Turning Lamebos Into Rainbows

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


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I’m back! Kinda..

Sorry gang, it’s been a while since I posted. Long story short I bought a house interstate, moved into it, moved my grandma in as a flatmate (definite post material there!) and have moved my attention more to Fetlife because I’m a filthy sluzzbag and have forgotten to try and help others with my awkwardness and eccentric logic. My bad!

I also got the first proper permanent (or ‘ongoing’ as it seems to be called now) job I’ve ever had. At age 30… Gen Y’ers, I know you feel me!

pants

For those interested, I’m still with DD (but living in different states is working out WAY better), and have 2 potential partners close to home.

Conclusion: I’m super fekkin busy and haven’t had time/energy/mental capacity to blog. I suspect I wont have much time to blog moving forward but you never know, I’ll try and bust out a few now while I have a moment!

Overall, life is going pretty sweet. I decided what I wanted in life right now and after a hard, rough slog, got there, yaaaaas!

Rambling Goat

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Moving and skating and graduation, oh my

Well life has been one cluster fuck over the past few months. Let me regail you on a bit of a breakdown of what’s being going on in unicorn town:

  • So boy and I were pretty much on hiatus for like 3 weeks or something, during that time I ran away and lived with my parents.  After this time we both had long hard looks at our relationship and life and all that, and decided that although we have a lot to work on its worth fighting for. So we decided to give it another go.
  • Nek minnit we have put our notice in at our place and are moving into a one bedder! Roommate was a child about it and we haven’t seen him since. Meh.
  • Handed in my last essay and completed my last exam – given that I pass it all, I know officially have completed another qualification. Let’s add Graduate Diploma in Psychological Sciences to the end of my name with the rest of the qualifications I have and do absolutely fuck all with. Now to decide whether to give honours a go, the post grad diploma before masters, or just give up and resign to the fact that I’m too dumb to ever be a legit psychologist so I should probs just shut up and keep working admin and maybe pop out a spawn soon or something.

  • I’m totally doing a fresh meat course for roller derby. I’m not the worse in the pack, but my confidence is definitely not there to believe that I will get through it to actually make it onto the team one day. But skating is fun, and it’s a lesson for me to try to keep persisting and not let my lack of confidence get the better of me.


And add work being a big shit ball of busyness and annoying people, that’s my life right about now. Just so you know. Not that it’s very exciting or anything, but you know, sometimes writing about this crap helps validate existence. That or I’m just procrastinating at work. Eh.
NU


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ART WANK

I’ve always been of the somewhat opinion that contemporary art is a bunch of massive wank.  My appreciation always halted at Lichtenstein, or sometimes Warhol, but after that it’s always rather pissed me off than anything else.  Compared to the actual skill and talent of the classics, I have been all WTF is with painting a canvas black (I can do that), smack a $20,000 price tag on it and call it art because the art resides in what is not on the canvas. Piss off.

Anyway, this is all up until I visited MONA and ermagherd some artworks actually made me feel shit.  Quite a surprise. If you haven’t been, you totally need to go to Tasmania and check this out!  It’s pretty much a museum of art that’s the private collection of this gambling guru, so there’s a mix of old awesome stuff and weird ass contemporary shit (like literally a shit machine. Literally. It eats and poops. Art.)

So after my visit, there’s a few artists that I have been obsessing about since then.  I couldn’t be bothered to provide my review cos that’s not what I’m writing about.  If you like creepy Silent Hillesque shit, check out Patricia Piccinini or Berlinde De Bruyckere.  I’ve always been a bit of a morbid unicorn, there’s just a certain beauty in the seemingly twisted and grotesque artworks. I’m loving it.

One particular artist I’m obsessing about and have had epiphanies (well, not really, but felt something something) about life and all that kinda crap is Andres Serrano.  He’s a famous and hectic controversial photographer, where he’s used a lot of bodily fluids in photos (think Metallica Load and Reload album covers! That’s his blood and spooge!), as well as taken photos of the Klu Klux Klan and homeless people.  “Controversial”, but again there’s just a different perspective and beauty to his art where for the first time I actually appreciate a photographer, where most I’ve met are super duper wankers.

