Tuesday 24 December 2013

Vaginas are Stupid and Confusing

Yes you read that right, I think Vaginas are Stupid and Confusing and retarded and having one has been more hindrance than help for me in my life so far. What has brought on this feeling of discontent? The other night I sat at home in a state of disbelief and near tears for no apparent reason, it was a mixture of running out of things to read, feeling lonely after spending a whole weekend with people and probably a bit of PMS mixed in their somewhere. Honestly who gets upset about these kinds of things. It can only be blamed on the vagina.... there is no other explanation for it. I vote we all become feminists and instead of the burning of the bra we have a ceremonial burning of the vagina. Here are some other bones I have to pick with my vagina 



Vagina Pain - We touched on it briefly above but really emotions are possibly born from the vagina, its why girls cry more than boys. I get upset if I have had a good weekend with friends because then I am by myself again, I get upset if the guy I like doesn't text me back, I get upset if I have to stand up on the tram when I want to sit down and read my book (or look at pictures of half naked people on Tumblr), I get upset if I think more about a situation than what possibly needs to be thought of. Just the other day I cried on the tram whilst reading a book that I have read at least 10 times before. Dear Vagina, why do you pain me so much?

Periods - I'm scared of blood, you make me see my blood every month, that hardly seems like a kind thing to do. I don't have intercourse anyway so what is really the point, I already know that I am not pregnant so you are not a surprise, a celebration or a condolence, you are just a nuisance. I saw a meme about the universe sending you a text saying, congratulations you aren't pregnant, we really should invest in that kind of technology. 



Stigmatises - Because I have vagina and like to engage in sexual acts with men I am at risk of being labelled a slut, how is that a thing? Open your vagina to the world and bad things are bound to come to you, no doubt about it (Well unless you are doing porn, then good things will come to you, all over you). I have been for years trying to change this stigma so make everyone high five me about my sexual contexts, they might be silently thinking that I am a slut but actions do speak louder than words so with each high five its sealing my immortality. 

Difficult to Reach - My vagina is not like one of those guys in the reach toothbrush ads, it is not flip top, I am not a contortionists and I still have all my ribs intact. Taking into account all of these things, it would appear that my G Spot (yes it actually exists) is out of reach to me. Why give me a fun toy to play with and then put it on the top shelf where I cant reach it? I have a friend that has a theory that this is because God is in cohorts with sex shops, he makes it unattainable and forces us all to go out to the market to get a "step ladder" to enable us to reach it. Cunning bloke that guy is. 



Maintaining the Look - I am lucky that I have an amazing waxer who i genuinely think is rad and like to spend time with (even if she is ripping off my vagina in the process) but its annoying how our vaginas are always expected to be in tip top condition. Everyone has bad hair days. Why cant my vagina wear a beanie as well. And while we are on that, having a vagina means that I feel the need to be sexy all the time when there is a chance that I could be getting up to some hanky panky. Lingerie, showering, body lotions, they lot. If I was a boy I would just be able to shower and throw on some cologne and Bingo, I am one sexy beast. Life is less simple with labias.

I guess I cant really complain though, there is really no chance of me sitting on my vagina flaps like there is of a guy sitting on his balls, you cant see when I get awkward boners (did you know that can happen when you go into cold water? well no I didn't either until recently), mostly I call the shots about things with the power of the pussy and mans want of attainment and I can give birth to human shit bags. Also while vagina's may not be attractive, they sure as hell are much better looks than some of the cocks that I have seen. So I guess I should probably hold off burning my vagina, you never know when I might need it. 



