Turning Lamebos Into Rainbows

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


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Questions to Life

Hey there life, you’re pretty random. Got a few questions for you though, because either people are sick of me asking questions or they’re uninterested in the answer, even if they know it.

 1. How hard is it to evolve the giraffes neck just that little bit longer so it can actually touch the ground (and not have to awkwardly stretch its legs out to drink)? Or just make the legs shorter? Seems you got this far and didn’t finish the job. 

2. How is it that a pot of honey lasted intact in an Egyptian tomb for 3300 yrs, but mine always seems to get ants all over it? Does this mean there’s no ants in the desert??

3. Why does everyone keep going on about boomerangs returning to the thrower? I once did tried it at a school camp and it flew straight into the ground. Am I not really Australian?!

4. Why do we say ‘as quiet as a mouse’ when I’ve heard actual mice in my walls and they’re so loud they wake me up?? 

5. I already know the meaning of life (to do whatever the hell you want from birth till death) so riddle me this; why do chicken flavoured 2 minute noodles have no actual chicken in them?! I’m not complaining, I don’t really eat much meat anyway, but it seems to be a complete falsified description of the flavour. And the only reason I even thought to find this out was from spotting a vego eating honey soy chicken flavoured chips and accusing him of ‘cheating’ haha he opened my eyes to clever marketing the fact that I don’t even know what I’m eating half the time.

 

Rambling Goat


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Shit As.

You know you’re a piece of shit when the only job suggestion written in the email from an employment website is for a sewerage officer. Don’t get me wrong, i’m really glad we have good people out there doing these jobs (although this suggests we need more), but I haven’t done years and years of study on plants to end up working at a poop factory. I don’t even want to try and make some sort of segway to join the 2 occupations as a joke, mainly because ironically I just had a bad experience in the toilet. And I feel sorry for the sewerage officer who is currently witnessing that. 

Meanwhile back at the ranch, our primary school sent us to a sewerage plant as an excursion. And I once worked 3 days at the tip spraying weeds around a black sess pool pit of bin juice. And actually almost fell in cos I got tangled in a hose ANYWAY the point is, I’ve paid my dues. Albeit, the absolute minimum dues, but let’s just say my respect for workers in these jobs are high, and my interest in joining them is low.

Here’s hoping the next email brings better suggestions. Like astronaut. Or cheesecake quality control officer. 

Rambling Goat


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Dick Photos

Ok folks, the inevitable has happened. I’ve had dick photos sent to me. Yeah, more than one, like it was a modeling photoshoot or something. Guys get squirmish if we mention tampons or pap smears, yet we have to deal with far more from them.

The cocky (haha) ones are sending photos or flopping them out at parties while drunk, the self conscious ones right before sex mention that ‘its not big but it does the job’ (this has happened to me several times!! I don’t care, just hurry up and make it do its job or get out!) and the immature ones doodle (haha) pics of dicks everywhere like they have some sort of dick obsession. Shouldn’t they be doodling boobs? Or vaginas? You’re focusing on the wrong bit! 

I think honestly the worst thing to say is ‘just touch him’ because I, like many women, already consider dicks some sort of alien creature with its own brain. I’m not dickphobic, but personifying it to be like some sort of second person is strange. However, I’m totally hypocritical on this one. 

I’m not interested in dating, so this guy I sometimes see doesn’t interest me in the dating sense, but I do travel god knows how far and take photos even while muddy and injured (see my valentines day post if you don’t know what I’m talking about) for him. And that’s totally not me. I’m no weakling who fawns over men, and I certainly don’t *normally* flit around like some magical sex fairy. So all I can put it down to is that my vagina is obsessed with him, and I’m just along for the ride. So yeah its strange and hypocritical but I can safely say that any guy that has personified their dick to me, hasn’t been interested in me OR had their dick obsessed with me. 

Point of the story is, guys, when you’re reeling back in horror about our tampon convo, we’re reeling back, laughing and then sending those glorious dick photos to our bestie. Some girls might love a good dick photo sent to them, but I find it extremely awkward. What do you respond to that?! ‘Uhh thanksss that was greeeat!’ I never asked for it, I kinda wasn’t attracted to you in the first place, and now I’ve seen your junk I really don’t want to sleep with you at all. Send me a photo of you vacuuming or doing the washing up (we all know thats the holy grail!) or maybe even just a happy smiling shot and I might change my tune. Well he didn’t, he sent a photo of his teddy. Held up next to his face. And told me it slept in his bed. Not kidding in the slightest.

