Sunday, September 30, 2007

It's a strange condition...

Another list of things that strike me as strange...

The A Team was disadvantaged by a smear campaign. My mistake, I didn't know 16 year olds went to Victoria University, did you?

People are taking Banks seriously. Auckland chucked him out, now they want him back in. Has he cured world hunger? Has he had a facelift? Oh no, the only thing that's changed is the amount of grey hairs on his head.

Out in Auckland's west suburbs another failed politician is trying to climb the local body ranks. Word on the street says that's not the only thing he likes to climb...

A guy in Scotland was reported to have a four month hangover. Haha, only in Edinburgh...

Despite spouting Labour policy like it's been their's all along, the National Party has finally opened their trap. Inadvertently. Asset sales and increases in doctor's caps; big bloody surprise.

Keeping Auckland Fryer Free. No, it's not an anti P campaign, it's an anti City Vision campaign. They're cool people. Seriously. The only reason rates have risen in Auckland is because a reluctant right wing council kept them down for so long. Those buses need warrants of fitness, you know...

Daylight saving has begun. But where I am, all that's being saved is more friggin rain time.

Over and out.

Friday, September 28, 2007

Mile High Club

When I'm on a long haul flight I always wondered how easy it could be to become part of the exclusive Mile High Club. Does it start with a subtle brush on the cute 19 year old guy leg who is about to spread his seed around in every club in Europe or pulling the necktie of the 25 year old recent graduated businessman from New York.

On my recent visit to Montreal the following happened on the plane:

Words were exchanged.

Things gots bumpy.

Hands slipped in unknown territories.

A few oohs and aahs were muttered between two people.

New members to the Mile High Club.

Simple as that.

Character Flaws

The problem with dating someone for the first time is that you can never really know them, until you get to know them. In this process character flaws become very apparent, regardless of how normal people appear to be.

Now, everyone has character flaws. But I want to talk about the freaky ones, inspired by people I have met and stories I've been told. Feel (very) free to add your own.

So you've been dating someone for a couple of weeks only to discover... (to your horror)

Their penis is miniscule.

They are completely, and utterly obsessed with playing the didgeridoo. At first you think it is just a quirky hobby, until they start bringing it over to your flat. To the delight of your flatmates, who find it hugely entertaining. They have a special bag for it, special polish, and even a special stand in their house for it. They also make a habit of bringing the phallic instrument to small social gatherings. Entirely lacking in social skills, they aren't quite able to distinguish between people laughing at them, or with them.

They confess that they only get turned on by redheads. A quick search on their computer reveals an impressive collection of ginger porn.

(You are a brunette.)

They are only able to come when you call them 'mother.'

They have an obsession with Ireland, despite being a 5th generation New Zealander. They change their name by deed poll to something Irish, or O'Malley-ish. they grow their hair so it is loooong, curly and greasy, and have an impressive selection of celtic jewellery. And swords.

They have an obsession with anal sex.

They wear 'Rio' underwear. (available exclusively from Foodtown)

They are chronic pot smokers. (not actually a huge problem)

They are obsessed with a political party.

They have a girlfriend on the other side of the world ("what, you didn't know?")

That's all I can think of.

Have a great weekend!

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Boy Meets Girl Part III

The good thing about introspection is that it tends to suss a lot of crap out for me, through seeing this story written down. Typed down, whatever. But I'll finish what I started...

I was pretty much over the whole SS thing. No wasting time on players, thanks. I mean, they tend to be in the slightly more seductive range of men, but I really don't have the energy to tolerate that kind of bloke. Imagine the stress! Worrying where they are all the time, worrying who those girls are on his phone, wondering if you should get their gonads fixed so that their seed isn't spread to the whole of Hamilton...

As a word of advice, guys who are players should only ever be used as "Milky way" men. That's right, used. If you can handle that type of thing. Easily consumed, easily finished.

The problem occurs when you don't finish - as the novelty, and amount of chocolate in a Milky way, only lasts so long.

I ran into SS again, several months later. And I ran into him again, several months after that. And again, and again. What happened, you ask. More fuzziness.

But I can give you a list of um, places which shed light on the situation.

Lounge (couch wedging door shut)

I'm sorry to say that I didn't do it in any local churches; I'm just not that kind of girl.

In fact, I ran into SS every couple of months for the next four years. That's right, FOUR YEARS.

