Turning Lamebos Into Rainbows

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


I’m attracted to Junkies

Well people always say you have a ‘type’ that you’re attracted to. Tall man, brown hair, dark eyes. Or maybe blonde woman with cheeky blue eyes and a tiny waist.

Well, fuck. I worked mine out from the majority of guys I’ve slept with and dated and lucky I have no shame because i’m pretty sure it’s junkies.

Ok I shouldn’t be so harsh because none of them were into needles, missing teeth or covered in dirty scabs but most of them have been into more than the *occasional* drug or drink.

Oh and let it be known that girls are a different story, junkie girls aren’t my thing. But that’s another story for another day.

So now that I have worked this out, I’m not sure that its helpful to my life at all. I always knew I liked bad boys but having a few tats and a dirty-boy smirk is a bit different to getting sent a photo of a guy I fucked snorting coke off a toilet cistern. And then I go and reply with ‘I wish you were licking that off my clit’. Fuck. My bad. Encouraging drug use.

I guess it’s good that everyone’s different and we’re all attracted to different types of people but wow, the science behind it is crazy. There’s a guy I know (yep, takes lots of drugs) and whenever I stand near him I swear I can smell his pheromones. This might be exaggerated because he’s off limits (an ex’s friend) but daaaamn, I can’t breathe properly around him and if I sit next to him its like there’s some magnetic force pulling me towards him. So I just sit there all awkward and have a mild heart attack inside. Stupid pheromones.

I knew a girl in high school that only wanted to go for football players (no, not soccer). And I know a guy that loves foreign intelligent girls.

So if you haven’t already, go and work out your ‘type’, it could be an interesting revelation. Or maybe you’ve known it for a while. What’s your ‘type’?

Rambling Goat



Whyyy body, whyyy?

Using a vibrator while really needing to pee is kind of like farting whilst wearing no underwear and needing to crap. Its scary as fuck. Scary BUT I think i’ll do it anyway. I’m living on the edge this week!

And i’ve also concluded I could never be a princess. Apparently you have to be prim and proper for that. I don’t think excessive beer drinking, Xbox playing (I’m still addicted to GTA5), vibrator use, open relationships with a member of royalty, filthy talk and sending photos of my gstring-clad butt to people would be allowed. Can I even wear sneakers?! Fuuuck what a life (or lack thereof). Maybe I could infiltrate the system, pretending I’m all prim and proper, then get a tat on my butt saying ‘just kidding, lols’ and moon everyone from a balcony.

And that’s a prime example of why I’m ‘rambling’. As for the goat part, well, I have an obsession with hooves. Not even kidding. See my phobias post here, it should help explain that.

What was I even saying..? Whatevs.

Rambling Goat


The Hulk doesn’t care so neither should you

Some people just love you no matter what. Or what I should really say is, some people are blind to the reality that you’re a complete twat.

I’d met this guy at work, The Hulk. He’d just started there and caught my eye so I invited him to farewell work drinks. He came, we drank, laughed, I drunkenly kissed him on the neck at one point (?) and we were having a good time.

Then another guy turned up, older, gay, and verrry interested in my current entertainment. He started buying drinks for him. The Hulk said if he was going to continue buying drinks for him, he’d need to buy drinks for me and another new guy we were chatting with. Smooth. That man delivered. He delivered 7 rounds of shots in quick succession. I was already pretty tipsy before that, but I was trying to impress this new guy with my ‘I can keep up with the boys’ skills.

Nek minute I’m outside on all fours vomiting down the stairs to a city train station. And my boss is behind me. And asking The Hulk if I’m ok. And he’s saying no and that he has to go home now. Trains were about to stop for the night and he lived in the opposite direction.

They try to call me a taxi but no one will stop. Taxi drivers are real fuckwits. But its ok, cos now the cops have turned up. I look up from my mountain of vomit and see them pulling over a taxi. Well this is embarrassing. They think I’m not capable of getting home on my own so now the guy who was having the farewell has joined the crowd and they’re getting him to go in the taxi with me.

Well look, I got home ok. I didn’t vomit in the taxi, I slept. They got my address from my licence and it was about half an hour out of the way from where my taxi companion lived. And how do I know this? Because I knew the general area he lived so looked him up in the phone book the next day, went to his house and put $100 in an envelope in his letterbox. I might be a classified by some as a raging alcoholic but I’m a nice person (thanks Buddhism!).

Anyway who did I get a call from the next morning? The Hulk. Checking if I was feeling ok. “Not only am I ok, but I’m going out tonight, you should come!”. Ahh a romance is born.

So we were seeing each other for a month or so when I jetted off on a holiday with Nonsense Unicorn. This holiday is an annual tradition in Australia for school leavers called Schoolies, but seeing as we had left school years earlier, we were in the older crowd called Toolies. Its basically a drunken sexfest.

So sex we did. We had a bar-hopping night organised by some company which gave us free drinks at each bar and allowed us to mingle with the mostly male crowd. And I picked up the guy who ran it. He knew the exact right state of drunkenness to ask me to go back to my hotel. We got to the complex and decided to have a swim in the pool, then heard the hotel owner coming, so ran away to the room. I totes starfished. And he didn’t wear a condom. I was too drunk/bored/lazy/naive to care about much at that point.

