So I went to the doctor today. And the Apple Store, but since the dudes at Apple were total douche-bags to me, I'm not going to grace them with a mention on my blog. Except to say this: the dudes at Apple in Chatswood are all douche-bags. Don't go there.
So I went to the doctor. Well, technically not the doctor. I suppose a doctor is more accurate, since I am assuming there is more than one doctor in existance. Then again, perhaps not. This is a crazy messed up world we live in. Anyway, this doctor I went to see was a plastic surgeon, cause - you guessed it - I've finally decided to bite the bullet and upgrade my chest to a pair of bangin' double ds.
Okay, that's a lie. I would never get breast implants. Plus we all know I've already got bangin' double ds. No, the real reason was to start getting the scar on my hand reduced - even though if you were to ask, it doesn't bother me that much. Mostly I'm just doing it to appease my Mother and her fear that "no man will ever put a ring on that hand!"
Mum, come on. Let's be honest. A little scar isn't the reason that won't be happening. Actually I think it has more to do with me being less than 10 months away from my 21st birthday and still making boob jokes on the internet.
So I'm watching Australia's Got Talent right now. The Grand Final episode. Yep, I am living the high life alright. Still, whether or not you would like to witness host Grant Denyer being crushed by an avalanche of poorly-constructed toilets (is there a more humiliating death than that?), you have to admit those people do have talent. I was disappointed when Watermelon Man didn't make the finals, but the others have grown on me. I especially like the dancers. I especially don't like the father and son who both got in as separate acts. Ugh. Separate acts. Ugh. They keep talking about how they 'don't feel like each others competition'. The dad wants to son to win and the son wants the dad to win. And everyone keeps aahing and awwing like this is the most selfless thing in the world, which it's NOT - the kid is only 16, people. It doesn't matter which one of them wins, they're both gonna end up watching the same flat screen TV bought with AGT prize money. Yes most of this hostility comes from the fact that I'm not a finalist on Australia's Got Talent, but still. The dancers should win. That's all I'm saying.