Tuesday, 26 March 2013

It appears that not all that glitters is, in fact, gold.

The best way to insulate ones stomach is to eat a good and hearty meal, right? Wrong. Well wrong if that meal was satay chicken and you are trying to insulate it against glitter capsules whose sole purpose is to turn your shit into golden speckled nuggets of joy. Apparently I should have eaten a house brick that’s then been kilned by the skank breath of Satan himself instead. The following is the story of how amazing ideas, in theory, do not always translate into fantastic ideas in practice.

6.30pm 25/03/2013
After a busy afternoon of being a responsible adult; rescuing kitties from the rain, cleaning, shopping, washing and cooking (I’m definitely going to make some lady a lovely housewife one day), I sit down to a hearty meal of peanut satay chicken and rice. Momentarily forgetting my complete lack of tolerance for even the slightest of spicy food, I’ve managed to convince myself that this is a perfect meal to line my stomach with before beginning my quest to become the latest member of the gay mafia. I’m pretty certain that if you can shit glitter you must immediately qualify as a level 9000 homo.

After clearing away my plate I sit down to read the prescription and as it shows in Charlie’s earlier post, it recommends taking two capsules in the morning with food until the course has been completed or until awesome. Two, huh, probably should have paid more attention to that, or had my glasses on, because I took all twelve. ­Let me tell you right now that swallowing twelve capsules is not a fun task and at each interval of ingestion I found myself thinking the following:

*takes 2*
Surely she would have brought capsules that are actually safe to consume...right?
*takes 3 more*
I wonder if I should call my Mother and tell her I love her in case of some allergic reaction…
*takes 2 more*
I’m pretty sure this is going to go well.
*takes another 3*
Pretty sure.
*takes last two*
Oh well…

And so it was done. There was nothing left to do now but wait aaaannnddd silently start freaking out about what I’d just done.

8.30(ish)pm – 25/03/2013
A phone call to Charlie to chat about the day’s events turns into a laughfest detailing what exactly is going to happen over the next few hours. At one point I was laughing, ok cackling, so hard that I swear I felt something move. At this stage I’d experienced a lot of stomach pains and gas. I can’t tell if it was the capsules or the chicken. I’m going to put it down to the chicken. Naturally.
1.45am 26/03/2013
Woke up after having the most bizarre and bewildering dreams. Generally I’m blessed *cough yeah right, blessed* with incredibly vivid, insane and graphic dreams imaginable so whether it was just a psychological side effect of me taking these things or, until now, some unknown secret power of “non-toxic glitter” I was waking up to myself thinking “What the actual fucking fuck?”. The details of the dreams escape me now, clearly drowned out by the Enya music radiating from my gastrointestinal tract but rest assured I was riding high on the waves of nausea and crazy lady dreams.

8.45am 26/03/2013
At this stage I’d just like to say that it was nice knowing you all because my stomach has been trying out for the Cirque Du Soleil all fucking morning and I’m pretty sure it’s the new star attraction come this summer’s touring season. I have heard nothing but the sounds of the Battle for the Lower Intestine raging for the last few hours and they’re so emphatic about winning the victory march to my arse that I’ve put myself into one of the worst panic attacks I’ve suffered in a long time. The soles of my feet are sweating. I didn’t know that was possible. The end is nigh.

10.00am 26/03/2013
Now I am not a leisure pooper. I have never understood the appeal of sitting in a toilet with a good book and marinating in the stench of your own excrements vapours for “fun” or for “time out”. I’m all about efficiency; get in, get it done and get the fuck out while you have a chance of retaining your olfactory senses. This time however I found myself quite happily and maniacally laughing to myself while this…movement…occurred.

Now, even though I did say I would post a picture of the aforementioned glitter turd I just can’t. I found myself having a rather heated debate, at times out loud, about this and found that even I have my limits. I was as surprised as you but at the end of the day the lighting was wrong and I couldn’t fix it. So you’ll have to make do *giggles*, YES I’M MENTALLY 12, with me telling you that it was like passing a hedgehog who’d found itself facing the wrong way of a one way street during the Drag Queen parade at Mardi Gras. The poor little guy didn’t stand a chance.

I’m also pretty sure that this won’t be the last of this debacle because the sparkle to poop ratio was well under what I put in the top of me so I think I’m going to be shitting holographic sparkle poops for days.