Coincidence (and drunken texts) factors into this. I have discovered that SS is family friends with several of my friends, and anyone that you know from up north probably knows SS too. And all the girls in Hamilton. I'm just picking Hamilton because they have that kind of reputation. You will probably even run into SS when you go to a funeral, as I did. Strange. Very strange.

Fact: SS is so much of a player that three of my friends have slept with him. Of course, none of this went on once they knew that I knew him. But I don't doubt that the day will come when another one of my friends goes:

"Like, oh my God I've just met the coolest guy!!"

"Oh really? How big was it?" (Haha, just joking, this is not the first question that girls ask - it's the second)

"Oh really? What's his name?"


"Gurl, that man is bad news. Been there, done that."

Once when SS came over to my flat I told him I had the house allll to myself. But when SS exited my room, several girls were there getting ready for the evening's shenanigans, including one who he had hooked up with. Poor SS, he didn't like that. But it was so much fun to make him suffer the consequences of his promiscuous actions. There's also the time when SS was caught by one of my flatmates in my house, a friend from up north. Probably family. But that was an accident.

Anyway, before I go off track, let's keep a few things in mind:

1. SS and I have been "friends" for four years now. In any relationship, that is a long time.
2. It works two ways - I am not the only one who sends drunken texts.
3. SS has cheated on his girlfriend with me.
Note: This girlfriend was one of the girls from Miss Popularity. No kidding. This is the kind of competition I am up against. This puts me off. As the less erudite person would say, fuck that shit!!
4. I have cheated on boyfriends with SS. (Note plural is actually indicative of only two)
5. When SS and I get talking, we actually get along pretty well. Considering I try to keep the chit chat to the minimum.
6. SS makes me laugh.
7. SS votes Labour, but not in the sense that he is a political geek and wants to talk politics. (Although he told me once that it turns him on when I do)
8. SS is gorgeous.
9. SS was my first, and he knows this.
Note: On Nip Tuck the other night, Christian seduced Kimber with all sorts of lies. When questioned he said, "I say what I always say to get women into bed with me." Kimber asked, "Why me?" He replied: "Because you're the only woman who makes me feel like the most important man in the world."

That is just creepy.

10. Sexytime with SS is EPIC.

I won't delve into the obvious facts, and reasons against: SS could be using me and doesn't actually give a shite at all. But my instinct says he does. My instinct also tells me he is using me. My instinct is also wrong sometimes. Fatally wrong. There are signals that tell me SS is into me, such as wanting to set his friends up with mine so we can spend more time together. And complaining that he only sees me every few months. And wanting to come to my 21st. And being the one to remind me that it's been four years...

Although, this could mean nothing at all, and is merely my take on seeing something that I want to be true.

Sidetracking again, doesn't it suck being a girl? I would give anything to lessen my capacity to feel as much, wouldn't you?!

The other day after SS had been over, I was having drinks at my flat, and got stuck outside with this guy who I hadn't met yet. We got talking, and he was raving about his new fiancè. I asked him how they met. And since I'm the kind of person who people tend to tell a lot, I was stuck outside with him for awhile. Turns out he knew his fiancè for about four years, and that they were also "friends" for this long. She had been asking him out for ages, but he could never commit.

I was pretty fine about my situation, but it got that idea in my head. Not that I want to marry him, Lord no. But it got me thinking.

I know I could probably keep doing this, (after all, sex is sex) but I have to say that after every time I see SS, I do feel like I have almost finished that Milky way, and would prefer to move on to something more substantial. Like one of those giant Toblerones. But after a couple of months I'm over it, and in the short term, am happy with milky ways.

I know that if I do bring it up, SS could run a mile. And then, after a few months I'll inadvertently grab another Milky way's ass in town, and realise to my dismay that it belongs to SS. And the same thing will happen again. Until one of us grows up.

But I am growing up. I get the feeling it is make or break time - and if it is break time, I will have to make SS promise to deflect my advances. And not make any advances himself.

The point of this drawn out story is to find out where I want to go. I have two options:

a) Invite SS over one last time and explain that it's over. (In the morning) Give SS the 'spare' flat toothbrush to use. (We use this toothbrush for cleaning - hey, that will stop me hooking up with him again)
b) Invite SS over again, kick flatmates out, and make dinner for him. Act the same as before. Invite SS over again, tell him he has to watch this horror movie with me because I can't watch it by myself. Invite SS over again and don't sleep with him. Gradually increase amount of time I spend with SS, etc, etc.

