LIST #99 - AN UNMARRIED WOMAN, ALONE, OF A CERTAIN AGE, DRESED THE WAY I DRESS, APPARENTLY IS KOREAN FOR JENNA JAMESON.

Listening to: Tambores te Llaman - Osunlade
Location: Anywhere but here.
Word of the day: Succubus (/sukyoobəs/): a female demon believed to have sexual intercourse with sleeping men (http://www.askoxford.com).

01. NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! Come back Good News Week!! Next year is so far away! It's heartbreaking, I know. But here are some of GNW 2008's best quotes to tide you over until the next season:
- If you use a tazer on a cop, you get crackling.
- And to me, mutant sperm sounds like it's going to crawl out of the condom when you've gone to sleep, eat your dog and go on a killing spree.
- A hotel with no stars. Isn't that where Channel Nine is having their Christmas party?

02. The Nigella website is back!!!!! Hooray! I love love love everything about it – more recipes from Ms Lawson, the cookie cutter navigation bar and the cheerful pastel theme. Oh, how I missed you. Quite terribly, if I may say.

03. John Lennon is rolling over in his grave to hide the boner you just gave him.

04. I like sports cars but it doesn't mean I want to push a Ferrari through my vagina. Shotgun.

05. If I push any further, I'm going to give birth to my colon.

06. Have recently finished the 3^rd season of How I Met Your Mother, the 1^st season of The Big Bang Theory, and am finally up to date with the 2^nd season of Gossip Girl. Am aware of how belated I am, but nonetheless – HOW FREAKING FUNNY IS BARNEY AND SHELDON??!!! You know when you laugh so hard you fear that a little wee will omit? Well, I didn’t exactly come through with it, but yes. Very, very close.

07. What am I doing? Oh, nothing.

08. Paul: Slowly, slowly, catch the monkey.

Eugene: Is that a bedroom joke?

09. I feel safer with a chicken drumstick.

10. Oh, please say you will want me!

11. Some photos from last Friday night's outing (thanks, Eugene!). SFS - Sydney FC vs. Queensland Roar and St James :

LIST #98 - IF IT WAS PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE TO MAKE LOVE TO A HOT BEVERAGE, THIS WOULD BE THE ONE.

Listening to: A Time For Spring - Nicola Conte
Location: At the desk under the air-con.
Word of the day: Grandiose (gran⋅di⋅ose/ˈgrændiˌoʊs): affectedly grand or important; pompous (http://dictionary.reference.com)


01. Hooray for the arrival of The Letters!

02. Come, let us go to Italy and see many a jazz band perform! A smokey voice, the seductive bass, the lifts and descending eases of the piano that let you soar, allowing you to fly close to the ground but never letting you land quite yet; and the soft, yet determined caress of the snare and high-hat that makes you aware that you are not dreaming. And undoubtedly many opportunities for me to learn how to enjoy hot coffee.

03. EMBRACE.

04. Scrumptious jam tartlets and jasmine tea. Posh sustenance. I'll say "aye" to that!

05. Some gems from last night's episode of Good News Week:
President Obama will face many challenges - two wars and an economic crisis. But the first order of business: reconnect the button that Bush has been pushing for the past eight years thinking he'll get a banana.

When Rudd mentioned the G20, Bush paused for a minute, and said "You've sunk my battleship".

Paul McDermott: What's it really like being a woman in federal politics.
Julie Bishop: Well, I've never been a man in federal politics before, so it's kind of hard to compare, really.

(Paul McDermott to Julie Bishop) We'll go see Becks, the both of us. Two foxy ladies out on the town. Excuse me David, I've just got to go shave again.

Candace Bushnell: I don't want to disappoint you.
Paul McDermott: You haven't ever disappointed me. I've only met you today and you've never disappointed me previous to me not meeting you.

A Japanese man has started a petition to legalise marriage between humans and cartoon characters. Finally. Where do you draw the line? Oh, there.

Perth will host the awesome International Arts Festival For Bright Youn Things. Because it sounds better than the Festival of Pushy Parents Reliving Their Faded Dreams Through Precocious Brats.

At a comedy gala in London, to celebrate the 60th birthday of Prince Charles, Diana will leap up, reveal she's not dead, Charles has been Punked.


06. Why do you care anymore? Let others take care of themselves. Focus on YOU. What happened to the woman on a mission? Where has she gone? Bring her back.

LIST #97 - JUST REMEMBER, THERE'S CUTE JEALOUS AND THERE'S OTHELLO.

Listening to: Flowering Children - Nils Krogh
Location: At the desk under the air-con.
Word of the day: salacious (sa⋅la⋅cious/səˈleɪʃəs/): lustful or lecherous (http://dictionary.reference.com)


01. Sticky date pudding.

02. Black Forest gateau.

03. Pavlova.

04. Carrot cake cupcakes.

05. Strawberry shortcake.

06. Blackberry galette.

07. Molten chocolate cake.

08. Almond cake with strawberries and caramel sauce.

09. Peach pie.

10. Profiteroles.

LIST #96 - IT WAS A GREAT KISS. IF ONE OF US HAD BEEN A FROG, IT WOULD HAVE HAD SOME SERIOUSLY IMPERSSIVE CONSEQUENCES.

