I'm going to make this quick, because Bones is on in 5 minutes, and I don't want to miss any. It's an episode I've already seen, but honestly I don't care because Cindy Lauper guest stars, and in my book that warrants an uninterrupted second viewing.
Oh, alright. Third viewing.

Yesterday afternoon, in my seemingly on-going quest to achieve Death By Calories, I made an Oreo cookie cheesecake. Oh, hell yes. So here's a list of what I've discovered about Oreo cookie cheesecakes:

• I would like to lay down in a bed of them and roll around.

That is all. Coincidentally - speaking of laying down in a bed and rolling around, I mean - I'm taking a little trip to Mobile Computers tomorrow morning, and if my laptop is funally functional, I'll be more than happy to lay down in a bed and roll around with the guy responsible.
No, only kidding - that's an activity I reserve solely for Wentworth. But Computer Dude can look forward to a handshake and a smile at the very least. If he's actually fixed my computer, that is; if not, I'll just kick him in the crotch and steal his wallet.
Yeah. Yeah! I find that to be a good solution to most of my problems.
Alright, enough. Cindy Lauper awaits!!

Alot Of Pointless Chatter About Movies

I don't really know what to say. Am I running out of things to blog about? Well, no. But I just saw on the news that a couple of days ago, some baby got run over by a train and survived.
Dude. My biggest achievement in the last couple of days was fixing our DVD player; at the time it was pretty impressive, but now it just seems kind of mediocre. Thanks, train-defeating baby. Thanks alot.

I watched The Shawshank Redemption today. At least, I tried to watch it. I always wanted to, partially because it seems like one of those critically-acclaimed-type movies that you feel smarter having watched (like Citizen Kane or The Hours), but also because it's set in a prison, and anything that's set in a prison reminds me of Wentworth Miller/Prison Break, and anything that reminds me of Wentworth Miller/Prison Break makes me happier than this guy:

And I mean, that's a pretty happy guy. Can't you tell?
Anyway I'm not sure how long into the movie I got before I realised it really had nothing to do with Wentworth Miller - probably around the point where the protagonist is gang-raped by a band of man-hungry prisoners. And I didn't last much longer than that. I might have actually stuck around for the rest, if it weren't for the fact that my dad was watching it with me.
Yeah. By myself, fine - but there is something acutely uncomfortable about watching a guy get gang-raped with your father in the room. Really, I wouldn't recommend it.
But anyway. I didn't finish Shawshank, I haven't seen Citizen Kane or The Hours, and at college on friday I had a brain-freeze while adding some measurements together, and forgot how to carry the one. So right now I'm not feeling too intelligent.
Hey, speaking of movies and not feeling too intelligent, I watched Dodgeball last night. Now that I've actually typed out that segue, I'm aware of how terrible it is, but hey - it worked in my head, so I'm leaving it. Anyway, I have nothing interesting to say about Dodgeball, except that it'd been a while since I'd seen it, and I'd kind of forgotten how funny it is. I especially liked this line:

White Goodman: Oh, hello Kate. I wasn't aware I was paying you to 'socialise'.
Kate: You're not - I'm off the clock.
White Goodman: Well isn't that convenient for you. And the clock.

Ha. Haha. I don't know why, but that made me laugh. Then again, I am a laugh whore, remember?
Before Dodgeball, I watched X-Men 3. I know what you're thinking - Wow, for someone who has 2 college assessments and a clothing collection due in less than two months, you sure watch alot of TV. Well, my answer to you is this: SHUT YOUR PIE HOLES, I DO WHAT I WANT!
Anyway, my mum watched X-Men 3 with me. Whenever my mum watches a movie with me, the same thing happens; I spend the whole time caught between feelings of amusement and utter rage at her reactions to whatever is happening on the screen. For example, you know that scene where Jean Grey morphs into Phoenix, and her eyes go all black, and her skin turns kind of maroonish and veiny and stuff? This is a normal persons response:

Normal Person: (Silently terrified)

And this is my mum:

Mum: Well, she needs a facial, doesn't she?

I tell you, listening to that woman is almost better than watching the movie itself.
Right. Now I've run out of pointless things to blog about, so I'm off. Hopefully by tomorrow something more exciting than fixing a DVD player or not finishing a movie will have happened to me. Maybe I'll go back in time by 19 years and get run over by a train - fingers crossed!

Yesterday on the bus, a woman fell asleep with her head on my shoulder.
Sigh.
I hate that.
Not people falling asleep on my shoulder. No, I am all about people falling asleep on my shoulder, if I know them. But if I don't, there's no way. It's creepy. It's unhygenic - I mean, I don't know who has swine flu or leprosy or dandruff or whatever. Keep your craniums to yourselves, strangers!!
Anyway, this woman got her own back; since she was asleep, she missed her stop. Eventually she woke up and noticed, and started freaking out. Gold. I'm not even going to pretend I didn't feel a tiny glimmer of satisfaction. It's kind of mean, yeah, but hey - that's what you get for trying to spread leprosy.

