I truly hate to admit this, I'm sitting here cringing, but...........I've been brainwashed, I've been corrupted and I've been hijacked, also, I'm in love with a teenager.

Kill meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

I'm talking about that horrid cult known as TWILIGHT. You know, the series of vampire books making Stephanie Meyer a gazillionaire? The books and now movies that have horny teenagers and lustful cougars both wetting their knickers in complete and utter lust over the one and only Edward Cullen???

If not, you surely must live in a cave or..........only read quality fiction, however, it's pretty hard to ignore. It seems most of the female population of the world is currently enamored with this Edward dude, the debonair Vampire who's a combination of sex on legs and a complete gentleman, OR, and this is where my shame comes in, totally fantasizing over the wolf boy, Jacob Black. Swoooooooooooooon!!

I first got sucked in by my teenage cousin, who prior to reading Twilight, only ever read the likes of Dolly or Girlfriend magazine. She would escape to her room for hours and emerge all silly and breathless and glassy eyed. Of course we immediately did a sweep of her room for drugs and then sex toys.......What? It IS possible to send yourself demented if you're fiddling with yourself too much, trust me on THAT, so anyway, all we ever discovered was this book. She must have read it at least ten times! Unheard of for her!

So one day when I was visiting my aunt, her mum, I just happened to pick the book up, and that was it. Read it cover to cover in about a day and a half.
I'm the first to admit it is NOT a work of literary art, I'm pretty sure a twelve year old could have written it, kinda like this blog really,It's simple, it's almost TOO easy to devour, but dayum it's a good read and it hits the spot. *cough*

Most chicks I know are going gaga over Edward, and ok, he's pretty cute, but myself, I'm going all dirty paedo and lusting after Jacob, the teenage warewolf. Reeeooowwwwwwwwww!!! The things I would do to that boy! It's almost illegal.............maybe it already is in some states, who cares, all I know is that I haven't lusted after a fictional character with as much passion since I wanted to do wicked things with Darth Vadar back in the day. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh be still my tingling loins!!!

Clearly, I need help. I'm not proud of my affliction, I've tried hard to control it, but with the latest movie coming out I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be one of the screaming, squirming, mini orgasming wenches in the front row making a complete twat of myself when Jacob appears on the screen.

We all have our cross to bear. Don't hate! *sigh* I'm off to google more topless shots of the boy/dog.
Ciao.

******UPDATE******

So I went and watched New Moon last night and was totally gutted! Yes I got my fill of teenage boy eyecandy, yes I drooled and wet myself just a little, but holy snapping duck shit this film is BAAAAAAAD. I mean really BAD as in fucking terrible!!
The complete fucking Noddies who produced and directed this flick totally butchered it. It was six shades of LAME and I utterly distraught at what they have done to this story. Maybe they were aiming solely for the teenage girl market, but let me tell you, there more than a few pubescent tears shed over how deplorable this movie is.

I'm gobsmacked! If you are true Twihard, save your money and just go read the book again or you will be sorely disappointed.

*cries*

This post is gonna be a bit disjointed and probably rambling, but bear with me, I don't have time to organise my thoughts and make this pretty........not that I ever do really but anyway, we'll stumble on.

So, something happened over the weekend that made me question lots of things about blogging, and this quasi 'relationship' bloggers have with their readers. I'm not going to go into details of why I'm in a quandary, suffice to say I was genuinely upset and hurt by something I discovered and it made me question the whole "bloggy community" ideal.
My problem with the situation raised the question of whether I had any right to feel upset at all. What claims do I have over the writers of blogs I read? How dare I expect anything in return for reading someone's blog. It's only the internet right? I should be bloody honoured to even be allowed to read someone else's thoughts, learn things about their life etc, who am I to make judgments? At the end of the day it all ends with a click of the mouse on the little red X in the corner. Right? There is NO relationship, there is no 'ownership' for want of a better word, we're all just faceless, nameless, blips on a screen.

