When chocolate doesn't count as chocolate...

Recently, my friends and I have gone on a bit of a chocolate binge. It's not been a conscious descision, people just...sell chocolate near us, and so we buy it, in extremely large quantities. However, sometimes it's a bit hard to justify the copious amounts of chocolate being consumed - we can't just accept the fact that chocolate now makes up a huge percentage of "Food Consumed During the Day", and feel as though we have to reason with ourselves. Thus, after much collaborative deliberation, we bring you a short selection of:


When Chocolate Isn't Chocolate...(Numbers 1-35)
(A Sara and Friends List)

1. White chocolate - because it's not really chocolate
2. Chocolate purchased for charity
3. Chocolate as an ingredient in other foods
4. Chocolate as an ingredient in other drinks
5. Chocolate when there's no other food available
6. "I feel bad about eating so much chocolate, so now I must comfort-eat chocolate to cover up my feelings"
7. "I'm about to study for four hours straight" chocolate
8. "I've been doing really well on my diet" chocolate
9. Any chocolate smaller than a freddo frog
10. Chocolate fondue
11. Chocolates in which more than 50% is made up of fillings (e.g turkish delight, caramel)
12. Chocolate as an act of rebellion (You know, like when you aren't supposed to eat in somewhere, like a lab, or a library, and in order to feel badass you eat...chocolate)
13. Dark chocolate because it's "healthy"
14. Birthday chocolate
15. Chocolate as a party snack food
16. Jellly lollies dipped in chocolate
17. ...anything else dipped in chocolate
18. ...chocolate dipped in anything (I'm thinking M&Ms)
19. S'mores
20. Chocolate powder
21. "I've just eaten an entire celery so this chocolate doesn't have any calories" chocolate
22. "If I eat it while I'm working out/taking a casual stroll, I'm working off the calories as I go" chocolate
23. Thinking chocolate (chocolate consumed while in the act of thinking)
24. Chocolate spread
25. Any form of pastry containing chocolate
26. Fancy chocolate that you have to either go to a special cafe to buy, or comes in a ridiculously fancy box, or costs you (or someone else) a ridiculous amount of money
27. Procrastination chocolate
28. "I don't want my friend eating chocolate to feel bad about eating chocolate" chocolate
29. Chocolate that you steal from people
30. Chocolate containing nuts (nuts are healthy, therefore chocolate is healthy)
31. Taste test chocolate
32. Sample chocolate (there are many cheapskates amongst my friends) (Including myself)
33. "There's a new chocolate on the market, I must try it immediately" chocolate
34. Chocolate someone else has bought you that you can't NOT eat
35. "I have no place else to put this chocolate and therefore I must put it in my stomach" chocolate

Things I've Learnt From Hairdressing

It's not my life dream to be a hairdresser. I don't particularly even enjoy it. I like to think I have other options. However, I do live an extremely lavish lifestyle that I need to support, so I work a few jobs, one of them being a Saturday job at a small hairdressing salon. I've had no formal training (no informal training either really - half an hour or "Okay, wash this woman's hair" "Blow dry her hair straight" "Mix up these tints for me" and "Clean those brushes now, okay?"), but hey, the money's good, and it doesn't require too much thought. Turns out, though, there's a lot that I've learnt from my short experience of working there (three weeks, to be precise).

• Natural haircolour is a myth
• Old people are extremely nosy
• Eldery lady hair has a very particular, distinct smell which, at the moment, is the same smell as my hands. It smells kind of carpet-y when wet. Things you didn't need to know.
• How to make the best goddamn instant coffee on the street. (Yes, you did detect sarcasm, well done)
• And I quote: "There's nothing better than swimming naked, though." I also learnt about this woman's naked swimming experience. You thought you knew awkward? You didn't.
• a) Coffee Toffee is freaking disgusting and b) it is very difficult to discreetly spit something out in a supposedly hygenic environment
• "Squeaky clean" isn't just a phrase - when hair's actually, properly clean, it's squeaks. It's extremely odd.
• The details of one woman's life. And the life of her daughter. And the life of her granddaughter. And her grandson. And how he wants to be a carpenter. And all of the things that has has recently made with wood. And the details of his academic life. And...oh, it goes on, it does.
• Hairdressers tend to repeat the same stories over and over and over again. With slightly different names and dates. And they also enjoy talking about their iPads. Or is that just in my situation?
• The first song I knew on the Easy Listening AM station was the "Live the Lotto life" jingle
• The guy in the ad about the Clive Peters store closing down sounds extremely dejected. It's an extremely depressing change from the old annoyingly chirpy jingle.
• For a station geared towards the elderly, there are an awful lot of ads for funeral homes.

Departing from the normal format of my blog posts, I know, but that was my post-work way of winding down. I know no one cares but then again, no one cares about any of the things I do, and I continue doing them anyway.

My hands feel like a sixty year old's and my shirt is covering with bleach, and yet I continue to plate myself up to you (yes, all two of you) (yes, one of those two being you, Mum), because I'm dedicated and have a four-step plan to internet domination.

File under "Cry, things that make me"

Caution: I promise that other than things like this, I am quite a well-rounded, likeable person. Ha ha ha.

I probably don't come off as an excessively emotional person. You're probably largely off base. While in day to day life I tend to...overuse humour in the place of getting all emotional...(although humour should be in inverted commas because humorous it may or may not be), I'm going to make a confession here - I'm a ridiculously unstable person, which means I go through ridiculously unstable emotions and phases where I am, basically, a giant cry baby. My mental stability is almost as questionable as, you know, my social life, etc. It's pretty inexplicable but hit a raw nerve when I'm having a bad day and I'll well up, and then get really angry to mask that. I'm good with the sudden bouts of inexplicable anger.