Love and Labias 

Miss K 

Tuesday 17 December 2013

Dont call your kid "Retard!!" With great power comes great responsibility

As part of my profession I have to sometimes call various retailers to ask them for appropriate information and on one such call the other day I spoke with a lady called Honey, I wasn't sure if my ears had deceived me so I asked her to repeat it again, alas I was correct. After speaking with Honey it got me thinking about people naming their children and the kind of careers that these names could lead their children into. You know where I am going with this one, parents giving their kids stripper names. Do you want your little darling to grow up and have to flash her gash for cash? If you give your kid a name like Madison, Candy, Honey etc etc you may have already signed its fate.... As a parent you have a responsibility. Here are some other things to  think about when naming your little poop bag

Coolness standing - the name you give your child will probably have a giant bearing on its social status. Give them a cool name, Sure your great great grandma was called Mavis and it may have been cool back in her day but if you were to call your kid that these days they would probably be shunned and turned into a social outcast. That's the beauty of having two names, Mavis is a perfectly good middle name, my middle name is Frances, not really cool enough for a first name but adequate for a second name. I think I was named after my uncles or my granddad or something somewhere in history. My parents always used to joke about calling my sister Wesley Winston Wasley if she was a boy, part of me is sad that they didn't because of the hours of torment that she would have had to endure but probably the main part is happy that they didn't because she would have faced a life of being the fat kid that was teased at school. With a name like Wesley Winston you would never be destined to be cool, kinda like that fat Ginger kid, no matter what you do you will not be able to elevate your social status.

This is a Wesley Winston fo sho

Generation Gaps - I understand that you may want to carry on the tradition of the family name but really having two generations of the same name living in the same house can be confusing. You have Michael Senior and Michael Junior and what happens when someone calls on the phone (well it happened back in the day of home phones) and you have to ask which Michael they would like to speak to? I used to live with a girl called Kerri and trust me that shit got confusing. One day I was napping on the back couch when the phone rang, I sleepily answered it and it was my grandma but because I was half awake I had to ask her which Kerri/y she wanted to talk to. Shit just gets confusing. Allow your child to have its own identity and give it its own unique name. And remember again, they have a middle name for a reason.

Repetition - Here is an idea, I have just had a baby, my last name is a generic first name, so why don't we just call our kid that generic name twice. It will mean that they have to do less learning and only learn how to spell one name instead of two. I know for me it was pesky to have to learn to spell Kerry and Wasley. But just think if my name was Carlo Carlo I would only need to learn to spell once and that would free me up for a world of activities, I could do some colouring or play on the monkey bars (do kids still do that these days?). Thanks Parents. Ummm, no, please, stop. Let your small human be original, give them two separate names. Just think about it, James Bond wouldn't have been as cool if his name was James James "Its James, James James" doesn't really have the same ring to it as "Bond, James Bond"



Spelling Debacles – I understand that you want your child to be an original special flower, you want them to stand out and be noticed, but really should that go to spelling their name in a retarded way to make them unique? There is giving your kid an interesting name and then there is just stupidity. I have come across people in the past who have gotten highly offended when you have misspelled their offspring’s names but if they choose to spell it in the abnormal way what can you expect? It would be like me spelling my name Kherrie, while that works, it’s not common so I would not expect anyone to be able to spell it correctly. If you try to do something with a little bit of flair your child would be in for a life of trouble, always having to spell out their names, never being able to get anything on it with their name on it and getting frustrated that everything that is written to them is incorrectly spelt. Think about it, don’t make your child's life more difficult than it has to be.

Nicknames – Do you want your child to have a terrible nickname, is your little bundle of joy a Shazza or a Dazza? When giving them a name, think about the nicknames that that name may lead to. Kids are shits, don’t give them any ammunition.  It reminds me of a Simpsons Episode where Homer and Marge were trying to think of names for Bart, they were running through all the options and thinking of possible nicknames and seemingly missed the Obvious of Fart (it would be a pretty crappy scene if they had have figured it out though so we will let this one slide) … these are things that you need to think of. When I was small my nickname was Wally Wally because my cousin was retarded and couldn’t say  Kerry and I suppose Wally sounds like Wasley… let’s just say it’s not the most ideal nickname. I also sometimes get called Kezza and I hate that, it’s so Bogan which clearly is not reflective on the personality that I have. While you can’t really account for creative kids and unfortunate surnames it is well within your control with their first name is to mitigate the risk.



