Turning Lamebos Into Rainbows

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


I got shat on by a Croc.

I went on a holiday up north a week ago. Apparently this area is not only infested by crocodiles (you cant go swimming), but also Cane Toads which have poisonous skin.


Mmmmm tasty.

So it sounded like it was going to be fun! I was going with bf and some of his family (mainly boys) so there wasn’t going to be any cocktails by the pool. We were going to get adventurous.

Lunch of the first day was interesting. Here we were with a couple of grandparents at the local RSL, eating and drinking. I was at one end of the table and the oldies were at the other. After finishing my conversation with a couple of the boys, I turned around to get back into the other conversation. It sounded like the oldies were talking about their new camping spot. They were saying they tended to the little garden they had around their caravan. I say “oh that sounds nice, how often do you go there? Like once a year?”

The gran says “no no, once a month, sometimes more”. I notice everyone’s looking at me horrified.. The subject gets changed quickly, we finish up lunch and head to the car. Bf’s dad breaks the silence “Wow, nudist colony!! Didn’t see that coming!”

So apparently I sounded overly keen to hear about a couple in their 70’s/80’s getting nude and doing gardening. Oh and it’s a colony so they hang out with other nudists.

Funny sidenote on that – I made mention of this as a funny facebook status update (“it’s only awkward if you make it awkward”) and my 83 year old nan ‘liked’ my post. Yeah, she’s on fb and is apparently loving oldies being nudists. Not going to think about that for any longer than I need to!

After lookouts and bushwalks that afternoon, we decided the next day we’d ride an amphibian. image

At this amphibian adventure park, we also found out we could meet a croc and get a photo. Yesssss!! I’m there.

Now before you go imagining this:

It’s actually more like this:


But with sticky tape on its snout..

Right before I was meant to hold my little croc, there was a wet sloppy noise and the handler got coated in shit. So much so that he noted “ugh, that’s definitely wet my phone..”. Also, as he went to hand me the thing, it was thrashing around in his hands. So I was both disgusted and freaked out.

Well the area I was told to put my left hand was absolutely, positively, the anus. I asked if I could move my hand up further but the request was denied. So there’s your old pal RG wrapping her hand over (and gripping tightly) a crocs butt. A crocs butt that had just taken a shit and not had any sort of clean up.

So yeah, handed the thing back after my photo (I’m not sure what was scarier – the croc or my jowls and hairy arms, you’re meant to make me look hot you stupid photographer!), and we know how it ends up; I had croc shit all over my hand. It wasn’t on my bucket list but I guess I’ll have to add it so I can tick it off. Uhhhh yay?

The next day we headed to the Great Barrier Reef for a day of snorkling. Bf’s dad told us it’d be flat and it’s a reef so the boat ride out would be nice. It wasn’t.

Normally I don’t get seasick but I’ve since discovered my trifecta of necessary requirements for a good ol chuck chunder;
1. Other people vomiting. Hearing a whole bunch of people vomiting, smelling the vomit and seeing someone holding a bag full of vomit is not cool.
2. Toilet water on my feet. So the waves knocked the boat around a fair bit and on one of these particular waves, the water got knocked out of the toilet, spilling on the floor and then my feet. Which also leads onto..
3. Toes. Not only were my toes covered in toilet water but I looked out of the window and someone on the second level had their feet hanging over the edge and they were wiggling their toes.

And my toe phobia really amped up that combination because before you know it, I was outside next to bf’s dad’s gf (who herself was holding backing vomit) projectile vomiting my pancake breakfast into the Great Barrier Reef.

Worst part? There was a gap in the solid railing wall where my feet were and I happened to get vomit on my toes. No kidding.

Ugh, anyway after that I was good, we got to the snorkeling area and instead of looking like this:

It looked like this:

No exaggeration. There weren’t sexy girls in bikinis and tanned men playfully splashing the water, there was a shitload of wind, 90% of people wearing wetsuits and people either using pool noodles to help them float or wearing life jackets. There was even a group of people all holding on to a life ring with a ‘guide’ pulling them.

I went out with bf and with the waves and current, he lasted like 15 mins then gave up and went back to the boat. As there were 6 of us, we’d decided to have partners but mine just left me! As I was waiting for his 2 brothers to come hang with me, I realised I was just hanging out in the deep water between the boat and the shallower reef. It took them maybe 10 mins to get to me, and in the meanwhile I was just treading water and floating around. Enter phobia #2 – sharks.