Help me Imo-Dium Kenobi; you’re my only hope…

Monday, 25 March 2013

Definitely not the Sparkle Olympics

So to carry on the below post from Charlie I’d like to confirm and clarify a few things in anticipation for tomorrows opening ceremony of the Sparkle Olympics…wait, no, that sounds like some sort of horrendous stripper games where the kind of events you’d expect to find are “Best projection of ‘dead inside eyes’ across a crowded bar”, “100 yard gash” and “Clearest heels”. The gold medal isn’t in fact a medal, but the redemption of Daddy’s approval and a cash prize to finally pay off that HECS debt. Hmmm I think I’ll work on the name…anyhow, onto the things I’m trying to say.

One – Yes, they are real pills filled with real edible glitter. Well sort of edible glitter anyhow. After closer inspection, seeing how I’d only learned that glitter is made of glass, (yes seriously… fucking glass. I’m pretty sure it was just an accident that it looks incredibly pretty in the sunlight when some sick bastard was sitting around one day after dropping a glass jug on the ground and thought to himself “You know, the only way the beauty of this moment could be enhanced is by throwing this in a child’s face and sticking it on things they love to eat and hold close to their skin.” What the hell guy?!) soon after agreeing to eat these and, crazy me, I insisted on finding out what the fuck edible glitter is made from before shoving in my face hole. Turns out, it’s not technically edible. It’s not digestible therefore not able to be classified as a food but it’s non-toxic (huzzah!) so it shouldn’t kill me.

Also, we’re choosing to see it not being digestible as only being a positive because, well, that means that it won’t dissolve in my stomach and therefore the chance for sparkly poops can only be directly proportionate to the amount of these things I ingest. Clearly that’s right because I used science and math terms. You can’t argue with science and maths.

And glass apparently, at least according to that one guy anyhow.

Two – I am in fact going to document my experience from ingestion to the fabulous conclusion. There will probably be photos. I say “probably” because unless anyone can get to me fast enough to stop me, I will post them.


Three – I’ve made Charlie my emergency contact for this so in the event that something does go catastrophically wrong, she will still be able to upload and document the events that unfold or explode. Probably explode. Actually I’m 90% sure that something is going to go wrong with this but I personally feel that if the only good thing that comes of this endeavour is that I manage to make the evening of the emergency staff at one of our hospitals, then it’s a night well spent. Those guys work hard they need some zazz in their life. No one can say I’m not a team player now.

So with that all said and cleared up I will shortly bring to you, my lovely fellow maniacs, the story of sparkly poops.

Thursday, 21 March 2013

She may die of massive internal rainbows.

The following is a conversation that may very well take place in the not-too-distant future...

"...hello, 000? I need an ambulance at *address suppressed*"
"What is the nature of your emergency?"
"It's SHINY! Please hurry!"

twenty minutes later...

Charlie Blowfly: Thank god you're here! I didn't know what else to do!
Facey McBones: *lies groaning on the couch like a cow in labour*
Ambo: What’s happened?
Charlie Blowfly: Ummm...
Ambo: OK let’s get her stabilised first. Has she taken any drugs?
Facey McBones: *giggles and groans again*
Charlie Blowfly: Define “drugs”.
Ambo: If I’m going to help her I need to know what she’s taken.
Charlie Blowfly: OK, OK... this. *holds out container*

Ambo: *reads the label* You know this isn’t a legitimate prescription.
Charlie Blowfly: I know!
Facey McBones:  *screws up her face in a hideous pained grin as the unmistakable sound of a fabric-ripping fart fills the room, accompanied by a strange tinkling noise*
Ambo: *looking around confused* Are there... bells around here? Maybe a windchime?
Charlie Blowfly:  *resignedly* No, that was her. It’s been happening for a couple of hours now.
*Facey McBones lies giggling on the couch, tears running down her cheeks*
Ambo: Why is she laughing?
Charlie Blowfly:  She’s hysterical. She needs help!

Ambo: *opens the bottle* ...Oh. Oh my.
Charlie Blowfly:  ... yeah... yeah.
Ambo: ... Why?
Charlie Blowfly:  It was meant to be a gift!
Ambo: A gift?
Charlie Blowfly:  She always wanted everything about her to be fabulous... 
Ambo: and so...

