Chop chop!
January 14, 2005
If you are reading this, you undoubtedly know me in real life, or are my boyfriend, Adam, skimming over what I’ve written to ensure I haven’t slandered him, so he can decide which martial art to use against me this week. I’m sensing Krav Maga today - the official defense system of the Israeli defence forces, which as far as I can tell, utilises the deadly weapons of broken pieces of Israeli furniture which happen to be lying around your attack zone.
I’m not fond of “about” pages (even though I’ve cobbled one together) or introductions, so I’ll let my Logie-strength personality shine through in my writing alone. In the coming months you can certainly expect me to write about my ongoing attempts to blame the pain I am going through at the gym on anyone possible (I’ve got ongoing vendettas with a number of Fitness First employees).
I’m also forming the world’s first homo metal band (initially, it will just be me and two mates covering 90s pop songs as thrash metal). You would be surprised how well any song which predominantly features “ooooh” in the chorus can be replaced with lots of “oi!” and growling. Although I am relegating myself to bass player, and not lead vocalist, I will eventually pull a Beyonce on the group and subliminally achieve popularity through a dodgy side project (likely to be power metal duets with awful pop stars such as Holly Valance and Natalie Imbruglia, which despite my better judgement, I have soft spots for).
Oh yes - there’s also going to be the wacky adventures of my penis operation. Stay tuned as I under go an adult circumcision and attempt to channel my agony and trauma into some sort of online sitcom!
Seriously. It’s something I’ve been putting off, but I actually do have to get an adult circumcision. I’ve got a really bad case of phimosis (seriously, don’t Google that and wonder “that is SUCH a tiny bellybutto- OH MY GOD” - I’ve already done it for you). I won’t be getting too graphic, although if you really are curious, it means the foreskin can’t be pulled back. This was slightly mortifying for most of my adult life seeing as it makes sex quite painful most of the time, but I’ve decided that like most things in life, this is something to be laughed at.
I’ll probably go back and read this post right after I’ve had the operation and leave myself searingly vicious comments, though.
Did I drive everyone off already? Goddamit, I feel like a local Channel 7 production.