Listening to: Illusions - Tamarama
Location: At the desk under the air-con, looking around furtively in case someone saw me put my earphones in backwards.
Word of the day: Anomaly (a⋅nom⋅a⋅ly, /əˈnɒməli/): a deviation from the common rule, type, arrangement, or form (http://dictionary.reference.com)


01. The Black Keys? Why MR Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?

02. Driving along the Alfords Point Rd bridge, the evening wind blowing in my hair, Kaskade's 4am, no other cars in sight. The quiet rapture is my own; I greedily snatch it with both hands. Get your own.

03. Hooray for Barack Obama!

04. Thanks, Sheryl! I'll Get Bent tonight!

05. White buttoned shirt (sleeves casually rolled up), a pair of well-loved Nudies, skinny tie and a pair of black leather shoes. Hel-lo.

06. Where's my letter?!!! GIVE IT TO ME!!!

07. Where's her letter?!!! GIVE IT TO HER!!!

08. "Hey do you think people race here (Market City car park)?"
"What, do they think this is? Tokyo Drift?"
"Hey there's a corner coming up"
"Driiiiiffffffffffttttttt"
"(poor imitation of the sound of a car drifting)"

2 minutes later:
"Hey do you think people race here (Market City car park)?"
"What, do they think this is? Tokyo Drift?"
"Hey there's a corner coming up"
"Driiiiiffffffffffttttttt"
"(poor imitation of the sound of a car drifting)"

09. Oh how I miss you, Oscar. Come back!

10. It was strange seeing her getting out of the car. Loose curls hung where sadly limp, over-straightened hair once was, a white floaty dress cinched at the waist with a woven leather belt replacing singlets printed with 'Playboy' and feet adorned with gladiator sandals instead of Havaiana thongs that were once yellow but now a questionable mustard. Very strange.

RUE.

So. You’ve been caught. You knew it was going to come to this. Eventually. It’s not how you imagined it would be, is it? Why isn’t she saying anything? Where is all the screaming? The rapid firing of profanities? The dodging of any object in close proximity of her grasp? You’re confused, yet you don’t risk letting it show. Do you hear your heart beating faster and faster? Can she hear it? Is this her way of punishing you? Is it working? Yes. In fact, you feel something you have never felt before, something so unfamiliar it scares you. Do you feel that grip on your neck? The pressure on your throat? The bruising throbbing at your wrists? That, my friend, is remorse. You don’t even know why you did it in the first place. Probably to prove a point. To prove that every female is expendable. But you’re wrong, aren’t you? As cliché as it sounds, she isn’t dispensable. Admittedly, your initial thoughts of her upon the first encounter at a proverbial friend-of-a-friend’s dinner party were flagrantly indecent. Admittedly, you had to nod to your mate as he observed her appearance with an “As if you wouldn’t”. Admittedly, your desire was quickly forgotten once she proceeded to wax lyrical to her friend about the new patisserie she had chanced upon on the way home from work. You had, in actual fact, been to said patisserie and after deciding it was the best form of physical pleasure this side of sex, you had become an ardent aficionado. The fact that you didn’t fuck her senseless that first night should have been a sign that she was different. She didn’t incessantly whine about inconsequential things, like how badly she wanted the dress that her best friend’s brother’s neighbour’s sister in-law was wearing. She didn’t constantly ask “What’s wrong?” when there was nothing wrong. Which of course, would trigger an argument about how you “never talk to me anymore”. She did, however, teach you how to make banana pancakes with the easiest caramel sauce in the world. The night you broke your arm, she changed your flat tyre. In heels. Her apartment is a mess, yet she religiously keeps her books in alphabetical order. And. She yells louder than you when the Swans miss a goal (again). Oh sure, this girl is absolutely substitutable. A dime a dozen, isn’t that what they say?

Still silent, she slowly starts approaching you. Out of habit, you retreat backwards in a vain effort to place as much distance between your body and the hairdryer that will inevitable fly at you. And yet. She has not reached for anything. Still advancing towards you until you feel the bed at back of your legs. Still, not a word. Her expression is unreadable, which you find disconcerting. You had felt ridiculously proud when she confessed that you were the only person who could read her like you do. She pushes you onto the bed, straddling you in the process. Pushing her hair over one shoulder, she leans down and touches her lips to yours. So soft, you wouldn’t have known she had kissed you if you eyes had not been open. Her light, feathery kisses are reminiscent of those she had given you that day you had professed that you were serious about her, that you couldn’t disregard her feelings like you had the others; that you couldn’t be unfaithful to her. Her body looms above yours, yet she doesn’t touch you anywhere else. Still, not a word. You begin to kiss her more insistently, pushing through the barrier she has created. Your hand finds its way to the nape of her neck, as it always does; and she responds fiercely, as she always does. You don’t know what it is about her, but her response to you is like no other. You relish every fervent touch and every unintelligible whisper. She gives herself freely to you and you greedily accept. You have never met anyone as generous as she, and are painfully reminded of the dire mistake you had made. The thought promptly leaves your mind as your bodies meet. She is your home and you make a silent pledge to her. Never going to let you go. Never, never, never. The culmination is explosive and you hold her closely to you, refusing to allow any space between you. Still, not a word. You wait until her laboured breathing slows, the promise of love on the tip of your tongue. She gently pushes herself up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She could have screamed the most offensive of obscenities; you could have taken the histrionics. She could have said anything and everything. Anything; any word, except for the one you didn’t want to hear.



Goodbye.

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