I’m not so much interested in all that work mentioned above, but he did a project called The Morgue Series (Cause of Death).  Pretty much he had access to a morgue and took photos of some dead people.  But seriously, it’s not as crass or horrible as it first sounds.  I’m not going to post any of the pictures here because everyone has difference experiences and thoughts and feelings on death, but I saw one of these photos at Mona and it just made me feel…..not numb. Even for a moment.

Click here if you want to see Blood Transfusion Resulting in AIDS by Andres Serrano, the picture that has made me think and feel and shit.  I’ve never really been scared of death, I’ve always felt a somewhat peaceful release associated with it, and this picture, as well as the others, still manages to capture the soul and life of going to the other side…

SO! Here’s where the lamebo part comes in.  I went to a friend’s party on the weekend and an old mate, who used to be legit cool and nice and down to earth back in school days, but now is a massive wanker photographer (who mainly takes hipster wedding photos and glamour shots of his girlfriend) sits down to have a chat.  He starts the usual mundane “what’s been happening, what you doing etc” conversation, but me being adverse to that boring bullcrap small talk, bring up Andres Serrano.

“OMG ArtWank, you know Andres Serrano right?  He’s super famous, if you haven’t you really need to check his shit out as a photographer.  He takes photos of spooge and dead people, but man there’s a strange magic to what he does.  Look him up!”

He googles the name, sees the picture of Piss Christ, looks at me weird, and then totally does the “uhh… I have to go over here now”.

What. A. Wanker.  Like, okay so you don’t have to like it, but I always feel that, particularly in the art world, you should always be open and perhaps know your art?  Know your competition?  Be aware of other modes of creation, instead of living in your own bubble of what you do?  And moreover, screw you for being a wanker!  You used to be cool with my inherent strange conversations but now you’re just allergic to fun.

I’ve gotten used to weirding people out with my morbid obscurity, but seriously. Open your mind.

ON an unrelated matter, totally re-discovering The Smiths.  Where were they when I was a hopelessly melancholic teenager? (Who am I trying to kid saying was lol only change is I’ve got more wrinkles and saggy tits now…)

Nonsense Unicorn over and out

 

 


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Because you’re worth it

To add to the conquest list, this douche comes in at number 13. I’ve already blogged about him, so I’m just going to link to this post so you know the deal.

Moral of the story is that it was yet another one night stand that stuck around like a bad smell, mind fucking me for about 3 years.

Why do I fuck so many assholes?

Nonsense unicorn

Turning Lamebos Into Rainbows

We accept the love we think we deserve.

 

Ah, Perks of Being a Wallflower,  how your words run true.  Why is it that so many people find themselves in relationships that destroy them?  I know it’s never as simple as the above quote,  but I really wonder why sometimes.  And many of us let our hearts me imprinted with soot and poo in these destructive relationships.  Even me, once (or twice.  I know, right?!)

Is it truly a reflection of how we view ourselves from within?

My heart went through quite an arduous journey at the hands of a fool, once upon a time.  What was meant to be a one night stand turned into a tumultuous 3 year affair.  In the beginning it was all good,  after the initial one night stand we ended up meeting again for another night of frivolity.  Which then turned into fortnightly meet…

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Stink Dick

It was the season of 21sts and the single period after Cherry and I broke up. I was at that stage of being over the heartache and not really giving a crap about guys, just getting drunk and having a good time.

I’m at a friends costume party dressed as a dog, and something something who knows how it happened but I end up sleeping with this guy. Let’s call him SD.

Side note: wtf is with picking up guys when dressed up? And I’m not talking about the slut version of costumes, I had freakin black spots painted on my face. Perhaps a closet furry?

Anyway, so it kind of turned in to a one night stand that wouldn’t go away and somehow turned into a relationship. A quite mundane and boring relationship. I think it was the epitome of a rebound, no feeling but it fills the time kind of thing.

We would do relatively boring things – eat dinner and then fuck in my car. He never focused on making me cum (don’t think I ever did? Not worth remembering).

And OMG he had stink dick. Like, how can you be 21 with stink dick? Do you even shower? And I actually put that thing inside me. Gross. But at the time I was young and thought perhaps it was normal or something .