This goes with that – Sometimes people have unfortunate surnames and sadly most of the time that can’t be changed so in these cases it’s probably most important to give the kid a suitable first name that can overshadow the crap that may come after it. And sometimes they may have a perfectly normal surname but when mixed with something else can spell disaster for the child for example Mike Hunt or Wayne Kerr. I know we all love Rhyming but maybe keep that out of naming as well, no one wants a Kerry Perri or a Glenda Renda (I would totally also call this person Gender Bender and I am not even a child) so maybe keep your rhyming to your mad flows and your sick beats.

It would appear that children’s names are a bit of a mine field, the name that you give them when they are born will be with them for the rest of their lives so make it something awesome. I have a friend who gave her kid the middle name Danger and that’s rad (not that anyone will probably believe that it is his real middle name) so you can be creative but just don’t be an a/hole about it and don’t give your kids another reason to hate you (because they will hate you at some point or other, guaranteed). Remember with great power comes great responsibility, so go forth and multiply but maybe stick to the classics. Remember its all fun and games for you, but they have to live with it forever.

Love and Labels

Miss K




Wednesday 11 December 2013

Passion for the Passionate?

Facebook has made me realise that I may be lacking in passion, I have no causes that I am championing and nothing that I would fight to the bitter death for and I am trying to decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I would be that girl at the feminism rally refusing to burn my bra because I personally feel that bras have served me well and should be instead celebrated. There are different types of passions and different types of Champions, here are my thoughts on just that

The Extremist – This is my cause and if you don’t choose to follow it with as much vigour as me I will curse you out and tell you how wrong you are spending your life. Don’t try to give me reasons or information as to why you think differently because I don’t want to know because I know best.
We all know people like this, they get so wrapped up in their own way of thinking that they are unwilling to look outside the square that they have created for themselves. This is a time when having a cause can actually turn you into an arsehole and make people turn away from the cause instead. I know that I will be less likely to read something that is aggressive and I would like to be remembered for the right reasons. Remember Extremist campaigners, you are the face of your “Cause” so maybe think about that next time you have a go at someone that doesn’t believe precisely what you do.



The Quiet Achievers – Here is the information on a subject that I feel passionate about. The End.
I was always told that you get more bears with honey than you do with vinegar and I think this comes into play here. They provide an intelligent argument with all sides of the story covered and they listen when you have questions or objections. People are generally nicer to these Causists because the causists are nicer to them. They are firm in their beliefs and would like people to believe along with them but are ok if they choose not to.



The Bangwagoners – What ever the latest and greatest cause is, I want to get on it to  show the World that I care about something.
Generally the Bandwagons take what ever is fed to them without actually researching it themselves. What springs to mind is Kony and his child soldiers. Every man and his dog jumped on it, posted it all over the facecracks and wanted to do their bit to help. What they didn’t realise is that it wasn’t a new issue and had in fact been going on for years and I think (but please don’t quote me) Kony had already been caught when the uproar was going on. These people want to feel a part of something because if you stand by and do nothing then there must be something wrong with you and you will be judged harshly by your peers. Its easier to be a sheep and follow the heard with the trends than to stand out on your own. I always liked the colour black though so being the black sheep in this case and not joining in wouldn’t be so bad.  



I would like to think that if I was to be a champion I would be the Quiet Achiever type, I have always had the ability to look at things from most angles (even if I don’t like what the other side looks like) so I would hope to think that I am able to present things in a positive friendly note. Now is probably the time to admit that in my past life I was a bit of an extremist when it came to religion and felt that it was my duty to inform everyone that they were going to hell because they didn’t believe in my god. It didn’t really win me any fans and instead made me come up against much opposition and hatred. I had turned into that arsehole that was blindly following my cause without a care. This isn’t a person that I would like to be and now that I am older and a bit more mature I don’t think I would be like that again.

Some causes that I may consider Championing would be the stocking of Spearmint Milk and Polony in Victoria shops, a 4 days working week and a public holiday for my birthday. These things would have a direct effect on me and would be of benefit to all those who are around me. Can you imagine all the Polony sandwiches that would be washed down with Spearmint milk if I had my way? What a glorious world we would live in then.  



