Spammers, I am disappoint.

Some of you may recall that I have already written a post on spam in May.  At the time of that post I decided to make things interesting.  I disabled the spam blocker on my blogger account in the effort to attract more spam to deal with.  Actually, to attract any spam, since the only ones I have had so far were from Kristen and Lac who are not actually spam-bots.

Spammers, what the hell? Not a single spam entry since I disabled my spam safety net.  I know I am not the biggest blog... and in fact only have 18 people who follow me, but actually and very literally I AM BEGGING TO BE SPAMMED.  It is an open invitation and so far I am having a party with just me and the tramadol laced inheritance cake.  You will never get an easier target.  I won't even delete your spam, and instead display it proudly for all to see.

About the same time as my spam filter disabling, the forum where I spend a lot of my time upped its spam measures and I now have not disapproved any spam since MAY.  I am having withdrawals.  I might even make one of the tags for this post 'spam me damn it'.  Do you think that would work?  Or saying words like Canadian Pharmacies and Viagra? 

Spammers! Oh delightful morning on the Internet market.  Why you ever need flaming language for best possible? Post here Canadian pharmacy and best cost only Tramadol without prescription!  Freedom for posting and happy guarantee!

Please?

I am what I am from my childhood.

I think the reason I am such a strange character is clear from the stories of my childhood.  I was never very normal or straightforward, which I think is pretty obvious once you see the finished product. 

A prime example is of my sister's first birthday.  I was almost four and getting into all sorts of trouble in my grandmother's sewing cupboard.  At this stage I had just started sewing (But I still needed Grandma to thread the needle for me) and I wanted to make something to wear to her party.  A little over ambitious? Probably.  Likely to end up as an embarrassing photo for the whole wold to see? Most definitely.  Unfortunately instead of going for a modest dress or a nice dress suit I went with a bikini.  Why my parents allowed me to attend my sisters birthday party wearing a strip of fabric covering my nipples and a loin cloth I will never know.

Due to a lack of photographic evidence at this time this illustration will have to do.

Another issue of my childhood was that I was born without the instinct of stranger danger.  While my little sister would eye people off and keep her cute little mouth closed I would be blabbing my head off to some poor unsuspecting stranger.  To this day I have no concept of this very important survival instinct.  On the upside it means that it is easy for me to meet people and make friends.  On the downside it can get you into all kinds of trouble.  I have had several people of the male persuasion think that my lack of stranger danger means they can follow me home or stalk me at work.  I am slowly learning the importance of keeping my mouth zipped.

Being afraid of the dark is another throw back from my childhood.  I know, Hambo the zombie slayer afraid of the dark?  Don't ask me how or why, I just am.  I am ok as long as I don't realise I am in the dark.  Going to the toilet in the middle of the night is ok as long as my brain doesn't work.  I remember being only about nine years old and totally freaking myself out.  I had somehow convinced myself that there was a leopard in my room, crouching by my closed door just staring into my soul.  I couldn't blink.  In the end I managed to throw myself from my bed to my little sisters and fall asleep with her.  When I woke up in the morning it turned out that the 'leopard' was actually my school bag and I was a giant sissy.

Black Ops is the best and worst game in the world.

I have come to this conclusion this very afternoon.  Black Ops and I have a bitter sweet romance that very often ends up with me screaming at the screen and flailing my limbs around.  Or sometimes dragging myself from the couch to the bedroom with red eyes at three in the morning.  Yet, somehow I end up romanticising the game and putting it into the PlayStation to wile away my precious few hours on a game that turns me into a raging mad woman.