*Another earth-shattering yet oddly musical fart sound fills the room*

Facey McBones: ...I think I just fabuloused my pants...

Wednesday, 13 March 2013

Scumbag Facey

So apparently I’m a total scumbag…at least tired me is anyway. Well ok, more than usual I mean. Ok fine, tired me is, on average, a bigger scumbag than the waking and functional Facey and likes to fuck with her own head because she’s clearly not right.


Well probably not better but at least more accurate, because that’s what we’re all about here, accuracy…



Last night I got home later than I usually would after celebrating a friend’s birthday with Brinner. Yes, breakfast for dinner, it was glorious. Upon my return home I was pretty much doing the zombie shuffle around the house getting ready for bed on autopilot, or so I thought. What I was actually doing was setting up all of the items on my bedside table that have any form of writing on them, to be upside down. Books, pens, packets and phones ALL set up so that when I woke up this morning and looked at the table my first and immediate thought was “OH MY GOD I’VE FORGOTTEN HOW TO READ!!”. Knowing very well I'd then proceeded to pick up the closest book, which was still upside down, to try and prove to myself that this wasn’t the case at all and also knowing all too well that the book would still be upside down and this would result in me freaking out entirely until I was fully awake and realised that I’m not completely illiterate just incredibly stupid.

I’m an arsehole.

So there that is. Now you all know. I’m part sadistic arsehole; part special needs person who really shouldn’t be allowed out of the padded room without suitable head protection because I’m too trusting and easily fooled.

This post wasn’t really written with the intention of providing a Lol-a-palooza; it was more just a “this is what you get” thing.

Perhaps it was more a warning.

Definitely a warning.

The following is a reenactment of a conversation that nobody should ever have...

Charlie Blowfly:
On wow if you wanna join for a lil bit

Thanks but I'm seriously constipated and actually sitting on the toilet trying to let stuff happen. It's not. So I'm pretending to do something else like FB. I'm going to bed in a mo.

Charlie Blowfly:
Do the pooping stretches!
Makes your tummy muscles move about.
It’s disturbingly like the YMCA now that I come to think about it

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't tried.

Charlie Blowfly:
And lift your feet off the floor

Yep. Tried that too.

Charlie Blowfly:
Tried sticking a hose up your butt?

And drinking more water but now I just feel bloated as well.
LOL. So not happening.
I drank a Dare today too. It's all going to come at once isn't it?

Charlie Blowfly:
Don’t knock it til you've tried it. Colonic irrigation is amazoring
On the plus side - you were planning on repainting your bathroom right? 
...just maybe not knocking out a wall 

Let it pour I say!
The knocking out of a wall may hessian all on its own.
Happen ffs
Oh god I think something moved!

Charlie Blowfly:
Bounce up and down!!

I love that tog can talk me through a poo baby.

Charlie Blowfly:
I'm apparently named Tog now too. That’s less awesome. I sound like a caveman
*pokes you with a stick* You make big poopy now.

Was supposed to be you LOL
Oh the pike must have done it.
Poke what the Fucking Fuck
Apparently there area fish now.
Ok that's it. Auto spell, you're a homo.

Charlie Blowfly:
Or polearms
Which might be more effective
They’d scare the shit outta me LOL

I know right?!

Charlie Blowfly:
Gah I just got killed coz I’m talking you through a poop
LOL how do I explain THAT to my party? 

Sorry. I'm done now. Go back to your game. Tell them a friend thought she was in labour.

Charlie Blowfly:
Did everything... come out alright in the end? 

Yeah. My poo is racist.

Charlie Blowfly:
How so

It's Black

Charlie Blowfly:
How is that racist?
Is it because your bum is white?

I'm white and it wouldn't leave when I told it to.

Charlie Blowfly:
That’s just being a bad tenant. Talk to department of housing they've got lots of experience with black tenants not leaving when told
... damnit now *I'm* racist.

Don't ask me to be all logical and stuff this time of night. I just gave birth for fucks sake.

Saturday, 9 March 2013

A true test of friendship

And this, people, is how you know you've got friends for life...

Charlie: If you were a dinosaur would you take me for rides on your back and help me smite my enemies or would you just eat me?

Me: Does it have to be one or the other? I'm not about limiting myself generally.