Fml.

Rambling Goat


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Fake Job Suggestions

That crazy Nonsense Unicorn put me in Tinder. Being addicted to amusement, I’ve found a nice way to make this seemingly simple activity into a hilarious adventure. Each day I have a new fake occupation to tell my soon to be uninterested matches about (in lengthy detail), the more obscure the better.

The idea started with Nonsense Unicorn telling someone at speed dating a few years ago that she was a Llama Farmer, without any preparation for possible questions. There were questions. But hilarity and imagination is way more fun than talking about your job to someone.

So here goes, a list of already used or potential fake job occupations for Tinder, speed dating and life in general;

1. Taxidermist (i’m actually a trainee, so any kind of road kill donations would be appreciated to help me practice)
2. Philosopher (I get paid to ponder things in life)
3. Tennis ball quality control officer (I throw tennis balls at a concrete wall, then measure how far they bounce back, put the results in a spreadsheet and then give powerpoint displays to fellow staff)
4. Unicorn vet (unicorns need medical attention too)
5. Chook whisperer (if your chook stops laying eggs, it could be feeling sad, I can get to the bottom of these issues)
6. Play doh maker (you’d be shocked if you knew the secret ingredient!)
7. Worm farmer (we actually use sensual music like Barry White because the vibration from the slow beat encourages mating)
8. Tissue box designer (we try to think outside the box haha!)
9. Button designer (we try to think of new innovative designs)
10. Fulltime chess player (I’ve got sponsorship deals)

More suggestions welcomed!

Rambling Goat


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School reunion can suck my balls

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It’s been 10 years since we exited the wretched institution of school. So, the next natural stage is for the (dun dun DUNNNNN) school reunion.

School reunion? I have to return some video tapes that day…

I’ve found myself questioning why I would even want to attend this superficial convention to display out successes over the last decade.

Why?

To see who got fat?
Who’s married?
Who’s made some demon spawn?
Oh, look at that nerd who’s all rich an successful now?
To punch your nemesis in the face?

Really, I couldn’t give a rats ass what 99% of those people are doin with their lives, and sure they wouldn’t care about mine.

The minuscule amount of people I actually like from school I already talk to, so I really don’t feel the need to “reunite” with losers who I was never united with to begin with.

Nonsense Unicorn


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The Caffeine Devil

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I realised today that I have a mini panic attack every time I get a coffee from a shop.

All these worries flood through my mind:

– is this gonna burn my tongue off?
– did they put sugar in?
– is it strong enough?!
– did they just call my name? I wasn’t paying attention!
– do I really need that friand?

First world problems, right? Whatever, it stresses me out like a limp lemur leaning on a loose leafed tree.

Nonsense Unicorn


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My Fridge is Alive

So I bought a second hand fridge from a bunch of stoners up the road. Turns out that in the middle of the night it no joke, makes laughing and sex noises. No, I’m not getting confused between a fridge and actual people, its the fridge. AND THEN I walk right up to it when its making the noises and it stops. Wtf.

Here’s a list of possibilities I’ve deduced could be the reason:
1. Its an actual living robot that’s having sex with the toaster. Loudly.
2. The stoners have attached a walkie talkie behind the fridge (and if they’re smart enough, a spy camera to record my reaction).
3. For some reason the fridge is making ME stoned.
4. I’m in a coma and this is my strange dream life. I guess my brain got bored with the norm so has added a ‘craaaaazy fridge’ into the mix.
5. There’s some sort of parallel universe that’s using the fridge as a portal. I’m pretty sure some chocolates got eaten, so I guess ‘aliens’ like chocolate (ok I’m starting to think number 3 may be helping with this idea).
6. I’ve actually finally gone insane. Or was I insane all along? Dang.
7. Its some sort of lame recurring dream. Which I sometimes have before I even go to bed.

I’m starting to think maybe this is the reason WHY those boys were stoners. The fridge drove them to drugs to escape the reality of their sad life living in close proximity to a sex addicted (but jolly) fridge. And now they’re all clean shaven, suit-wearing, pillars of society, while I’m slowly driven to insanity.

In other news, does anyone want to buy a fridge?

Rambling Goat