Well no, I don't agree. I believe that if you publish a journal on the web, then firstly, you WANT an audience. If you then enable comments you are inviting strangers into your life. You're asking for feedback on what you've written, you're seeking some kind of interaction. If you then respond to comments, go and visit the posters who left comments, engage them on their own blog as well as yours and then either email, chat, facebook or whatever, then you are building a relationship. The idea that because it's "only the internet" and therefore doesn't count is just bullshit in my opinion.
Behind each monitor sits a real, live, human being and we do become involved, sometimes we do feel genuine affection for the people behind the blogs we read, we do worry for them, share their joys, invest emotionally in them and quasi relationship is often formed.

So then what does that mean for the blogger? What, if anything, do we "owe" our readers?
Lots of people would argue we owe nothing. Not a damn thing. After all we can walk away at any time, delete the whole shebang and everyone behind the screen ceases to exist right? Fuck the people of cyberspace, it's not like we're gonna bump into them down at the local shops, we have enough of our own problems and hassles with people in our offline lives, we have no responsibility to our readers, at the end of the day they can go whistle.

I don't agree, but then where do you draw the line?
For a long time I was like a performing seal in here, I felt so much pressure to "perform" to get the laughs, and I became very one dimensional, I still AM one dimensional really because I'm very selective about what I reveal in here now, I'm careful about what parts of myself I share and so you're not getting the whole picture really, I'm holding back. You THINK you know me, you only know what I show you, therefore how can you have any real connection to me, and then how can you feel slighted if I suddenly decided to delete this site or turn it into a political blog (ha! can you imagine!) or I turn out to be someone totally different from what you had imagined, OR at a stretch, I was perfectly healthy and alive after you'd assumed I'd died tragically?

These are the questions that caused me some dramaqueen like angst over the weekend and earlier this week.
Who the hell am I to judge? Should I not be content to just read a blog and stay detached, not involve myself emotionally, just take it at face value, enjoy it for what it is, then shut down my computer and be done with it?

I don't know. You tell me.
Bloggers, what do you think? Do you owe your readers anything? Do you feel you have a relationship with your readers and therefore have some responsibility towards them? Fill me in, tell me I'm an overthinking knob, just be honest.

Bloggy readers, and especially you lurkers who don't get involved at all save for reading the words on the screen, what do you think? You can email me if you want to remain anon on here, do you feel a connection to the blogger? What does that mean for you?

It's doing my head in!! Help a chick out!

This edition of Go And Get Fkd is dedicated to boobie haters! Those tsk, tsking, god bothering morons who roll their eyes or glare angrily or even lustfully at women with NIPPLE STAG!

What is up with THAT?

Do you think a chick is trying to deliberately offend you/arouse you because she has the audacity to have erect nipples visible in public??? Do you think she is ducking behind shrugs to give em a good tweak before jumping out in front of you trying to take your eye out with her boob wood??



FFS! It's a natural and totally normal event and if you happen to have particularly sensitive nips like me, then they can stand to attention and salute the world for no apparent reason at ALL. I don't have to be cold or aroused for them to pop up, they just DO, they have a mind of their own apparently.

I refuse to wear Hollywood tape, or cross my arms or throw on extra clothing just because my nipples could pick a lock. Why should I???



I've had enough of the judgmental stares from some or the leery, winking, suggestive looks from others. I'm standing up and telling the world that Nipple stag is completely normal and we should all embrace the NIP and those that don't agree can go and GET FUKD!!!!!!!

Hooray for Nipples!


Post by KYLIE!!

During a discussion at work the other day, a male colleague of mine was talking about the "sistahood", the supposed phenomenon of all women sticking together, a universal clique of gender that were out to support each other in some meteoric quest for world domination, and general cockblocking of all men.

What a complete and utter load of SHIT.

The older I get, the more I realise that this "sistahood" does not exist, in any way, shape or form. Women are way more competative against other woman than they ever would be against a man, and that relates to both the social and business world. Woman are way nastier to other women than they are to men, women are totally more critical, judgmental and suspicious of other women than they are men, and worst of all, they are more likely to kick the chair out from under a fellow "sister", than they would be to throw some man under the bus.

