Turning Lamebos Into Rainbows

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


Roommates: fucks sake not again

Shit hit the fan last night at around 12:40am on a work night.  You’d think that I would have learnt my lesson from the last time that roommates just don’t work in my home. I’m just not made for cohabitation, especially not with gronks anyway.

Back story: for the past four months or so one of Boy’s friends, let’s call him Gronk,  has been living with us. First it started to help him out with a break up, but it’s somehow turned into a seemingly more permanent arrangement...

So last night Boy and Gronk go to the pub for what was meant to be just a couple of drinks, and then turned into late night karaoke. It was organised that they would bring back dinner at 8:30 once I finished my uni class, but I get a text saying they’re going to stay out (even though Boy starts work at 630am and struggles more than me with mornings).

So already I’m hangry from that and decide to go to bed. Strike one.

After a few hours of not being able to sleep, at 12:40am I hear the front door open and hear four voices. What the? The noise then proceeds to our courtyard and I can hear bogan banter, beers and bad singing.

Urge to kill rising.

I go downstairs and the straw on my back snaps. Some old dero bogan man and beanie wearing cunt nugget bitch are sitting on the rabbit cage with beers with Boy and our room mate. At 12:40am on a work night. Oh hell no.

“What the fuck is this? Yeah no this is not happening, get the fuck out of my house”.

Cunt nugget bitch pipes up, “uh no, that’s for him (points to Gronk roommate) to decide”. Gronk roommate who is a guest in our house, has the final say in whether it’s cool that our place turns into a late night party haven and public menac to our neighbours.

Now let me point out that it has been explicitly discussed my expectations and needs for our place. I don’t care if you go out, you don’t bring it back to the house. It’s important for home to be a sanctuary for my mental health. 

By instead they bring strangers into the home that I have built with Boy for years, and somehow turn me into a stranger in my own fuckng house.

I cracked it at Boy. I told him I’m fucking done with this kind of bullshit and I’m leaving. I told him have fun being single with his fuckface Gronk friend. I’m going to my parents house.

He was drunk, rambled about how yeah he fucked up once and I’m a psycho. I told him it’s not this once, too many times similar to this over months and years and this is the straw that broke the camels back.

He doesn’t have my back. He can’t put himself into my shoes. It’s just about what he wants to do and have fun, and I always have to just suck it up and deal with what he wants, otherwise I’m the bitch.

I left and went to my parents house.

I guess we are broken up now. I’m not talking to him today as I’m still angry and upset. I can’t go back right now to get stuff either as I will probably smash Gronk roommates guitar in his face.

I guess this is the end.

Nonsense unicorn


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 

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A Unicorn’s Guide to Dating

For some reason my reader on WordPress is full of hapless tales of dating by men and women.  Totally not a problem, although there seems to be quite a pattern of “rules and regulations” you are apparently meant to follow in the dating world which I think is quite ridiculous (and obviously not working for a lot of people).

So, as someone who has been in many a relationship (current one 4.5 years) and never actually been on a date myself – I think I’m totes the right authority here to give you all some advice on how to go about this dating bizzo!

So throw out all your The Game and He’s Just Not That Into You bibles and guides and check out my Unicorn Guide to Dating.

What to Wear

Spending hours standing outside your wardrobe trying to concieve the right outfit to wear on your date?  Do they like heels, is my skirt too short?  Should I wear a tshirt?  Well, here is a well hidden secret that fashion designers will hate you for…..wear whatever the damn hell YOU want.  That is all.  Wear a dang potato sack or onesie if that makes you comfortable.


But NU, what if they judge me for my potato sack?

Tell them to swallow a rusty whisk and GTFO.  Do you want to be with someone who is going to fob you off for what you wear?  Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not, be you!  This coming from someone who has picked people up when dressed as a dog, transvestite and a onesie.

When you should call/ text/ email

There seems to be a strict formula out there, where you should divide the time you spent together on the date and multiply that by 543 then square root to the power of 4 to get the exact time and date of when you should contact them again.  Wrong by 4.34 of a decimal? BOOM they’re gonna hate you forever!

My homies, just message when you want to talk to them.  Next day, next week, whatever.  If someone is gonna be all “ermagherd he texted me like 32 hours after our date, what a needy beedy” then stuff them!


Disclaimer:  just don’t be a total stalker messaging fifty billion times every second before they respond to you, that is a little much…

When should the P go into the V (or P into A, or V into V… whatevs)

My current boy pretty much is a one night stand that wouldn’t go away, and now we’re totally happy and crazy living together with fur babies and shenanigans.  Actually, pretty much all my relationships (bar one as a youngun 18 year old, we waited like 3 weeks…) have been clingy one night standers. Sooooo I reckon when your pringle gets the tingle then your privates gotta mingle!