This afternoon for instance I spent a full five minutes arguing with someone, who sounded like a prepubescent boy, about how he should turn his mic off while he eats chips.  For five minutes.  What is wrong with me? Why didn't I just mute him? Why didn't he mute me? Because Black Ops turns you into the Devil's spawn.  The swears that came out of his mouth!  The worst part was when I was telling him off I realised I probably sounded like his mother.  'Turn your mic off when you are eating chips!'  While I was at it I should have told him I would wash his mouth out with soap and roused at him for playing games instead of doing his homework. *facepalm*

When it comes to video games it's like I become a different person.  Like Jekyll and Hyde, I am a cute little girl who is into nice things and the moment Black Ops is on I become the power hungry, locked and loaded maniac who takes no prisoners.  When I play I pray for someone to tell me that I sound like a 10 year old boy so I can kick their ass and tell them how bad they must feel being beaten by a girl.  Or telling people to nick off when they find out I am a girl and try to be all nice.  Then I shut it off and go to work, chatting with patients and joking with old ladies that I am only called Samantha when I am in trouble. 

I even had one guy have a go at me for having the same name as him (Hambo).  What the hell dude? I added you two weeks ago because you thought it was cool we had the same name.  All Black Ops players are crazy people waiting to happen... And that is totally self confessed.

I really should be dead. Me living seems illogical.

I can't believe I am still alive - and in one piece! I think back over the years of stupid things I have done that should have killed me and I am surprised that I am not dead.  For instance, I loved climbing the trees out the front of my Grandma's place when I was a kid.  I was five when I first fell out and almost broke my arm.  I cried and it hurt a lot but I was back in the tree a couple of days later.  One of my fondest memories of my Grandad involved him hanging out the front window yelling at us kids to get out of the damn trees.  Even now it makes me smile, it's such an old man thing to say. 

When I was about 8 years old I was climbing one of the trees in my new dress.  Now I know what you are thinking.  That doesn't sound like a good idea... And, in hindsight it was a bloody stupid idea. But, hey, my 8 year old brain was living in the moment and no dress was going to stop me climbing my trees.  It was all fine until I decided to get out of the tree.  I decided to jump out.  It wasn't that high but, as it turns out, that wasn't the issue.  My dress got hooked on an old cut off branch and proceeded to hang me.  I was hanging in the tree, my face turning more and more red.  I managed to call out to my 4 year old sister, who was climbing the trees with me.  'Get mum and dad,' I managed to choke out.  She ran off, like a good sibling, to get our parents.  She ran up to them and, do you know what she said? 'Mum! Dad! Sam is stuck in the tree!' It's a wonder I was still conscious by the time they wandered leisurely down the path towards me.

Since then I have almost poisoned myself with old mince on two separate occasions, given myself two very serious chest infections, broken my thumb doing a cartwheel and a million other stupid things.  But I am not concerned with stupid things like almost knocking myself out after colliding with the fridge with my face in the dark.  I have survived so many freak accidents that I am sure I am like a cockroach.  Bring on the radiation.

I am more concerned with the crap I am putting in my body. I have this problem where, if there is food in front of me, I will keep eating until my stomach has taken up space in my chest that was reserved for my lungs.  Even that would be OK though, if the content of my food was good.  Unfortunately I tend to eat rubbish.  I have these periods where I will eat so badly that I will guilt myself into eating healthy.  The time that I stick with eating healthy is inversely proportional to the quality of the food consumed before the guilt diet. 

Going by that information I think the food I have consumed in the last week means I will be eating salads for the next year.  On Wednesday night (the Pictionary night) I had all manner of cheese, apple pie, ice cream, custard, olives, dip and crackers and lots of awful wine.  Then yesterday I ate my own body weight in cake, chips, nachos and soft drink at our manager's farewell.  It was so bad that I had to stay behind to recover because I couldn't breathe properly.  We also went out to shooting last night and ate a million lollies and chocolate and I also drank beer and ate lots of dim sims. THEN this morning my coworkers and I had the brilliant idea of getting a certain fast food company's* food for breakfast.

Somehow I managed to down a pack of three hotcakes, a sausage and cheese muffin, a hash brown and a canned soft drink.  Then I had a stupid idea.  I decided to calculate how much of my daily intake I had squandered on such a fattening breakfast. I kind of wish I hadn't.  Below is an illustration of my working:

This isn't a hotcakes lid, it's my tombstone...