Charlie: Mostly I just don't wanna get eaten

Me: Fair enough.

*I*, answering as me the human, says I'd totally be your dino-man. I'd let you saddle me (oh this is going to end well, conversationally) and give you rides and I'd be all about acting as the smiting hand of Charlie, with extra teeth. The only problem I'm seeing that we could encounter is that me, as dino-brain me, would start with the best intentions to offer the aforementioned rides and smiting but then get to my dino-body and go "Oh hey, there's ChAARRlIEEee. ShEE neeEEEds a rrRRiddDeeeE. WhAt's hAPPening to my VOICE and why DoES ShE LooOOk so DAMN DELICIOUS?! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW" *om nom nom* 

Can't promise that won't happen but I can promise you that if I retain my human cognitive capabilities I won't let the beast consume me and eat you in the process :)

Charlie:... seems reasonable. I'll do my very best to look unappetizing and keep you well-fed with tasty people.

Me: That's a pretty good deal as far as I'm concerned because I think we both know that I'm going to struggle pulling chicks once I get to be a dinosaur. That and I'm not going to be able to get them in my mouth all that easy. Small arms and such.

Charlie: Maybe I could rig up some sort of around-the-neck hanging trough. A feed hopper full of hipsters.

Me: Oh my god yes!

Charlie: I'll even take their white belts and lenseless glasses off so they don't get caught in your Dino teeth. Because that's how good a friend I am. I care. You shouldn't eat people who care that much. Just saying.

Me: Oh bless, that's so sweet. You know how those glasses give me my indigestion and their belts just get right between my teeth. No, I think you're safe.

Charlie: YIPPEE!!

I totally want to make you special dino people-eating mittens now. 

Me: I think we just should go with the robo-claw extenders like that "unstoppable" picture. It's like the dino version of chopsticks really.

Saturday, 2 March 2013

Sometimes we share too much...

Charlie Blowfly
Meeting’s rescheduled to Friday. Just in case you want to eat some expired food on Thursday night. ;) 

Facey McBones
LOL well that’s shocking news that she’s done that. 

Five minutes later
Charlie Blowfly
Also – not that you need to know that but you’re going to – got the nuclear shits something wicked and every time I go to the bathroom the Boss *glares* at me. Wtf man. 

Facey McBones
Lol, eww. If she keeps staring just ask if there’s something wrong and when she asks why you keep leaving tell her. In gross detail. 

Charlie Blowfly
Also I’m sorta trapped here in the loo, (yes I’m talking to you while pooping I hope you feel special) because every time I think I’m done my body goes “NOT SO FAST BWAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAA” 

fifteen minutes later
Charlie Blowfly
... And I’m back in the bathroom committing a travesty. This is fun. Too scared to even fart at my desk. ... If the dangerous chemical alarms go off I won’t be a bit surprised. :D 

Facey McBones

Nine minutes later
Charlie Blowfly
Seriously I may actually need to go home after I’ve done my work, this is baaaad. Like cold sweats and shakes bad. This is my 5th trip to the bathroom since I’ve been here and it’s only quarter to ten. 

Facey McBones
Eeeep that’s not good. What did you eat? 

Charlie Blowfly
...Gee I wish these bathrooms were soundproof. 

Facey McBones
Mind you, something is going around. J had the killer shits recently, she shit like 11 times during work the other day. 

Charlie Blowfly
Yeah I was going to say it doesn’t feel like food poisoning, because I generally get nauseous with that. 

12 minutes later
Charlie Blowfly


Facey McBones

Charlie Blowfly
Man I’m losing the power of my legs here! ... but my arse has gone to sleep entirely and that can only be a good thing. 

Facey McBones
Thank God for small mercies. 

Charlie Blowfly
Just wasted my money on breakfast. The spewing has arrived. 

Facey McBones
Oh good :/ 

Ten minutes later
Charlie Blowfly
Round 6. Toilet’s winning on points. 

Facey McBones
LOL. I’m gunna try get some sleeps in chick. Hope the bum stops soon. 

Charlie Blowfly
OK sleep well. I’ll stop the bum sitreps. 
... I’ll Twitter them instead. :D

There's something slightly wrong (very wrong) about the fact that neither of us actually saw anything wrong with this conversation...