Please don’t get me wrong, I don’t agree with child soldiers, of the killing of the sharks or the criminalisation of abortion but as they are not issues that directly affect me they are not at the forefront of my mind. Maybe that makes me selfish but my thinking goes as far as to if I am going to be able to pay my rent and if I am going to have an anxiety attack again when the person sits to close to me on the tram. Maybe one day I will wish that I was more active in my campaigning about what ever issue it is that is affecting me at the time but for now I guess I just don’t have the energy. It may also be the thought that it might all be stuff and nonsense, I understand that one person can make a difference but struggle to see how I could be that person.

So have your causes and champion your passions but maybe take the time to think about the bigger picture, after all you are the face of the thing you are fighting for and what makes the world great is that everyone has different thoughts.

Love and Picketing 

Miss K 

Monday 9 December 2013

Life and its many disappointments

I was on going on a trip to Japan a few years ago and to keep me out of trouble my close friend Krystal made me up an activity bag. It was full of the normal activity items like colouring books and pencils and puzzle books but what really set this activity pack apart from the rest of the activity packs was the inclusion of a YoYo. Well this YoYo served me well, it travelled Japan safely and securely and came home to entertain me only to meet its maker shortly after my return (I think it was at the hands of the Hippy House mate but I cant be 100% sure on that, lets blame him anyway). I was bitterly disappointed about the demise of my YoYo and decided that I would buy myself a shiney new one to fill the void. I made an executive decision to spend a few dollars extra to get myself one that would last, so I got myself a real flash one, flashing lights and all and on the first Yo down it exploded into a million pieces and scattered all over the floor of the shop. I was left holding the string with a broken heart while my poor YoYo rolled its way to oblivion.  It was one of those moments when you realise that life is full bitter disappointment and a few extra dollars cant save you when life wants to fuck you, here are some other ones.




Its Saturday, its sleep in day, you have nothing to do but lounge around and eat everything that is in sight, but only you cant sleep, you are awake earlier than you would be on a work day. Why have you forsaken me body clock? What did I ever do to you. I am just going to mess you up later when you force me to have an afternoon nap to get over my sleepiness. You really have no one to blame but yourself, so you take the time to think about it while I have kip.

Having a seat next to you on a crowded flight, silently celebrating your good fortune as the Trolley Dolly announces that they are going to be shutting the doors, when out of no where a wild eye passenger comes running across the tarmac and out of all the free seats, sits in that one next to you. I hate being crammed into the middle seat, I need room to breath and space to frequently toilet without having to put my bits in someones face. It is always a toss up whether you put the front or the back in, I am always a bit shy about putting my vagina in any ones face so I tend to put the back in. 

N.B this can sometimes actually work out as a positive, on one flight back from Perth recently I ended up sitting next to this super rad girl who drew me a picture and it turned out that she knew my ex and her story was similar to mine. I have the drawing pinned to my fridge and it always makes me smile when I look at it.   

Popping the plug on your favourite pair of thongs (or a blowout for WA folks). This actually happened to me yesterday, these thongs are coming into their second year and are so thin that I can feel every stone that I walk on BUT they are perfectly formed to my feet and I feel an affinity with them. Ive pushed the plug back through but I know that was the death rattle and it is time to admit to defeat and get some new ones…. But I shall stay resistant until the last….




Getting to the end of a highly anticipated book that you have read all 400 pages in 3 days only to have it not actually end and leaving you to make up your own mind about what is happening and where the characters are going to go. I am looking at you Tim Winton!!!!!! I read so I don’t have to use my brain, don’t ruin that for me or I shall throw your stupid book in disgust, curse you out to facebook and then proceed to buy your next book because this time it might be different (isn’t that the way of all doomed relationships?)

Putting an engine together only to find it wont turn, this one is really a double edged sword I have found. On one rebuild I turned it over by hand and it just wouldn’t move, it was stopped solid. I swore and I ranted and raved and started pulling everything off only to find there was a renegade bolt nicely wedged into one of the teeth on the time belt which was stopping it from moving. Days worth of work undone by one tiny screw (but thank goodness I had turned it by hand and not tried to turn it with the key otherwise all of my work would have gone up in smoke. Literally. As a side note CA timing belts have caused me nothing but trouble. THREE TIMES!!!!)