Energy: 60.5%
Fat: 59%
Saturated fat: 74%
Salt: 79.8%
Sugar: 98%

The worst part is that these would be for an averaged sized adult.  I am not quite 5 foot 2 and only 55kg.  I don't know about you but that doesn't seem like average.  Also, I am pretty bad at exercising...
I can't believe I have had 98% of my daily sugar intake AT BREAKFAST.  I have a Caramello Koala in my hand.  It alone has 12% of my daily recommended sugar intake.  I was going to be good and not have it, but then I realised I had a coffee this morning. A coffee with sugar. So, screw it.  Bring on the chocolatey death...



EDIT: It appears that I have seriously overestimated my daily intake allowance.  One of my friends pointed out that these values would be correct for an average male.  I don't even want to do the math for the average female...

*I will refrain from mentioning their name so they don't sue/murder me. But we all know who I am talking about! ;)

Pictionary, recommended with Alcohol.

Last night I had a friend and her boyfriend over.  We do this on occasion and, usually we drink bad wine, sing badly to eighties music and record ourselves being strange on my video camera.  Last night was no different.  After some really bad wine (we made the mistake of having the nice bottle of wine first) we started to play pictionary.  It was boys versus girls, so there was a lot at stake.  We warmed up our drawing hands and our brains and got into things.  This is what followed...

This is the first page.  I would like to firstly apologise to all the American and Canadian people out there who may be upset that my attempt to draw your countries ended up looking like an icecream cone.  Also, apparently the Canadian flag I drew looks like a marijuana flag.

 

This page was my favourite.  John's picture is in the top left hand corner and it is miniscule. I have no idea how anyone can even see the picture, let alone guess what it was of.  This is where the lamp came into things.  Now, I drew a vacuum cleaner.  It looks perfect to me, but according to everyone else it looked like some kind of future car.  So I decided to draw a lamp.  It was to make the point that it was indoors and for perspective.  No one knew what the hell I was talking about. 'A lamp? For perspective?' Everyone proceded to roll around laughing at me.  So, in the following pages where there looks like a lamp (or once like a large penis) that is actually a lamp. You know, for perspective.

As the night went on the pictures looked more and more like penis' and other rude body parts.  So the first guess for any picture was 'PENIS! NO! VAGINA! CRAP, NO! BALLS!'  If you ask me the egg beater one looks overly suspicious...  And the new catch phrase was 'Well, I would have got it if you had drawn a lamp for perspective...'

 

By the end of the night we were pretty good at drawing and guessing.  Even though John didn't get the Harry Potter drawing.  What a noob.  And Rachel and I got the award for best guess with fewest lines.  It was a hairdryer. Yes, we do rock.

Faulty Computer Brain

Sometimes my brain is like a computer.  Not a flash high speed gizmo one, more like the one my family owned in the late nineties.  I say this for many reasons.  For instance, it took about twenty minutes to boot up and that is how long I spend staring at the mirror in the morning before I can even think of getting ready.  To install anything new you had to trowel through My Documents and delete half a dozen things to make room: I can only hold a certain amount of information before my brain deletes 'unimportant' information such as how to navigate home or boil an egg.

One day I had a major computer brain malfunction.  I mean, there is never a day where it doesn't have to be 'rebooted'.  But this was a major glitch.

It all started with my boyfriends Landscape Architecture assignment.  It was due the next day and, to make sure he didn't give up and go to bed, I stayed up with him all night and helped him.  I was cutting out mini trees and holding freshly glued cardboard in place until 2.30 am.  By the time I got to bed and went to sleep it was about 3.30 am.  I was stuffed.  I slept like a log.

Until 6.30 am, when I had to get up for uni.  At this stage work and uni were crazy.  I was working 7 day weeks, starting work at 5am every Saturday and Sunday morning.  I felt like I never slept, but 3 hours was a new record.  I dragged myself out of bed, stared at the mirror for twice the normal amount of time.  I don't even remember how I got dressed, it is all a blur.  The same goes for how I managed to drive myself to uni.