The general idea is that I will gradually, and manipulatively, get closer to SS. This is the harder option, and not generally my cup of tea.

But straight talking is not an option; it never works.

The question is, what would you do? Is this a fleeting fling, or can something be salvaged from it?

Your's in exasperation,

xx L

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Boy Meets Girl Part II

Where was I?

Seventeen years old, had just gone to my first ball and had just met that special guy who I thought could be the one. Not The One but the First One, if you get what I mean. Which I'm sure you do.

We met up again, not entirely according to plan. Said Specimen (let's make it SS) was going to pick me up and go for a drive to the beach, or so he said. As the night wore on, SS got later and later. It got far too late to be allowed out of the house, yet alone out with a boy. SS was out drinking with his mates and said he would come later. I fell asleep, and got woken up from a phone call around 2am. SS was outside.

Let me make excuses for myself here: I had been waiting for over two weeks to see SS again (those in lust will empathise with how long that is) and my judgment was somewhat clouded. No way would I put up with a guy being that late to meet me today. I also, really really liked him. And did not just want to shag him, but be with him.

And I was also, very very much, seventeen years old.

I went outside. SS and I got driven by his friend to SS's car. SS drove car somewhere romantic. (Pssh you say, how romantic can the inside of a suspected Honda Prelude be?) Make out session in car followed.

More fuzziness I'm afraid...

But I can tell you I was wearing a short denim skirt and baby blue top. Small details; bad sign I still remember. I also remember saying cheekily

"So when are you going to ask me out?"

SS replied:

"If I went out with you I'd go out with you for ages, that's how sweet you are."

Typical avoidance of the question, and I wasn't dumb enough not to know that, I just... got carried away.

And I guess it went as bad as first times go.

To this day, I don't know exactly why I did it, I suppose I just fancied him so much. Maybe, it was partly because I had already decided that I would do it with him, and once I've decided on something I don't generally wait. Which I should've. SS was surprised, but being a male, didn't complain.

Can I add that SS is drop dead gorgeous, charming as a charity salesperson and a master of pleasurrrrre? Haha.

At least he texted me the next day. But things were a bit weird. I had kind of ascertained that he was not someone I wanted to date. If I didn't want grey hair at 25, that is.

I saw him again, to 'get him out of my system.' We went out to play pool, I can't remember who won. I remember what I wore though; Levis and a mossimo singlet, go figure. It was kind of distracting watching his bum while he shot. And he looked so sexy concentrating. Anyway...

More fuzziness, it happened again, was a lot better.

I wasn't in touch with SS much after that, except (from the advice of friends) for a few particularly cutting messages. I remember one of them being something like,

"You know, you're such a committment phobe that by the time you're fifty you'll still be trying to get laid by sixteen year olds."

Funnily enough, as he told me later, SS said I made him feel really bad. In fact, as quoted in Bebo, one of his fears is "Not being able to find 'the one'..." (note: not a stalker, call it research for the story)

The way he acts (more later), you wouldn't think he was afraid at all.

I'm running out of time again, so I'll get to the point of this story later.

All I can say is at this stage, I was pretty over him. Deleted his number and all.

Why is it that you can never forget, or rid yourself of your First One?

....regardless of how bad the first time was.

More soon I promise

xx L

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

The type of questions you get asked while waiting....

to buy your drink at a bar.

"So have you ever done it using a glow in dark condom?"

"Done what?"

"Done it?"

"Done what..(puzzled look on face)....... oh you mean, "


Glow in dark condoms? is there any point to them...... and who actually uses them?......

As Jay Leno says " The best thing about this condom is, you've got to be man enough to wear it. I mean you, don;t want to walk into the bedroom and have your wife say "Honey, what is that....a penlight?"

what about those flavored condoms?....... coming in all different flavors such as kiss of mint, chocolate passion and hubba bubba grape and for the more diet conscious...sugar free. ...

Does anyone actually like the flavor of these? or does it remind you of your first scented lip balm you bought to impress that boy who threw his rubber at you in maths class.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Boy Meets Girl Part I

There is a time and place for introspection, and it shouldn't usually take place in the public sphere. However, this blog has certainly displayed a wide range of posts in the past, so I don't feel that what I am about to say will be out of place. My motive is to get some feedback on how to handle my situation. If you're not into "girl meets boy" stories, then by all means feel free to read something else.

