Turning Lamebos Into Rainbows

Rambling Goat and Nonsense Unicorn present… The Awesome Person's Guide to Life


I Don’t Get It

I see things. Things, either on the Internet or the real world, I just don’t understand. And moreover don’t really want to understand, because most of the times these things are rife with stupidity.

Let me share some of the things that make me glaze over and think I don’t get it.


Eating someone else’s lunch 

This tends to appear a lot on my Facebook feed. Why would you do that? Why?! Maybe stealing a lolly, but stealing a whole sandwich from a fridge?!

Picket protests

I saw something where some anti-gay religious faction was Picketing at some gay pride parade at some place.

Do they really think it’s going to work? Like, some gay people are going to read “God hates gays” on their picket and suddenly think “holy crap! I better change my whole genetic structure stat! Thank you for enlightening me, you bigot!”


People who take Current Affair shows as real news.

Google: sensationalism.

End of story. 

Tony Abbott as Prime Minister

Just because this is probably as political as I’m gonna get!

Hipster photographers using film instead of digital

Because, like, digital is too mainstream and film is raw like my soul.


What do you just don’t get?
Nonsense unicorn 



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Rainbows for all!

Congrats USA!

For those of us interested, I thought I’d Google and see what other legendary countries have marriage equality;

[From Wikipedia]
*Netherlands (2001)
*Belgium (2003)
*Spain (2005)
*Canada (2005)
*South Africa (2006)
*Norway (2009)
*Sweden (2009)
*Portugal (2010)
*Iceland (2010)
*Argentina (2010)
*Denmark (2012)
*Brazil (2013)
*France (2013)
*Uruguay (2013)
*New Zealand (2013)
*The United Kingdom (2014)
*Luxembourg (2015)
*The United States (2015)

The laws in Slovenia and Finland are expected to take effect in 2015 and on 1 March 2017, respectively; in addition, following a constitutional referendum, Ireland is expected to introduce legislation in 2015 making same-sex marriage legal.

In the United States, same-sex marriages have been ruled legal by the Supreme Court.

In Mexico, same-sex marriages are only performed regularly in Mexico City, Quintana Roo, Coahuila and Chihuahua, but these marriages are recognized by all Mexican states and by the Mexican federal government.


Australia does not yet allow same-sex marriage. Shocked? So are we.

According to a Crosby/Textor poll, 72% of Australians support marriage equality.

Of those 72%, I’d like to give a special round of applause to the following supportive groups within our nation:


From AustralianMarriageEquality.org

So basically our Prime Minister won’t follow 18+ reputable, leading countries, listen to 72% of his population or acknowledge his sister’s 12 year lesbian relationship as worthy of marriage.

Here’s hoping this latest decision in the USA will change his mind. If not, well lets not let one idiot stop us from being ourselves and demanding equality. If he doesn’t want to be known as the guy who fought for our rights then fuck him, we’ll vote someone in who truly does care.


Rambling Goat


Questions to life #9

1. What’s the difference between a frankfurt and a sausage? I know one is red and one is brown but aren’t the ingredients the same??

2. Why do dogs like to be patted on the face? If someone did that to me all the time, I’d be pissed.

3. Why do they always give me an 0 in a Captcha? Is it a 0 or a O?! Or a little L (l) or a capital i (I)? I don’t know what font they’re using!
And if I get it wrong (which I’ll admit to doing very regularly), does it mean I’m not human?! o.O


Rambling Goat


Interviews and Spit

I’ve been a bit quiet this week because I’ve been applying for jobs.

My last interview ended up with my identity most likely being stolen (#5) so when I had another interview come up I was worried to say the least.

On top of this worry, in true RG fashion, a whole bunch of other shit went wrong right before the interview.

Based directly off my day yesterday, let’s create a list of things you don’t want to happen before an interview:

1. Horrible dreams (that you then can’t get out of your head) right before you wake up.
2. The email with details of your interview that was casually sitting in your inbox is MISSING – it somehow made it to the trash folder.
3. You get sent an email beforehand with paperwork to fill out and yet no time to do it.
4. Phone credit runs out (yes, you’re jobless and can’t commit to a phone plan).
5. Can’t find a pair of socks. You put two odd socks on but one is thick and one is thin. Tip: two thin socks equals a thick sock. For realsies.
6. Get told by a grandma to “leave the jumper on” aka she doesn’t like your blouse.
7. Can’t find your chapstick and you have super chapped lips.
8. One eye is bloodshot.
9. Get advice on your behaviour (to prepare youreself for a behavioral test) from a very blunt 20-something year old guy.
10. Remember on the way there that you’ve forgotten to put deodorant on.
11. Sit in a waiting room that has no air-con with your jumper on and no deodorant.
12. Drink heaps of water to cool down – it’ll make you need to wee right before you’re meant to go in to the interview.