This day was a pretty boring one.  For uni one day a week we had to go to the teaching hospital to learn some practical skills.  This day was particularly boring, I almost went to sleep a dozen times but somehow I managed to make it through.  We were in the last part of the days class, talking about a crappy part of assessment.  it was basically the same ridiculous assignment we had just done but even harder.  I hated it.  It was a stupid assignment and everyone knew it, even our clinical facilitator.  I decided to express my dislike for the assessment.

So I said, 'It sucks peanuts'.

Brain: That doesn't even make sense. Who would suck peanuts? I think you actually meant something else.

So what I actually said was: THAT SUCKS PENIS.

In front of the whole class and the clinical lecturer.

Goddamn crappy auto correct...

I think my brain requires a major upgrade.

Dress ups!!

So I think I have found a new hobby.  It's pretty obvious and I guess you could say it has been a long time coming. I have decided my new hobby will be creating Cosplay outfits! WEEEEEEE!!! I have always loved dressing up and, since I have been able to sew since the age of five (not well at 5, but hey, it totally counts) costuming is such an obvious choice for a hobby. Plus I am a GIANT nerd.

For your viewing pleasure I have included some of my costumes so far...

 For a friends 19th Birthday party.  Excuse the horrible hair, this was straight after a game of paintball in the rain...

For my friend's 30th Birthday... It was pirate themed!!

For my friend's little sisters birthday party.  Her birthday is a couple of weeks before Halloween.

 For the 2009 Brisbane Zombie walk.  Taken before we bloodied ourselves up.

For the 2010 Brisbane Zombie walk.

Me as the character for our zombie movie - End Game.

For a friend's dress up birthday party, just this weekend!!

From humble beginings to awesome outfits.  I feel pretty happy with my last one.  It took me two days to make the hand attachments and to source all of the stuff to make the whole outfit.  Good effort, if you ask me!  Hambo points to those who know who I am dressing up as in each photo! Except the pirate one. I was just your generic pirate wench :)

Never trust a Poodle...

I had never really thought of Poodles as much of a dog growing up.  I was raised with German shepherds as an ideal example of a real dog.  They ate plants out of the garden, roots and all, that probably should have killed them.  They terrified the absolute crap out of the paper boys in our area and no cat ever set foot in our yard... at least none that we saw.  We were taught to think that these were real dogs and any breed that couldn't match their awesomeness in these areas was obviously a lessor breed.  So when I moved out from living with my Mum and Step-Dad to live with my Dad and Step-Mum I had a large adjustment to make.  Not only did they own a cat, but they also owned a poodle.

When I was a kid our German Shepherds were cheeky buggers.  Conan, the younger; bigger; and; sookier one, would always get into trouble from mum.  She always had to be the bad guy.  She didn't like it, but someone had to keep a giant German shepherd pup in line.  Conan was smart. One day mum came home from work to find shredded piles of clothes strewn all over the yard. Her clothes. Only hers.  He was a smart bastard.  To me, I thought this was a sign of intelligence from the breed, rather than the species in general.  How wrong I was.

Cody, the poodle, turned out to be pretty cute and kind of crazy.  I grew to love him and we became friends, I guess you could say.  The only problem was he was kind of obsessive and very neurotic.  In the back of my mind I guess I rationalized it by thinking poodles weren't that clever, they were less intelligent than awesome breeds like German shepherds. It was more a case of being ignorant on my part than of him failing to show signs of intelligence.

This all came to a head one fateful day.  He was obsessed with a lizard hiding underneath one of the logs in the backyard.  And by obsessed I mean there for probably more than a couple of hours, whingeing, scratching and doing little cute puppy circles.  Not only was I concerned for the lizard's safety, but I was getting fed up with hearing the constant scratching and whining noises from the backyard.  I'd had enough.

