Turning Lamebos Into Rainbows

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

1 Comment

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



Tattoos and Peeing


Ok I’m going to say this straight up; I’m 28 and I pee’d on the floor. I was legitimately shocked too, I didn’t mean to do it. It wasn’t a drunk blunder like my ex who pissed on the TV in the middle of the night, but rather a sober miscalculation of sorts..

I’m getting a new tattoo which happens to be on the back of my thigh. The first stint was the outline and it hurt like a mofo. I’m learning a lot about anatomy from this like:
*the back of your thigh is tender as f*ck and
*there’s shit in there that makes you twitch. My tattooist said it was like tattooing a jumping castle..

On the way home my leg seized up like a peg leg and then entered a lot of puddles against my will. I get inside and need to pee. Well fiddle-dee-dee, the seat is right where my painful leg would sit. Challenge accepted (mainly because I’m busting). So I manage to do the most awkward sitting position where one butt cheek is on the seat and the peg leg is in the air.

After a terrible nights sleep where I pretty much squashed my tits into flattened pancakes against the mattress, then coming to the conclusion that I can’t actually get any of my work pants on, nor fathom a day of physical work, I encounter my next two problems.

Problem 1: Getting my monthlies. There’s something about period blood and an open wound that screams unhygienic to me. If there are any female pirates with a peg leg and a tampon needing to be used, I understand your mental anguish. Let’s just leave it at that.

Problem 2: Needing to crap. I was half freaking out, half lolling at this little adventure.

Stupidly a day before getting started on the tat, I noticed that I needed to not only wash my hair, but also dye my hair. Did I do it? No.
Enter Problem 3: Dying hair. Hair dye and an open wound are again not feeling like the best match made in heaven but I do it anyway. I’ve got the day off work and I’m getting used to these awkward challenges so what could go wrong? Uhhhh yeah, I’m pretty sure I damaged my back somewhat. Apparently bending over forwards in the shower and washing the hair dye from neck down to the top of my head is like a bajillion times harder that doing it the opposite way. But I feel that it was the only way to keep the dye from running down my leg.


Well it took like 3-4 times as long. So apart from getting hair dye in my eyes various times, my hunched over position turned me into even more of a cripple.


In conclusion, the whole painful leg thing wore off in 2-3 days and I booked in to get the rest of it finished off.

Stint number two came around and I made sure it was a friday afternoon to solve the work clothes not fitting issue. I didn’t bother trying to change the pancake boobs situation but came up with a genius plan for the other issues:
1. Numbing cream – sometimes it’s ok to be a wimp ok?
2. Wash my hair before going.
3. Sit right forward on the toilet seat so the tat doesn’t touch it.

Well the bloody numbing cream wore off about halfway through, I realised I have visible roots in my hair and should have dyed it and my pee ended up going on the floor. My bad.

Not only that but while visiting the toilet for a #2, my dog yelped. Cue the freak out and ‘quicken this shit up!’ (literally) because of all the times to possibly yelp, this truly was bad timing. Footnote: I hobbled out of the bathroom in a frenzy and she was sitting there wagging her tail and smiling. Errrr.. Cheers.

Of course there’s always little lessons to be learnt along the way. Today for example, I swept the floor with a semi-peg leg and noticed something hilarious. When you bend over to pick up say, a pile of dust with your dustpan and broom, you will look like a giraffe drinking. There’s no casual bending over as normal.


Also, sneezing while bent over like a giraffe and holding a dustpan of dust is not attractive and results in further sweeping.

So now after all this, I look at girls with tattooed legs posing for a casual selfie and think ‘cute as that selfie is, you and I know that you’ve probably pissed on the floor.’


UNLESS everyone else has thought more logically; as the ever-wise NU pointed out to me, “you should get a shewee!”


I asked a guy friend with a tattooed butt how he sat on the toilet during recovery. “Like normal. I just sucked it up and dealt with the pain”. Ok smarty pants.

