look look at me

LOOK RIGHT. NOW. THIS JUST HAPPENED.

The lovely Kelly nominated me for Best Humour Blog in the Blogger's Choice Awards! I realise that most people would probably be a little less excited and a little more modest right now, but that is not what I am about.

I'd like to thank the Academy Kelly very much for nominating me - especially for nominating me in the Humour section and not the Most Obnoxious Blog section! Interesting call.

Hey I know that I have no chance of winning this award because ten million kabillion blogs have been nominated and most of them are probably funnier than mine, but imagine if I gained a huge internet following & was eventually subject of a movie called 'The Underblog' please vote for me anyway because that would be nice and mean a lot.

Also, it takes about 30 seconds and if you 30 seconds to read my blog you totally have 30 seconds to vote for it. (You have to create an account on the voting site in order to vote; that is the takes-30-seconds part.)

Here's the link .

Also I realise that there will be certain people (sleep500, I'm looking at you) who will say "well, I like your blog, but it is not the single best humour blog out there."

DO IT FOR THE HAIKU.

...and you shall receive*

*disclaimer: what you receive may not necessarily be related to what you asked for.

News of the day: Holly gave me an award! It is called the Honest Scrap award - I am not sure why - and as part of it you display a snazzy icon, which is below. You'll notice that this time I've posted the actual icon, not a picture of a stranger's tattooed buttocks.


The other part of it, snazzy icons aside, is that you post 10 true things about yourself. It goes without saying that I was pretty highly tempted to make some or all of them up. You can decide which ones to believe.

1. I used to share a room (in a backpackers) with a transsexual hooker. It took me a month to realise that a) she didn't really work nights in a call center and b) she was actually a man. We used to go & sing drunken karaoke with her transsexual hooker friends. She rocked.

2. I once spent three and a half hours sitting outside in a garden bar in the middle of winter with my then flatmate, smoking and drinking and playing Connect Four. It was a great night. The bar staff gave us hot water bottles and blankets, and random strangers kept rocking up & offering strategy tips & playing 'guest games.'

3. I have a minor obsession with Blue Lagoon flavoured slushies. I would love a slushie machine.

4. I have a polar fleece blankie that my cousins & aunt & uncle - what's the word for that? A branch of my family tree? A knothole of cousins? Anyway, they gave me this fleecy, baby blue blanket with teddy bears on it for Christmas, and I adore it! I wear it constantly after about 6pm, sometimes use it as a superhero cape and sulk when my mummy makes me put it in the wash because it is grubby. I realise this is slightly at odds with my badass image, but blankie love conquers all. I'm afraid of washing it too much because it will lose its fluff :(

5. I would love to have a motorbike. I'm not just saying that to restore my badass reputation, I really would like one. Mainly because at the moment I'm riding a full-grown grizzly bear, and there's just nowhere to put my Uzi. Every time I think about this (motorbike, not blatant bear/Uzi lie) I get a song called Gonna Get Me A Motorbike stuck in my head. The only lyrics I know go "Gonna get me a motorbike, get me a motorbike, everything'll be all right if I get me a motorbike...all I want in life is a motorbike." Is not true - I also want a million dollars and wouldn't mind a cigarette - but the motorbike would be a good start.

6. Sometimes I really enjoy doing hideously tedious jobs, like painting or agricultural-type stuff, because I can either focus my mind completely on the tiny details of the task at hand, or let it wander merrily off into bleak wastelands of boredom, only to find completely bizarre and/or ridiculous scenarios arising there! I find mundanity relaxing sometimes.

7. Fuck you, spellcheck, mundanity is a word. Just like this is a fact. It is a fact that this fact that mundanity is a fact is a fact.

8. When I'm tired I have a tendency to talk constantly about nothing and go off on huge tangents, regardless of whose company I'm in. I also apologise for this all the time. I get told that I apologise too much fairly often. I'm sorry about all the apologising! Wow, that was like 3 facts in 1, what a bargain you're getting. Or, alternatively; sorry for putting too many facts in & fucking up the numbering.

9. I always think that lists like this (and those questionnaires that go around every so often) would be a fun thing to do, then run out of things to add halfway through and become hugely resentful about the whole thing. Worst one of these by about 500 million percent was '50 Things I Like About Myself,' which someone tagged me in. 50 is a lot of things. I was scraping the bottom of the barrel by No. 26. ('I can make an origami dog.')

10. I can make an origami dog.

Answers to questions tomorrow! Also possibly a grapg, or even a grapg. Damn. Graph.

Oh yes I was meant to give other people that award! Zach and the lovely Baglady, I choose YOU.

Award!

Andrea gave me a blog award! It is called the Luv Ya award (getting the little image on my blog proved more complicated than expected) and here is the qualifier...

"These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."