I marched down to the backyard and yelled out his name. Nothing. 'CODY!!!!!' I screamed at him, 'FOR GOD'S SAKE, LEAVE THE FREAKING LIZARD ALOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!!!!'. Still nothing.  It was like his whole being existed just to paw and scratch and whine at that damn lizard.  Something inside me snapped.  Like, went completely loco.  I did a kind of angry dance and then I smacked him.  Right on the bum.  It wasn't hard, more like a firm tap, but he had been so absorbed in that damn lizard that he forgot the world existed.  To put it short, he almost pooped himself.

He twisted around and looked at me like I had given him a right flogging.  At this stage I was still yelling, though who knows what I was even saying.  He scuttled off and I just stood there, hulking out for a couple of minutes.  He didn't bug the lizard again, he must have been traumatised, so I got on with my day.

The next day at school I was thinking about how I had treated him.  I began to feel guilty.  I thought to myself, 'He is just a poor stupid poodle, he doesn't understand.  What the hell is wrong with me?' I felt terrible.  I got home that afternoon and found Cody curled up on the couch.  When he heard me he poked his little head up.  I could see fear in his eyes.  I was a monster.  I sat down next to him and began my apology.  I explained to him that I hadn't meant to get so mad and that I shouldn't have smacked him, no matter how soft it was.  I promised him that it would never happen again and that I really wanted to be friends again.  And yes, I really did say all this out loud.

At the end of it Cody seemed a little more relaxed but I knew there was a long way to go.  As I got up from the couch and began to walk to my room I turned to him and smiled, I actually told him I loved him.  He looked nervously at me, as if he expected me to hulk out.  Then I walked through my bedroom door.

Piss EVERYWHERE.  On my bed.  On my rug. On my school books.  On my sketch books.  That little bastard. I walked out of my bedroom and looked at straight into his cold dead eyes.  It was war...

Cody:1, Hambo: Nil.


NEVER underestimate a poodle.

Trolley Watching

I have heard of some people who go to shopping centres just to watch the people, see the weirdos and creepers.  I don't really understand the attraction to be honest.  Why people watch when you can trolley watch.  The amount of information you can learn about people from what they put in their trolley is AMAZING. 

For instance: Two young women, maybe late teens - early twenties, with a trolley full of junk.  Instant pizzas, gourmet cheese, pre-made salads and fancy face care accessories. ANALYSIS =  probably just moved out of home or their parents are away overseas.  They only buy the best brands and pre-made food because they either have no idea how to live out of home or their shop is being funded by their parents.

Next example: An old man, pushing a smaller trolley.  Contents are a single apple, two potatoes, half a dozen tins of fish and a loaf of bread.  ANALYSIS = Single retired pensioner.  Probably learning to buy for one after losing his partner.  Buys minimally because the old age pension SUCKS.

See what I mean? Even if it isn't true, trolley watching is an imaginations dream.  I was shopping today and I couldn't help but peek into people's trolleys, wondering what their story is.  I try to be impartial, trying not to judge people by the contents of their trolley.  I admit, I have thought disapprovingly of parents with kids in tow and a trolley full of sugar.  I guess they will have to put up with the kids on a sugar high, though. You reap what you sow.

I learnt my trolley watching lesson the hard way once.  I had a day off, completely to myself.  This was a rare occasion since I was doing full time study and working almost every spare minute I had.  I had planned an awesome day.  I was going to bake and cook a stew for dinner.  While they were cooking I planned to watch a zombie movie and dye my hair.  A day of pure indulgence.  The only problem was I had to nick down to the shops to pick up a few things: some ingredients for my stew, some cream to stop the hair dye from making my face purple and some 'ladies things' since my well timed time of the month coincided with my day off.

I was cruising around the grocery store and had everything within 10 minutes flat and, since I had less than 12 items I got to use the express lane.  It was then that I noticed the contents of my basket.  I stared down in horror at two very large carrots, a tub of Vaseline and a box each of tampons and pads.  What. The. Hell.  I tried to cover the items on the conveyor belt with a packet of pasta. It kept sliding off to reveal my perverted shopping items. I couldn't even look at the girl serving me. I mumbled something about having a busy day or something. I can't even remember.  I shuffled my way through the check-out, face bright red, never looking back.

