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Monday, 10 October 2011

Toilet Doors

Whether you realise it or not, toilet doors are a terrifying thing. Honestly, whenever I see them, fear is struck into the very core of my existence. They are horrific and malevolent beings that must be avoided at all costs.

I hate toilet doors. 

Well, that is a generalisation. I don't hate ALL toilet doors. I hate toilet doors belonging to other people.

Don't you just hate the sinking, gut-wrenching feeling you get when you enter a toilet, and there is...


There is no way to cover your shame, no sense of privacy, no escape. You may as well walk through the house naked. Honestly, how hard is it to buy a door handle with a lock? You could save people like me so much drama and crippling fear.
What if someone walks in while I'm doing my pees and poops?
That would create whole worlds of unnecessary weirdness. I would forever feel awkward, and never return to their house again. I think everyone should take a gander at the safe haven of my own toilet. It is full of locks, combinations and key-codes. Alarm system and everything. Not even a tank could get through that toilet door.

Now I have a very small and weak bladder, and I pee as often as a mouse. Sorry for the graphics, but there. I said it, and it's out there. But if I am at your house, and you have no lock on your toilet door, so help me God I will refuse to go. I will hold it in till my bladder ruptures. It is a plausible cause of death for me, because I relentlessly avoid the catastrophe of toilets with no locks. I simply will no do it. I will go home instead.
No matter who you are, your presence and company is not valuable enough for me to put myself through that kind of psychological trauma.

Also, don't even get me started on school toilets! Well, not that I've said that, I simply have to rant. Those are the rules of personal blogs.
SO, the toilets in my school are utterly and indescribably horrific. Stupid A-hole youths think it is absolutely hilarious of glorifying to break the locks off the cubicle doors. I'm sure one day karma will come back their way and strike them down dead for their terrible misdeeds, but that is getting off topic. Since there are no locks on the cubicles, I will not go in them. I have skipped lessons many times so that I can merely go home and use the toilet. For poops, of course. Peeing in school is fine, as long as I can stick to my Lavatory Checklist.

[ ]  There must never be more than two other people in the toilet.
[ ]  There must always be a cubicle free (after many bad experiences, I am now urinal-shy).
[ ]  There must never be any form of verbal or non-verbal communication in the bathroom. This includes eye contact.
[ ]  And finally, there must be a tolerable amount of cleanliness in the toilet or I will simply walk away and hold it till I can either find a suitable toilet, or my bladder kills itself.

So there you have it. There is my rant on toilet doors.
For those sick people out there who have no locks on their toilet doors, just know that you are the reason our society is so far from an idealised notion of utopia. I hope you're happy.
You're ruining Earth. Thanks a lot.

Ciao. x

Friday, 7 October 2011

The Stick Farm

I am writing this entire thing on my iPhone so it will probably be a lot shorter than normal. I am actually going insane without a laptop.

Ok, so this blog is dedicated to a friend of mine. Let's call her Wendy. So, Wendy is a friend of ours in the year below us. We playfully joke about how she is stupid, when in fact she is not. She is just utterly and unbelievably gullible. Almost to the point where she borders stupidity. It is a fine and faded line, if you ask me.

I met Wandy whilst touring Tasmania with the rest of the upper school music students. That was how the whole story begins!
Before I begin, just know that Wendy is great, really nice and all of our actions were not out of cruelty, but playful jesting. Promise.

So, the first humerous event was in the early days of the Taswegian tour. My friends made tacos for dinner, but it soon turned into a taco fight. Wendy arrived later on, just in time for the last taco. Which happened to be made of meat mixed with orange juice and taco ingredients that had previously been tossed around the small apartment thing we were staying in. The ingredients were piled together and drowned in a glass of orange juice. This was then poured into a taco shell, et voilĂ ! A perfectly safe taco!
After Laura arrived, she happily ate the entire thing, despite everyone laughing for "no apparent reason". She then continued to compliment them on their hard labour in the kitchen and claimed it to be the best taco she'd ever eaten. My guess is that she's never had tacos before.

There were many other tricks that we played on dear old Wendy, including making her believe I am good friends with Michael Jackson's nephew, but one particular lie we told her sticks out above the rest.

This is the story of my uncle's stick farm.
To this day, Wendy still believes this story is true. Bless her.

We led sweet little Wendy to believe that my uncle owns a stick farm, which is a farm that grows a variety of trees to harvest the sticks. My uncle employed me at his stick farm, and pays me $20 an hour to walk around, picking up sticks. We then go through all the sticks and find some sticks worth selling at the market.
What sticks are worth selling, you might ask?
Sticks that resemble celebrities, of course!
We had them all! Beyoncé sticks, Chris Brown sticks, Justin Bieber sticks, you name it! Not just pop stars, either. We had many categories, including actors, politicians and even hostorical sticks, such as sticks that looked like the Statue of Liberty.

My uncle's stick farm is actually a very large business. It takes a lot of work and experienced staff to manage such a complicated industry. We need highly trained stick collectors, such as myself, stick managers, people to plant and maintain the trees, tour guides, people to advertise and sell the sticks, gift shop runners, Thai children to make stick farm t-shirts, and all sorts. It's been a family business for generations, but we're starting to expand our trade overseas to buyers such as Iceland, Spain, China and Indonesia. Celebrity sticks are of very high demand at the moment. Not just in Australia. But it's not just celebrity sticks. We have a wide range of sticky goodness! Not many people know this, but my uncle's company actually supplied the stick that was used for Dumbledore's wand in the Harry Potter novies. Warner Bros paid us a really big sum for the stick. It was our lucky break.
Since it's such a booming business and my uncle has no children, the company will one day be left in my name. I will inherit millions.

Wendy believed every word of it.