If they think you’re a hoe or man-whore after that, then they’re not worth your time.  The right person will know you’re worth sticking around for!



And I think that’s enough advice for now, or you all are gonna be getting married and loved up left right and centre!  Maybe more to come when I could be bothered – I am a unicorn after all and have pretty important sparkle parties to attend to.


Nonsense Unicorn


I’m Not In Love

I’m not in love, so don’t forget it. It’s just a silly phase I’m going through…

Sitting upstairs trying to listen to a disgusting statistics tutorial,  I hear my  bellowing and heavily depressed boyfriend downstairs on the phone crying to his mother:

“I love her but I’m not in love with her”.

My heart sinks.  The computer screen seems to zoom out and blur as my chest begins to contort rapidly against invisible ropes, a swelling lump of dread scratching the back of my tongue and choking me.  Woah, for a perpetually numb and stone walled individual this feeling is intense.  Too bad it’s full of the usual melancholic stress and demise.

We have been having our problems lately, and we’re both aware of that.  He is fucking depressed and crippled with anxiety, and I’m so pro at depression I’m like a walking ghost that no one knows the wiser is merely an empty shell.  We’re like two blind frogs trying to stay on the same lily pad together.  We have discussed this, we know life is shit yadda yadda, but we also decided that we love each other too much and it’s worth fighting for and all that crap.

And then I hear this.

The typical girl inside me wrote a note on a post it, took it down to him and gave it to him, storming back up to the study to pretend like I was learning about numbers and shit.

I can hear everything.

His phone call ends and, crying, he follows me up.  Oblivious and in a stupor to what he could have possibly said.  I couldn’t tell if it was denial and an awww shiiit how do I cover this or actual cluelessness.

“What did I say? I was talking to my mum,” he wails.

“Oh, that you love me but you’re not in love with me.  Fine. Make a fool of me.  I’m done”.  The ropes constricting my frail rib cage even more.

“What?! I said I love you!  Mum said that being in love with someone is the honeymoon when you first meet and then things change.  That’s what – we aren’t in the honeymoon period anymore.”

Hoooooooold up a minute.  My head is going whack.  My concepts and contexts of what is love are getting all muddled up.

Yeah I know relationships change, the honeymoon period ends, things turn into a roller coaster, but I always thought it was the being IN love with someone that made it worth all while.

Does being in love just constitute that honeymoon period?

Aren’t  you meant to be in love the whole time?  Or is it just a temporary destination?

If you fall out of the honeymoon phase, have you fallen out of love?

Because, to me, I love many a thing.

I love my parents.

I love my friends.

I love my pets.

I love schnitzel.

I love lamp.

But it is that special, heart burning up love that tethers me to this fool.

If he is not in love with me, then what is this?  Cos if I get a schnitzel I don’t like then I just don’t eat it – I ain’t gonna take the time to make a gravy to make it taste better.  I’ll just get a new schnitzel.

He doesn’t get why I am distressed and upset at this.  Am I missing something here?

Does “romantic love” exist not being “in” love?


nonsense unicorn


Couples Counselling

I used to think couples counselling was lame and futile. Like a sign that you’re just prolonging the inevitable break up. I used to think that if I ever got to that point in a relationship that it’s time to go Hans Solo. You’re done. Quit trying to fool yourself and let go.

But I guess that was before I found someone that is truly worth fighting for. Someone worth making that extra effort and rather than butt heads like stubborn Rams and throw my hands up in the air, I am willing to do something drastic to invest in my relationship.

Invest in my relationship to make it better.

Because a relationship, like anything in our lives, takes work and time and effort. We easily put additional effort into our careers, friendships, qualifications, and even ourselves by going to therapy or massages or even reading a book. Like any of these aspects in our lives, relationships deserve an investment too.

Some like to think that if there’s love then it will all just work out, and if it’s not working out than its not meant to be. Relationships don’t just happen. Okay maybe for some people they do, but if you’re having a few struggles with communication or something else then that’s okay – it is still okay to get outside help.

Because to me, a true relationship is two individuals making a bond with each other. And like any individual who thinks and sees things their own way, sometimes you are bound to clash with someone else – be it romantic partner, friend or parent.

Shit happens sometimes. Bad periods happen sometimes. It is life. And it is okay to get help.

Nonsense unicorn


Uncomfortably Numb

Disclaimer:  There are no rainbows in this post, only dark and pendulous clouds of melancholic woe. Lamebo, right?

I have a secret to tell:  I am clinically depressed.  Not only that, but I am an inherent masochist to the slave that is depression that I have gone by untreated for so long and I have just become a festering glob of sadness and apathy, beyond the ability to cry or feel and just pitifully numb about my existence.  The emo teenager that resides within used to call this existence an “iron maiden” chained around my heart and soul.