I think I will give those parents with the sugar loaded trolleys some slack.

Another one of THOSE days

Today was a day I can't wait to forget.  It started off pretty well, come to think of it that was probably the start... get my hopes up before smashing the crap out of my awesome day.  I should have seen the warning signs I guess, but they were masked by my optimism and general appearance of a good day ahead of me.  I just had about 10 hours sleep and woke up after hitting the snooze button a couple of times at a very respectable time of 07.30 am.  Sign number one: waking up with a headache after tossing and turning all night.  I put it down to too much sleep and got on with my morning.  I got dressed in adult clothes (and all by myself too!) and got ready to go out.

I was going to the movies with my mum this morning, I hadn't seen her in a few months despite living in the same city, so it was nice to catch up.  We decided to meet at a local shopping centre and grab a coffee then watch a movie at the cinema.  Sign number two: getting half way to the shopping centre and realising I forgot my phone. Normally I wouldn't care and just keep going on my merry way, but this day... this day we didn't pick somewhere to meet, we decided to text each other when we got there.  All the way home to get the damn phone.

On the way back to the shopping centre I get a text message. Sign number three: a message from my boss asking me to start work half an hour earlier.  I call her and tell her that I may or may not be able to but I would get there when I can.  Boss is grateful and I keep driving to the shopping centre.  I meet my my mum. We go and eat awesome sushi for lunch.  We make it to the movie a little late, but it was great fun and I laughed so much.  The movie was Arthur, and I have to admit I didn't expect to like it so much.  This is about where I am having a great day and probably think to myself that nothing could destroy it for me.  BIG MISTAKE.

I rush home so I can get ready in time to be at work early.  I don't know why I cared so much, maybe I was grateful for the extra shifts my boss had given me and wanted to show her I was thankful for them.  STUPID GIRL.  Anyway, I am getting ready and I take the time and effort to iron my uniform.  In the last three years I think I have ironed my uniform less times than there are fingers on my right hand.  I was obviously in a good mood and trying to impress.

So I get all my stuff together and start walking to work. It is a short walk, only about 10 minutes or so, nothing too tiring.  As I start out I notice an overabundance of rain clouds.  Again I dare to think.  I think 'Gee, it looks like it is going to rain. I hope it waits until I get to work'. I swear the second I finished that sentence it started pissing down rain.  I use that phrase because as a child I was told that when it rains that is God going to the toilet (don't ask me why people say these ridiculous things to children).  Never before has that imagery been so apt.  I could imagine him pissing down on my wonderful day, laughing and aiming right down on my head.

It gets better. Because I am such a child and refuse to grow up, the only umbrella I own is pink with a piggy face and ears on it.  It is about big enough for a 5 year old to be protected from a light sun shower.  All it did for me was stop my head from getting wet.  Even the end of my pony tail was drenched. The worst part - well one of the worst parts - was I had gone too far from shelter to turn back, I had to keep going. I was taking baby running steps because if I walked too fast more of me got wet.  My pants were soaked from the knee down.  My shoes were filling with water.  The stupidest part was when I got to shelter, about 20 metres from my work, I decided to persevere. What an idiot.

By the time I got to work I was saturated.  My pig umbrella had started dripping and raining from the inside.  I think it was probably a display only umbrella.  My shoes were literally filled with water.  I was wet, cold and miserable.  The ironic thing was that I arrived just in time to start half an hour early for my shift.  It took half an hour for me to call my boyfriend and get him to bring me spare clothes and shoes so I could actually work.  If I had just bummed about at home for another half an hour I could have avoided this whole thing.  That was the first and only time it rained all day.Next time, I am going to be lazy and play games instead of going to work early.  A valuable lesson learned.