A couple of nights later I picked up this army guy (possibly russian?) who could hardly speak English. He didn’t need to. We had some good fun. I had a bed but we played around on the couch because fuck it, why not? He used a condom and thank god, because THE FIRST GUY GAVE ME CLAMYDIA.

And how did I find out? Cos I then gave it to The Hulk. He had asked if I slept with people, I said ‘yeah of course’, so he decided he didn’t want to share me anymore and made it official. I got an std check done to be courteous and found out I had clamydia. He had done one before seeing me, was clean and hadn’t slept with anyone else. So he got another one and yep, I gave it to him.

He didn’t care. He was quietly annoyed but realised shit happens. We took the 2 tablets and problem solved.

In a the course of dating him, I wrote off his car, knee’d him in the balls in front of his friends once, ran out of money in Europe (I went away for 4 months without him) and borrowed about $2000 off him (he ended coming over and spending the last month with me), convinced him to let me have a gf on the side, and then moved 6 hours away with only a few months notice. I once got drunk and vomited in a bowl which he discovered (along with the smell) when he came to bed. Whoops. We even lived in a 27 square metre studio for 18 months basically as soon as we started dating.

And after all of that he’s still as nice as pie. I can’t remember him ever getting proper angry. I’m starting to think he’s a cyborg.

Oh and last weekend I had 3 roots lined up, but got my rags so trusty ol’ Hulk gave me the 3 roots. Another good thing about ex’s, there’s no shame! I don’t do rags sex with randoms or casual sex partners because I don’t want to be remembered for it. Ex’s and partners I figure are fine because I’m sure they can think of worse things about you than rags sex!

Anyway that’s proof that there are nice guys out there, (and probably also proof that I’m a horrible person) but through him I’ve learnt that if you’re still alive then its not worth stressing over. Nothing is *that* bad. Stay cool calm and collected kids, and if you’ve had an std, don’t worry, there’s one positive from it, now you can tick it off The Sucket List. Haha!

Rambling Goat

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Shower Thought of the Day #3

Monkeys are just dogs with hands.

Think about it.
I throw the ball for my dog, it grabs it, runs off and hides under a seat. Congrats, you suck at fetch. On purpose. Because you’re being a cheeky fuck. Now I’m imagining that if my dog had hands, not only would it grab the ball and run off, it’d probably also throw the ball at my head. And thus a monkey is born.

Don’t even get me started on if they could speak English..

Rambling Goat

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Questions to life #2

1. Why does the soap refill look exactly like the mouthwash bottle? I’ve grabbed it a few times now and I think the chances of me drunkenly squirting soap in my mouth vs just moving it somewhere else is going to end up with the bad/hilarious option.. On the plus side though, at least it will taste like flowers instead of burning. Yayyy!

2. If white bread/flour/sugar requires more processing than wholemeal to make, then why is it cheaper?!

3. Do Christians still make saints or is that just not happening anymore?

4. So if someone can squirt milk out of their tear ducts in their eyes, then I’m no doctor but I can assume that this means they’re connected with your mouth, so does this mean we can drink through our eyes?! Mind. Blown.

5. Why don’t royalty wear crowns anymore? They’re trying to be plebs dammit!

6. Why bother saying ‘oven baked’ if there’s actually no other way to bake?

I’m not sure if having these questions constantly running through my mind makes me crazy or actually sane. I think I’d get on well with philosoraptor.

Rambling Goat


It’s not him, it’s you

There seems to be a lot of bad sex going around these parts. Terrible kissing, short peenies and bad fingering. Reading all these stories, I can’t help but think that a lot of these issues can be fixed!

The Small Peeny
I guess I’m a believe in the “quality not quantity” philosophy of penis size. In my time around the block and back again, I have actually had a better time with the smaller frankfurts than some of the bigger sausages (except for one terrible sailor, but that’s another story).

It’s kinda like “glass half empty/ glass half full…

If you go in there and already get in your head that small peeny = bad sex, then it’s probably gonna manifest because, we all know as girls that if your mind ain’t in it then it’s probably not gonna happen!

Solution: think of that smaller peeny as a possible pocket rocket of awesome!

The ol’ poke poke spooge
I guess at some point we all have that experience of feeling like a human blow up doll, just a hole for the guy to poke in an do his business. Sometimes this can be good when you’re feeling too lazy to do anything an the starfish is the way to go, but I guess (especially for casual sexy times) this isn’t always the case.

Solution: don’t be a starfish an take control! If you don’t want to be poked like a puppy in a pet store window, flip that sob over and sit on his face!

The one that has no idea what they’re doing
Fingering too hard? Slobbering on your face like a camel? Spanked you so hard you wanted to cry?

Rather than bite your tongue and let them finger bang you like an empty tub of Nutella, or tell you stories of how they “wanna f@&$ you in the butt and then make you lick your own shit off their dick” (true story, my friends) – speak up!

Solution: guide that fumbly joe and tell them what you want! See, I sometimes like to see men as dogs who will slobber all over your face and hump your leg until you TRAIN them to be a good boy.