The hows and whys of how I have become tainted with the dark slimes of woe are beyond me.  I guess sometimes it just happens.  I recall leaving my high school graduation to drive into the deep and dark bush alone to ponder the ending of my life, instead of celebrating with friends.  I got home and cried to mother that I was depressed, only met with the advice to “just be happy”.

Just be happy.

I don’t even know if I know what that means. I mean sure, I go out and do perceptually exciting things, travel, go on drunken adventures – many people would perceive me to be a happy individual.  But I fear all that is just a facade and I couldn’t really tell you the true warmth or feeling of the term.  As the great late Freddie said, I am the great pretender.


If it was socially and financially viable, I could probably remain locked up in a room alone for eternity and not really bat an eye lid or sigh.  I spend most of my evenings staring at the wall or just looking at the tv and not seeing anything but nothingness.

Comfortably numb.

And why I am writing this today, my dear rainbow chasers, is that the numbness that consumes me is oozing out of my pores and beginning to entangle those I love around me in my melancholic poopery.  And I am poisoning my relationship with boy.

But I guess the deterioration of our relationship is not all my fault – I’m not that good.  He is terribly crippled by a lovely concoction of anxiety and depression that has put it’s own strain on our relationship and turned me into more of a carer than a lover.   Which really couldn’t be helped when you are calling ambulances on numerous occasions or trying to get him out of bed after 32 hours of sleeping.  Digression.

Long story short, we have both had enough of being two blind lamebos bashing our heads against a wall with no intimacy or communication.  But, we love each other too much to walk away…..

Something’s got to give. I need to get the professional help to detach the horribly old and decrepit monkey Off of my back so I can start living with light, not in perpetual darkness. I want life to stop looking like a beat up black and white movie, waiting for it to start while the days wither away.

I have tried before. I’ve been on the meds that made my brain feel like it was suspended in deep fog. I’ve been to appointments where “psychologists” my age have smiled and nodded andreitterated how “bad that must make me feel” – yes I feel bad you dick, I need some help to stop this carousel of negativity in my mind. It’s so tiring. So I gave up for a while, just decided that perhaps if I pretend to be normal it will just go away – but all its done is make me more numb.

This Time I will try it for real – at least I will do it for the boy.

We also need to get some *shudder* couples counselling to get our communication open and functioning so we don’t lose each other.

My heart cries and says that our love is worth fighting for, that we can’t lose what we have as it is special, although it has been stained with the vice of mental illness and resentment.

But the emo within laments that it is already too late, that I was a fool to begin with to ever think I could sustain a relationship or be worthy of deep love…

And so it is. Will see how we go, and hope that hearts don’t get shredded on the way.
Nonsense unicorn


Why I need to break up with boyfie

I’ve been following Ann’s progress (or lack thereof) with Tony and thought I better take a good hard look at my relationship progress.

In all honesty, I’m sitting on the fence really. I know we need to stop dating because we’ve started heading in different directions and having different relationship wants, but I’m so freaked out that everything will change in an instant. I can’t just pack my bags and leave. I have made *some* progress though..

We’ve had the ‘single’ talk, I’ve moved into a different bedroom and we only see eachother for a few hours each night. We’re both somewhat disconnected but we haven’t completely let go yet. I think it’ll take me a bit of time, if ever. I don’t want to lose him out of my life.

Anyway I guess I’ll list all my reasoning for staying vs. going and see if that helps.