But apart from that, crying is something that is reserved for the home, and it turns out, the movie theatre. When it comes to movies, it turns out I am essentially a giant marshmallow, with the added bonus that the marshmallow isn't just a softie but also prone to bouts of uncontrollable tears. I don't like it, but I tell it as it is. So, because you love me (oh come on, don't be afraid to admit it, the internet is a relatively safe forum when it comes to the heartfelt expressions of our undying love etc), I take it you want to know which movies/television shows/music/etc transform me from a moderately stable, often happy person into a quivering wreck, right? Well you're lucky, because that's what you're going to find out.

Movies: Don't lie. You've watched Marley & Me, you used to own a dog, and you were watching the end bit and in tears, right? Doesn't that sum up pretty much everyone who watched that movie? I've read the book too, but books don't tend to make me go soft - I need the visual attached to the story. But yes, I'm going to come right out and tell you that when I first went to see that movie with three good friends, three of the four of us were blubbering by the end (Note: the one guy not crying, the most likely to cry in any other movie - trust me, has not and has never owned a pet). I watched it again the next year by myself in an English hotel room and yet again, I teared up. Sue me. But it isn't just overly depressing movies about dogs (SPOILER! SPOILER! For the people who have a go at me when I disclose even the tiniest little plot point) getting put down that get me bawling - oh no, there are more.

Have you seen Freedom Writers? Every time I watch that movie, regardless of how much I prepare it for mentally and how little attention I pay to the beginning of the movie, as soon as you reach the middle section with Marcus and Miep Gies and they do the whole Anne Frank scene, I am invariably sitting and crying my eyes at, and trying to work out if everyone else watching with me is as well. What can I say? I'm Jewish, it hits a nerve? To be honest, I'm not sure, but when I first watched it with a hundred other people, I don't think there were many dry eyes.

Of course, when I was younger, I cried at everything. Some movie called Spirit about a horse? I remember crying in that even though to this day I have no idea what exactly the plot was. Turns out, though, that wasn't the only animated movie that could set me off. Just recently, I was bawling like a newborn in Toy Story 3. The cinema - three of us girls who've actually become invested in the characters over the two prior movies; several harried mothers attempting to chain their children to the comfy leather seats (my friends and I are big ole' spenders) and several schools of kindegartners (one of whom, I have to let you know, was wearing a trucker cap, oversized Man United jersey and big ass silver chains - the original six year old gangster?). When it got to the garbage dump, or Andy saying goodbye to Woody, us three were pratically on the floor crying, and all the little kids were laughing and throwing popcorn. Age gap, it's evident.

Music: I go through phases where different things make me cry, because I'm an unpredictable wreck. Music is particularly topsy turvy - when especially emotional periods of my life are around, I'll cry at anything. Judge me all you like (or don't, please don't), but after my grandfather died I couldn't listen to the Charlie Chaplin version of Smile as done by the cast of Glee without bursting out into tears - clearly the song did not achieve its goal. Other songs that have made this elite list include Superman by Five For Fighting, Together We'll Ring In The New Year by Motion City Soundtrack, Caught In The Crowd by Kate Miller-Heidke, You and Me by Lifehouse...Can you tell that I'm probably in need of some form of medication? I'm joking. That was a joke.
This is why I've not gone into comedy.

Television shows: So far you've gathered that I'm massively overemotional in select situations, and television shows are no different - you sit me down with a finale of a show that I have loved for years, or a character that I've become really attached to dying, or any given episode of Cold Case that has to do with the death of a child, and BAM, I'm in that same state. Did I cry in the Scrubs finale? Maybe - mind you, not the Med School series, because that was ... a whole different animal. This is why I avoid most hospital shows - too many characters I like would die (I watch ER sometimes and I really shouldn't), or shows where people dying is an everyday event. Really, it's quite alarming that I got into Lost, considering the amount of death that show carries with it.

Now I'm finished this post.
Oh...I'm going to cry.

I'm JOKING YOU WEIRDOS.

The Bachelor: London Calling 29/6 - I do watch this crap, still

So, you know how my blog posts are either hilarious, or about crap TV shows, and are always ridiculously long? Yeah, this is one of those ones about a crap TV show, which just so happens to be The Bachelor. No one else appreciates my general thoughts, so I just post them where no one will ever need to read them again. The show aired last Tuesday, and I'm a little bit late to the viewing party, which is interrupting my general work flow - there's another episode tonight on Go! if them crazy bitches are your kind of thing. Still, Operation Bachelor: London Calling is a go.

Previously, lots of things happened. Chis takes pleasure in outlining this all for us. I did kind of miss last week, which involved a premiere, rugby, massages, and Robin - the classical pianist - is not liked by many. Anyway, Chris goes on to pre-cap the entire episode, just in case we don't really want to watch it or, like me, just watch it for the hilarity. Apparently Stoner - Shayne - is still in the running, which is pretty amazing.  Kelly, Chelsey, Stoner, Ashley, Noelle and Robin are going on a "date" (if you can call them that), which is in search for a "perfect match", which is some terrible tennis pun, and also there are tea cups.

Matt's wearing his gangster tracksuit to battle it out with a bunch of girls who cannot play tennis, excluding Singer-Songwriter Ashleigh/Ashley, and Kelly, and Chelsey, which Stoner is not happy about. Matt has gone all crazy about Chelsey/Chelsea, and is gaping, and Stoner is an ex-Gymnast (PICKED IT!). Ashley/Ashleigh/Ashlee's name appears to actually be the latest one. She's not completely...all there, in the head, and Matt had to explain "taking it in her stride" to her, which is not attractive (although we all know guys love a good bimbo). And now she's singing, of course, as they do, and now they're making out. Seriously, I look older than that girl. Unsurprisingly, all of the girls hate her. Ad break.