My story starts around August 2003, set in one of my hometown's more dodgy establishments. I was 16 years old, and out clubbing for the first time with my friends. (Yes, I know, slaps on the wrist for being underage) It was a very exciting evening. I still have no idea why I got let into so many places that night without an ID. (I did eventually get my hands on a very convincing fake one) It could have been the low cut top I was wearing, courtesy of Glassons. (does anyone have taste at that age?) It could have been due to the charms of a very good looking friend of mine. We had just been kicked out of another establishment because of the antics of this friend and her aptitude for getting into fights, but there you go. So I maintain that sheer boldness got me in.

You see, it's all about the strut. You have to act like you're too good to get your ID checked. It's all about confidence, darling.

So after the strut inside I was in very high spirits. (for some reason this does not put me in high spirits anymore... In fact getting asked for ID at my age is much more preferable...) We danced, and caused a general raucous. I happened to spot a particularly fine looking specimen, and naturally, as I walked past him my hand strayed southward to Said Specimen's rear end for a squeeze.

I know, double slap on wrist for being inappropriately gregarious. You can see now why one of my favourite movies is The Sweetest Thing, though I have a feeling my life won't have the same ending. (Cameron Diaz gets married to ass grab victim)

Said Specimen tracks me down and approaches me soon after:

"I feel exploited, you brazen woman you. I'm not just a piece of meat you know."

I apologise, all of my initial brazeness melted away. I've always liked a man who believes in asserting his rights.

Said Specimen informs me that this is quite OK. We end up dancing.

Alright so we end up doing more than just dancing. In an act of disloyalty quite unlike me, I completely ditch my friends because Said Specimen happens to be very good at dancing, and even better at turning me on. If only my mind was stronger than my carnal urges, sigh. Well I suppose it was, it's not like we did anything X-rated on the dance floor.

I find out his name, (I can't honestly remember if this was before or after tongue wrestling with him) and we end up sitting outside on a bench. Ashanti, Into You is blearing from inside. He tells me he was Head Boy at his school, which totally impresses me, being the geeky Prefect. He offers me a ride home, which I gracefully accept.

I remember his car being red and sporty, which should have set off alarm bells. It was probably one of those nasty Honda Preludes, which are only driven by munters. It is about 4 in the morning. We pass Kylie and Cara on the way to the car, who are not impressed with me. Not one bit.

We arrive outside my house and he ends up kissing me goodbye. I suggest that we probably shouldn't be doing this outside my house, where strict rules about this type of behaviour are in place. We end up somewhere else, terribly enough, nextdoor to my high school. I'll have to get a bit fuzzy here, I'm afraid. Being a girl of taste and all that.

But I can say that I didn't go "all the way with him," which at this point in time I am yet to actually do.

Now, by no means am I old fashioned, but this old trick seems to work. Said Specimen texts me the next day. And the day after. This goes on for some time.

I have no idea why Said Specimen put me into such a state. Maybe it's because, to this day, he remains the only guy who knows all the right places, so to speak. (So much for being a girl of taste) But for that period I was distracted and dreamy, and my phone suddenly needed constant topping up.

It was a couple of weeks before I saw him again. In that time I had my first School Ball.

(Coincidentally my ball date's name rhymed with that of Said Specimen's, which put my friends in a right rut when we were talking about them)

Like many foolish 16 year olds, I had always thought that the Ball would be a fitting night to lose a certain thing. Given the fact that that didn't happen on the night (not for a lack of guys trying to) I was er, somewhat ready to, following the event.

But I won't tell you what happened yet. No, I'm not trying to get your attention with a "To be continued," I have other things to attend to. The point of this story will be revealed shortly.

Although, I forgot to tell you what Said Specimen looks like - tall, dark hair, brown eyes. Half Maori, but you wouldn't guess by looking at him. (I never thought I would have jungle fever) A rugby player's body, and the most devilish smile.

The kind that makes you forget your insides for a moment. The kind your mother warns you about. The kind you should sensibly walk away from.

Nevertheless, I didn't.

Talk soon.

xx L

Thursday, September 06, 2007

All Blacks play Drinking Games

The All Blacks have only been in France a few days, and are only a few days away from their first game, but have been seen playing drinking games.

No need for concern though, the boys were simply doing some team building exercises that involved carrying team mates in fireman style and running relay style races. They were divided into four pods and had a chance to play some friendly games with some friendly rivalry no doubt.