Catherine and Jacki: Take Sydney

Is anyone else of the opinion that my sister and I should have our own reality show?
Probably not.
Maybe our mother, if she thought it meant we'd be making enough money to move out, and she could finally retire and buy a house in Avalon. Anyone else? I don't think so. But there should be! Here's a potential episode:

(Scene: We're shopping in Spotlight, and I've just found Catherine loitering in the christmas decorations aisle)
Jacki: What the hell are you doing in this aisle?
(Oh, okay, I should explain: earlier, Catherine had expressed an intense loathing of all Christmas-related decorations, on account of their 'garish-ness')
Catherine: ...I don't know. (Points to a Santa hat emblazoned with the phrase 'Ba-humbug') What does Ba-humbug mean?
Jacki: I'm not sure. I think it's one of those made up phrases, like meshugenah.
Catherine: Meshugenah? What does that mean?
Jacki: I don't know. 'Crazy shit'? It's Yiddish.
Catherine: You're Yiddish.
Jacki: Well if I'm Yiddish, so are you - we're related.
Catherine: (Points to a pile of tinsle in an obvious attempt to distract me from the fact that she has lost the previous argument) Pink tinsle? When the f*** did pink become a Christmas colour?
Jacki: Dude, don't swear. There's kids in here.
Catherine: You swear all the time!
Jacki: Not in front of kids!
Catherine: You swore in front of Sean the other day!
Jacki: Yeah, well...
(Awkward silence)
Catherine: Lets get out of here, I farted.
(Later, at the checkout)
Jacki: (Points to some square stickers) Hey, these are cool!
Catherine: They're square and ugly.
Jacki: (Points to some round stickers) These are cool too.
Catherine: They're round and ugly.
Jacki: You know what else is round and ugly? Your face.
Catherine: (Holds up two 'make your own keyring' packs, one snake-shaped and one dragonfly-shaped) Which one should I get?
Jacki: Neither, they're both stupid - like you.
Catherine: (Looks wounded)
Jacki: Oh, alright. Get the dragonfly.
Catherine: Yay! (Puts on top of my purchases)
Jacki: I'm not paying for that.
Catherine: I know, I'll pay. (Pause). Actually, no, can you pay?
Jacki: No!
Catherine: You have to! You owe me money!
Jacki: What? No I don't!
Catherine: Yeah you do! Remember last time we split the cost of the groceries, and you thought you paid for half, but you didn't, and as we were walking out of Coles I said "Hey, you still owe me seven bucks" and you said "Yeah, I'll pay you back later, I promise", and then you didn't!!
Jacki: You made that up!
Catherine: Why would I make that up?
Jacki: So I'd pay for your crappy keyring!!
Catherine: Oh look, the registers open! (Slides my stuff in front of the cashier and puts the keyring on top)

Right? Right?? And I know I'm not the only one who finds that entertaining, because as it was playing out (oh yes, that conversation actually happened), both the cashier I mentioned and the family in front of us were pissing themselves.
Gold.
Alternatively, someone could just film the two of us sitting around playing a marathon game of 'Would you rather...?':

Jacki: Would you rather I sat by your bed all night flicking the light switch on and off, OR if sat by your clock all night, and every time the time changed, I read it out in a really loud alien voice?
Catherine: You are the weirdest person ever.
Jacki: That's not an answer!

Catherine: Would you rather watch Wentworth Miller get married to someone else, knowing he would never leave them, OR watch him die?
Jacki: Wentworth Miller die? Don't even SAY something like that!!

Jacki: Would you rather rape the cat, OR contract herpes from Paul Walker?
Catherine: How about, would I rather contract herpes from the cat or rape Paul Walker?
Jacki: You can't rape the willing.
Catherine: Damn straight!!

Oh man. You can't make that stuff up.

I'm Jacki Trew, and I'm a laughaholic

I finally found out what kind of whore I am!!
Oh, man. That sounded terrible. Sorry, Mum.
But you know, the other day I was entertaining the idea that I'd become a Blog Whore... I've since decided this is very much untrue, on account of the fact that I've been blogging here for over 5 years, only pausing once for a brief flirtation with MSN Live Space - If that's not a monogamous relationship, I don't know what is.
Or should I say moBLOGamous relationship ;)
I shouldn't?
Fair enough.
Anyway, where was I?
Oh yeah. So I'm not a Blog Whore, but here's what I discovered:
I, Jacki Sarah Trew, am a Laugh Whore.
I am. I really am. Warning, comedians and alike: don't feel too good about yourselves when I laugh at one of your jokes, because I am way loose with the laughter. I give it away too easy. I laugh at pretty much everything - even the stuff you're not supposed to laugh at.
ESPECIALLY the stuff you're not supposed to laugh at. Like, when I was watching this DVD (can you guess which?) commentary last night: all the guy did was say "Cats suck" and I was in hysterics for like, 20 minutes.
...Alright, to be fair, my own cat walking past at that very second while giving me the filthiest look she could muster probably made it a bit funnier.
But still.
So thats it: I'm Jacki Trew, and I'm a laughaholic. (That was for Mum - 'laughaholic' sounds so much more ladylike than 'laugh whore', don't you think?)

Oh, and the DVD commentary? It was Prison Break. Duh.