Then the dreaded interview. I’m pretty happy and friendly so it usually goes well but wtf is up with asking weird questions! I got asked “can you tell us what ‘service delivery’ means?” I answered with “delivering a service a presume?” Haha logic for the win! But still, curveball questions are not cool.

After walking out of the interview room, I called DD. He half joked that I should come meet up with him for lunch. Now for a bit of background on where we’re at, I haven’t seen him in 9 months, we stopped talking when I got back with bf (bfs request), we reconnected recently when bf and I split but I have been taking things super slow because I’m currently still living with my [now] ex. I can’t play around while I’m still living here, it’s a courtesy thing.

So fuck it, I thought lunch would be nice (and platonic). We grabbed a sandwich and went and sat in a park. It was a little bit awkies because although it was nice to catch up and update eachother on our lives (he said he thought about me every day *blush*), I figured there had to be a kiss in there somewhere. It should have happened naturally but I’m going to admit it happened because all I could think about was he had given me $400 recently. I felt I owed him a kiss.

Maybe if he hadn’t given me money it would have happened anyway? At any rate, the kiss went a little left field so to speak.. He licked my lips with a pointy tongue. Everytime I tried to kiss normal, he licked. Sooooo yeah. Anyone in the park who looked over would have had to deal with that. *I* had to deal with that. Not really sure what else to say..

Maybe he has a licking fetish? I don’t have a licking fetish so from my end, I’m not sure what to do about it. I honestly don’t remember this happening last time, although I do remember him occasionally licking my skin when we played? Hmmm..


The Pokemon franchise totally gets it.

We said our goodbyes when I realised I’d taken wayyyy too long. I was now into the timezone of being picked up from the train station by my ex. And of course I hopped on the train without going to the bathroom.

So there I was, wearing 3 odd socks, smelling of B.O., desperately trying not to pee my pants (Why does this keep happening?!), my lips covered in (and smelling of) spit, on the way to a potential awkward encounter with my ex.

But of course there were rainbows! The ex was so busy talking about himself that he didn’t connect the dots about my time frame, NU had giggled with me about my ‘smelling of spit’ problem and we decided a muesli bar and wiping my mouth with a wet tissue would fix it (it did) and….

I got the job.

Except I turned it down. LOL!
Long story short, a better offer came up and I’m risking it all to try out for the better job. Stay tuned for possibly another awky interview day haha :P

Rambling Goat


Nonsense Review: Crayons

Ok so I’m embracing my ‘little’ this year. And by that I mean I’m totally cool with drawing animals as stick figures and doing colouring in.

Who says we cant do kids things because we’re now an adult? I’m not getting carried away and dressing the part with pigtails in my hair and frilly socks but I do like farm animal stickers and lego :D

I’m no less of an adult and havent gone all weak and defenseless. I am still capable of fending off dickheads (top tip: give them that look of confidence straight in the eye like you are secretly a MMA fighter) and defending myself and friends (so I punched this guy in the face once..).

Anyway I digress.. The point is: fuck yeah, crayons are the bomb! image

So I’m pretty sure crayons are going extinct because I can’t find them in many places so my first point for this review is WTF crayon companies?!?! Are you now selling tv and washing machines?? Get back to basics!

The reason they need to get back to basics is because I’ve noticed something that a kid may not: some crayons are fucking shithouse.

You know when a kid passes you a picture “it’s a drawing of you!” and you think ‘oh christ, this kid is on acid. Or blind. Or secretly has robot hands that are malfunctioning.’ Well the truth of the matter is, you gave that kid some shitty ass crayons and instead of making a masterpiece, it drew a squiggle. You are holding back a genius and this can be fixed with some good quality crayons.

Now I’m going to get slightly technical here (well as much as you can for a crayon).. I’ve found some crayons have a more stickier, less colourful and bigger clumping wax. This is bad. You want finer bits of wax that allow the colour to go right through.


This is what happens when you get good crayons. And these were extra awesome because they were lego shaped :O

My dad got sucked in to buying a big box of crayons from a good art brand for me for my bday. Just loudly, I love that he asked what I wanted, I said crayons and colouring in and he didn’t bat an eyelid.

Anyway, poor dad (or really, poor me) because they truly suck. I tried to do colouring in and they kept going out of the lines. Oh yes, they were reverting me back to the coordination of a baby against my will.

Also, they looked a certain colour, say orange, so I’d colour a carrot and lo and behold, I now have a psychopathic death carrot that is red from blood because it’s been stabbing villagers.

Do not base your child’s coordination, mental state, IQ and level of colour-blindness off a drawing with crayons. Don’t do it. It’s mostly the crayons at fault.