I know this can sound a bit scary to some, man I’m the first to admit that sometimes I just wanna be dominated and just take pleasure – but you’re not gonna get what you want if you don’t tell them!

It’s like going to a restaurant and asking for “food”, then getting upset at what you get. If you did that in real life, I’m sure the waiter would look at you like a dumb shit and make you pick something from the menu.

So, same principle for guys – they can’t read your mind, so they’re just on a guess what you like and do it – unless you tell them otherwise!

It can be as simple as a “harder/ faster”,  or “hows about you pretend my poonani is a notebook and your tongue is a pen – now write the alphabet!”.

Or even, “yeah, let’s try this….”



So there you have it,  some relatively simple ways of turning that lamebo your sexing into a rainbow pleasure dome!


Nonsense Unicorn



Sexing an Ex

This post was done at the request of a interesting and hilarious gal, head on over to her page for some entertaining reads; The Narcissist Writes

Here goes. I’ve had ex sex with 3 of my 4 long term relationships.  And I don’t regret it at all.



One I will call Peter Pan because he never wanted to grow up.

We caught up years after we had dated, had a few too many drinks and ended up back at his house. We both ended up laughing mid-sex, laying there staring at the ceiling then both saying ‘this isn’t working’. We were both awkward and uncoordinated. The sexual connection was gone, we were definitely only in each others friend zone now and we were drunk.

There were no hard feelings, we just gave up trying to force something that wasn’t there.



Another one I will call Mr Married as he is married now. I’ve already mentioned this event briefly in my post here. I basically just used him and left but he was the one who broke up with me so it was a little bit of semi-revenge like ‘and THAT’S what you’re missing out on!’, but mostly I was horny and too lazy to look for another taker haha!

This sexy man will be tapped again, I’m sure of it. The sexual tension is still the highest I’ve had with anyone in the past 10 years and he seems to feel the same; “I love my wife but my cock is yours”. Meow!


The latest ex I’ll name The Hulk because he has a hulk poster haha. I still sleep with him because its easy. We’re great friends, both single, both know what each other likes and I love his family and am continuously visiting them when I’m in the area. I realise it won’t carry on forever and I’m fine with that. And we both agree we wont date again anytime soon (we live 6 hours drive from each other and I only want open relationships now, he doesn’t), so its not done as an attempt to win the other back. Its just convenience. We sleep with other people too so although I’m convinced I am immune to jealousy in life, he has his moments.

The latest was when he was driving me into the city, and I mentioned that I had a few hours to kill and everyone was busy (including him) so I’d probably go hang with a sex partner. He didn’t like that he was delivering me to my next root which in hindsight sounds bad, but I’m open and honest and if the situation was reversed I wouldn’t care in the slightest. I forget that not everyone is as casual as I am.

Editors note in 2015: we’re now dating again.



The one ex I didn’t sleep with after we broke up I will name Ronald because he was a true redhead but dyed it (and his facial hair) black. I looked past the fact that he was 30, living with his parents, was jobless and slept in a single bed, but he ended up being an alchy (he drank 19 beers while watching TV one night!), a violent drunk and pissed his pants on me twice in said single bed (and then blamed me! Ha!).

I broke up with him and gave him an ultimatum “pay me the $500 you owe me or never speak to me again”. He chose the latter. This might sound like a rant but I honestly don’t have any hard feelings towards him, there was a good side to him too (the sober side). I gave him the choice because I was honestly happy with either option, but that’s the real reason I didn’t try ex sex with him – we stopped talking.

I did the next best thing though, I sent NU over to his place for some sexy times. He wasn’t good for me as a partner but he was good in bed so sharing is caring 😀

I guess I’ve learnt that:
* If you end a relationship on bad terms its probably not going to work.
* If you end on good terms but don’t have sexual attraction/tension anymore then its probably going to feel too awkward.
* If you broke up on reasonably good terms and still have a sexual attraction/tension then it will work.
Don’t hold it to me, I guess maybe others might have different experiences, feel free to share your experiences too.

I knew a girl who had ex sex with a bf from 10 years earlier, they started dating, had a baby and are blissfully happy last I heard. So that could happen on the off chance too. Hectic.

Anyway I don’t think its shameful, or that it should be hidden at all. Everyone has sexual needs and yeah they might not be right for you as a partner, but it doesn’t mean they can’t satisfy you in the bedroom.

And in fact, if you’ve taught the ex what you like while you were dating, they’re probably one of the best roots you can get! Beats meeting some random at the pub and having laughably awful sex. Although don’t get me wrong, that does make for a good story, and I do enjoy those moments but in the satisfaction stakes you need some good sex in the mix too 😉

Oh and there’s the added benefit of not having to worry as much about shaving, what underwear to wear, if your sex face looks hot or awful, how you’re going to get home in the morning from god knows where, if they can actually keep a conversation, if they are giving off the serial killer vibe etc etc.

If it starts getting weird, just cut the umbilical cord; tell them its starting to feel weird and you’d prefer not to do it anymore. Problem solved! 🙂

Rambling Goat