Dude I don't know what my unconcious-self was smoking last night, but I had some seriously wacked-out dreams, yo.
First off, I dreamed that I was at the airport with Ellen, and my iPod stopped working. Huh. Okay, I guess that one isn't too far-fetched. I mean, it's not as if I haven't broken like, 10 DILLION iPods in my lifetime. I've also been known to visit the airport. And I am friends with Ellen...Let's move on.
Second off (is that a real phrase? I'm not sure), I dreamed that I was one of the characters in Prison Break. I don't remember too much of this dream, except for a scene where I was hiding in a toilet stall, listening to Michael (that's Wentworths character) and Lincoln (that's Dominic Purcell's character) have a massive fight. I remember Lincoln throwing up and running away, and then Michael handing me a green t-shirt over the top of the door and saying "Here, I thought you might like this." Hmmm....Lincoln throwing up was confusing, and I didn't really understand the green t-shirt moment, but seeings as Wentworth is (in one way or another) involved in most of my dreams, I guess this one isn't that weird either.
Right.
I guess the only dream actually strange enough to warrant a blog was the third one, where I sent myself back in time by 4 hours, and then attended a high school formal with my past-self as my date. Oh, my gosh. And I know how crazy this is going to make me sound, but I was like, the best date ever - my past-self and I kept sneaking up on people and sitting on either side of them, then saying the exact same thing at the exact same time...it totally freaked them out!! Hiiilarious!
Sigh.
This is just another one of those times when I (like Emma Gilmore) wish that Hogwarts was actually real, that I actually lived there, and that such magic existed as would actually allow me to date myself.

So it turns out, there is someone more insane than me - this guy:

Donald Earl Fite III, who sought revenge on his ex-girlfriend by stabbing her pet fish to death.
I mean. Who does that? Can...I can't even imagine how that would go down. But yeah, yeah, it happened. And, okay, I haven't even told you the best part: the ex-girlfriend is demanding that he pay for her to get a tattoo of said fish.
In memoriam.
Oh, my gosh. Is this not the funniest thing you have ever heard? For today, at least? And just so you know - no, I didn't go looking for and find this guy on my own. There was an article about it on the ninemsn.com.au website. I'm not THAT big of a weirdo; I only Google-stalk people I like.

Anyway, there are a multitude of things about this guy that kind of totally freak me out - not the least of which is the alarming similarity between his full name and Wentworth Earl Miller III's - but still...it's kind of comforting to know there are crazier crazies than me out there. Yeah, maybe "Craziest Crazy" would be a nice trophy to have, but I'm really not comfortable with stabbing a fish to get it.

And yeah - Wentworth Earl Miller III. I am not even kidding.

Shower Thoughts #33

"Duel" is a tricky word for me.
Is it pronounced like "dwell", or like "jewel"? Or is it neither of those? I need to know because whenever I'm reading and it comes up, I get totally distracted and end up wasting like, 40 minutes pondering over the articulation. Which I suppose wouldn't be that big of a deal, except that I'm re-reading Harry Potter at the moment. Have you ever read Harry Potter? Do you know how often the word "duel" appears in that book? Pretty much every third sentence, that's how often.

Harry braced himself, preparing for the oncoming duel against Malfoy.

It was hard to believe that he had barely been at Hogwarts for 2 months, and Harry had already been challenged to his first duel.

"Hermione?" "Yes Ron?" "Just out of curiosity, how do you pronounce 'duel'?" Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but before she could utter a single word, Lord Voldemort cast a blanket spell that killed every English-speaking human on earth, effectively eliminating the chance of anyone ever finding out the true pronunciation of the word 'duel'.

Alright, one of those isn't entirely accurate. Can you guess which it is? And then tell me how to say 'duel'?

Bearded Lollypop? Genius!

I've started and not finished like 3 different posts in the past 24 hours. I don't know what's going on with me, I'm just having issues committing to any one blog. Am I a blog whore now? This definitely feels like blog-whore-type behavior.

Sigh.

I guess I'm cool with that. Not that there's anything cool about being a whore, but, well, if I was going to be any kind of whore, I suppose Blog Whore would be my first preference. And whoa, this conversation just got way awkward, not only because I just capitalised the word 'whore' (I mean, that just feels wrong to me), but also because my Mum is probably reading this right now and going 'I knew we should have given her up for adoption'.

So, to recap, it's been barely 2 paragraphs and I've already offended:

a) My mother

b) Myself

c) Prostitutes

d) Humanity in general, I'm guessing

Wow. Good day for me.

Anyway as I was saying: 3 unfinished posts in the last day alone. The first was about how much I suck at baking brownies - and I do. I really do. Even if I follow the recipe instructions with exact precision, they always come out of the oven in one of two conditions:

1) Severely undercooked, like, to the point that the only way to consume them is through a straw

2) On fire.

The second was a pointless internal debate over whether Lady Gaga is trying to be Katy Perry, or Katy Perry is trying to be Lady Gaga. I mean, really, who even cares? They're both completely nuts. Whatever. End of story.

The third was the result of a little shameless late-night-surfing-the-archives-of-my-own-blog activity. Yeah, I do that. And good thing I do, because - hello, irony - it gave me something to blog about. Remember this birthday cake Catherine and I made for our friend Daniel a few months back?