Rambling Goat

Ps. If there is some crayon expert out there, for the love of god please tell us the point of the white crayon. It doesn’t work on coloured paper or over another colour, did you not test this back in your lab?!


Uncomfortably Numb

Disclaimer:  There are no rainbows in this post, only dark and pendulous clouds of melancholic woe. Lamebo, right?

I have a secret to tell:  I am clinically depressed.  Not only that, but I am an inherent masochist to the slave that is depression that I have gone by untreated for so long and I have just become a festering glob of sadness and apathy, beyond the ability to cry or feel and just pitifully numb about my existence.  The emo teenager that resides within used to call this existence an “iron maiden” chained around my heart and soul.

The hows and whys of how I have become tainted with the dark slimes of woe are beyond me.  I guess sometimes it just happens.  I recall leaving my high school graduation to drive into the deep and dark bush alone to ponder the ending of my life, instead of celebrating with friends.  I got home and cried to mother that I was depressed, only met with the advice to “just be happy”.

Just be happy.

I don’t even know if I know what that means. I mean sure, I go out and do perceptually exciting things, travel, go on drunken adventures – many people would perceive me to be a happy individual.  But I fear all that is just a facade and I couldn’t really tell you the true warmth or feeling of the term.  As the great late Freddie said, I am the great pretender.


If it was socially and financially viable, I could probably remain locked up in a room alone for eternity and not really bat an eye lid or sigh.  I spend most of my evenings staring at the wall or just looking at the tv and not seeing anything but nothingness.

Comfortably numb.

And why I am writing this today, my dear rainbow chasers, is that the numbness that consumes me is oozing out of my pores and beginning to entangle those I love around me in my melancholic poopery.  And I am poisoning my relationship with boy.

But I guess the deterioration of our relationship is not all my fault – I’m not that good.  He is terribly crippled by a lovely concoction of anxiety and depression that has put it’s own strain on our relationship and turned me into more of a carer than a lover.   Which really couldn’t be helped when you are calling ambulances on numerous occasions or trying to get him out of bed after 32 hours of sleeping.  Digression.

Long story short, we have both had enough of being two blind lamebos bashing our heads against a wall with no intimacy or communication.  But, we love each other too much to walk away…..

Something’s got to give. I need to get the professional help to detach the horribly old and decrepit monkey Off of my back so I can start living with light, not in perpetual darkness. I want life to stop looking like a beat up black and white movie, waiting for it to start while the days wither away.

I have tried before. I’ve been on the meds that made my brain feel like it was suspended in deep fog. I’ve been to appointments where “psychologists” my age have smiled and nodded andreitterated how “bad that must make me feel” – yes I feel bad you dick, I need some help to stop this carousel of negativity in my mind. It’s so tiring. So I gave up for a while, just decided that perhaps if I pretend to be normal it will just go away – but all its done is make me more numb.

This Time I will try it for real – at least I will do it for the boy.

We also need to get some *shudder* couples counselling to get our communication open and functioning so we don’t lose each other.

My heart cries and says that our love is worth fighting for, that we can’t lose what we have as it is special, although it has been stained with the vice of mental illness and resentment.

But the emo within laments that it is already too late, that I was a fool to begin with to ever think I could sustain a relationship or be worthy of deep love…

And so it is. Will see how we go, and hope that hearts don’t get shredded on the way.
Nonsense unicorn


Today is a day for rants.

It’s just one of those days where I’m feeling like a sack of shit. I think letting out my annoyances will help me let go of them so here goes.

1. I’ve been helping with renovations at bf (or whatever we are)’s house for about a month. Maybe longer. I’ve been:
A) organizing tradespeople – getting quotes, communicating through various forms (ringing, messaging and emailing), organising prices, some materials and making sure everything we want done is done.
B) doing renovation work myself including altering a U shape kitchen to an L shape, installing it, making new cupboards to suit gaps etc and then painting 4 rooms.
C) putting up with a very indecisive mother and a whinging, cheapskate grandmother who both have different views. The mother has new ideas daily which involve me doing more work.

I’ve been paid $200-300. And I’m currently unemployed and can’t afford food. I know the mum is in financial strife (because she gives her daughter all her money and has none left for bills – a frustration rant worthy of its own) so I’m not exactly angry about money, but I’m pretty much volunteering my services here.


2. A few days ago I was still painting at 6:30pm. When I was done I went and helped one of the boys with dinner. He asks me why I got my own room so I tell him I like to have privacy after dinner and watch my tv shows but I can’t do that in the mancave. He says I can watch what I want in the daytime. I tell him I can’t because I’m doing reno stuff. He says “if you were doing reno stuff all day, you’d be finished by now”. I just responded with “alright, that’s it” and stormed off. Fuckhead.