Needing to fart so badly that you have stomach pains, you aren't sure if its going to be quiet or loud so you cant risk letting it out and you are surrounded by people and then when one person goes, another one shows up. Holding farts in is bad for you, its where bad ideas come from. I always need to fart at the most terrible times, like in lifts or at the waxer or when I am using the toilet at work and there are other people using the cubicles next to me. I don't know why I am so embarrassed by farts, it might be because sometimes even they make my eyes water and I don't want to inflict that on anyone else. 




Having an overwhelming urge to do number twos, like touching cloth spec, one cough and you're done spec which sees you rushing to the toilet and your pants being undone and ready to go before you ever get there. After the subsequent evacuation and feeling of elation knowing that you made it and you didn’t shit yourself, you turn to the side and realise that you are in fact out of toilet paper. We all know this feeling, we have all been there. What happens next is an awkward waddle with your pants down and your arse cheeks as far apart as possible so you don’t spread you defecation any further than you need to, to get some toilet paper, or some tissues, or a rag.. I am thankful that I have always been able to find something and I have learnt to always scan before I destroy the pan.

Getting to the front of the line for something you really want only to have it taken by the person in front of you. This happened to me at the royal Melbourne show (which as a little side FYI, was a pretty big disappointment, it was so small compared to Perth) whilst lining up for the CWA scones, after waiting for 10 minutes we got to the front of the line only to be told they were all out and we would need to wait another 20 minutes. Oh I waited alright but it was shear depressive hell, standing and smelling something so amazing that wasn’t available to me to eat. I taught myself how to make scones after that just as a big FU to the CWA (actually I don’t really mean that CWA, I plan to join your ranks one day, I am a scone expert, I don’t really want to live in the country though, will that be a problem?)

Going to drink the final dregs of your beer only to realise that you have already used it to extinguish your cigarette. I don’t actually smoke so this was one from my peanut gallery but I can see it being an issue. You are drunk but still trying to do your bit for the environment by not dropping your butts on the floor, how convenient, there is an empty bottle in front of you, only its not empty, and without noticing you are about to be in for a world of discomfort (and at least now you know what all us non smokers go through when we kiss you, how do you like licking an ashtray?)



Going home with someone who talks their parts up to the extreme only to find out that they have pulled the proverbial wool over your eyes. I once met a guy that referred to his junk as the titanic, but let me tell you something, he was no Titanic and he surely didn't sink into a wet depth (I always wonder about guys that claim to be all that, either they have been lied to extensively or they watch a lot of Asian porn)   

No one said that life was going to be easy, all we can do is jump the hurdles and try our best to put our disappointments behind us. May your legs be strong, your farts be silent and the next seat always be empty.

Love and Leaps

Miss K

Wednesday 4 December 2013

Reasons to Reproduce

I don’t think it is any surprise to anyone that I have a bit of a thing for shoes. Well sneakers to be exact, the brighter the better really. On a recent trip to my local shoe hang out I saw some tiny little mini versions of the shoes that I had recently purchased. They may have possibly been the cutest thing that I had ever seen and these got me thinking that I might like to have a baby. Yes you read that right, I based the decision to want to procreate on a tiny little pair of Jordan 5s (AJ5 Grapes are Balla, in case you didn’t know). This isn’t in itself a solid enough reason to bring something live into the world. Babies are for life and not just for Christmas so its not a decision to be entered into lightly. Here are the other reasons that I have thought of to make it OK to reproduce.

Dress Ups – I loved playing dress ups (and I still secretly do) and everything is so much cuter in miniature, just imagine the costumes that you could get for a small human. I would for certain have the best dressed most coolest costumed child in existence. It would win all the best dressed competitions and bolster its self esteem and I would be winning parenting of the year awards left right and centre.


