriated, laughing about some rediculous thing that happened last night OR// lying under clares door talking too her through the crack about dardys in blue cardys etc. etc.
and i always say dumb stuff:

G: where does it come from?
N: RAIN comes from the sky!!
G: i wasnt talking about that you fuck. duh.

J: blah blah blah something about bali.
G: hahah yeah bali
N: hahah yeah not like the country. i mean..
J&G: (hearty lols)
N: not like the state. whatever. see ya.

mince. of all of the slaughtered animals people may want too digest i dont understand the desire for this one. its ugly. it stinks. you cant even define whats actually in it. not very good is the conclusion.

The most Expensive Carton Ever (That I have purchased)

A coupla weeks ago on a Sunday all of C.O.D. and a few guests were sitting around in mine and Nina's apartment having a beyootiful time. Clare had just driven me to Igga where I had pur-chased the necessary ingredients for one of these.


(Except add cauliflower cheese and gravy.)

The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day, and James and I decided that the only possible way the day could actually get ANY better was if we had some beer. Maybe longnecks, maybe a carton.
Urrbody piled downstairs and it wasn't until I got to the security door out of our building when it slowly but surely became apparant that nobody took any fucking keys to our fucking apartment fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. And we live on the fourth floor fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. And the balconys are too far apart to climb, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
So, first I called Stripperlord and asked him what to do. He called me a fucking idiot and said that it was going to cost me heaps of money. Then I called my Dad. He called me a fucking idiot and said that it was going to cost me heaps of money and to call a locksmith. Then he laughed a lot.
I called a locksmith and then we went to go get a carton. The carton was $40. It was Carlton Draught. We drank it on the stoop of my favela building while a real estate agent was attempting to take pictures trying to make our building look semi-deece.

THANKS HARRY SOMETHING LOCKSMITHS ON MURRAY STREET, YOU ARRIVED QUITE PROMPTLY AND I AM QUITE ENAMOURED WITH THE PARTICULAR TOOL OF THE TRADE THAT YOU USED.

I fucking want one of these;



Imagine if I became a cat burglar. All you would hear is nothing, except for maybe a few clicks of my locksmith gun and then a loud bang as I fall over your couch and break another part of my body in a really strange way.

P.S. I got a photo of the locksmith, he was really nice. It was supposed to be $120, but I only had fiddys and he let me pay just $100. Richard Cleverley has the flick. Give me it to me Richard please.