In the corporate world there is all this talk of glass ceilings and how women have to be twice the man any male is to reach an equal position of salary and respect. This is somewhat true, but as more and more women are reaching the upper echelons of power and esteem, it's becoming apparent that the people they are stepping on to reach the top, are other women, but worse than THAT, it's these women in upper management who are sabotaging other females from reaching, or surpassing the goals that they themselves have achieved.

Yes, business is dog eat dog, only the tough survive, but what I'm finding more and more, especially in the industry I work in, is that I'd much sooner work WITH, and FOR, men. The lack of support, the petty jealousies, the sexist suspicion (and that is the freakiest, this weird fear from older female colegues in particular that I'm using my 'feminine wyles' to get what I want or to advance my career) makes working with or for women, fucking tedious and downright disheartening.
The gossip, the undermining, the bitchiness is very hard to swallow, and it's not just in the corporate world.

I have a dear friend who for reasons I won't disclose here has chosen a very alternative lifestyle. She's not a slave to the dollar, she lives very frugally and self sufficiently in Byron Bay, but don't for one second think the hippie way of life is all about peace, love and mung beans.
I was gobsmacked to learn that there is a very definite hierarchy amongst the women in some communes there, and that when she first moved there ALL the women were very suspicious of her and very protective of their men. Until she could prove that she wasn't out to become the Sex Goddess Of The Bay and that all the men were 'safe' from her magical vagina, she was totally snubbed, made to feel unwelcome and gossiped about.

Socially, I have another awesome friend who unfortunately is dating a very high profile sportsman. I say unfortunately because her boyfriend is preyed upon by the Charmyne Pavlavi's of this world. The star fuckers who think that by leasing some space in their flange, they too can have some notoriety, a share of the spotlight, and some much needed self esteem.
These horrid wenches think nothing of pushing my friend out of the way to lunge at her man, they think nothing of writing their phone number on his hand, grabbing at his crotch, or rubbing their boobs in his face, they email him, they send him messages on Fakebook, ALL THE WHILE KNOWING HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND!

Sisterhood my arse!! It does not exist!

Sure, I have a fantastic group of friends, and we'd all hide the bodies for each other no question, but expand that circle a bit and you will find a bitter, jealous, "sista" on the outskirts, just waiting to stick the knife in or trip you over in your six inch heels.

It's sad and not often spoken about, but this is the truth as I see it. This idea of a 'fellowship' of women is a total and utter MYTH!!

Right about now, I should be enjoying a cruise around New Caledonia and Vanuatu, getting my drink on, lurching around the deck getting hit on by drunk boys, and working on a killer fucking tan. Instead I'm at work, up to my eyeballs in tedious shite and brainlessly blogging. Why? Settle back kiddies and read a tale about how my holiday was ruined before it began, but also how my faith in karma was restored. (It's a long post, bring snacks)

Earlier this year I decided I'd like a short break before Christmas and started researching short holidays that myself and the boy could enjoy. Due to work constraints, we could not find a time that worked for him, so it was decided that I and maybe three of my friends would go instead. I decided a cruise would be just the ticket and set about organising it.

This was harder than I thought it would be, everyone wanted to go, but hardly anyone could arrange time off work, or else they didn't have the cash, but eventually three of us went down to Flight Center to book the cruise. Yay and horrah, excited much, etc etc.

Two weeks later it started to go pear shaped. First Kylie pulled out, she dogged me for some Canadian she's been rooting, nice, but not a real huge deal, she sold her ticket to a mutual friend of ours, Matty, it was all good, but then Mischa lost her job and Tash just decided she couldn't be arsed, so it was me all on my lonesome with Matt and two tickets to offload.