Now I dont know about you guys, but the sound of water and being shit scared are both ways to make me need to piss. I couldn’t remember if pee attracts sharks but I held that baby tight until the boys got out to me.

I sussed it out. “Does pee attract sharks?” “Dunno”. Good enough for me. Ladies and gentleman, I pissed in the Great Barrier Reef. And I heard a while ago that it warms up wetsuits – yep, confirmed.

Later on, I even did it again. No shark bites, just fish swimming in my urine (and vomit from earlier). Sorry sea life! I feel like on a mere technicality, it kind of cancels out because I too had vomit on me and swam in urine that day.

Oh yeah, another lovely holiday!

Rambling Goat



Shower thought of the day #8

1. Shower gel tastes like a donkeys nutsack. Or bicarb soda. And it hangs in the back of your throat. I feel so unco right now.

2. [Following on from the last thought] There is no feasible way to spit in a sexy fashion. And apparently I’ve seen the ‘sexy’ way thanks to a guy off fetlife with a saliva fetish who showed me a video. It wasn’t sexy. Can’t be done. Trust me, I literally just tried.

3. [Following on from last thought] Thank god this shower doesn’t have a full length mirror as one wall. I’m not sure if that even exists but if it doesn’t then I totally just invented that shit. And no, I don’t want one. I don’t need to watch myself trying to spit sexily and I don’t want to watch the shitty shower sex I had last night – it was a poke-poke-spooge incident in bf’s nan’s shower. It was as awkward, rushed and incredibly un-sexy as it sounds.

4. [Following on from last thought] I wouldn’t mind some great sex sometime soon. Really.

5. [Following on from last thought] I wonder if Glam is coming out with us tonight. God dammit I’ve been in the shower for like 15 mins already and now I have to shave just in case she somehow wants sex all of a sudden. Last night she ran in to my room, jumped on me and cuddled me but for someone who admitted “I always have to lead”, she’s doing a good job of confusing this self confessed Captain Oblivious. Or maybe I’m Captain Lazy mixed with Captain Hopeful. Meh, for the record folks, I shaved.

Wise lesson: it’s better to be looking maintained and not having sex than having sex and freaking out that you look like a wildebeest.

Ok on closer inspection with this hoof-pooping example, they’re not all that hairy.


But then again, neither am I. It’s more the unintentional exfoliation my spikes could cause that’s the issue.

6. [Following on from last thought] I think this other girl I have a sly crush on has a full bush. I’ll name her Hippy for obvious reasons and because of this hippiness, I’m scared she does it full force, so to speak. It’s a gamble. If you’re not yet aware, I’m pretty sure I’ve got a phobia of pubes.

Ahhh what a nice relaxing shower.

Rambling Goat


I wiggled my butt to a male stripper.

If you haven’t checked out Jake Butler’s blog True Confessions of a Male Stripper, then get out from under your rock and get over there!

I was lucky enough to get a ‘hi’ from Jake on Fetlife, convinced him to blog his hilarious and shocking stories and we have been in close contact ever since. A few days ago I got to meet him for the first time..

He had picked a discreet table at the back of a bar in Sydney in case our conversation turned kinky (of course it was going to!). I also didn’t (and still don’t) have his number, was going to meet him alone and had no phone battery. There was potential that I was going to be stabbed but honestly I was kind of ok with that. My life is pretty shit at the moment so being stabbed didn’t sound *that* bad. It would be an interesting day either way – I’m either going to be losing liquid or consuming liquid (blood/beer). But also, we talk everyday and my intuition said he was awesome.

My intuition was right πŸ˜€ And liquid (this time urine) actually became a major issue.. More on that later LOL.

So I was late (what’s new), hadn’t eaten and needed to charge my phone pretty bad. He just sat there calmly with the beer he’d bought for me and listened to my nonsense (which included showing him a glass jar with a felt heart in it). He grinned and said I’m exactly like he thought I would be.

Well good! I hope.. Sidenote: I don’t just carry round that heart everyday hoping I can show it to new people, it was my bday present for NU. True story. We’re big fans of the show Oddities so I did a cute version. If you have no idea what I’m talking about – it’s cool bro, I’m moving on with the story!

I got him to search around the table for a power point to charge my phone. He totally did because even though he’s super professional looking and sounding, he wanted to help this insane girl.

