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It’s frikkin freezing, Mr Bigglesworth.

Random thoughts which peppered my head today:

The first time I heard about man boobs was on DeGrassi Junior High: “Dad? Kids at school say I’ve got boy boobs!” (Crying) “It’s alright son, it’s gonna be o-kay.

Today, I stubbornly refused to flag down a bus I actually wanted to catch. I have no explanation for this, except that I didn’t want to appear needy.

Sometimes, I wonder how good I’d be in a hostage situation. I hope I’d MacGyver myself outta that puppy but in truth, I’d probably fall apart as if hearing the news Bea Arthur was dead.

I find it odd when people announce intimate details to the room at large: “Guess what everybody? I’ve been diagnosed as clinically obese!” Good to know, fatty.

What’s with the guy who gets on the lift and spends the whole ride watching you? It’s a drive-by stalking and I won’t stand for it.

Wind makes me angry. After venturing out for lunch today, I looked like Keith Richards after an aggressive handshake.

I hate people who follow me. I don’t care if you’re going the same way. Fuck off.

Sometimes my back is so painful, it feels like it’s gonna throw a Christopher Reeve. I wonder if I could ask the chiro to give me a Jennifer Grey evaluation?

I’m training myself to stop raising my eyebrows, it’s my version of Botox.

Keep the change, you filthy animal.

Random thoughts which peppered my head today:

Sometimes I find myself eating like The Kid in Dick Tracy. As I was never an orphan starved of love or food, I have no explanation for this.

I had a nightmare last night where men were trying to kill me, but I was saved by the motherlovin’ Olsen twins. I awoke with a shout, like an old man the moment he steps into a cold bath.

I hate supermarkets. Why is it, when someone walks behind a shopping trolley, they suddenly start moving like a granny who just crapped her shorts? It’s a military exercise, people. Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!

Cockroaches piss me off with their audacity. If they walk around in front of me, it’s like. Dude. I’m right here.

How do movie stars stay pretty when crying their eyes out? When I ball, my nostrils quiver like a virgin on prom night and my eyes swell like over-cooked conchiglie. How ya like them apples, McConaughey?

I hate people who exit an elevator like they’re landing on the moon, all wonderment and caution. What the frik?

Never trust a man with a moustache. It’s possible Hitler ruined it for everyone but I’m sorry, you either look like an evil dictator or a 70s porn star. The only exception to this rule is Magnum PI. Learn to deal.

a short aside

An older Mark Hamill got in the lift at work today. Come to think of it, Mark himself is somewhat age-ed, maybe it was him? My very own Luke Skywalker!

“Ladies, check out my light sabre!”

Cue scream.

I always thought it a pity that little Mark never became bigger. In life, and in film. I guess I’ve always had a penchant for the short man, they seem like such a neat little package. Somewhat emasculating? Apologies. As a tallish woman, this penchant goes unanswered because a small man will simply make you feel like a large woman, which just ends in tears really. A lot of famous actors are short. William Goldman had an obsession with the short movie star (which he talks about in his book, Which Lie Did I Tell?)

He once saw Stallone in a swimming pool and surreptitiously sidled up to him, to answer for himself – just how short is this guy?

Answer: pretty bloody short.

today, I passed …

a woman colour co-ordinated with a passing taxi,

a man who smelt like a nightclub, though

strangely, not in a bad way,

a group of school kids in a train station,

complete in gray shorts and knee-high socks,

a woman so thin,

her legs were two straws,

her kneecaps, blueberries sucked halfway up.

thought. Prince Charles is but a school boy trapped inside an aged body.

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