Day of the Rapture

I woke up this morning feeling slightly off.  I was coughing pathetically and aching all over.  It was 4 am and I was wondering what I had done to deserve being woken up at this time on a Sunday morning.  Then I realised I was going to work on a Sunday, so the Rapture was probably getting in early. Since the Rapture was set for 6pm, I figured it was probably according to American time and therefore I would be safe to sin for a few more hours yet.

After staring into my coffee for 20 minutes I finally got ready for work.  It was then that I realised it was raining.  Sign of the coming Rapture #2.  It was cold and wet and I bet God knows that I already felt like crap and was making me miserable on purpose.  And being sick it was the perfect miserable combination.  Not to mention there was a snail sleeping perfectly in the middle of my front door, right at eye height too. I eyed it suspiciously as I left.  I have lived at this place for 3 years and never once seen a snail... A sign of the coming Rapture?

On my way to work my MP3 player died and in the silence I pondered the situation I was in.  In the event of the coming Rapture, on a scale of 1 to 10, how screwed am I? Just the day before I had used very reliable flow charts to check whether I should prepare the choirs of Angels or the fire retardant blankets.  I decided that they probably weren't all that accurate.

Work was ok, but not great.  We had to go back to a ward that we DROVE DOWN THE STREET TO (yes, it is that far away) and that was a pain, but I think that sign of the coming Rapture was neutralised by the fact that we bought ham and cheese pies for breakfast.

Now, I am pretty sure that it is past Rapture o'clock and nothing catastrophic has really happened yet.  In fact, I have surfed the Internet at work all morning, had pie for breakfast and slept a little, too.  If this is the Rapture then, seriously God, you are going to have to try harder.  Pies are no punishment for the wicked.

Spam

On the forum where I spend a lot of my time, I am a moderator.  This sounds exciting. I look important. People look up to me.

Whatever. All I live for at the moment is SPAM.  I have become a spam crusader.  Defending the pages of the forum from the infiltration of nonsensical posts regarding Canadian Online Pharmacies.

'Want to get high on Tramadol?' ACCESS DENIED.

'Want free sexy times?' NICE TRY SPAM BOT.

I imagine myself wielding a Samurai sword, hacking the spammy posts into nothing.  I am the shining knight defending the innocent readers from unspeakable horrors from the Canadian Drug Smugglers.

The saddest part is when I check my blog, I am more eager to check for spam than anything else. I think I have issues.

Please help me by posting your fake spam below.

Happy Easter

Happy Easter everyone!

I have always loved Easter.  I mean, it is the perfect holiday for kids really.  Christmas only works because of the sheer amount of food and presents, because lets face it - Santa is kind of creepy.  My sister never liked Santa in the shopping centres (although it never stopped her from accepting his presents!).  BUT EASTER.  Chocolate plus a small fluffy mammal.  PERFECT.  And this year we get 5 days off in a row.  Last Christmas it was only 3.  And it was stinking hot, as it is in Australia.

When I was a kid it was easy to see how cool you were at Easter. It was the volume of chocolate the Easter Bunny brought you.  Going on this gem of wisdom I bought as many Easter eggs this year as my budget would allow.  Why buy 20 Cadbury eggs when I can get 30 no name Australian made ones for the same price!  I bought two packets.  I had SOOOO MANY EASTER EGGS. I was awesome.  Until I ate the chocolate eggs I had bought.  It was like a chocolate chicken and a Japanese curry had an illegitimate love child.  It may have taken me 24 years, but I have finally learnt the lesson of putting quality above quantity.

Easter egg, anyone?

Zombie Short Film

Last night I was involved in a production for a Zombie short film.  Our awesome director/camera man/writer, Mark Skater, organised a fantastic crew and cast for an epic night of filming.  You guys should check it out.  The short film hasn't been released but there are heaps of photos and other vidz for you to check out.  Just look up Mark Skater or Makio Vidz on facebook.  Here are a couple of pics to whet your appetite!

It's not you, it's me.