What I want that he doesn’t provide (keep in mind that he wasn’t always like this – our relationship has been getting progressively worse and this is where we’re currently at):
*Dates. He doesn’t take me anywhere. Granted, he doesn’t go to nice places like markets on his own or with other people anyway, but how hard is it to spend one moment a week doing something with me? If he does take me anywhere (eg. Dinner), there’s always other people with us.
*Interest. He’s never interested in what I want to do, what’s happening in my life etc. I’m sure this could be seen as selfish or arrogant but really I think hes just so focused on his own life (about to start a new job, start his own weekend business and always has friends over) that hes forgotten about me as an individual.
*Encouragement. Ok he does provide encouraging words with short term things (“you’ll go great in your job interview!”) but I have long term goals that he has shut down. I told him I wanted to own a brewery and big garden with a cafe etc and he responded with “that’s never going to happen, let’s be realistic”.
*Couple time. There isn’t a night during the week that we sit and watch TV, a movie or sit and eat dinner together – just us. There are always people in our room (mancave) which is why I now have my own room (hen den). Apparently if I warn him ahead of time, I can have a ‘bub night’ whereby we sit and chill together but a) he told me about this like 3 weeks after I moved in (gee thanks), and b) he sits for a while then goes out to the deck to smoke joints with the boys. Apparently ‘bub night’ isn’t the whole night.. I should have read the fine print.
*Fun. We just don’t do fun stuff anymore. All he does is work, go to the gym, eat, watch tv and drink and smoke with his friends and brothers. All I do is work on the renos in his house, clean, cook and chat to friends and randoms via social media and msging apps. I want to go out and do things! Jake has been getting me out of the house to go hang with him (thanks sunshine!) but I know if I see him too much, bf will get the shits. I need some local friends to do fun stuff with (Jake and NU are 1.5 hrs away) and/or for bf to suddenly become fun. Ha!
*A drug-free partner. Ok yeah, I’ve had my moments but I’m 28 now. I don’t want a partner who smokes weed. Or take any drugs for that matter (I need to break the attraction to junkies). Or even smoking cigarettes! The massive cheapskate in me sees that as throwing money into the rubbish (well actually that would be better; a homeless person might get the money and your chance of getting cancer is lower Huzzah!). The ashtray breath on bf and his stinky clothes make me not want to get close to him so intimacy is compromised.
*Settling down. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t need to go buy a house and have a baby right this second, but even to rent a place up the road is out of the question for him. He seems to think he can’t afford it. Why can’t you afford it? Write up your expenses, make a budget, create a plan so that you’re not still living at home in your 40’s. He’s on quite a good wage, has no dependants (well just me with groceries), so how in God’s name can he not afford $150-200 a week for rent?
*Kinky fun sex. I’m dying here guys. There has been no privacy for us since I moved here and he doesn’t seem to want to make time for us to play (wtf honestly?!). We can take advantage of the rare times people are out but seem to get interrupted by phone calls, banging on our door when people get home and let’s just say my needs aren’t met in those times. So fuck that. There’s Sunday morning (he usually works saturdays) but he usually has a big night Saturday night, doesn’t wake up until like 10 am and by then there’s kids and grandparents wandering around and making noise right outside our window. Plug hungover bf isnt all that sexually attractive. Ugh. I give up.

What he provides that I love:
*Stability. While living here I have a bed (and even got a new bedroom in his family home), food, friends, beer. I’ve pretty much run out of money now and still have no job so he’s been financially supportive to me by paying for food (although not without whinging occasionally which I guess is fair enough).
*Respects my privacy during bigger events. It’s very hard in this house to get away from people. If there’s a party going on and I go to his room and tell him I’m having quiet time, he keeps everyone out of there (which being a ‘mancave’, is a hard task). At times I’ve given him the door key, locked the door and he just uses the keys when he needs to get in.
*Love. We’ve known eachother a long time and we do truly love eachother. Every morning he wakes me up at 4:30 am to say “kisses?” and gives me a big smooch before he leaves for work. He gives me cuddles if I’m sad and if I tell him I saw a spider in the fireplace, he opens the door so it can run out (it totally did, I saved its life! Good karma 🙂 ).
*My dogs love him. Some people say that they only date people their kids like. Well, my dogs are my children. And for someone who doesn’t look after pets all that well, he does a darn good job of looking after my dogs. I’ve changed bedrooms and he still has my dogs in his mancave, they actually prefer it in there!
*A lovely family. Look, the women in his life are obsessed with drama but aside from that they’re a big loving family who love me and I love them. I’ve worked with 3 of the 4 boys and the other one I’ve seen grow up from a 15 year old to a 21 year old. I’ve shared so many milestones with this family – birthdays, funerals, engagements, family reunions, babies, learning to drive, a couple of near-death medical emergencies, holidays (Japan with his brother and Nth Australia with the boys) etc etc. In the past he told me that if we broke up that his brothers wouldn’t talk to me any more out of respect for him (emotional blackmail at its finest) but he now says that I can talk to them all still if we break up.

I guess just bf and I living together is different to living with and growing up with his family. That’s the part I’m stuck on – I’m not just dating him, I’m a part of the family. And I don’t really want to lose them.

Becoming more of a housemate (well its not like we’re going on dates and he chooses chillin with the boys to sex with me anyway..) seems to fix all those issues but it will only last so long. I’m happy for bf to pick up girls but I wouldn’t dare do anything of the sort with a guy while living here.

That and no one (including us) knows what’s going on with our relationship. Although now that I’ve read this entire post through, I realise that we are already broken up whether we call it that or not. Actions speak louder than words as they say.

I’m hoping time will fix everything. Once I get a job and car I’ll feel more independent and probably more confident to move out. For now I’m in my hen den with 8 different gaming consoles and a shitload of movies and TV shows. This housemate is going into hibernation for winter 😀

Rambling Goat