The drinking game involved was in the boat-races leg, where each player had to quaff a cup of water and upturn the empty container above his head while trying not to spill a drop.

The All Blacks face Italy in their first game of the World Cup on Saturday

Monday, September 03, 2007

The Muppet Show

With the VUWSA election dates finally being set for 21-27 August we can expect candidates to start campaigning from now if they wish, however most I presume will start next week.

This morning a leaflet drop was done at Victoria Campuses alerting students to the antics of this year's VUWSA executive, so for your reading pleasure here is:

"A Year in Your Rear"

So you thought you’d seen the last of The Muppets when you left primary school? Think again. You can see them every week on the Executive of your Student’s Association – VUWSA.

With elections coming up again, the dates tentatively set for September 13-20, it’s time to reflect on a year of antics, atrocities, and abuses from the 2007 Exec. From drinking each other’s urine, to scribbling over the Association’s investment art collection, to laying communist wreaths at ANZAC Day. If it’s dumb, they’ve done it.

Education Vice President Joel Cosgrove set the standard straight away this year, making a lone stand against Prime-minister Helen Clark and her Australian counterpart John Howard in the first week of class. After screaming angrily at the two Prime-ministers, Cosgrove had to be restrained by police. That wasn’t enough for the Education Vice-President however, who then proceeded to place the eighty-three year old University Games Shield on Trade Me with the help of former President Nick Kelly. At just one dollar it would’ve been the bargain of the year if the university management hadn’t stepped in.

By the end of O-week the Exec were already arguing about who sucked more – a tough choice too with such potent competition. The decision was clearly too much for Acting Women’s Rights Officer Clelia Opie, who had to consult $6000 of psychic hotlines to make her choice. The now famous ‘Opiegate’ Scandal even made the front page of the Wellingtonian, featured in the Sunday Star Times, and was blasted out over Radio New Zealand just in case anybody wasn’t reading about it.

If that wasn’t enough bad press, the hotline scandal coincided with Welfare Vice President Heleyni Pratley’s artistic adventure with the VUWSA $300 000 art collection, several ‘modifications’ being made with a marker pen. Pratley’s adventure came just two weeks after Pratley chose to ‘represent students’ by laying a communist wreath at the year’s ANZAC Day celebrations. This was one precedent Pratley was following from former President Nick Kelly, who laid a similar wreath the year before.

By the end of March Clubs Officer Melissa Barnard was making a name for herself as well. In an interesting interview, Barnard expressed the view that the new student hostel was preferable to ‘students paying $130 to live in an arsefuck flat in fucken arsefuckville.’ Later in the week she was again in trouble after screaming death threats at Activities Officer Bernard-Bernard Galaxy.

The fabulous adventures of Galaxy made Salient headlines again with Queer Rights Officer Rachel Wright after June’s NZUSA annual conference. Galaxy reportedly licked Wright’s urine off the street after she knelt down to share her night’s efforts in full view of the public.

The NZUSA conference was a cause of great media delight. A cricket maintenance sign was stolen from Lincoln University and signed by all members of the Exec in attendance (Treasurer Alexander Nielson, Welfare Officer Paul Brown, and Education Officer Stephanie Tyler were absent). After the Exec presented the stolen sign to a VUWSA staff member, President Geoff then excused himself by telling Salient he had confused the sign for a ‘large floor tile’. When asked why the Exec would be giving a staff member a floor tile, the President declined further comment.

But these fruitful under-takings were not enough entertainment for one week. Education Vice-President Cosgrove again made Salient headlines by stealing a ‘debt-monster’ costume from the Otago Polytechnic Student’s Association. Cosgrove took immense delight in wearing the costume, hiding in a cupboard to escape prying eyes.

However ...

… It’s not all bad. The Exec has given us plenty of hilarious news, proving to be the best media entertainment any information-hungry student could ask for. As Salient’s Laura McQuillan pointed out in an article earlier this year, young journalists from around the country have expressed great jealousy at the ‘endless abundance’ of material the Exec provide for her reporting.

Furthermore, thanks to the 20% fee hike last year’s exec successfully put through, VUWSA has even managed to stay within its budget for the year. Treasurer Alexander Nielson even boasted a small surplus after the budget for University Games proved to be out by $12 000 in the Association’s favour.

So that’s a year in your rear for 2007. Take a moment to suck it in and realise just how lucky you are to have ‘your views’ ‘represented’ by such a fine Association.

We hope you enjoyed the show.