Bloody hell, what’s been happening at my blog? Suddenly it’s all camp and corn syrup around here and it’s not even Halloween! Time to chill out, yeah?
Look I’ll be honest. This post is geared a little more toward people who actually care about me. If I mean nothing to you, then I don’t really see how any of my blog posts would mean anything to you in the first place!
Anyway I’m still really freaked out because I am convinced there are lyrical and conceptual SIMILARITIES between the Miley Cyrus song Wrecking Ball and my song Your Star. That’s probably the best way to put it, if you know what I’m saying. I hope you do! Before Miley Cyrus came in like a wrecking ball, I swept in like a cataclysm. Okay? The strength is now diminished in what I hoped would be my signature song. All so that dumb and undeserving little twat can have her moment. Not a care in the world about what it does to me.
Plus I seem to be attracting a lot of negative criticism lately at this blog (Hmm, I wonder how I’m doing that?) from people with some of the most disgusting psychic energy I have ever encountered thus far in my life. It’s a fucking monster mash and it’s not even Halloween!
The good news is, Partner is back from America. Hence the chill out sesh.
Thank goodness he never got mowed down in Oklahoma like that other poor Aussie. How utterly senseless. I used to think the United States was generally safe with sporadic violence. It’s apparent now the United States is generally violent with sporadic safety.
I’m an American! I can say whatever I want.
As I was saying, Partner is back. His Green Card is still green. We’re still having a melt down over whether or not to relocate there. I swear we are taking as long as a kitchen remodel over whether to do this or not. That should give you an idea of the scale and scope of things here. It’s a fucking kitchen remodel. Not literally, but you know what I mean. We want to be in the U.S. but we also want to be in Australia. We just want to be everywhere! Financially we aren’t ready to stretch that far yet. It’s a really big stretch. Sometimes, you just need to chill out.
It’s way too early in my “career” to become a substance abuser and herbs will only get you so far. But never underestimate the power of a honey, lemon and ginger gargle for the voice, I tell you! Fucking marvellous, it is. That should give you an idea of how much an amateur I still am, and perhaps why it is so easy for unscrupulous people to write songs similar to mine. Anyway, I digress.
Unbeknownst to me, a gorgeous little gift from the universe was on it’s way to help me calm down and chill the fuck out.
No, I am not pregnant! I do have a penis, you know. Besides if I ever did get pregnant, everything else would come to a screeching halt and I am not ready for that. I am speaking of a low chill cherry tree! Suitable for subtropical gardens! I ordered the tree at least 2 YEARS AGO and it was finally ready.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a low chill cherry tree, suitable for subtropical gardens? Very hard! I ordered it so long ago, I almost forgot about it. This new little tree doesn’t seem to be a named variety. It’s either very new or very exclusive. How proper! An ornamental cherry tree with single pink blooms in spring. Ahh, I’m chilling, ladies and lords. Totes chilling now. But not when it first arrived!
I have been living in Australia for as long as – well for a while now, and I have never once received a delivery on a Saturday morning. Or a Saturday full stop! In America it’s commonplace, but not here. I just assumed Aussie delivery men were kept on ice when not in use, you know, chilling or something over the weekend. Drinking beer and watching footy. Until you want something and you need to order them again!
There I was, in my office, SLAVING AWAY for Gaytriarch when the doorbell rang unexpectedly. Well, Joan and Jesus Crawford Christ, I nearly screamed my moobs off! I nearly lost my moobies; my man boobs. How convenient that would have been. If only the doorbell rang louder!
It could have saved me from going under the knife. Now I suppose I’ll just have to write another song – and not upload this one to Youtube for packs of thieves to feast themselves on. Then win, I don’t know, some sort of competition or get discovered or SOMETHING. And everything will be okay. It will be okay! Let’s just chill, and sip on Mount Gay. Hey, hey.
P.S. If you don’t know by now that Mount Gay is the rum I drink, you don’t deserve to be here! Just like Miley Cyrus! Just like my critics! Fuck off, why don’t you? xx