Home | Join! | Help | Browse | Forums | NuWorld | NWF | PoPo   
just spent the weekend at the army barracks
Is Chewing On

Gore Vidal

Listening to:

Everything in Transit
Jack's Mannequin
Lick Those Stripes!
This is a Flickr badge showing public photos from Jamesies. Make your own badge here.
The Herd
Carresser of Annabelle
Crazy Lone Ranger
Island Sinker
Labert Leopard
Lego Man
Shakin' That Ass
Sloth Min
Uber Bitch Jase
Van Ren


Join One Thousand Bloggers

Songs of the Plains
Family Court

One would be in less danger
From the wiles of a stranger
If one's own kin and kith
Were more fun to be with.

Ogden Nash
Sunday. 11.23.03 9.12 pm
I met a guy. I went to a sort of gathering not expecting much fun out of it. But then I found myself sitting beside this guy and we hit it off right away. True, he did use a dirty trick – he started talking about rugby. I was hooked. From rugby, we went on to other stuff, hippety-hoppety-ing from one topic to the next, and he was so easy to talk to. And he was witty too! How often do you find a guy you barely know who has you clutching your sides, gasping for laughter? I was so glad I’d gone for the gathering. Throughout the 4 hours or so, I was sort of hitting on him yet trying not to seem too obvious. And whoa, was I mentally grinning from ear to ear when he gave me his contact details and told me to look him up if ever I was in the neighbourhood.

Gathering over, and this zebra was wagging her tail happily all the way back to the car. Until someone I was driving with casually asked what Hippety Hoppety Guy and I had been talking about? So I mumbled a reply, and then he remarked offhand – oh, by the way...did you know that he’s gay?

GAY?!!!!!!!!!!!!! As in not straight?!!! As in my dad would have a better chance with him than I would?!! As in GAY?!!!! AAAAAARGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!! Why why why why why why why dammit why?! I even got his numbeeeeeeeeeeeer. Sob. Sob. Sobsobsobsobsobsobsob.

It’s not fair.

Comment! (3) | Recommend! | Categories: , ,

It Wasn't Me
Wednesday. 8.23.06 3:18 pm
They say that you can tell a person's character by the company he or she keeps.

A couple of my friends have just been issued a court summons for peeing in public.

At another friend's house, we sit on stolen café chairs.

In yet another house, I tripped over what used to be the 'C' in Coles before it was pried off the side of the building.

Oh dear.

Comment! (11) | Recommend! (2) | Categories:

Mouth to Mouth
Tuesday. 2.10.04 9:31 pm
I strangled a cat last night. At least I dreamt I did. Not a particularly traumatic dream...until I woke up to find my fingers wrapped tightly around something warm and soft.

It was at this point that I recalled my dog jumping onto my bed earlier that night to wrestle my blankets from me. The same dachshund with a warm and soft neck – rather like what I was gripping so strongly.

I became slightly agitated when I realised abovementioned Warm & Soft Thing wasn’t moving. I contemplated having to administer Mouth to Mouth to something whose breath could rival the foulest of dragons. Then I thought it best to open my eyes and check exactly how far gone she was first.

Warm & Soft Thing turned out to be my upper arm – numb from reduced blood flow.

Whew. No mouth to mouth after all.

Comment! (2) | Recommend! | Categories:

Copper Blues
Monday. 8.23.04 9:34 pm
I’ve just had my first encounter with a cop. And no, it didn’t involve handcuffs and flashing lights.

I’d parked my car in a tight (illegal) spot yesterday. It was at a rugby tourney, so all the proper lots’d been taken up. And I couldn’t not park, as I was a lines(wo)man/touch judge for the same tourney. So technically, I wasn’t at fault. I should have demanded a reserved lot or they could bloody well judge their lines themselves.

When I returned to my parking spot later in the evening, I found a different car waiting for me. This unfamiliar-looking vehicle sported a rather odd-shaped rear, with dents along its side. Its bumper looked a little wonky too, barely hanging on in fact. And there was garish green paint scraped all over the right side of the car, marring its lovely silver finish. Rather distasteful really. Some people really did have the oddest tastes.