Post tennis match, it's tea time. They're all pretending to be English, and all the guys are shooting hate laser beams at the classical pianist Robin. Kelly, fifty year old smoker voice, is displeased. Chelsea (who is that?) considers Robin the most competitive. Matt loves spending time with her, and if I could wink over the internet, I would wink right now. Robin feels blessed. Yawn. Over at Girl Camp, Stoner is getting her bitch claws out, and she says that she "honestly just told Robin honest truth" because no one else has had a turn at private time. Must say, I side with Classical Pianist, it's not their choice who gets alone time. Robin is crying, Kelly doesn't buy it, and now Stoner is awkward backtracking and then WHOA suddenly we're back at the mansion.

Marshanna is displeased that she did not get the one on one. Marshanna feels like she's the underdog, and needs to pack, and Amanda's got the one on one date. Blah. All of the girls make Matt feel privelliged, but "NONE OF YA'LL BITCHES AS MUCH AS CHELSEA". Ashlee is all "does what we have mean NOTHING?" because I'm pretty sure there are too many hormones flying around this house. Ad break. That's okay, I'm tired.

The soundtrack to this show is terrible. Amanda is getting ready for the one-on-one date, and she's going vixen. Some girl whose name I do not know calls her a raging slut, which is exactly the look she's going for. Creepy, pervy Matt is creepy and pervy. Apparently this is a 1950's date, in which they will be very romantic and go to a diner. Amanda: "I felt like I was stepping back in time to a time I wasn't even alive in". Amanda is apprently the all American girl, beautiful and smart etc. Matt says there's a geeky side to her, and if that qualifies as geeky, then what am I? Matt is a terrible dancer, apparently. Well, the show isn't called The Bachelor: Dancing King. Holly and Marshana are going to be cooking on this date. Marshana has serious anger issues. DITCH HER, DITCH HER, DITCH HER. Her rationalising is "Pick me, pick me, pick me, see how beautiful I am...blah...I really think we have something...blah". Back in the 50's, Amanda is getting some shpeel, with a side of a rose. And now they're going to the pier, where rollercoasters and Ferris Wheels are abundant, and then they make out at the top of the Ferris Wheel. Ad break.

GIrl whose name I keep forgetting appears to be Holly, Children's Book Author, and she and Marshana are off to their tension-SMASH date. People on this show are so overdramatic. Marshana and Holly are having an "I am willing to move away from the States" competition. They're basically competing for whose more willing to leave their home. Marshana and Matt are having some 'alone time' *wink*, and Holly is perving over. Marshana and Matt make out, but he's just stringing her along. Holly and Matt are on the bed, and Matt's blabbering on about his boring side where he "wants to know what's going on in the Middle East, and what's resilient in the financial market and stuff"...so, basically, I'm boring. Holly and Matt are alone in a room and yet they're whispering and Holly's idea of boring is "watching movies". Whatever. At the house, the girls are speculating, and Stoner is SURE that Holly is coming home, and won't hear a word otherwise. Anyway, on the date, hi-fives, Marshana got the rose. Despite her obvious emotional issues, I strongly dislike Holly at the moment.

HOW DO I STILL HAVE HALF AN HOUR LEFT? Stoner is displeased by the outcome of the date. And....ad break.

Over at the mansion, prior to the rose ceremony, the girls are all dressed up and straightened and tanned within an inch of their lives or whatever that phrase is. Ashlee appears to be wearing an excessively slutty dress, and Matt is asking her the tough questions, about how their connection is physical and musical but what can she do outside of that. Ashlee is attempting a metaphor, and failing dramatically. Ohai, Noelle, where have you been? Matt's all up for the tough questions tonight. Noelle is trying to communicate that her feelings are REAL and RAW and more. Kelly, on her one on one time, but her body language is terrible (she's wearing a markedly slutty dress). Apparently he sees her as less of a fun person with him, and then she just tore her shirt open (WHAT? WHY?) and hit her head on a table. IS SHE EVER NOT DRUNK? Now, he's trying to pin down Stoner (Shanye, if you forgot). Shayne wants him to send everyone else home, and tries to convince him that she's into him and what why I don't even why did that inspire a make out session? Matt no longer wants to be sombre. Whatever. Hiccup girl just hiccupped, and someone was excessively rude and said "Stop it". I am offended by that string of events.

Time to give out roses to various women. Chelsea, Amanda and Marshana are covered by their pre-purchased roses, but the others are all competing. Stoner is administering her best "I'm famous" pose. I reckon stripper Kelly is gone. Stoner gets the first rose. Robin, tea-drinker and classical pianist, gets the second. Oh, hi Phil, "This is the final rose tonight". Oh, shut up Phil, we know. Noelle gets the next rose (I like her, she seems genuine), and Sparkly bra Kelly and Singer/Songwriter Ashlee are gone. Ashlee is an emotional wreck and I am genuinely worried she'll pass out.

I need to switch this off now, I can feel myself losing brain cells.

A rant in which I defend Canberra

I am going to admit straight off that within the people I know, Canberra is seen as a bit of a hole. Essentially, us proud, sheltered (that one refers specifically to us) Sydneysiders have our beaches and our multiple shopping centres and more people than you can poke a stick at, and we tend to look down on Canberra. After all, the ACT is essentially an island in the middle of New South Wales as far as we're concerned. We all think we're better off, and more privelleged than if we lived in Canberra, or one of the surrounding little towns. But having just returned from Canberra, I'd actually like to say a few words in its defence.

Though we've been brought up on a diet of looking down on tiny little Canberra, I actually quite like it there. I've been there so many times now that when my family drives around I can point at nearly every hotel and recall the time I stayed there. I like a lot of things about Canberra, and I'll list them in my little rant, which is kind of going to be a rave, in retrospect. It just frustrates me. If there's anyone from Canberra reading this, are you as bitchy about us as we are about you? Because I'd hate to think that we give that bad of an expression.