Either which way it’s safe to say that reality is rarely glamorous. Keep it real peeps!

Rambling Goat


Period Blood: An insight into the greatness of a man.

We’ve all had them – bloody incidents. Period blood ends up where it shouldn’t and the proceeding encounter with your paramore or last night’s pickup is awkward at best.

I do believe there’s something good that can arise from this awkwardness though. Men, I know this is alien territory to you, but the way in which you respond to this icky incident is going to be noted. It legitimately shows us how great you are.

I’ve had 3 period-meets-man incidents in the last 2 months. Maybe this is because I don’t have a little calendar that maps out when I’m due, or maybe it’s because life finds it hilarious to put me in awky situations. It even gave me 3 ‘Aunt Flo’s’ in 2 months. Fucker.

The first was a full blown blood on the sheets sex incident with DD.
The second was a get your rags literally seconds before a play session incident with my play partner.
The third was a “Umm do you have a cut on your foot because there’s blood on the floor” followed by shifty eyes incident with DD again.

There was one amazing occurrence through this – they didn’t care. They didn’t screw up their face, they didn’t say ‘yuck!!’ and they didn’t seem to be looking at me differently. They reacted calmly and positively. They found solutions in a matter of seconds. This absolutely shows me that they’re not douchebag idiots, they’re genuine great guys. They understand it’s life and sometimes awkward incidents happen, no big deal.

When I was younger, the guys I encountered were not exactly courteous. The mere mention of period and they would scamper across the room with a horrified look on their face. Call it immaturity or call it douchebaggery – hello, we’re not diseased! We hope.. And yes, we think it’s gross too! Except maybe this girl..image

So as much as we curse the evil that is menstruation, maybe it’s not so evil after all. It’s a natural douchebag radar 🙂

Oh and another quick lesson to be learnt.. Don’t go to the bathroom naked and tamponless when you have your rags. Jus sayin :/

Rambling Goat


Life as a people phobe

Social anxiety (or what I prefer to call “hermit hoboness”) is a pickle of a dickle to live with. It’s this thing that looms over you and squelches your heart into palpitations when faced with the prospect of *gasp* interacting with humans.

Let me give you a low down on the things that are normal for most but are sucky or terrify me.

Phone calls bring pain

I hate talking to people on the phone. It’s painful. The stress of not being able to hear them, or understand Them, or talk to someone I don’t know. Ergh.

Every ring gives me a heart attack and I battle to decide whether to answer the phone or not.

Hence why my phone is always on silent.  Or I just leave it upstairs – out of sight out of mind.

The dreaded greeting hug

What is with everyone and their need to physically touch me?

Can’t a wave suffice? Thumbs up perhaps?

The worst is when it’s a hug kiss combo. Why not through acid in my eyes too?!?


Friends scare me

You would think that you should feel comfortable around your friends and be yourself, yeah? Not for me. Even with the best of friends, I still get incredibly apprehensive meeting them and hanging out.

Even having a good time makes my face ache.

Meeting new people is torture

Why not just lock me up in an iron maiden covered in my own feces instead?

Meeting people turns me into a deer in headlights – I just freeze and want to die. We met some blogger friends who can probably attest to me being as exciting as a limp lemur on morphine. Can’t. Deal. With. Newness. Ugh.

Not to mention having to remember new names, and then you forget their name and then you die.

New people + the greeting hug = certain death

Pretty sure murder is evil, soooo….. if you haven’t known me for 28 years then don’t touch me or you will have a spontaneously combusted corpse to clean off your shoes.

Everybody hates me

Because the situation is so stressful, you overthink every single thing and come to the conclusion that you suck and everybody hates you and WHY DID YOU COME OUT OF YOUR CAVE?

Omg you said something and no one responded – THEY THINK YOU SUCK.

Does that chick have dirt in her eye? NOPE SHE HATES YOU YOU CREEPY FUCKER.

It’s near impossible to just chillax and not be thinking about every single move you make so that you don’t implode and die.