I have no words. Except for maybe these:
*I’m covered in paint and some fell on my lunch.
*my back hurts (painting ceilings with no stick for the roller and no money to buy a new stick).
*you’re using the new kitchen to make dinner, the irony!
*I’m going to show you what an uppercut feels like.
*you’re a piece of shit.
*you’ve probably dropped a piece of shit into the toilet of the new bathroom that suddenly appeared.

I’m having one of those moments where I’ve been continuously under appreciated and now feeling like snapping and go postal (or running down the street naked) will help the situation somehow.. Or maybe I’ll just wipe his pillow on my butt hole. Heck, let’s just wipe everyone’s pillows on my butt hole whooooheee! If you think that’s unnecessary, read on..


3. [For the sake of making this easier to understand, let’s call him bf]. Bf’s brother just moved overseas and said I could have his bedroom. While moving my stuff into it, the mother starts pulling all his stuff out and storing it in a cupboard. I tell her I don’t mind his stuff being there, in fact I want some of it there to feel like he’s still around. He and I are good friends and I didn’t want to feel like I was completely taking over his room.

She took it all out anyway. I managed to somehow stop her on the last thing left of his in the room (an american memorial flag) by saying that not only did I want it left there, but it’s quite hard to get down anyway. Bf walks in and sees the room, sends his brother a video and the brother says “I’m glad you kept the flag”.

I feel devastated because I wanted more of his stuff in here.


4. The mother then decides she wants to empty his ‘420’ room – a small room off his bedroom that also joins the deck. The boys (bf, brother and brothers friends) like to smoke weed in there but it was the only request of the brother leaving – that it be kept there for the other boys. I stop her one time saying we should wait until bf gets home and talk to him about it.

The next morning I tell the grandma about my dislike of bf both smoking weed and ciggies. She knows everything so I’m not trying to rat him out, but just have a mini rant. She says she doesnt like them smoking in that room (and technically she owns the house so what she says goes) and that she was going to speak to the mother about it.

A couple of hours later I hear banging around in the 420 room and open the door. The mothers emptying all the things out of there. I agreed that it needed to be cleaned as there was rubbish on the floor, a homemade bong and other disgusting shit in there. I’d vacuumed it 2 weeks ago with the brother and you couldn’t even tell.

Anyway she emptied it out, I cleaned the rubbish out of it and vacuumed and she asked for help carrying the heavy stuff so I did. I’m just the daughter in law stuck between two differing opinions (story of my life) so I can’t say no to helping her when she asks. I’d stopped her once but this time I couldn’t – it was the two women wanting it cleaned.

Today I went on Facebook to show the grandmother some more of the brothers travel photos and lo and behold, two of the boys (the brother and his friend) have deleted me. The other friend told me to “go away!” last night when I happily walked into bfs room after finding a new job to apply for (only the greatest job evoorrrr). Rude little shit, he’s never been rude to me before. I was shocked.

So basically I’ve been blamed for the room being emptied and been disowned by 3 people, 2 of which I would have called best friends. I guess it was one-sided.


5. I’ve been applying for jobs and not getting anything. I have prestigious qualifications, more than enough experience and the only one I almost got, I turned down because they asked for too much personal information. Pretty sure my identity has been stolen..

They made it a requirement to know my salaries (and bonus and commission amounts) for the last 10 years, previous employers names, phone numbers, work addresses, all my previous residential addresses for the last 10 years and the dates I moved to/from each one etc etc. They got a copy of my passport, did a police check on me and I had two separate interviews with different people just to make sure I was right for the job. It was a 2 day a week gardener position, seriously WTF.

I worked for my mum for 2 years so they got her to fill in a reference form for me while took her about an hour (it was crazy long), then asked me if we were related because we had the same last name. I said yes and they said she can’t be a reference. So if she had of been divorced and went back to her maiden name I would have been fine.

I can understand if you’re going for a CEO role then the interview process might be more intense but to reiterate, this was a 2 day a week gardener position.

I told them I’d had enough and wasn’t going to go ahead with it. They didn’t seem to forward on the info within the company because I then got an email asking for my parents business number and/or solicitors details. I’d told my other referee not to worry about the review form but he proceeded to get 4-5 reminder emails (as did I) after I’d informed the company I wouldn’t be going ahead in the interview process.

I’d also emailed them asking for my personal details to be destroyed for security reasons and to confirm via email when this had been done. It’s been about 2 weeks and I still don’t have an email. So basically I’ve come to the conclusion that my identity had been stolen. Fuck.


Now if I get this amazingly awesome new job, all the angst, frustration, sadness, loneliness, insanity and rejection will be worth it. So come on universe, work your magic!!

Rambling Goat


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