I’m not too sure how much to give away as he has to keep his anonymity but to the ladies who are interested, let me rave on about how lovely he is! I’m also going to rub it in that I got to meet him (ner ner!) – I’m not one of those cool bloggers that somehow manages to meet people with crazy awesome jobs. My latest claim to fame was a guy who wanted me to trample him. I never did get around to doing that (he’s got a bit of a serial killer vibe, so it’s probably best I don’t)..

I also never hang with men in suits – I have a bit of an ‘us’ vs ‘them’ mentality which needs to be remedied.. Do clean men like dirty girls? Dirty as in actual dirt – I’m a tradeswoman, not some unhygienic crazy cat lady hoarder (although this could very well be me in the future..).

Anyway, Jake was very nice on the eyes, ears (he’s got an accent tehee!) and brain. He could be nice on the nose but I didn’t exactly sniff the guy to check – act normal RG, act normal! πŸ˜›

We had a couple of drinks, I scoffed down some fries and then fetlife was mentioned. Hmmm.. We needed to choose a fake name for it in case people were listening so at the same time I said “banana”, he said “cucumber”. Wow, awkward phallus moment. It all went downhill (in a good way) from there. Apparently I swirled my chip in circles in the aioli when ‘threesomes’ came up in conversation. We possibly needed another fruit to cover that convo up but I forgot anyone was around me, I was too busy picturing threesomes πŸ˜‰

At some point I wiggled my butt to him which again was another one of those ‘not sure why I did that but I did, so deal with it’ moments. I realised my jeans actually made my butt look heaps flat (thanks you stupid wall of mirrors) so to the untrained eye it probably just looked like I was standing there. Again, Jake wasn’t phased by my insanity, he just grinned and drank his drink. In hindsight, I probably should have asked to see his version. OMG jake – can you twerk? πŸ˜€

Well our time was up and ever the gentleman, he escorted me to the train station. Enter my liquid problem.

Again, hindsight, why didn’t I pee before I left?? Now I was sitting on a rocking train with a pint and schooner worth of beer in my bladder. I’ve got a bladder of steel normally but maybe the fries were pushing on my bladder? I sent him a text laughing about my dilemma (not literally or I totally would have wet myself). I was rocking like someone with a mental disorder but thankfully only one woman (sitting next to me) could see.

Apparently at this moment, I also felt the need to msg my bf:
Going to piss myself on the train

Pretty straightforward. No need to beat around the bush. Then I got out at Central station as I had to change trains and legged it to the toilets. Don’t worry, I again updated bf:
Update toI let St central closed
Going to other ones fooouuurrrrccckkk

It sounds pretty drunk but thats ‘about to piss myself’ mixed with ‘tipsy’ and thankyou, yes, it was an achievement to also multitask into that scenario ‘msging a running commentary to bf’.

I did get a msg back in case you’re wondering. It said ‘Ok’. For the record, ‘Ok’ msgs shit me but I completely understand there’s nothing else you could possibly say in this situation. So, fair enough.

Well I didn’t end up pissing myself (Huzzah!). I was over trains by this point though and running pretty late, so I got a taxi. I made it to my next destination, caught up with friends, drank more, hung out with a family member and then of course this story is going to end strangely – I made my bf’s brother choke me (“it’s relaxing!”) while we were cuddled up and sleeping on the train trip home. He didn’t seem phased and just wrapped his arm around my neck like a tight, murderous hug. Thanks bro!

I’m just going to go ahead and say that I’ve got some caring, patient, accepting and super awesome friends and I feel pretty lucky in that respect. Friends are totally underrated πŸ™‚

Rambling Goat


The 101 on Unco People

I am incredibly uncoordinated by nature. You know, the type to trip over flat surfaces or miss my mouth when I go to take a drink (happens more times than you would think).

My life is essentially a 50/50 on either doing something really well or stuffing up like a blind panda on crack (best. Simile. Ever).

Now this is not to say that I’m ditzy or lack common sense – I am usually quite well aware of processes and rationality and blah blah – but sometimes my brain just malfunctions like a Windows Vista PC and I do something like put onions in boiling hot oil (the recipe said so dammit, how was I to know they would start spitting everywhere?!)

I totally get that as a bystander to my malfunctioning moments one would get quite frustrated and want to bang their head against the wall at the seemingly lack of intelligence that exudes during these times. I get that feeling every day on the road when some noob doesn’t know how to use their blinkers ir drive 30km below the limit (but that’s another story).