But before I get into my minor little love affair with Canberra, I'd like to point out that I am and will probably always be a big city girl. I might not live right in a CBD, but I love the constant exposure to different people and loud noises and interesting sights and catching busy trains and eating out and going to shops with giant groups of people and dominating entire movie theatres etc. If I'm not in a city environment for a very long period of time, you have to give me a beach, at the very least, so I can occupy myself with the sun and the surf and a trashy book. I spend my summers on the beach, but that's about as relaxed as you get with me. And while I love and appreciate a short little weekend in the country, if I was to move there, I'd be kicking down the walls. My grandparents used to take me to a little country town every summer, and if I lived in a town like that for more than a week, I would be bored out of my mind. 

That being said, by rights, Canberra is a city. Sure, there's no beach, which is kind of sad - I am ridiculously spoilt when it comes to where I live - but when you're actually in the city (which takes up quite a large amount of the state), Canberra's actually quite excellent. I know that probably sounds quite derrogatory, but I mean it in the best possible way. I love that if you're staying near the city centre, you're spoilt for choice when it comes to nice little restaurants. Where I stayed, I could walk to several all-night supermarkets, a Korean BBQ restaurant, a shopping centre, a Baskin & Robbins, a gym, an Irish pub, an Oportos (score)...ideal.

You know what else I absolutely loved? Despite this probably occuring in most cities, there was a place within walking distance where you could shop for shoes (ridiculously heeled, glittery, buckled up shoes, alongside Converse and Skechers, and green flats which have thousands of tiny swear words covering them) whilst getting your newest body piercing (you're spoilt for choice here too). I loved that you can drive to the snow in a couple of hours, that the staff at the national park were extremely friendly, that when you need desperately to kill time you can drive around the embassies, that the woman behind the counter of a place I was buying presents at had a discussion with me about Rocky Road...I love a lot of things about it. Sometimes small isn't automatically bad.

Sure, the Sydney CBD may or may not be the size of pretty much the entirety of Canberra, but there are things about that place that are just great, despite the negative hype. Okay, the road names aren't very original, and the consistensy of signage in the area is ridiculous (Michelago? Micelago? I don't know what's right and what's wrong, but c'mon guys, spellcheck!), and the sign for speeding on the way into the city reads "Drive N Text, U B Next"...but don't judge a city that can't do anything to shake off that reputation. It's actually not that bad.

One reason I can't live in Queensland

Caution: Yet another rant, and there's probably going to be some foul language. You know, if you're into that kind of thing.

Oh, shit. I'm sure you've heard of this by now (I'm extremely slow when it comes to venting my annoyance at news articles, have you noticed?), but apparently in Queensland as of the 18th of June or so, swearing is a big problem. So to cut down they've introduced a new ban, and along with it a fine - if you get caught swearing in public in Queensland, you could get slapped with a $100 to $300 fine on the spot. What? Swearing is...the Australian way, sometimes! Let's hope no one goes to a football game, or the outside of a school where frustrated parents hang out. Stay away from shops, plenty of swearing there, and definitely keep your heads out of pubs. Schoolies week? Hell no. I know a three year old child whose favourite movie is The Hangover (yeah, I know). If that kid grows up and moves to Queensland, he's in trouble. Well, allow me to tell you that my Summer holiday has now been cancelled. Me and my foul mouthed friends are going to stay well away.

Even though I really have no desires to go to Queensland - I've been heaps of times in the past, it's beautiful, nice beaches and all, good shopping, etc, etc - I actually take this matter quite close to heart, for a few reasons. My most major beef with it is that swearing is looked at as "inappropriate behaviour" in public. Silly politicians and police folk. I don't swear because I'm drunk, have a crap vocabularly or am too lazy to think of better ways to phrase things. I swear as a means of self-expression. I'll swear when I'm frustrated, but don't we all? I'll swear when my football team are doing rubbish, I'll swear with my friends at an extremely high rate because that's just what we do. I don't think my behaviour is inappropriate - I actually think my behaviour is quite reasonable, and like almost every other person I know. I understand the whole desire to rationalize this, but how do police justify dealing out a fine to someone like me when there are fifteen other people within a ten metre radius that swear equally as much in public as I do.

What even constitutes as swearing, nowadays? Do police officers have a checklist of offensive language that they can fine people for? Because I call things and people "bitches" all the time, but I think it's become such a common part of the usage of the English language that we've all been desensitized. "Bitch" doesn't register on my list of offensive words. And if you say, for instance, "fuck", can you get fined if you're using it in context? Is it still considered offensive? I say it a hell of a lot, to the point where it's just not a swear word in my dictionary (well, it is, but I'm very liberal with my use of swearing). Or are they going all old school with us? If I go to Queensland and tell someone to "piss off", am I going to cop a fine or just some nasty glares? If I refer to something as "shit", or use my current favourite word, "shitstorm", is that going to land me in court?

What I think they need to do is publish a list of words that count as offensive, and when they fine someone, they need to make it very clear what exactly they said wrong. This isn't because I swear so much that I would be confused as to why I'm being fined, but more because I've become so desensitized to some words that I honestly would not know I was swearing. I'd still probably not have figured out, even after the fine. That's just the culture I live in.

Look, I understand that it's not always pleasant to walk around and hear people swearing. I know I should be keeping my language cleaner, and using less offensive slang terms. I know I should probably indulge in actually using my vocabulary in conversations, but by force of habit, I can't. I swear, shoot me. A fine won't stop swearing, it will increase the dangerous appeal of swearing that has vanished along with our desensitization, and it'll making swearing something the cool kids do - you swear in public and get away with it? You legend! Or maybe we should all just do what my friend Liora has been doing for years, and go on a non-swearing kick (the girl says "fridge" and "fudge" so much that it just breaks my heart), and move to sunny Queensland, while everyone else moves down to the cool states that aren't opposed to your average language every once in a while.

Oh, fuck it. No way am I doing that.

A rant about tweeting, Masterchef and the Courier-Mail

I'm really fired up tonight. I'm usually quite fired up, but I'm even more so than usual tonight (see, if you follow me on Twitter, you know this). As you all know, I'm an avid Masterchef tweeter. I'm snarky, there are people I would prefer stayed clear of my television (yeah, I said it). If you haven't already read it, I'd like to alert you to THIS. While it's an interesting read, thank you Karen Brooks, I've got to say, I take it personally.

