You mean everything has to make sense?

My long time away is to be blamed on the lack of a job. That’s because at my job, my computer and the keyboard were functioning fine. At home, not so. The keyboard is a cool gizmo with a mind of its own, and its wireless. It types the letters it likes and leaves the others out. On emails, I sound like a severely dysfunctional person and often get replies full of sympathy, offering me help and their vibrator. No, really, you know right? They used vibrators on women coz they thought they solved problems. I think it was wonderful therapy.

Anyway, this post has nothing to say in particular. I will be all over the place, talking about stuff that completely unrelated. Thinking aloud, basically.

So,

Why do men like movies like Terminator Salvation? No, really why? It’s just a lot of people and machines and people-machines being thrown around and doing some awfully unbelievable stunts. Of course, they have smart dialogues when they are going to die/escape/run/hang. You know, really, if I am hanging on for dear life, I want to get the hell out and be safe. I will not be wearing tight leather pants and I will not remove my helmet to reveal nice, flowy hair. I will be smell of shit (from being shit scared), my hair will be matted around my dirty face and any smart alec dialogues and I promise I will punch you.

Advertising people. Arrgghh. Yeah, yeah. I am in advertising. But, you know, from the inside, it’s a pretty fucked up place. People think its ok to be nasty, stupid, a psychotic murderer. Oh! You snorted your ass off and raped an innocent man? Cmon, fucker, welcome to advertising. Huh?!?!? Anyhoo, profanity is ok, weird creative people..well..ok..but this attitude. From years of (ok, a couple) observing this industry, I have deduced that ideas, the great award-winning, awesome ideas work with timelines. Creative ideas only saunter in after 6. This policy is strictly adhered to. Only after half the world is in snoozeville are you allowed to think good ideas. Which means a lot of time is spent post-6 at work, abusing each other, smoking up and being a nuisance to society and the world at large. Why? Inefficiency, it’s called. Do all your work, in the time given to you. Stop fucking hanging around work, claiming your passion for advertising keeps you caged in office. And stop looking down at people who leave work on time. We are done and we have a life outside of work. Which involves normal people. So, fuck you.

You know when you are chatting to someone and you just have to pee? No, not the bladder-full feeling. So, on your chat window, you type a quick “brb”. Which is, be right back. Which means now, you have disappeared to do whatever urgent work you needed to be completed. So, people of the world to my “brb”..do not say ok. Coz my window starts flashing and im not there. “NOT THERE” And I know you are ok with it anyway. You wouldn’t rather have me pee on you, right?



I don’t know if this feeling has a name. Or maybe it’s called familiarity. I will be jumping out of my panties at the thought of a holiday. Of tuning out the world. Of being with friends and family and having that warm, feeling. I do feel all these things, but when I return, all those sights and smells that lead home are just..sooo comforting. Suddenly, im not nervous, not jumpy. Its not like im these things normally a don’t relaise it, but it just feels so good to come home even if I have been looking forward to the holiday in my dog’s kennel.

In other unrelated and inconsequential news, I am scared my very efficient machine at the gym will break down. I need a life. Plus, I love Lindt’s dark chocolate. I would marry this one.

Ok finish. Ok bye.