Yeah, I know. We are fantastic. Anyway, not the point. The point is, I had several comments on this photo, but not ONE of them was about whats going on in the top right hand corner:

Yeah. That's a bearded lollypop, people. Not only is that hilarious, it's also incredibly strange. I don't know what's going on with you lot; either my readership is way lower than I thought (like, zero), or you've all become so accustomed to my weirdness that a lollypop with facial hair just isn't that big of a deal. Either way, I don't care, because I've just realised that my three previously abandoned blogs are now complete, and I'm off to celebrate with a chocolate icecream and 4 episodes of Prison Break.

Tata!

I was having a pretty slow day, but this excites me: If you go to the website for Drew Barrymore's new movie Whip It, you can enter your name into a generator and recieve your very own Roller-Derby alter-ego. Oh, my gosh - anyone who knows me knows I'm a HUGE fan of alter-egos, with the one exception of Beyonce's Sasha Fierce, who, if I'm honest, gives me the heebie-jeebies. But apart from that. LOVE them.
Anyway, my Roller-Derby name came out as Madame Wheelie-Feelgood. I would ask that you all address me as this from now on. Even better, do you know what my sisters came out as? King Crush. No, really.
King.
Crush.
Oh, man, Whip-It-Website-Roller-Derby-Name-Generator, you don't even know how on the money you are with that one.
Anyway, I should go - there's Greys Anatomy to be watched, chocolate to be eaten and schoolwork to be neglected.
Madame Wheelie-Feelgood - OUT!

Now that Prison Break is over, I feel like our Foxtel providers could cancel every channel on our service except for E! and I would still be totally satisfied. For serious. I am so addicted to almost every show on that channel. Not too addicted though - I learned my lesson with Prison Break; you can't get too attached, because TV shows eventually end, and not all of them are released on DVD.
E! is different though, because it's all harmless idiotic reality shows, and well, long story short, I tend to favour TV that doesn't require a whole lot of brain power these days. Plus, a reality show won't introduce you to the love of your life, string you along for 4 years, then get cancelled and break your heart.

Crap reality shows are great. Not only are they entertaining, but they totally make you feel smarter. Really! Especially that one chronicling the lives of Kim Kardashian's lesser known sisters, Kourtney and Khloe Take Miami. Or as it should be called, Kourtney And Khloe Make Their Living By Hosting A 3-Hour Radio Show Once A Week, Dropping In On Their Family-Owned Clothing Boutique To Boss Around The Employees, And Hosting The Occasional Tranny-Look-Alike Contest.
Oh my goodness that's good television. I love it. And watching them act so stupid makes me feel that much more intelligent! Like Kourtney and her asshole boyfriend, whose name currently escapes me. The two of them are idiots. Idiots. I don't understand why they're even dating; I mean, most of the time, it seems like they don't even like each other. Here's a prime example:

Kourtney: Did you become a member of terror squad?
Kourtney's Asshole Boyfriend: Did you become a member of 'I don't wear shirts that cover my boobs'?

And now they're having a baby together. Yeah. That's going to end well for everyone.

Auntie of the Year

My wireless internet connection isn't working, and it's making me crazy. I mean, more so than usual. But yeah, it's been out for almost a week. I would have blogged about this before now, but um
a) How does one blog without the internet? And
b) I'm extremely busy and important ('Extremely busy and important' here meaning 'A lazy shit')
Yeah. It sucks because the longer I go without internet, the more I want to blog about how annoyed I am that I have no internet. But because I have no internet, I'm unable to blog about how annoyed I am. And that makes me more annoyed - which, in turn, increases my desire to blog. Oh, my gosh. It's a vicious cycle of pointless rage - something I'm not unfamiliar with, as those of you who read this blog on a regular basis might have guessed.

In other news, my sister and I recently had one of our most intelligent and meaningful conversations to date:

Jacki: Dude, how freaky is it that one of us is probably going to have a kid some day?
Catherine: Totally.

Ha! Really though, is anyone else kind of terrified for my sisters' hypothetical future offspring? If my childhood memories are anything to go by, they're all getting helmets for their first birthdays. And some advice: Kids, if you're allergic to anything, don't fall asleep in your mothers' presence.
Jacki Trew - future Auntie of the Year.

Taco VS Taco

I never feel more simultaneously delighted and enraged than when I am eating a taco.
Let's be honest - tacos are pretty flippin' awesome. First of all there's the name. Taco. I mean, that's hilarious on its own. And then there's the contents; corn chips, meat, chili, vegetables, cheese...it's like every food group in one meal! One delicious meal, I might add. Yeah they're not that healthy, they've got that weird vaginal connotation, and if you eat just one too many, you risk spending the night hunched over a toilet, but still...I just can't seem to resist.

On the other hand, though.
Who invented the taco? Who was it? Huh? Huh? I only want to know so that I can hunt them down and smack their bottom, because seriously. Is there anything harder to eat than a taco? I say there isn't. Whenever I see one, I'm overcome with elation and desire and a mouthful of saliva, and at the same time, I know that buying/eating it is only going to end badly. I don't know what it is - the sharpness of the shell combined with the soggyness of the meat? The weird shape? The fact that I possess an unnatural determination to talk and eat at the same time? - but I swear, there is no way to eat a taco without:
a) Spilling on myself
b) Spilling on someone else
c) Spilling on both myself and someone else
d) Choking to death

So here are my thoughts...someone should invent the Bite-Sized Taco. Like a regular taco, except that the corn chip is a hollow enclosed sphere, and all the other ingredients are mixed together inside. Size-wise, it should be large enough that one can really appreciate all the different flavours and textures, but small enough that I won't choke to death should I choose to swallow it whole. Right? Right?!
Yeah. Someone should invent that. And by 'someone', I of course mean 'steal my idea and suffer my wrath, bitches'.
The Bite-Sized Taco - coming soon to an unlicensed truck-stop diner near you!