I tweet without thinking. I bitch about peoples' appearances, about their cooking, their relationships, their sad attempts at "wit", their tendency to overwear ridiculous pink shirts/hideous beanies/far too much makeup etc. Sure, I can come across as nasty if you judged me off that alone, but amongst the people I write with, we all know that it's in good humour. If we've hurt feelings, I'd like to be notified. I'm more than willing to swallow my pride and apologise, but like hell will I censor what I'm writing because one particular person thinks I'm being "vicious" and "spiteful" and "exposing lashes of sexism, racism, size-ism, ageism and homophobia".

I happen to find the Masterchef feed on Twitter hilarious. Whoa, don't shoot me. I can't speak for the entire Masterchef-tweeting population, but please find me one instance of any one of those ism-s or phobias in one of my tweets that isn't in a joking manner. Sexism? Are you kidding? Racism, maybe in jest on the odd occasion, but I rarely refer to it. Size-ism? Never. Ageism? Are you high? Homophobia? Hell no! I tweet jokingly about gay relationships, but hell, I'm all for it. Don't go calling me homophobic. I'm a mad supporter of rights, gay, womens', everything. I might be vicious on the odd occasion, but it's heat of the moment viciousness, and if you want me to issue an apology on behalf of all of the terrible things I say, go ahead. I'll do it.

The article doesn't hesitate to comment on our "foul language" and "comments that have nothing to do with what's on screen". We're people. We judge. You sit at home and watch Masterchef, making witty yet controversial comments in your head, we write them down on a social networking site for the amusement of those who follow us. You want to criticise our language? Oh, because there's no swearing at all on Twitter for the duration of the time that doesn't include Masterchef. God forbid. Are you kidding? HAVE YOU STEPPED OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE IN THE LAST YEAR?

"The fact that these are real people being commented on, and in a public forum that their friends and family never mind children can access, escapes those posting or, worse, they don't care". My friends and family read my tweets. They laugh, they enjoy, they join in. Masterchef viewing has become a ritual in the circles I run in, and we find constant amusement in the next day debriefs. I post my thought the night before, instead of keeping the discussion within my friends the day after. Call me deluded, but I tend to think that people have come to accept, maybe even look forward to my Masterchef craziness. Children can access it? You don't think children say even worse things? I think our crudeness is pretty tame next to a twelve year old boy's idea of humour.

Apparently I'm a "bully and a coward" now, because I hide behind a false identity. Yeah, why don't you say that to my face and see who's a coward? But seriously, I'm not hiding behind a false identity. I keep my details private, but that's for security reasons, not because I'm scared of what people would do to me if they found out about my shocking tweets. And a BULLY? So, Karen Brooks, what about you? You are perfectly content to tell us that we're hurting the feelings of the oh-so-precious Masterchef contestants (who, might I add, signed up for this when they opted to be a part of a reality television show), and yet you're fine to hurt the feelings of, say, me, an emotionally fragile Masterchef tweeter? You've really hurt me, Karen. Don't think you'll be getting a Christmas card this year.

"It could be argued that this is a healthy outlet for what's a loathsome tendency of human nature." Hey, maybe it's good that we have a healthy outlet like this. While I object to that part of my nature being loathsome (again, Karen, why so mean? Couldn't have softened that up a bit?), would you rather we said all our crap and vented our rubbish on a platform like Twitter, or to you, on the street? To the contestant's faces? To each other? I mean, I think that would be fun, but maybe it's me. It's usually just me.

"But it's also an indication of how, when given the right forum and circumstances, the members of humanity won't necessarily defend each other on the contrary, they'll look for the weakest among them and attack in a pack" I really, really hate this. I think it's pretty self-explanatory why. It's derogatory to what I do, and I feel like I'm being compared to some form of predatory bird or something, but still, it's the 'picking on the weakest' idea that gets to me. I see your point, and raise you the fact that I actually pick on the stronger contestants - clearly, if they've got this far. Another thing I'd like to point out is that I admire all the contestants' cooking abilities. I'm jealous, actually, because as a chef, I'm pathetic. I can't heat up a pop tart without getting it stuck in the Toaster. I've admitted on many an occasion that I'm an extremely bitter person, so I think in a backwards way, the contestants should take this into account (are they offended). I'm bitter, twisted, envious and I think they've all done amazingly so far. Wait, I'm going to backtrack. Something in that last statement must have been sexist, racist, homophobic, offensive to minorities, or just plain rude.

Hey! "As one Tweet posted on Monday, when the site was overloaded because of the World Cup, said: ``I hope Twitter never goes down during MasterChef ever again, it was not quite as fun without the commentary of smart-arses the nation over.''" That tweet sure does look familiar. I'm pretty sure someone may have tweeted, that night that Twitter went down, that "Masterchef just wasn't as fun without the snarky @Sarkata or @benpobjie". Are you talking to me? I'm sure people said that a lot, but I'm going to go ahead and take offence. I feel like you're verging into the realms of taking it too far. However, I suppose I'm taking this too far now. I'm sorry. I promise I'm not that bad of a person. I might make ill-judged comments, try too hard to be witty, often make crude and immature comments and references, crack terrible puns and jokes, and occasionally just fade into being an extremely boring person, but I'm okay. I don't bitch too often, and I try to be the sane one when there's drama everywhere around me. I try to do the right thing. I wouldn't have a go at someone unless they had a go at me first. I might be opinionated, but I won't forced you to adopt my opinions - go ahead, have a varying opinion. Tolerance is what we aim for. I'm trying to spread some here. So...are you?

"It's like watching your favourite show with hundreds of other people only, in this case, you're glad most of them aren't in the room with you" On a different note to end this off, that's rubbish. I can imagine that a mass viewing of Masterchef with the rest of the people on the Masterchef twitter feed (those who aren't, of course, rapists, racists, homophobes, etc) would be one extremely hilarious gathering.