Now, in every group of friends, there are those fringe dwellers that always seem to tag along in group events, you know the ones, not exactly your favourite people but they're friends of your friends and when you get on the piss you don't really care that they annoy christ out of you any other time. In our group there's Hayley. (Hi if you're reading this you quivering twat) and she's one of those people that set your teeth on edge. Super loud, obnoxious, fake, pain in the rectum. She always manages to take over events, for example, one time I decided it would be fun to get a box seat at the cricket (I know, what was I thinking? Fun and cricket in the same sentence, bah) and she overheard, so of course then she says "Oh I'd love that, and so would Amy and Chris and Marianne, and every other fucker you've never heard of but are friends of mine and I'm gonna go ring them right now and arrange it". Argggh.

So unfortunately for moi, when I was having a sook about my so called friends deserting me in my time of cruise ship debauchery, Hayley piped up and promptly took over! How I let this happen is quite beyond me, I can't even pinpoint the moment it went from me shaking my head saying "Nooooooooo, I've actually sold the tickets" to her going behind my back, tracking down both Mischa and Tash and buying the fucking things!

What to do, what to dooooooooooooo (besides kicking the two scoundrels who sold the tickets fair in the gina)??
What happened next would be funny if it weren't so tragic, I ended up in a heated, screaming match with Hayley, I was fed up with her pushy, manipulative ways, sick of her ruining things that should be fun and absolutely gutted that she had taken over my longed for holiday.
Pretty sure I told her that I'd sooner shoot my happy place with a nail gun than go on a cruise with her.....or words to that effect. She was not best pleased and proceeded to get up in my face and yell back at me that if I didn't like it, I could fuck off, because she and another friend of hers, were going, and that's that.

The nerve!!
Ok, so then I may have lost it a bit and maybe I threw a bowl of peanuts at her, but she totally lost HER shit and started yelling that I assaulted her. *sigh*
Fast forward to the following Monday and me trying to get out of the cruise. Do you think for a second P and O or Flight Center were any help? Oh hell noooooo. Each told me the other was responsible for issuing refunds and it was only done in extreme circumstances. Personally, I think the possibility of me kicking Hayley in the flange so hard her ovaries would end up hanging off her ears was pretty extreme, but they didn't agree. The hunt then began for someone to buy my ticket.
What a darrrrrrrraaaaaaaammmmmmmma!

In the meantime this whore is on Facebook telling the world what a bitch I am and how funny it is that I'm gonna lose 1,800 big ones if nobody buys my ticket.? Argggh I hate her!
Eventually, three weeks later, I manage to offload my ticket at a loss of $500, but I'm prepared to wear it, there is no way on God's green earth I could share a cabin with that guttersnipe and not throw her overboard. Prison green just ain't my colour.

So, the day of departure arrives, I'm feeling pretty shit and sorry for myself, cursing the world, they sail away and I hope the ship sinks or gets attacked by pirates.
Of course, that didn't happen, but something better did.

Matty, the mutual friend I spoke about earlier, is a massive player. He could sweet talk the knickers of a devout Catholic nun, and it was inevitable that he would shag both Hayley and her friend at some point on the cruise.................Try within three days. Three days and he had rogered them both senseless.
This of course caused massive friction between the two girls, and it was sorely exacerbated when he then went on the hunt for more horny cruise wimmins to root. Oh, for the record Hayley, he described riding you thusly- " It was like pumping a soggy lettuce ". Ohhh how I LOLed.
So anyway, she loses her shit one night in the bar, yells at him for ruining HER holiday, (oh yes the delicious ironing) and when he dared to laugh at her she attacked him. With her shoes.

I am pleased to report that Hayley was promptly kicked off cruise ship by security and is awaiting a flight home. No compensation, no refund, no nothing.........oh wait, she does have a pending assault charge to answer and a ten year ban from any P and O cruises.

Huzzahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! Happy dance!!
Karma my friends, be a cold, hard, bitch.
End of.

There have been some excellent posts on the evils of Crackbook recently, you can find one here and another there. Both illustrate what an abomination this internest time waster is, but nothing can prepare a person for the horror of ones mother signing up.