How On Earth Did I Make It Through High School?

Holy crap, am I on a blogathon today or what? Well, whatever. Not the point.
I was just going through some of my old school notes, you know, seeing what I could throw away, and I came across a class assignment that I'd written for English Extension 1, on the subject of The Bronte Family.
...Yeah. This is - and I kid you not - a direct quote:

"Anyway, the only cool thing about The Bronte Family is that they must have been on drugs or something, because Beth and I figured out that the mother, whose name was Maria, had two children called Maria and Elizabeth, and they had an aunt called Elizabeth, who was Maria's sister, and she also had a child called Maria, who had two children called Maria and Elizabeth. I mean, no one who is not on pot is stupid enough to name that many people in their family Maria and Elizabeth. Right?"

Oh man.
I'm awesome.

The Advantages Of Sleeping Naked

Today, against my better judgement, I sat down and watched a Kendra marathon. For those of you not lame enough to be addicted to the E! Channel, Kendra (Wilkinson) is one of Hugh Hefner's ex-girlfriends. Other than that, who is she? What has she done to be famous? Why does she have her own TV show? I have no idea.
Anyway like I said, I've been watching this show pretty much all day. I'm still not sure how I feel about it; it fills me with equal parts amusement and disgust. The best part is Kendra's laugh. It's so manic and loud and mannish, it makes me feel a little better about having my own crazy style of laughter. The worst part is the closing credits. Oh, the closing credits. They are so bad. So so bad. They make me want to tear out my own eyes and eat them. Or have the skin slowly peeled from my face. Or stab myself in the neck with a sharpened carrot. I think, honestly, I think performing open heart surgery on myself would be less painful than watching the Kendra closing credits. They are that bad. Basically it's Kendra, dressed in several different outfits, shaking her groove thing to some horrible custom-made theme song. It's the outfits that get me; they're all regular clothes, and then one is a golf outfit. What? Why? Why is this woman wearing a golf outfit? Does she play golf? Does she like golf? Does she know what golf is? I watched at least 6 hours of this show today, and didn't see anything that would allow me to answer any of those questions with a yes.
Sigh.
One thing I found really confusing was when Kendra and her fiance moved into their new house, and they had a stripper pole installed in the middle of the living room. Now, I'm all for a good stripper pole...but, in the middle of the living room? Seriously?? That can't be convienient. This thing goes from floor to ceiling, yo. What happens if you get up in the middle of the night needing a glass of water? I don't know about anyone else, but I just know 9 times out of 10, I'd coathanger myself on that bad boy trying to avoid it in the dark. On the other hand though, they probably both have dynamite abs.

On a completely different note, my sister recently bought a new car. Or new-old car, I suppose is the correct term, since it's second-hand. Or actually third-hand. It was our older sister's husband's first, then our brother's, and now it's hers. Now that's what I call keeping it in the family. Maybe one day it'll be mine. You know, if I ever quit running over cops for long enough to get my license. Ahh, probably not.
Anyway, Catherine must have been in a good mood on the day she brought it home, since she allowed me to name it. Him. His name is Marley - after Bob Marley, not the dog from that Jennifer Aniston movie. Here's how I came up with it:
The number plate is BEN-469
BEN is short for BENJAMIN
If you take the BEN out of BENJAMIN, you get JAMIN
JAMMIN' is a song by BOB MARLEY
If you take the BOB out of BOB MARLEY, you get MARLEY
Get it?

Okay, back to Kendra. One of Kendra's dumbass playboy bunny friends just made probably the smartest comment I have ever heard in my life:

Dumbass Playboy Bunny Friend: I could never sleep naked. I just think about robbers. I don't wanna be naked when a robber comes in - I need to get the f*** out of there!!

Hahaha. So true. In my case though, I think being naked would actually work to my advantage. Like, I think for a robber, seeing my bare butt would be more frightening than seeing me holding a cricket bat like a weapon, or calling the cops, or whatever. Yeah! Forget home security systems, I'm just gonna run around naked all the time!
Ha. Oh, man. I'm such an idiot.

How do you spell 'Totally Awesome'? P-A-R-K-L-I-F-E

So hey, Park Life happened this weekend.
I'm not hugely experienced with the whole music festival thing, but I still feel pretty confident in putting it out there that this was the most freakin' fantastic festival ever. No, you know what? I'm gonna go a step further; it was the most freakin' fantastic day ever, music festival or not.
Anyway...I was going to do a total play-by-play - you know, recount the whole thing for you in detail - but then I remembered that I'm the laziest person in the universe, and I'd much rather waste my time reading OK!, or watching that reality show about the Kardashian family. So you'll have to make do with the highlights. In point form.