6 months down the track I was somewhat looking for an excuse to break up with him (the dude wore skinny jeans for jeebus sakes!) Luckily, he went away for a weekend  with friends and one of my bfs was part of the crowd. She caught him fucking this known slag and let me know.

Who would have thought that cheating could bring so much elation, but there we were. So I was at work and couldn’t wait until I finished. I texted him to come meet me and dumped him there. Dumb ass denied it the whole time which made it so much easier, because dude you were caught red handed.

He lost a unicorn for one night with a hippo. 

Conquest count: 12

Nonsense unicorn


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A few filler fellas

Or a few filler fucks, but perhaps that’s a bit too crass for a heading. Also, How’s that for alliteration! Anyway, I thought I would get back to my conquest list.

There are a couple that are just not full blog worthy, so I thought I would just provide a quick list of some of the conquests that I can remember.

Sharing is caring: RG’s Ex

After the douche that broke my esteem, I was feeling terribly down and shitty about myself and just wanted to crawl up in a hole and die. Believing that no guy would want to touch me ever again if I was truly as disgusting as douche wad made me out to be.

So RG being the good friend she is said I should totally hit up her ex for a good time to help. And so I did.

Probably one of the most hilarious and awkward things I have done!


Two boring jack hammers

Then there are two guys from school that ended up as drunken screws. Nothing exciting, too drunk and no self esteem to care, ended up back at their place to be a starfish to their jack hammer. Walk of shame in the morning.


I didn’t know it at the time as I didn’t know them well enough, but apparently they both had girlfriends so I was unknowingly the “other woman” for a night. What jerks.

And that brings us to the double digits….

Nonsense unicorn

Conquest count: 11


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Loves of my Life

I reckon we experience a lot of different loves in our lifetimes, as we fumble through on the eternal search for that one sparkly human that lights up your world.

I thought I would share a couple of the stories of the loves I have experienced in my 29 years of being.

The Star Crossed Love

I was 16 years old (cue Benny Mardones here) and on a family holiday overseas to the mother land to meet family. Days spent hanging out on a farm, one of my cousins mates was interested in me and a love bloomed.


It was kinda disgusting how text book it was – it first started when he asked me to go to a town dance where we waltzed together and later kissed under the moonlight.

Followed by 6 weeks of moonlight picnics and day trips to town eating 6 ice creams just to prolong the time we were spending together.

He spoke broken English and my understanding of the language was crappy, but somehow we connected and made it work.

Unfortunately due to the problem of me living a million miles away, we were torn apart at the end of the holiday, looking out the back window in tears as I saw the love of my life slowly fade in to the distance. We wrote love letters for a while but that slowly faded away.

My parents went over there not long ago. He is married with a kid now, but apparently when he gets drunk he still talks about me. 

The First Real Boyfriend

The cherry was my first real relationship. You know, proper dating and waiting a month to screw.

It lasted about 2.5 years but probably 1.5 years too long. I was in love, but I guess it was one of those things where you are more in love with being in a relationship than actually having a real deep connection.

I was hurt when it ended, but in retrospect it was more of an ego bruising than heartbreak.

The One that got away


I was so in love with the Watermelon for a very long time. Read the hyperlink for the whole story, but he was always that guy that (maybe I totally imagined it) like there was some kind of magnet there, but for some reason just never went anywhere. It was never meant to be, but I pined for so long.

We hooked up twice (no sex) which still stand as some of the sexiest moments I’ve had, as well as some of the most romantic (Nights in White Satin will always remind me of him).

I stepped away from our friendship to distance myself, and now he’s on his way to becoming a priest, so that probably says a lot about the situation.

Although I’ve been over it for a very long time, I still can’t help but wonder if there was anything there for him too. I guess I will never know.

The Lie


I spent a good three years of my life begging a fool to love me. It was through this experience that I actually learnt what real love is and that the right person will go the hard yards with you and that you are worth it.

Dumb mother fucker professed his love for me when I stopped seeing him when I met the Boy. Too little too late doy.

The Real Deal


And that brings me to The Boy today. Almost five years of up and down, and heck who knows if this is a forever deal, but at least I know that we have gone through a lot of waves and still something keeps us connected.

We have respect for each other, we get each other, we fight for each other. That’s pretty sweet for now.
And there’s the loves of my life. What’s yours?

Nonsense unicorn