E, Me, And Afternoon Tea

So apparently there is this new TV show out there called Nurse Jackie.
Hmm. Yeah.
I don't know anyone who watches this show, nor who stars in it, nor what it's about, but I can say with absolute certainty that it is the worst thing to have ever been invented. And I'm not just talking TV-show-wise. I mean out of every invention, every concoction, every development, every thought that has ever existed since the beginning of time, this show is the worst.
It is unacceptable to publicly advertise the spelling of my name with an 'e' on the end. Do you know how many years I have endured the assumption that J-A-C-K-I-E is correct? Do you? DO YOU?? If you do, could you let me know? I'm a bit hazy on the exact amount of time, seeings as for the first part of my life I was illiterate and therefore didn't realise when people typo'd my name. If I had to guess I'd say 15, maybe 16 years.
And yeah. Typo'd. You heard me right. When that turns up in the Macquarie Dictionary, I'll expect to be paid.

And now for something completely different.

A very clever young man by the name of Tym Yee recently started an online magazine entitled 'Always Late For Tea'. In Tym's own words, Always Late For Tea 'aims to discover the challenging, honest and amazing stories of interesting individuals who can, in some way or another, inspire us.'
Yes. It's brilliant, no? And not just because he found my blog, read it, decided it was somewhat funny, and asked me to join him as the magazine's 'live-in humourist'. If you've come within 10 feet of my father in the past week or so, you will already know this. My dad is way too excited. I think he massively overestimates my skills in the writing arena. Dad, if you're reading this right now, I'll tell you the same thing my year 8 English teacher told me: If you think this kind of writing is good, you need to pick up a real book. Like, now.
Still, crap literary skills or not, it's quite exciting. I even get my own by-line. I think. Note To Self: Check definition of 'by-line'. Well, I get a description. And my own column. I am so Carrie Bradshaw right now! Only instead of writing about sex, I string stories of how my mum is addicted to housemaid-specific steroids and can't stop vacuuming our house. Also there's no photo of me, but I think that's just to avoid scaring potential readers away. Whatever, not important.
Anyway, if you're interested, check it out here. And if you're not, that's cool - just prepare to be stabbed.
Kidding! Or am I? Click here to find out!