Well… This is kind of awkward.  Kind of like going on a first date, not calling for two weeks and then getting a call asking to go out again… I would like to start off by saying I always meant to call, it’s not like I wasn't going to. But, you know, I got busy and had a lot of stuff on.  It’s hard keeping a blog when there is so much going on in real life.  I should have seen this coming, I should have known better.  My attention span is like 5 minutes and my longest hobby about 6 months.  It’s not you it’s me. But I promise I will get better, I will start posting those reviews I promised and I will make an effort to be more interesting.  This is the start of something new. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY. I promise I can change = )

Oooops.

Due to unforeseen circumstances (ie. my shitty body and uni) I have been unable to put up the review for Black Ops or start playing Pokemon Snap. I apologise to my two readers for this lack of commitment immensely. I promise I will start playing those games as soon as possible and I will post the review when I can.  Thank you to those of you who voted for the such awesome games I am forced to play!

And the winner is...

The game I will review for this week is:

Call of Duty: Black Ops (PS3)

This review will be posted on Sunday 30^th of January.  The poll for next weeks game will be put up now and will close on Sunday night, giving me a week to play and review the game.  If you have any suggestions for games you would like to be reviewed feel free to comment.  Please keep in mind that very rare games may take a while for me to get my hands on. I own the following consoles/platforms:

- PS3

- XBOX

- Game Cube

- PC

- Nintendo 64

- PS1

- SNES

- Gameboy

- Gameboy Advance

- Nintendo DS

- Sega Megadrive

This weeks choice of games to review:

- Burnout Paradise (PS3)

- Pokemon Snap (N64)

- Starcraft 2 (PC)

Thank you to all the people that voted (all 12 of you! Can't believe there were so many!).  For some reason it says only 5 voted but I know Blogger is a filthy liar, there were 12 last night!

Ok

Game Reviews

I have decided that every week I will post a review of one game.  It can be from a number of consoles (PS3, PC, N64, Gamecube etc.) and I will let who ever happens to read my blog choose!  Each week I will give a list of games that I can review and the one with the most votes will be the one I will write up.  Reviews will be posted on the Sunday night of every week so get voting now!

This weeks selection:
- Plants Vs. Zombies (PC)
- CoD: Black Ops (PS3)
- Sim City (DS)

Don't worry if the one you wanted didn't get picked, the games will eventually be on the list again at a later date.  And don't forget: I will be playing the chosen game for a week, so make it a good one!!! Get commenting!

An Introduction

I have never been very good at introducing myself.  A whole post and I didn’t tell you my name or even say hello.  My name is Sam, but you can call me Hambo, everyone else does.  I am a twenty-three year old girl from Brisbane, Australia.  (I say girl because I can’t bear to call myself a ‘woman’.  By admitting that I am a woman I would be opening the floodgates for responsibility and all other kinds of adult problems.  I already have to pay bills, work, study and clean… god knows what other adult things lurk in the shadows waiting for me to be deemed a competent adult.  Ooops, off topic.)

Getting back to the main issue: me.  I have a boyfriend who is a velociraptor on the scale of awesome.  We have been together for 4.5 years and we are still going strong.  We live in a tiny apartment just outside the city in Brisbane and I can’t wait until we can buy a place of our own.   Actually, we pretty much can’t wait to get out.  Period.  Seriously, it’s like a deathtrap.

I used to have a well formed life with well developed responsibilities.  I used to be much more social and an active member of my community.  That was before I discovered CoD.  I must admit, I am a video game addict.  I grew up playing them with my Dad and, now that I am making my own money, I have acquired a pretty good collection of games.  But none are as addictive as Call of Duty: Black Ops.  I am also a major nerd and love sci-fi and all manner of nerdy books and movies.  I have a feeling that a lot of my entries will be based around video games and sci-fi… So like it or lump it.

I think that is all I am going to tell you for now, I need people to have a reason to come back again! Hopefully this will flourish into a well visited blog and I will become famous and rich.  But I am pretty sure that’s what most people are hoping for when they start a blog, so I guess I will settle for a couple of people who come and read my posts through to the end.