I know this has been one hell of a rant, but I was fired up, and I took extreme offence at that article. I didn't read The Courier Mail (which I keep typing as Male, on a random note), but I'm not going to start now. Actually, maybe I will. I want to see other opinions the author has - after all, it was an interesting read. She's probably quite acceptant of other things, I'm sure. I just think that there was a touch of hypocrisy, and I thought it was often unnecessarily snarky about the people who were supposed to be the nasty ones. Anyway, what's the world come to if we can't say things that are even the slightest bit controversial without coming under fire? Particularly on a social networking site, while having a laugh with some people we don't know, but who share the same views as us and who watch the same shows as us.

Update 22/6: And now on The Today Show with Carl and Lisa? You guys all suck, kind of. The kind of was just for politeness. It's REALITY TV. THERE WILL BE CONTESTANTS WE DISLIKE. I disliked Russell on Survivor and no one had a go at me for that. You guys need to be considerate that I am allowed an opinion, the internet will always be used to this, and you obviously don't understand anything mentioned in my above rant. That being said, I'm really offended I wasn't quoted. If you're going to go all out, do it, but quoting a facebook page? Facebook is tame and pedestrian. Sheesh.

Masterchef...if you were watching State of Origin on the 16/6

WARNING: Yet another excessively long post

It's Masterchef time, which sadly (in the case of others) clashes with State Of Origin - sorry if I'm not into witnessing my team fail pathetically. After than convinient recap of the entire game, thank you voiceover man, it's time for a team challenge, on a plane, and Jonathan's one team captain, in yet another pink shirt (a polo shirt this time, improvement?). He's decided to lead blue, and of course the first person he picks is Joanne - douchery will reign supreme.

Blue team: Jonathan, Callum, Adam, Alvin and Claire, Marion
Red team: Joanne, Aaron, Matthew, Adam

I don't want to root for either team, but I'm going to (as much as it kills me) have to go blue - purely because they've got Marion, and her chirpiness isn't annoying yet.. They both have crap leaders. I probably hate the about equally. So the challenge is they have to cook a three course menu for business class passengers on an A380 plane. Ohai Neil Perry! He's big on plane food, he cooks it heaps. He's talking, but it's boring, and advicey. He wants to make sure the presentation is beautiful, and the flavour is great - oh, because all of my plane food is IMMACULATELY prepared. Psht. Also, no knives on planes. Oh hey, they're also getting in the CEO of Qantas. Matt's talking. Matt's too cool for this show. Joanne has opted to wear an annoying scarf. Typical.

Joanne's thinking Asian. Jonathan's not thinking. That happens a lot. They're in the pantry, because they've planned their menus, and dear god, please don't forget ingredients this time. Seafood, on a plane? Okay. Also, Quail. Seriously? Call my unsophisticated, but I would NOT want to be on this flight. Except for those desserts. Gary's making terrible puns. Jonathan wants to change menu ideas, Marion thinks it's too late. Marion should be a team leader. We cut to an ad break, time to madly obsess on Twitter. You know, as I do.

***

Anyway, dusk has fallen. Someone in a red apron is holding pasta. Why do they show us this crap? Marion's explaining the process, and how the meals will be taken away in trolleys to be prepared. But will they be Coles trolleys, that is the question? Oooh, Matthew's making a chocolate macadamia fudge cake. I must eat now. Gary must be the person they employ strictly to make dodgy puns. Joanne's made up face is going to give me nightmares. She looks like an (uglier) porcelain doll. Both teams are making prawn entrees and Quail for mains. That's kind of ridiculous.

OH NO! NO FRESH HERBS ON THE PLANE! Oh wait, I thought something really dramatic had happened. Ha! Gary's expecting perfection, and so he should, because this IS Masterchef. Joanne's stressed. She's always stressed. The blue team appear to be slightly in control, which means they'll lose. Oh, Masterchef. People are slow, the red team have not packed. They kind of need to get this together. FIREBALL. Ad break. Shameless Masterchef tinted advertising begins.

***

More plating up. This is kind of dull. Matthew's cakes have caved in, and he worries that they won't hold up in transport. Whatever, it's chocolate. Chocolate always wins. Glad wrap paid a lot for that quick little shot. Alvin is all "OH MY GOD WE DID IT *SQEEE*" and the entire team breaks out into a mass choreographed number, but not really.

Anyway, it appears to be the next part now, and they are walking towards a massive, "monolithic" plane (thanks, there, Matthew). The itty bitty kitchen is adorable. Marion is disappointed with her dish. WHAT? They don't even have to put up with motion sickness? They serve it to the judges who are SITTING AT A TABLE? That's just made the entire episode kind of...redundant, no?

Gary thinks Marion's entree dish lacks crunch. Neil thinks it looks "claggy and furry" and "for lack of a better word". He should have said "words", and what the fuck is claggy? I think I nitpick too much. Matt thinks it doesn't pop. CEO thinks it's so-so. Neil Perry stays quiet now. That's nice.
Claire's main quail dish looks a bit "naked" as she puts it. Judging panel are not amused. The smell's good though, says CEO. Neil Perry chews thoughtfully. He thinks it smells better than it looks, and is disappointingly presented. Matt agrees. Gary is holding on for dessert with his fingers crossed. Please don't fail, team blue. I really hate Joanne.
I just really like fudge cake. CEO and Matt rave about Matthew's fudge cake, but they haven't even tasted it yet. Neil Perry claims that this might very well be their saviour. Matt is just a littble bit in love with this fudge cake. CEO says something, but I can't hear it over the annoyingness of his accent.