Please ignore that part about delivering the award to 8 bloggers etc etc, because a) I don't know that many bloggers and b) even if I did I'd be far too lazy I mean shy to link all their blogs on here. Instead, in celebration, I have decided to post a picture of someone who has had Hello Kitty tattooed on their arse! Image from kittyhell.com.

"Fuck yeah."

Perhaps I should launch my own blog award - the Hello Kitty ArseTat Award. For any blogs out there which are bizarre and slightly offensive, and yet somehow strangely awesome.

On reflection, I'm pretty sure this doesn't need to be limited to the internet; the term "HK Arsetat" could become this year's 'chillax.' (Only better.)

Possible Real-Life Applications of 'HKArsetat'

Me: "I read on the Internet about this guy who could lift 20 kilos with his penis."
You: "Wow...wow. I don't know if that's impressive or retarded."
Me: "I know...HKArsetat, right?"

You: "Oh my God! Look at that guy, he is so cute!"
Me: "I wouldn't say...cute, exactly. He's kind of..."
You: "Gorgeous?"
Me: "...HKArsetat."

On second thoughts, it may not catch on as well as I'd hoped. But, you know, next time you see something impressive yet retarded, consider using HKArsetat. It's...well, you know.

Anyway, now for some actual news: I quit my horrid job! Yesterday! Was sitting at my desk all morning, thinking about how much I hated it ("Mrs Button, please?"), and fantasising about quitting at morning tea time, when suddenly I realised that there was actually nothing stopping me from doing just that. So I hopped onto Google chat and said to Andrea, "I hate my job and want to quit!" Andrea, who is always a good influence, said, "Yes, do! Will be Awesome." And so I did, and it was! For anyone who's never walked out of a job they really hate partway through the day and completely without regret, I totally recommend it. Especially if your last act within the walls of your building is to wave cheerily at your now-ex-workmates and bum a cigarette off your (obnoxious) now-ex-boss.

CC came over all shy and said that if I stayed he'd stop throwing paper planes at me - amazingly, I left despite this. I have escaped! I mean resigned. So yes! Am now cheerfully unemployed once more. Looking for a job, of course, but this time I'm going to get one which doesn't make me hate myself and everyone around me. Mind you, I did learn some interesting things about a) being unprofessional and b) last names you wouldn't wish on anyone (Death, Goldsack, Wiggle, Balls, Lepper).

In honour of my now-ex-job, here are (in no particular order (don't know why I still say that, my lists are never in any particular order)) my Five Favourite Telemarketing Moments.

1. Best Brush-off Ever
Me: "Good morning, this is Ally calling from Telemarketing Company. How're you?"
Man: "Fine, but also not interested! Bye!" *click*
Close second: the Asian woman who asked, very hesitantly, "...can I leave?"

2. Best Case of Mistaken Identity Ever
CC, on phone: "I'm Chris, what's your first name? Dickie? *pause* Oh...oh...Vicky."
Close second to the woman who, obviously expecting a call, answered the phone with, "Hi, David! How are you?" (My response: "Good! But not David.")

3. Best Insult (to Customer) Ever
There's a tie here, between Chris's "What do you mean you can't speak English? You were speaking it before!" and my conversation, below:
Me: "Mr Wallis, please."
Mr Wallis: "Some people call me that."
Me, cheerily and without any thought: "I don't even want to know what the rest call you!"

Best Cheesy Telemarketer Phrase Ever
Me: "Hi, it's Ally calling from a Telemarketing Company. We're currently looking for lovely people who'd like to go on a fantastic holiday beyond your wildest dreams, at prices lower than you've ever dreamed of, and we were wondering if perhaps you might be one of those people!"
Close second: Chris, with "Get away on a truly fantastic resort holiday at an absolutely ridiculously low price!"
Honorable mentions:
"Come on, Mr Cooper, I know you want to do this!" - Gabrielle, three times during one call
"You sound like a lovely lady..." - Chris, to every female customer

5. Best Phrase Ever
"It'll only take a minute. Just hang up if you get bored."

Four Exciting Things and Three Grumbles

Four Exciting Things

1. My impossibly coloured friend Andrea – wow. I’ve used that phrase several times before and never realised quite how racist it sounds until right now. I’m sorry! It’s based on her blog title, put your pitchfork away. Anyway, that’s not the exciting thing (although I suppose accidental racism is mildly exciting on a slow news day) – the exciting thing is that my impossibly (flesh)coloured friend Andrea has given me a blog award! (Which she will probably now take back.)
Still, I’m excited as have never been given a blog award before! Am going to put it up on my blog as soon as I figure out how to. Thank you, Andrelles! I am finally famous on the Internet.