Let me preface this by saying I don't Facebook, I don't Twit or My Spaz either, and I'm happy to keep it that way. I will admit to logging into my sisters profile to stalk people I need to, but as for having others stalk my arse........no thanks. So you can imagine my bemusement when I got a text yesterday from a friend saying "Err, your mum just added me on FB. Awkward much!"

Muuuuuuuuum! Why oh why, oh why?? Bless her, even though she's a primary school teacher, she just doesn't get the web. Sure she can google like nobodies business, and read the odd blog or two, (Wave to my mother), but this whole FB thing is just beyond her.

Want proof? Well she's adding people she doesn't even KNOW for one thing, (Ok she's not on her own there, I know many of you add randoms, you can admit it) but the thing with mum is that when she sees a "Friend suggestion" she thinks it's a friend request and immediately clicks to confirm. Hence she has added my cousin's, neighbour's, sisters friend, and relatives of both my brothers and sisters FRIENDS! My own friends are too polite to ignore the request so of course they are accepting and then freaking out about her seeing their half naked, drunk dancing, pics and videos from the weekend.

She pokes, she does all the stupid friggin quizzes, she has a bloody farm and is part of a mafia crew too, which is all harmless, but she has discovered a new found passion for uploading disgracefully, cringeworthy pictures. Christ alive! I can't tell you the horrors I went into when people started to text me about seeing my nekkid baby pics and deplorable high school shots on the net! Whyyyyyyyyyy????

The funniest thing about it though, is seeing her comment on people's status updates. My cousin Rob who likes to think himself quite the laydees man, has as his status last Friday -

" Goin to tune some cougars at the ARI"-

Translated into human that means "Going to hit on some desperate old whores at the local Returned Serviceman's club". Mum responded with the comment- "There are cougars at the RSL? Is there a show?" to which many "LOL"ing and "Good one Mrs Shaw" comments were added. What did she think was going on there? A scary petting zoo??

Another good one was from a friend of my brother's who had- "Pingin' YEAHHHHHHH!!" as his status. Not missing a beat, mum replied, "You sound happy :)". Yes, with a smiley face. My brother responded, "Of course he's happy he's off his head on E". Errrrrrrrr.



I'm starting to think that maybe there needs to be a seperate FB for the over 50's, because I dunno about you, but seeing my mum's "How naughty are you?" score, just about scarred me for life..........
but not quite though...............The thing that made both myself and my thirteen year old nephew Cameron want to take out our own eyeballs with rusted barbed wire, was a status update from the woman herself. Brace yourself.


****Shaw- Is feeling frisky! Goodnight!

Cam replied with- NAN!! Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!

And that pretty much sums it up.
I'm off to try and hack her account, I don't know how much more therapy I can afford!!

**Further proof that FB is teh EVILNESS**

** Written by KYLIE**Making a sex tape with your current shag is fun. No doubt. At the time it's hot, frantic, and sexy as.....well sexy as fuck.

But watching it back later............not so much. In fact, I think it killed my libido. Epic Orgasmo FAIL!

Things I learned about myself after viewing said sex tape.

1. I have THE most ridiculous cum face EVER in the history of cum faces. I look like I'm having a SEIZURE! That or a mini stroke of some kind.

2. You know the sounds you make during orgasm that you think sound really hot and porntacular? No. Just no. I sound like a dog that's been reversed over by ten tonne truck and then kicked in the tits for good measure.

3. Speaking of tits. Wow. When did they end up in my ARMPITS!!

4. Cellulite. What? You think you don't have some on your arse cos you're like super buff? Pfft!! If you are female and live on more than water and lettuce, you have dimples on your arse... LIKE MEEEEE!

5. There are NO flattering positions when you're humping. NONE.

6. Talking dirty? CRINGE much???

If you are gonna go ahead and make a sex tape anyway, regardless of the fact that you WILL look like a complete tool and never want to make the sex again EVER for fear of looking like failtard you are, please, for the love of all that's unholy, keep the volume OFF. There is nothing sexy about the bodily noises and emissions during a thorough pounding. Sexay? Fanny farts are not!!