BUT, does frustration always necessarily have to equate to condescension?

You can pull me up for my mistake in a constructive way, but don’t make me feel smaller than an ant poo about it. That shit ain’t fly.

So here’s the moral of the story my friends: you either accept your fello brethren for their shortcomings or you GET THE FUCK OUT.

Nonsense Unicorn

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Poo-Brain Round 2

Read #1 first

1. Sleeping and/or being tired consumes your day. You’ve slept in till mid morning (or even lunch/after lunch), bum around doing nothing then want to hop back into bed for an early night. Who invented beds and couches?? Theyre soooo soft and comfy.

‘Beauty sleep’ is a thing right? I’m sure if I wore nice clothes and brushed my birds nest hair I’d look alright.. Funnily enough I watched Sleeping Beauty last night, more on that later..

Oh and don’t forget all the potential dangers you’ve avoided by being in bed for 20 of the past 24 hours:
*Car accidents
*Being attacked by a rabid wolf
Feel free to make up more in your mind.

2. People seemingly don’t understand. I’ve been called lazy and had people joke about what I have (or more likely – haven’t) done all day. I’ve also had people give me chores or errands to run for them like as if I can’t think of anything to occupy my time and should be thankful for their suggestions. Then there’s the ones who say “aw cheer up!” who you want to punch in the face.

People never understand us anyway. Like when I eat a piece of raw potato, or reel back in horror at seeing someone wiggle their toes. It’s just another day really where I’m apparently a weirdo and everyone else is ‘normal’. Truth is, everyone’s a weirdo if you analyse it long enough. o.O

3. The sunshine is nice and all but today I’m not leaving my room/house. There’s birds chirping and flying around all happy (you assume – your blinds are closed) and you think ‘yay good for you, I’d get up and look but meeehhhh’. If you have to go outside, everything suddenly seems more brighter.

The sun is going to be around for billions of years, I’m pretty sure skipping a few days of hanging out in the sun is fine. I mean really, office workers kind of miss out on a whole bunch of sun so just pretend your bedroom is your office and staring at a wall is your work.

Also, staring into the sun burns your retinas so you’ve lengthened the life of them by not going out there and accidently staring at bright stuff. Yay for eyes working goodly!

4. You get tunnel vision, keep your eyes down and/or don’t make eye contact with people unless you need to.

Sometimes it’s not worth your effort to look at things. Yeah looking at stuff is cool and all but sometimes people say “omg look at that!!”, you look and it’s something shit like a kid feeding a seagull. WASTE OF EYE MOVEMENT.

Now for those of you wondering what increases poo-brain to a high level, let me give you a snippet of 3-4 hours of my life.. Don’t worry I’ve somehow managed some rainbows at the end (so I feel I’m totally allowed this rant).

Yesterday after I did the first poo-brain post, I got in bed, put on Sleeping Beauty and then had 3 different occasions where people called my name and banged on my door all crazy-like. I had 10 calls in a row at one point and someone barged into my room. What did they want?

*One lot of repeated banging was to tell me there was an ambulance and 2 cop cars at the oval (there were a bunch of soccer games happening) – WTF do I look like I care? My door is locked and I’m in bed at 4:30pm. Zero. Fucks. Given.

*The 10 phone calls was one of the boys who had asked me to go buy groceries so he could make dinner – how about no. I’d already sent a msg saying I wasn’t doing it.

*More repeated banging which I stupidly fell for, I had a phone shoved in my face and again, it was about the groceries – I’m not a fucking slave, DIY dickhead, I’m in bed.

*More repeated banging which I refused to get up for. I yelled out “please leave me alone”. The groceries were done and the same inconsiderate douche was banging on my door because he wanted to store stuff in my fridge – There’s a huge fridge in the house, so I’m not stupid enough to fall for that.

*The bf came in to get ready for a shower and his nan barged in, hugged me, gave me $100 because for 3 weeks solid work (including weekends) I’ve so far been paid $30. Not sure if you count 2 pairs of shoes (one from an op shop, and one suspiciously the same size, style and brand as what one of the boys wears) and some beer as payment too.. That whole situation is probably worth another post.

Anyway, then she started talking to bf (in front of me) about how the renovation has stressed me.
WRONG. Take the people out of here and living in this house and doing the work I’m doing would be glorious. That old bag is solely responsible for about 40% of my stress. Drama is a hobby to her, in fact, it’s literally her only hobby.