• Waking up an hour late thanks to daylight saving. Huh? What? Who knew it was daylight saving? Everyone except me, apparently. And Cecil, who rang to ask, in a slightly panicked voice "Dude, does your clock say it's 20 to 9 too?"
• Starting the day with a healthy and nutritious breakfast of potato salad and tequila. Our parents would be so proud.
• Two words: La Roux. Or is that one word? Since it's technically her name...well, whatever, that's not important. The point is, watch out Alex Kerr - you've now got serious competition for the title of 'Jacki Trew's Favourite Ranga'.
• Cecil trying to speed up the entry process by pretending I was pregnant:
  
  Cecil: (Yelling and pushing through the crowd) Hey! Move! Where's the pregnancy line?
  Random Girl: (Looking at me) Are you pregnant? Ohhhhhh, devo.
  
  Hahaha. I am not even kidding. The best part was that despite clearly being stoned out of her mind, she sounded totally sincere. Like, she actually believed I was pregnant. And she was actually devo about it.
• A brief wave of nausea that hit at around 2pm, reminding us that tequila shots before 10am are never a good idea. Well, lesson learned.
• Getting lifted up on some guys shoulders at Busy P, one of whom had just re-pierced his own tongue with a random chicks belly-button ring. Yeah, at first I was like "Whoa, hardcore", but the more I thought about it, I was like "Whoa, unhygenic".
• Getting accosted by a drunken Frenchman who accidentally burned Gemma's thigh with the butt of his cigarette before announcing his plan to create some sort of bionic woman using Elle's face, Gemma's legs and my upper body.
• Empire Of The Sun pausing mid-set to have some sort of insane asthma attack. Seriously. For two minutes, it was just silence and heavy breathing. I think it was actually part of the performance, but it sure sounded weird. Like, the guy next to me turned to ask "Do you think he has emphysema?"
• The closing performance: La Roux. Yeah, I know I already talked about her. So sue me - she was so flippin' crazy-good, she deserves two dot points. I don't even know how to describe how good she was. Even 'disco fabulous' doesn't cover it. My favourite part was the bass, which was so heavy you could actually feel your organs rattling around in your chest. I remember thinking to myself "I'm probably having a heart attack right now but I don't care; this would be such a cool way to die." Ha.

And so on. The whole Cecil/Stoned Chick/Pregnancy Line thing took out "Moment of the Day", until the very end of the night, when Elle, Gem and Mischa dropped me home, and while walking up my pitch-black front path, I was attacked by a bat. Classic.

Octoberfest

It's officially October, yo! You know what that means?

• 3 months til Christmas
• 6 months til my birthday
• 9 months til Wentworth's birthday
• 12 months til the wedding

Ha. Okay, obviously that last one is a bit of a fabrication - I couldn't possibly plan my perfect wedding in just 12 months. Plus everyone knows I want to get married in Summer, not Spring.
Anyway, yeah, it's October, and I've decided to celebrate by adding a new feature to my blog...just scroll down and look to your right for "Greatest Hits", a compilation of (what I believe to be) my best posts to date. Really, just dynamite stuff.
Paramount? No
Pointless? Yes
Entertaining? Well...that's up to you guys.

Welcome Home Gemmy!!

So, Gemma got home from America today.
Hooray! Huzzah! H...appy days!
I don't think I've ever been more excited, except for maybe the time Julia and I saw Beyonce, or when they came out with a new flavour of Mother.
But, yeah, great day. Even despite the fact that I was crudely awakened by the sound of my alarm clock this morning, and had to drag myself out of bed and into Elle's car and drive (well, get driven) to the airport, all before 6:30am (6:30 am. Like, my usual bedtime). It was worth it, just to see Gemma's sweet mug for the first time in 3 and a half months. Oh, and also because the whole process of getting to the airport/finding the right terminal/waiting for Gemma might just have been the funniest experience of my life:

(Entering the airport)
Ellen: So does anyone know which terminal she's arriving in?
Em and Jacki: Nope
Ellen: Her flight number?
Em and Jacki: Nope
Ellen: Okay how about where she's flying in from?
Em: Oh! Oh! I know! America!
Jacki: Yeah but where in America? I mean, it's a pretty big place, right?

Haha. Right? We sound so smart. Oh, and like really great friends, too:

(Sitting in the terminal)
Ellen: How long has it been?
Em: Like...
Jacki: 20 minutes?
Em: Longer than that!
Jacki: Really?
Ellen: I could have slept in!
Em: And I need to pee!
Jacki: If she's not here in 20 minutes, we're just taking a random home.

Don't worry, we didn't actually kidnap any randoms from the airport - we came pretty close, but Gem turned up just in time to stop us. Anyway, then we drove home and cooked bacon and eggs, watched Buffy while wearing Hooters t-shirts, debated the pros and cons of sleeping naked, marvelled over the fact that we were:
a) Awake before 10 in the morning
b) Eating a proper cooked breakfast
c) Actually dressed while doing so
Huh?? Huh?? That's like the trifecta!! I don't think I've ever hit that before!! I felt so grown up for a moment. Then somebody made a joke about chocolate vaginas, and I turned back into a teenager. Oh well.