I turned around and clicked on the car remote. And heard the funny car beeping behind me. Holyjesusshitwasthatmycar?!!!!! License plate? Check. Honda emblem ripped off the side window? Check. I collapsed to the ground and burst into tears.

After a refreshing cry, I picked up a largish rock and went on a hunt for a green car with silver scrapes down its left. No luck. The bastard must’ve torn off after he murdered my car. I hope he managed to drive himself off a bridge later that night.

I walked desolately back to my car and got in. After closing the door gently (in case it fell off), I drove carefully to a police station to lodge a report, all the while keeping an eye out for a stray bumper lying on the road behind. And it was there that I met the cop who’d give the word ‘daft’ a whole new meaning.

He had a toothpick in his mouth and a gleam in his eye. Not the gleam of shrewdness however, it was the glare of the tv reflecting off the vacant stare from an equally vacant mind. A dimwitted cow would have looked a frillion times more intelligent next to the Daft Cop.

No matter. I had faith in the force. These people were the ones I’d depend on if I were kidnapped and left in the boot of a clunker to die. I took a hopeful breath and described to the DC what had happened and handed him some pictures I’d taken of my poor Honda’s misery. He peered at them and nodded to himself as if this sort of thing occurred all the time. Then he looked at me appraisingly. My heart leapt. Perhaps I’d misjudged him. It wasn’t the empty stare of a halfwit I’d seen, maybe it was the preoccupied stare of a man lost in thought, trying to solve the myriad of cases on his desk. As hope dawned on my face, he cleared his throat. He was about to speak! I waited with bated breath…

“The paint. It’s yellow.”

I blinked. “Umm, no. It’s green actually. The car which got mine was probably green.”

“Why is there yellow paint on your car?”

“Nono, it’s green. And it’s from the car which hit mine”.

“Is your car yellow?”

“Is it wha-? It’s silver! Look at it!”

The DC glared at me. “I meant was it yellow before you painted it silver?”

“No! It was silver! It’s always been silver! And that’s not yellow, it’s green, green! From the other car!”

Somehow, something finally got through to him. “Hang on a tic, that paint’s green! Do you have any green cars at home?”

“Wha-?! No! It’s green because the car – That. Hit. It. Was. GREEN.”

“Maybe your gate’s green. Did you reverse into it?”

“No I didn’t bloody reverse into my gate! I parked my car and it was fine and when I got back, it wasn’t fine anymore! A green car hit it!”

“No, wait!” His brow furrowed as a new theory hit him. “Maybe…maybe another car hit yours. And maybe…it was green!”

He smirked at me in satisfaction. I could only stare back in absolute flummox. I hoped to god I’ll never be tied up in the boot of someone’s car.

Comment! (4) | Recommend! | Categories: ,

The Consequences
Wednesday. 4.5.06 10:02 am
Phone: *Rings*

Me: Hullo?
NG: Hi, it's me, Norwegian guy.
Me: Err, hi! How're you doing?
NG: I'm good, I'm good. A bit hungover, but I'm doing pretty well, thanks. I had a really great        time last night.
Me: *Really regrets last night* Um..yeah, I did too.
NG: Hey, I'd really like to see you today. How about a picnic later? I'll pick you up and we could go        to King's Park or something.

//Alarm bells go off in my head. PICNIC! Next thing I know, he'll be suggesting moonlit walks on the beach and watching the sunset from a river cruise!//

Me: Uhh...about that...you see, I...err, it's not you, it's...no, what I mean to say is...well...err...I-       I, err, I... *Sighs* Well, to be honest, I like another guy. (I thought that it might be a bit        cruel to say "other guys".)

//Long pause//

NG: Oh. I see. Ok.
Me: Ok?
NG: *Subdued* Yeah. I mean, if you like someone else, that's your thing. Nothing I can do about        it.
Knife: *Stabs into my heart*
Me: I'm really sorry about this...
NG: *Even more subdued* No, no. Nothing to be sorry about.
Knife: *Sinks further in and starts to twist*

//Dammit, why won't he call me a bitch? I want to beg him to yell at me, swear at me, ANYTHING, just as long as he stops sounding so fucking dejected. I'm writhing on the floor with self-hate right now. God, someone end my misery.//

Me: But I really am sorry.
NG: Ok.
Me: I'll see you at soccer, alright?
NG: Alright.
Me: Ok...bye then.
NG: Bye.