2. I am visiting Christchurch this weekend – this means I get to see my family, and Andrea, and many other people beside. My plan for the weekend goes like this (I don’t care if you’re not excited, I am). Friday night – arrive at Chch airport, slightly giddy with excitement and pre-boarding call wine. Taxi home and bypass embrace of mother and sister for embrace of fridge (family always have goodies that I never buy for myself). Run around being excited. Go to bed. Saturday morning – Go Christmas shopping with my sister and a couple of my cousins. Begin in very high spirits, and then gradually become annoyed with mall, sister and cousins. Quite possibly end up going home on the bus by myself, laden with bags full of presents, most of which will be for myself. Saturday afternoon – go to Andrea’s for clothes swap party! Feel inadequate at lack of beautiful things to swap, but make up for this by claiming as many nice things as possible. Hang out with Andrea, drink coffee. Saturday night – not sure yet, but it will probably involve drinking and being merry. But not too merry, because on Sunday morning I am going to have brunch with my mother and grandmother. My grandmother will ask a) what I am doing with my life, b) why I am not a published writer yet, c) how band is going and d) what I am doing for Christmas. Then she will be very disappointed in me (because answers are as follows – a) exactly the same as the last time we spoke; b) because I am too lazy, c) I quit band and d) I am not coming home for Christmas) and go on at length about my wasted potential. I will become annoyed, and quite possibly end up going home on the bus by myself. Sunday afternoon – hopefully hang out with Andrea again, complain about grandmother and unfairness of not being able to shout at old people. (I do love my grandmother very much, but she is such a shameless guilt tripper.) Sunday night – go camping with my sister! I’m ridiculously excited about this, despite the fact that I hate nature and can’t work a BBQ. Monday – arse about enjoying day off not working when everyone else is. Go to pub quiz in the evening and do my pub quiz trick (convincing everyone else in my team that their unanimously-agreed-on answer of 'saxophone' is wrong and that actually everyone knows it was the trombone that Adolph Sax invented, then being proven incorrect and ostracised). Tuesday morning – fly home. Go to work. Sulk.

3. Am getting haircut on Thursday! Hair is currently shoulder length and about three shades off black, but come Thursday night it will be in a blonde pixie cut, quite possibly spiked into a little fauxhawk, and various shades of blonde. I used to have a pixie cut about a year ago, and I miss it. This Exciting Thing has a bonus layer of excitement as hair appointment is at 4.30, so I get to skive off work early. (Will say it is a doctor’s appointment.) Told my (younger, Christchurch) sister Kate about this, and she said, “No, you can’t! Long hair is sexy and vibrant! Short hair isn’t. Short hair says, ‘I am trying to be edgy.’” I said, “I do not want to be sexy and vibrant, I want a hairstyle that actually suits me.” Kate: “But men don’t like short hair on women.” …wait, what? Kate used to be an irritatingly devoted feminist (“I’ll never change myself for a man!” “I don’t understand women who sit around at home waiting for their men!” etc.). Then she turned 16, met Horrid Boyfriend, and turned into exactly the sort of little women she used to hate. Huh. Love is weird. (Also irrelevant to haircut.)

4. My job is sales-based, and on top of our salary we get a commission bonus every six months. Mine gets paid tomorrow and it is pretty freakin’ hefty. (Hence impromptu trip to Chch and visit to stupidly expensive hair salon.) I am going to party like a rock star. And then wonder three months later, when all the money is gone, why on earth I didn’t do something sensible with it.


and now, in the interests of symmetry -

Four Grumbles

1. I’m sickish at the moment and have a cough, and from time to time people say things like “Can you stop coughing? It’s really annoying.” “Yeah, I know – painful, too! Oh. Oh, you mean for you. Yeah, that must suck.” I do appreciate that it’s irritating but there’s really nothing I can do about it. (“Can you get some cough medicine or something?” “Sure, but cough medicine makes me vomit. Is that going to be more or less annoying for you, bearing in mind that I will be vomiting in your direction?”)

2. In my ‘pod’ at work (I am still deciding if I am a whale or a pea – given the amount of bagels I have consumed recently I’m leaning towards whale) we have a system where everyone puts in money for coffee, and we buy a thing of coffee, and then every morning a plunger is made, and we all drink the coffee. Doesn’t sound grumble-worthy, does it? Well, the guy who makes the coffee makes it far too strong. I like strong coffee, but we’re talking unbearably bitter here – he just keeps pouring coffee into the plunger. Not only does it render it far less enjoyable, it means we go through coffee about twice as fast as we should, which I resent because I put in money for coffee. Have tried mentioning it and occasionally making the coffee myself, but he just bitches and adds more coffee to the plunger after my initial efforts. Humph.

3. The fax room smells like something has died in it.

4. I am concerned that impending short haircut will highlight chubby face. This is not a new worry, but I did need a fourth grumble and couldn’t think of anything else. Perhaps this is why men don’t like short hair? Haha.