So all in all, it was shaping up to be a pretty kick-ass day...until I got home and developed the worst head-ache known to man, which I'm not going to talk about because I don't want to poison this otherwise delightful post - except to say that it feels like a thousand miniature elephants are living inside my skull, and they're all taking a dump at the same time.
Oh, yeah. Ouch.

For those of you not lame enough to be reading Perez Hilton on a Sunday morning, RottenTomatoes.com has just released their list of the "Worst 100 Movies Of The Last Decade". I'd love to type them all out for you to read, I really would, but I'm afraid it might damage my reputation as Laziest Person On Earth. So you're just getting the top 10:

10. Witless Protection (2008)

9. Redline (2007)

8. 3 Strikes (2000)

7. Strange Wilderness (2008)

6. Superbabies: Baby Geniuses 2 (2004)

5. National Lampoon's Gold Diggers (2004)

4. King's Ransom (2005)

3. Pinnochio (2002)

2. One Missed Call (2008)

1. Ballistic: Eks VS Sever (2002)

Huh. Okay. I think a more accurate title would have been "Most Obscure 100 Movies Of The Last Decade". Or maybe "Worst 100 Movies Of The Last Decade, Out Of All The Movies That Nobody Has Ever Seen Or Heard Of". Seriously. Has anyone seen any of these? Or even heard about them? Because I sure haven't, and let me tell you, I'm no stranger to shitty movies. I've seen ALL the Bring It On sequels, AND Deck Dogz - twice. Hell, I actually OWN Wrong Turn on DVD.
Still, this list totally disappoints. And not just because they made fun of The Celestine Prophecy starring Sarah Wayne Callies, who I love since she played the role of drug-addicted-doctor-possessing-the-ability-to-come-back-from-the-dead-slash-Wentworth-Miller's-love-interest on Prison Break (did you really think I could get through an entire post without mentioning Wentworth? Did you? Did you?). So, in turn, I decided to make my own list, which I like to call:

BEST 10 Movies Of The Last Decade, Out Of All The Movies That Nobody Has Ever Seen Or Heard Of
(Yeah. BEST. Because unlike the people at Rotten Tomatoes, I'm a glass-half-full kind of girl)

10. Drop Dead Gorgeous (1999)

I'm not sure if this movie is supposed to be dramatic or a satire, but Kirsten Dunst tapdancing down a highway will entertain me any day of the week.

9. Boogeyman (2005)

This movie is crazy-stupid. Plus I think 'boogeyman' is actually a spelling error. But it stars Emily Deschanel and the older brother from 7th Heaven, and I just can't resist.

8. One Night The Moon (2001)

Try to not be entertained by this movie. Just try. Can I get an 'amen', Roseville College class of 2007?

7. I'll Always Know What You Did Last Summer (2006)

Ah yes, the little known sequel to the sequel (to the sequel?), starring none of the original actors and following none of the original plotlines; that ALWAYS spells good movie.

6. Empire Records (1995)

Okay I know 1995 is technically outside the realms of 'last decade', but who can resist a young Liv Tyler, or Robin Tunney with a shaved head?

5. Black Sheep (2006)

Ill-educated farm-hands with Kiwi accents getting attacked by rabid animals and turning against each other to see who can rape the most sheep before they all die a horrible, horrible death? Classic!!

4. He Died With A Felafel In His Hand (2001)

Okay, confession: I've never actually seen this movie. But with a title like that, you just KNOW it's gonna be good.

3. Teeth (2007)

Oh my gosh. A girl born with a full set of fanny-fangs, who turns her life of celibacy around in order to become a rapist-killer? This is female-empowerment at it's best.

2. Wrong Turn (2003)

Hot guys, sexual references, amazing scenery, three-fingered inbred mutants...What's not to like?

1. The Human Stain (2003)

I could talk about this movie for days, but in order to save time, I'm going to sum it up for you in two words: Shirtless. Wentworth.

Happy viewing!!

Since we haven't bothered to do it yet, let's talk about the crazy weather this week.

Oh and yeah. When I say 'talk about the crazy weather this week', what I really mean is 'listen to me rant about Wednesday morning's insane orange dust storm/fog storm/dust fog/WHATEVER THE HELL THAT WAS for, like, 3 paragraphs'. Ready?

So alright. Did anyone else wake up at 5:30 in the morning, peer out the window and react like this:

Haha. Okay, obviously I'm kidding; I didn't really scream. Also I'm not a chimp. At least, physically I'm not. Mentally? Well...that's another story. Anyway, not the point. The point is, while I may not have morphed into a primate and shrieked the house down, my reaction was still pretty intense. Well, intense might be a bit strong - it was dramatic. Well, dramatic might be a bit strong - it was...okay you know what? I'll let you decide for yourselves.

Jacki Trew's Thought Process Upon Waking On Wednesday Morning:
"Huh. I guess the sky's orange today."
Then...
"Holy crap! The sky's orange today!"
Then...
"It's probably a fire or something."
Then...
"Or maybe I really am crazy."
Then...
"Or maybe the world is ending."
Then...
"Holy crap! The world is ending!"
Then...
"Eh. I had a good run."

