A Little Clarification, but First...

In a recent entry, I wrote of my lustful dream of the lovely, though weird, Dita von Teese. Kate, the cheeky (von) Minx, has decided to exact her revenge. She has posted a picture of her gothic dream girl. What's a girl to do? Please swing around Kate's blog and check it out.

What's the Story with the Bullshit?

I've had several emails from friends who are concerned for my mental welfare. I assure you I am not insane (well, not any more insane than I already am) and that all is well. Life is too short for Bullshit happens to be my motto. And I have developed a rather lowered tolerance for bullshit in recent weeks.

Several things that have occurred since my return from SA have only served to fuel my feelings about this and have lowered my already miniscule tolerance even further.

Pray tell: What is this Bullshit of which you speak?

You really want to know? Ha! I am really disappointed in some people I thought I could trust.

The current atmosphere at work is funereal. Indeed. It's like someone died. (Someone has, but you know what I mean) In fact, you'd have more fun at an actual funeral. I've been to one recently and I DID have more fun.

What Else Constitutes Bullshit?

A few examples, but by no means a complete list:

* Fake friends
* Telemarketers
* Sour faced, middle aged women who grimace at your attempts to make them smile
* Job hanging in the balance
* People who aren't direct and beat around the bush
* Junk mail
* Advertising
* Catholic adoption agencies willing to cut off their noses to spite their face
* Ignorant twats

Weird Dreams

Well, I am not suffering from Swiss Cheese Brain anymore. And if you are wondering why there's a picture of Dita von Teese on my blog today, the answer is simple: the only dream I had last night involved a very naked Dita von Teese BEGGING me to make love to her. Ha! (Sorry, Kate.) I have NO idea why I dreamt that. And the soon to be ex Mrs Marilyn Manson at that. But hey. It cheered me up. (Again, sorry, Kate.... if it's any consolation, the dream didn't go beyond the begging part. I kept telling her I was happily married, but she was determined to have her night with me. How sweet. Bizarrely this was all going on in the back rom of a beauty parlour where I worked as a tattooist and special effects make up person. Weird.)