All the Activities – Have you ever gone to the cinemas and asked for a ticket to a children's movie and had a concern that they are judging you like a paedophile? Sometimes I feel like that and that’s not an ideal way to feel. IF you have a child in tow you can go anywhere that children are accepted without fear of retribution. Think of the possibilities. Children's movies, the Maccas play ground, the kiddy pool, Santas lap. Its not even totally selfish either because the kid gets to go as well.

Toys – When I was small all I wanted for Christmas was a Baby Born, I wanted to love it and feed it and clean up its poos but Santa let me down big time. I never got my Baby Born and I never had the latest in the coolest gadgets. If I had a child I could buy it all the cool gadgets and Baby Borns of the world and when they were sleeping I could play with them. Think of all of the things I could play with. I could build myself a Lego fort and slay all of the dragons. Granted if I had a real baby I probably would lose interest in the baby born (Or maybe if I had have had a baby born I would have more of an interest in babies. Pondering life's difficult questions one day at a time)


Kid Speak – Kids say some pretty hilarious things, their little minds wander off in directions that you and I can only dream about. I like to think that I am pretty funny and I know that my mind wanders off in strange directions all the time so think of the possibilities when these two great minds combine. It would be like the unmovable object meeting the unstoppable force. It would be the next Hamish and Andy or the Golden Girls or Tom and Jerry.
  
Pay it forward – Having a child of my own would give me a chance to damage my children like my parents did to me. Nothing serious mind you, just little things like making them wear ice cream containers on their heads so the magpies don’t get them and making them wear skivvys so everyone thinks that they don’t actually have necks.  My uncle used to torment us as children so it only went without saying that when he had children of his own we tormented them as well. In my head I can see crazy old Rafiki standing on Pride Rock holding Simba up to the sky while Elton John croons in the background because really it is all the Circle of Life. Naaa sharenya ammamibioo (or how ever that song goes)


Dimensions – Lets be honest, I am always after new and interesting things to write about in my blog and you can only imagine the things that having a kid would enable me to write about. Pooping, the things that they swallow, the interesting things that they say, the inappropriate times they take their clothes off (I am just going on things that I know I did as a child and probably still do as an adult). Also when children do these things people gush about how cute and sweet they are but I am pretty sure that if I was to lift up my dress and walk through Coles people would have some choice words to say.

Slave Labour – Its par to the course, I have expelled them from my body, fed them, clothed them, entertained them and probably slightly damaged them by making them wear ice cream containers on their heads so it is only appropriated that when they are able they start giving back to me. This might mean doing the dishes, cleaning up the dogs poop or the rotten fruit, washing me with a rag on a stick when I am too large to wash myself and finally looking after me in my old age when I am wiping faeces on the walls of their house. It might be slave labour but the conditions are better.


Cruising for Dates – This one is obviously only if I happen to be a single parent and it might not even work because I am not a dude. I know as a virile female with a ticking biological clock, when I see a guy that’s good with children my womb reacts strongly and I want to “something” (undetermined) him. People are more likely to speak to you if you have a child in tow doing cute things. All I need is for my child to do cute things and BINGO I am back in the game.

But really all of these things are fantastic and great reasons to have children but there are other things to think about. The other day I saw a lady walking down the street with a pug dog in a pram, but only it wasn't a pug dog, it was a baby. What happens if I have a baby that looks like a pug dog with its googly eyes all poking out everywhere all over the shop? no one will tell you that you have an ugly baby and you will of course think that you little baby/pug is the cutest thing that was ever put on the face of the planet. I don't know if I can agree to getting that disillusion. 


Or the fact that its all well and good getting it in there but you do realise that it has to come out again? I am rather fond of my tightly packed kebab and the idea that some parasite (my new boss used that term not me) is growing inside me is enough to send me scampering into the corner and cowering with fear. Also sometimes when you are pushing out the baby you also can push out a poop and we all know my feelings on pooping in public. 

It appears that there is just to much to think about in the quest to reproduction and world domination with my army of minions. I might need to sleep on this one for a little bit longer. 

Love and Lifetimes

Miss K