I’m moving out. Fully don’t care where I go, a cardboard box would be better than this place.

Ok the douche brother apologised and is shouting me drinks tonight so I’m now on a train on the way to the city. Their mum also just told me she’s giving me $500 when it gets in to her bank. And I just got a call about a job (even though I literally just applied to be a firefighter – random huh!) so today is turning out to be a hell of a lot better than yesterday πŸ˜€

Rambling Goat


I’ve got Poo-Brain.

I’m not living in the most ideal environment for rainbows. There are a lot of stressful and frustrating situations on a daily basis that I can’t escape from. I have no moment where I can sit and chill out without being disturbed. Well, except the bathroom, but even then I get the cold water treatment if I’ve been in the shower too long (bfs nan + tank water, pretty self explanatory..).

Anyway, I’ve been getting depressive symptoms again. And this is going to sound strange but I’m actually happy I’ve had full blown depression before because now I can recognise symptoms and try to stop/minimize it’s growth. I imagine if I didn’t have experience with it, I would be pretty confused with my emotions and crazy thoughts right now. It’s a scary place.


Yes, everyone’s different, depression sufferers have different levels and variations on their disease and everyone deals with things in different ways. I’m lucky this time that my symptoms aren’t every day and it’s not too bad, I can still laugh at myself and socialise if need be. I know tomorrow will be better if today is a write off.

Today is just one of those depression poo brain days though so I’m going to look at some lamebos and try to turn them into rainbows..

1. Everything seems like such a massive effort;Β  getting out of bed, cooking toast, getting dressed, communicating with people etc.

Little things are still an achievement, so we should be proud! Moving from the bed to the armchair, woo! Making breakfast, Huzzah! Had a chat with someone about some shitty whatever that you give zero fucks about, yayyy! You might feel like you’re doing nothing but you’re totally doing stuff.

2. We wonder why the fuck people (in specific, ourselves) need to get dressed. You know you’re not going anywhere and PJ’s and day time clothes are still all ‘clothes’ so what gives? What’s the point?


In the big scheme of things, yes, getting dressed is pointless, so just get half dressed! You still feel the comfort and coziness from bed but are prepared for unexpected visitors. Plus you can count this ‘half-dressing’ as an achievement!
So eg. I change into jeans/shorts on the bottom half and keep the top half the same; No bra, comfy singlet and/or loose fitting jumper that I wore to bed (I’m an ice block through winter). I look like a grub but who cares? I could totally wear this to go to the letterbox and not get stares.

Sleep nekkid? Girls, you’ve probably got a comfy dress that can handle no underwear. Summer dress? Maxi? Make friends with it! You can add underwear or get changed later, for now you just need secret comfort.


Guys, chuck on some shorts and you’re deemed acceptable. Have a loose comfy shirt or singlet handy in case you’re ready for the next step later – dressing your second half.

3. Food. Some eat lots, some eat hardly anything and some eat strange things. I’m the hardly anything/strange combo. Some poo-brain days I don’t eat until 3pm, then a small dinner. Other days I want a 2 day old reheated cheeseburger with a glass of green cordial for breakfast.

Again, I’m thankful that not all my days are like this because jesus, I’d be a pimply rake.

Hmmm.. I mean none of those options are exactly healthy but it could be worse..? I’ve seen my dog eating a meaty bone with maggots in it.

Ok I could definitely do more but once again my dog has rolled all over a dead animal so I’m going to have to go and bath him. And yeah, I’m going to count it as an achievement. Boom.

Rambling Goat

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The Low-Down on Authority-Based Relationships

One of the many great posts on bdsm by SLAP, check out their blog for more πŸ˜€


SLAP! has had the good fortune to host a number of very experienced and knowledgeable BDSM practitioners since we first started about six months back. In September this year, a lovely couple from Seattle passed our shores and expressed their desire to run a workshop on authority-based relationships. Of course, we complied. This lovely pair, BrianR and MelR, also happen to be title holders. Together, they hold the titles of Northwest Master and slave 2013.

If you read that sentence more than once, don’t worry because I was as bewildered when I first heard their titles. You mean there are competitions for BDSM? That was the first question that ran through my mind. How does one compete for the title of best slave? That was the second question. I had a brief image of a woman in fetish gear being put through her paces like in a dog show. Very…

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