Over in red, now. Their poached prawns entree looks crap, and Joanne totally screwed up on the vegetables, which look completely unappetising. Chefs are picky. They liked the prawns, but they didn't looooove them. Also, Joanne's vegetables are almost as repulsive as her face (obligatory childish Joanne diss).
Teriyaki Quail meal time. Joanne thinks their dish is better than the blue team's. The chefs are excited by the meal. It does look kind of yummy. Neil Perry is in love, and thinks it's "damn delicious". CEO's lips are moving, but I'm not getting anything from it. It all comes down the dessert, says Matt, and continues to state the bleeding obvious.
Callum's dish looks "dodgy as", which is another reason I'm not on Masterchef (again, there's also the "bad at cooking" thing). Apparently these are Quinelles. Neil asked a question and I didn't hear it because my dad responded "BECAUSE THEY'RE WANKERS". Neil is dissatisfied with the presentation, but apparently it tastes nice, says Gary. CEO disagrees. Joanne, Mother, NSW, is happy with what they put up.

Apparently this is pretty close. Hahahahahahahaha. Blue are going to lose, which sucks, because Joanne will be here forever. I swear, we'll never get rid of her. Jonathan, who has changed into his OTHER pink shirt, does not want to face elimination yet again. Adam's dish (teriyaki quail) was the standout, but Joanne's vegetables suck. Joanne has decided to respond to the judges, rudely, because Joanne is RUDE. Callum's presentation was a total letdown. IT'S MASTERCHEF, may I remind you, NOT MASTERPLATEUP.
The dessert kicked ass, but Marion's dish lacked "zing and zip" and was the worst of the day - oh no, Marion! Marion was not happy with that dish, and at least she's being honest. The main dish was all gross and such, but we've heard it all before and I am over this now. Commerical break, of course.

***

Gary notifies us that there can only be one winner (thanks again there, Gary), and of course, it's the red team. Everyone on Twitter smashed their keyboard in frustration. Blue team is up for elimination. Everyone's sad. Everyone hates Joanne, excluding herself. The red team are told to enjoy their lunch, and they leave. Jonathan's ego has taken quite a blow. That was necessary, and beneficial.

Marion cries. If she goes home, 'twould suck. Claire's up for her first elimination, which is nice and fair. Claire's got nothing to go back home to, she tells her little sob story, no one is moved. Tomorrow, someone will go home in a taste test. As per usual, the shorts give the entire show away. Anyhow, better TV is on now. Excuse me.

The Bachelor: London Calling 15/6 - I do watch this crap

I'm about five minutes behind, but I'm going to write about the crazy awful shit that I watch in my spare time. They have decided this show is now America's Next Top Model, with more people whose names I don't know. Sleezy englishman is sleezy, called Matt, and says things like "Go honey". And "Yeah baby". Kind of creepy. Every single girl here pisses me off, except Holly, who moonwalked. MOONWALK? AWESOME. A show can be crap as, as long as you get in a moonwalk. And then some girl called Amanda took her shirt off. And this was a date. And egad, you best believe I'm not going to stop talking. This is also going to be a long ass post.

Matt urges that they "not get dressed" which only cements the fact that he's a massive creep, and up next not only do they "gamble for Matt's heart", but some girl sings, and we have the first major mental breakdown of this season. I feel like I lose about a hundred brain cells every time I even watch this show.

Matt is kinda turned on by the modelling "date", so he takes them up to the penthouse suite. This slow gets sleezier by the minute. Marshana, or someone, has cornered Matt, and is asking him big questions in a "fun" environment, and Matt reveals that he picked her because "she's beautiful" (objectify women, much?) and "the colour of her skin is amazing" and seriously, Matt? And oh dear, someone else wrote a song. Is there a dodgy songwriter every season? Is Michelle the new Wes? CAN I HATE HER VEHEMENTLY NOW? Such subtle lyrics - "I want to touch you, I want you to touch me" - and the other singer in the house is pissed.

Suddenly, the girls are sitting around and a suitcase full of money arrives, so of course they're going to Vegas, and I swear, there's a girl wearing a fur lined jacket around the house. To differentiate herself, other singer/songwriter Ashlee takes Matt aside into the bedroom for a "chat", and all they ever seem to talk about are appearances, are you guys really that shallow? "You've got beautiful lips" *smooch*. Seriously, guys? Second episode in? Geez, sleazy much? And of course, she gets the rose. Obviously, because he thinks she's easy. I mean, how else do you make that kind of decision after knowing someone for a week.

Marshana thinks you should be excited, but humble too. Marshana is the queen of humble, clearly. Erin, who is 25, preaches that Ashlee is a "young 22", and it's inappropriate, and MAN, girls are hypocritical.

Matt is taking the girls to Paris, Las Vegas. Stoned Shayne is looking a lot more awake tonight, but I think she's assuming the role of space-case. I seriously have no idea who half these girls are. Essentially, they're all sitting around gambling and making terrible puns - "I think what I'll really be gambling with is my heart". Robin has never gambled before, so she's stealing him away, and Matt is offended that she's not a gambler. DUDE - Gambling isn't always a metaphor. I'm perfectly ready to take a risk in life, but I too hate gambling. Stoned Shayne lost all of her money, and this leads to her breakdown, clearly.  Kelly (the one who sounds like a fifty year old lifelong smoker) won the gambling battle, and wins a date, and then proceeds to skill an entire glass of champagne. I like her more than you'd guess, but I suspect she's drunk, even though she can "handle her alcohol".

Stoned Shayne is complaining. People on this show have terrible grammar. "There is other girls here". SHUT UP. Not only is Shayne stoned, but also whinging and breaking down because she doesn't feel she's being appreciated. Matt thinks she's having too much trouble, and it's not good. Shayne questions if it's worth it. It's not. Matt thinks Shayne is too attractive for him, but the drama is JUST TOO MUCH. Oh god. Seriously? Next: OH MY GOD THERE'S A FREAKING OPERA SINGER.