I hang up in relief. What a nightmare. At least I won't have to face him for another four days.

//One hour later//

Phone: *Rings*

NG: Hi again. Listen, I know you don't like relationships, so I was just wondering, how do you feel        about something casual instead?

Comment! (107) | Recommend! | Categories: ,

Wee Man Eaters
Thursday. 8.25.05 8:21 pm
Going through this week's papers (too lazy to read them earlier), I came across this article:

"Datuk Dr S. H Foo received a “warm welcome” at the zoo here from Nicky, the tiger cub he saved from the cooking pot.

The 58-year-old Malaysian Trade Commissioner to Papua New Guinea said he was happy to meet the tiger cub, which “showered” him with gentle bites as he held it.

“This is not a bite, it’s a kiss from Nicky,” said Dr Foo as he wiped off some blood on his right palm."

Let me just repeat that last bit for you.

“This is not a bite, it’s a kiss from Nicky,” said Dr Foo as he wiped off some blood on his right palm.


A tiger bit the guy repeatedly, breaking the skin, and he calmly wiped the blood off with an "oh how sweet"?! HULLO! I'm really not sure how one goes about rearing a tiger cub, but I'm pretty sure it shouldn't involve letting the little man-eater taste human blood. I mean, come on! You really wanna teach something that's gonna grow up to be a 250-pound killing machine that we taste good?


Comment! (8) | Recommend! | Categories: ,

Westralian Mishaps
Wednesday. 2.8.06 1:10 pm
I was told that I would be bored to tears in Perth. The Melburnians said so and the Sydneysiders said so. And when even the Adelaidians looked at me with pity in their eyes, I resigned myself to a year of Sudoku and Futurama videos.

But I seem to have been worried over nothing. If the past couple of days were anything to go by, Perth promises to be quite an eventful village city. In this short period of time, I’ve already managed to:
  • Lock myself out of the house
    The front door is equipped with one of those secure locks – the sort that can only be opened by a coded metal tag – to keep out the plebs. Unfortunately, there’s also a trick to opening it, and I was somewhat distracted (i.e. too caught up admiring my reflection in the glass) when the lock mechanism was explained to me. It took a good half hour of running around with a threateningly full bladder before I finally found someone to let me into the house (and the loo).

  • Trap myself in the computer lab
    I was exploring the campus and thought I’d try out one of the computers. The thing is, I needed to swipe a student card to get in and I didn’t have one yet. Nothing to worry about as I simply slipped in after someone else. But what I didn’t know was that I needed to swipe out as well. When I finally got up to leave, the only other person in the lab had already disappeared (inconsiderate little shit). I had to hammer on the glass window till some guy noticed me from the outside. I just hope he’s not a Psych student too.

  • Set fire to my first self-cooked dinner
    How was I to know that fried steak’s so flammable? Lucky it happened in Wombat’s kitchen and not mine, since there’s a $300 fine for setting off the smoke alarm in my house. Note to self: blowing on a flaming pan only makes it worse.

  • Be groped by some perv on a bicycle
    In hindsight, “Dammit, he's ugly” should probably not have been my initial reaction.

Comment! (17) | Recommend! | Categories: ,

Icky Poo
Friday. 6.24.05 2:54 am
I saw a long white scratch on my car today. I nearly died. And I tried to rub it out with my finger. It came off easily. Too easily.

It was bird poo.

Comment! (2) | Recommend! | Categories:

Page: 1 2
theZEBRA's Weblog Site • NuTang.com

NuTang is the first web site to implement PPGY Technology. This page was generated in 0.010seconds.

  Send to a friend on AIM | Set as Homepage | Bookmark Home | NuTang Collage | Terms of Service & Privacy Policy | Link to Us | Monthly Top 10s
All content Copyright 2003-2047 NuTang.com and respective members. Contact us at NuTang[AT]gmail.com.