…………aaaaaand I just got turkey slapped.


Lost my spot now – so YEAH there’s an insight into the world of social anxiety.  So next time you judge someone for being quiet, or boring, or creepy, just take a moment to think about what kind of internal battle may be going on.

Nonsense Unicorn


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 😛

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


Funerals and Hash Muffins

I’m the kind of person that feels something on their lip, sucks their lips in together and then realises there’s a fly pinned between them. Yeah, that happened 2 days ago.

So with that in mind, and surely you all know me by now, you won’t be surprised by this story.

It started with a funeral. It was for someone in my partner’s extended family who I’ve never met. Still though, it quickly became apparent that this situation may be inappropriate.

Bf pointed out he could see my undies line. I wasn’t prepared to change my outfit, sooo.. Enter the g-string. Ok if you wear them all the time, you’re not going to see the big deal about wearing a g-string to a funeral but I literally only wear them in the bedroom! It’s a sexy, naughty, special thing for me. I was around crying people and staring at a coffin presumably with an old lady laying in it (or was it empty and they use the same coffin for all the services?) I felt whheeeeyyyy inappropriate.

So cue the beers and the stuffing of food into myself at the wake. The fact that my bf didn’t introduce me to a single family member didn’t help with my food and alcohol intake. Luckily his mum and grandma did so I didn’t *completely* feel like some awkward random.

Later on I mentioned it and he apologised. Apparently they weren’t worth introducing me to. I can kind of understand it but he ALWAYS fails to introduce me. It happened a week ago when we were grocery shopping – I was chatting to and laughing with this guy that I hadn’t been introduced to. Later on he was surprised “oh sorry I thought you already knew him. I’m sure I’ve introduced you before? You and him were acting like you knew eachother..?” Nope. I was turning lamebos into rainbows. People, introduce your partner to people you’re chatting to! Seriously.

Anyway back to the story. The beers stopped for a little bit back at home as we had to hang a new cupboard in the kitchen. Enter Mr Agro. His sister and I were holding the weight of the cupboard and he wasn’t happy with anything we did. Holding a heavy cupboard while being ridiculed by someone was not fun. So of course I started on the beers again. No, I do not recommend being an alchy as a way to numb shitty situations but thats kind of how I live at the moment. Don’t worry I get my comeuppance for that decision, you’ll see!

So there were beers, friends over, we were all sitting around having a good time. I end up telling one of the boys to invite his two girl friends over, both of which I kind of have a thing for. I don’t remember much after that except that one of them turned up, said she wanted me to be her hair model (she’s a hairdresser) and we both agreed to peg our close friend (for some reason bf is ok with that).

I have a vague recollection of running out of beers (I’d only had 5-6), seeing a bag of hash muffins and consuming some..

Nek minut, I’m messaging bf to get him to get people out of our room. The perils of having your bed in a mancave. I was feeling pretty shite. He got them out then asked if I was going to be sick. Ummm yep. And then because I’m clearly the hottest girl out there, I vomited into the dog’s water bowl.

But dear friends, I wasn’t done. Bf was gagging at this point (he’s a sympathetic vomiter). He asked me to take it outside and tip it out in the garden. I told him I couldn’t get up. He begged. So I tried to get up and oops, I knocked the bowl and vomit tipped out onto the sheets.

I finally got it outside and bf (while still gagging) changed the sheets. He made me sleep on the couch in case I was going to be sick again but when I got cold and hopped back into bed, he gave me nice warm cuddles.

So I’ve learnt:
*partners are good for some things and fucking terrible at other things.
*hash muffins should only be consumed in places where it’s legal (who made this disgusting vomit-inducing muffin? Grumpy Cat?!)

*only wear a g-string to a funeral if there is alcohol and good food.
*telling everyone your embarrassing story can result in 2 sick bags being donated to you for your bedside drawer. Yay, totally prepared for next time now!

Rambling Goat