"Vegas is amazing, I'm taking all of the girls up to my room". Kelly is off her face. Shayne is stoned. This is ridiculous. I think there should be a rule against letting The Bachelor girls anywhere near alcohol. It's bloody ridiculous. Though I suppose people who can hold their alcohol don't go on a show like the Bachelor. I missed that shit with Chelsea. To be honest, I don't care. Stoned One is annoyed at the other girls for being so "giddy". Robin shows off her classical music skills.

Who's this girl? I actually like her. She makes me laugh. And not for the same reasons as the other crap people on this show. Erin S. The better Erin. The Erin who I don't hate. Matt's giving the rose to Chelsea, who is wearing a pretty shirt. Matt is being all romantic and shit and giving her a rose while sipping his beer. Stoner is offended at the lack of rose, despite the fact that she has acted like a total drama queen the entire episode. Girls are stupid. Stoner just expected him to fall in love with her. She would leave, but she feels for him. I hated her less for that one moment. I hate her again.

At yet another little party. Oh, they lead such hard lives. Matt is talking to Robin, and they appear to be trying to seduce each other. Seduce is a hilarious word. Robin appears to do nothing but kiss Matt. Matt just likes making out. Guy. Nobody likes Robin. Smoker Kelly is displeased, as is Marshana. Marshana's awesome. They're going to dance together, to no music. That whole idea is less romantic to me now. Matt's glad she's here. He wants to kiss her, but too many girls watching. Stoner is sitting inside, sulking. Carri, another annoying blonde, is OPERA SINGER. Matt is pretending to find this attractive. My mother is in hysterics on the couch. Bitchy Erin H has decided to sing for matt, because so is every other freaking person in this house.

Amanda R - Hiccup Girl - is complaining about her chronic hiccup problem. Shut up, embrace the hiccups, I have them too, and I work it. Awesome Erin claims that if she gets out tonight, she's going to make a massive scene and leave with a bang (totally what I would do, if you were wondering). Stoner claims that "emotions are beginning to come out", as opposed to last time when she cried in the bathroom and yelled at Matt about the unfairness of all of this. Matt "fancies the pants off her", and she's an actress - whoa. Stoner wants a rose. Surprise, surprise.

Marshana is giving matt a lap dance. That's...beyond disgusting. Random Blonde Amy is doing a shopping dance, and some girl is teaching him to "crank dat Soulja boi". In comes Chris Harrison, to announce that it's time to deliberate over the rose giving. Hells yes.

Chris recaps the episode even though we've just seen it. Hiccup Girl reacts exactly how I would in this situation, and hiccups. Loudly. I hope these girls all watched this as it aired in the states and locked themselves in their rooms for weeks. Classical Pianist Robin gets the first rose. Moonwalking Holly is next. AWESOME ERIN is next, thank god. Hiccup Girl gets through, and she was soulja boi girl as well, so I kind of love her. Smoker Kelly is next. Pointless tension. Random blonde gets a rose. So does Kristine, random blonde 2. Marshana too, which is totally predictable. Stoner's pissed. Photographer Noelle gets a rose, which is all cool. Chris comes in to pointlessly alert us to the fact that there's one rose remaining, oh really? Thanks for that, Chris. Stoner gets the last rose. No opera singer? Are you freaking kidding me?

Bitchy Erin's all "his loss". Heart-on-sleeve opera singer Carri is sad. "I wanna touch you" Michelle is gone, urging Matt to "seek out the good". She's going to go home to see her cat, to hear her purr again, because she's the love of her life at the moment. Egad, she was a crazy cat lady, good that you got her out now, Matt.But at least Stoner's around. For entertainment value.

...I'm sorry.

Oooh, Chelsea is crazily double jointed. That's awesome.

Why I was in love with Ash Ketchum

I'm going to issue a "TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE, MINDBLOWINGLY BAD PUN" warning at the beginning of this. I am ashamed, and yet also slightly proud.

As you may or may not know, dependent on how brilliant you are, when I was young my first ever "celebrity" crush was Ash Ketchum from Pokemon. "Why the hell is she telling us this now?" you ask, and here is my answer for you, apart from the basic reason that it's my blog and you can't have any input as to what I write. Anyway, I think celebrity crushes reveal a lot about you as a kid - yes, while most of my friends were in love with boy band members or boys from our school, I had a thing for a cartoon character (don't judge me). For a variety of reasons, actually.

I'm going to momentarily step out of my little rant and notify you that I was a severely cracked out child. When my younger sister was born, I was running around outside the hospital room dressed as a fairy princess telling everyone how pretty I was. Keep my complete and utter idiocy in mind.

Why exactly was I in love with Ash? I suppose the major thing was that he had balls (Oh god, please excuse the awful pun). I mean that in the non-crude way, and not even in the awesome, had a billion pokeballs kind of way. For a six or so year old girl, the coolest thing ever to me was the fact that this boy who can't have been more than ten and yet he was out there taking on the world, without supervision, being all badass. That kind of independence was something my six year old self was in awe of.

And then, you have the fighting evil part. Sure, not everyone who fought him was evil, but there's nothing cooler than a guy who was good, fighting evil. Team Rocket kept trying to bring him down, but he foiled them everytime (or, they foiled themselves. Such inefficient plans. They should have looked into that). Plus, he liked animals. Well, not animals, pokemon, but check out that bond he had with pikachu - it was adorable. I'm a sucked for soppiness, and that topped the list. It was so cute. And while Brock was out there going all starry eyed over every single nurse or policewoman, Ash was focused and ambitious. I suppose I had high standards.

I guess early celebrity crushes are kind of just echoes of what you move on to like later in life. I just thought I'd share the mechanics of this early little infatuation. I mean, now my hypthetical "perfect guy" list has progressed quite a bit - it's a joke between a friend of mine and I that every time we come out of a movie we add another criteria onto the list of things that this perfect guy can do - often stupid, mind you. We walked out of Race To Witch Mountain (yes, we went to see that. My friends and I will go and see ANYTHING if it involves leaving the house) and said "Right, he's got to be able to withstand the force of an entire car hitting him. Definitely".