Ha. Wow. I kind of totally sound like an idiot. On the other hand, though, it's really quite impressive that my mind was able to conjure so many words at such an early hour. I mean, 5:30? In the morning? As a rule, I generally don't do ANY thinking at 5:30 in the morning. And if I do, it's not about the end of the world. It's about this:

Oh, my. Alright, signing off. I've got some "thinking" to do.

Welcome home, Chate. Here's what you missed:

If you didn't already know, my sister ran off to Bali or Singapore or Hong Kong or, well, some country with at least one coastline a couple of weeks ago, once again leaving me completely alone with our parents and no buffer. But that's not important. The important thing is that she'll finally be home in a couple of hours, and it's up to me, her worldly, educated, eloquent and insightful younger sister, to fill her in on what's been happening in her absence.
Oh yeah, baby.
And yes, I could have, probably should have done this in private, but I decided to publish it in a public forum because last time I did a 'Welcome home, Chate. Here's what you missed', her response was this:

Catherine: That was the most disturbing thing I have ever read.

Well.
I don't know about you guys, but when regular people say 'disturbing', I hear 'hilarious'. And hilarity is meant to be shared. So here goes. Welcome home, Chate. Here's what you missed:

Okay first of all don't ask me for Home and Away updates, because I've hardly watched it since you left. What? Huh? Haven't watched it since you left?! It sounds insane, I know, and it is, but so am I, and other than that, I don't have an explanation. All I can give you is that Miles finally found out about Nicole and Sid, flipped his lid and pushed Sid into a pool, there's a new kid called Romeo in town, and that rapist dude who supposedly fathered Ruby got stabbed to death. Gasp! Whodunnit? I can honestly say I don't care.
In other TV/celebrity news, Anthony won Project Runway, Kanye West totally lost his shit at the VMA's, I discovered an awesome horror/comedy called The Signal, Lady Gaga bled to death on stage, Crazy-Eyes-Casey was eliminated from Idol, Kevin Rudd dropped the f-bomb in parliament, I almost completely finished the TV-Guide crossword TWICE, and America's Next Top Model was so boring I fell asleep during panel.
Some dude from Harris came to give all our computers a once-over and in what has to be the most baffling discovery ever, found that MINE was actually the least totally-f'ed-by-viruses-slash-illegally-downloaded-music. Guess who's was the worst? I'll give you a clue: her name starts with C, and ends with E. Oh, and you see her face every morning when you look in the mirror.
Can you guess? Can you guess? Never mind, I'll just say: It's you.
Once the internet was restored, Mum got onto my blog, read it, laughed and then lectured me for 10 minutes on how un-lady-like it is to invite those who don't agree with my opinion on red-heads to "suck my dick". Well, whatever.
Hmm, what else? I finally bought clear nailpolish that isn't equal in consistency to maple syrup. Yay for me! Julia and I saw Beyonce live. Yayer for me!
Someone switched Dad's phone to predictive text and he completely freaked out and got all flustered everytime he tried to message someone: "Why can't I type 'cheque'? No, I typed all the letters and it just came out as a huge jumble. How do I fix this stupid thing? CAN SOMEBODY HELP ME?!"
Hahaha. That was awesome.
We lost netball but it was a good game - I didn't trip over anyone, or even myself, not once. We had a picnic at college. I saw a guy that looked like Voldemort on the bus. Vandy went out to dinner for Casey and Lauren's birthday. I bought a new shirt. One day it was so hot, I actually went for a swim in the pool; it was kind of freezing and short-lived once I remembered how afraid I am of pool-sharks, but nice all the same. Rove turned 10, I spent an awkward coffee break trying to explain the actual meaning of the word 'douche' to half my class on friday and, oh yeah, I'M READY TO DIE BECAUSE WE GOT PRISON BREAK SEASON 4 ON DVD!!!
And on that note, I'll have to stop. I can't even write the words 'Prison', 'Break', or 'DVD' without being overcome with the need to hit play and stare into Wentworth's eyes for a solid 40 minutes and 32 seconds - if you want to know more, you're just going to have to ask me.
Later!!

Shower Thoughts #32

How old is Hugh Hefner?

WARNING: The following post is offensive/not suitable for old people

So, you know how I am totally age-ist? Like, I don't exactly have the best relationship with old people?
Well it turns out they don't like me so much either!
I was getting on the bus yesterday afternoon with Charlotte and Lucinda, and we sat down in the four-seater with an old lady. For those of you that don't catch buses and therefore have no idea what a four-seater is, here's a diagram:

As in, we are facing each other.
Anyway, as soon as the three of us sat down, the Old Bag make this huge show of being annoyed, rolling her eyes and staring out the window and making this weird 'UGGHH' noise.
...
Um...What?! Come on lady, it's a bus - if you don't wanna sit next to someone, then don't sit down! I didn't even touch her, nor did any of the ten thousand bags I cart to and from college every friday, and still she makes this massive deal out of having to share the four-seater with us.
Bitch, please - if anyone should be upset, it should be me, about having to sit next to you.
Haha alright, that was a bit mean. But she started it!

Huh. Here's a thought I just had: In like 80 years or whatever, when I'm an old person, am I going to pay myself out or mentally punch myself in the face every time I walk past a mirror?
Because that would be hilarious.

Jacki VS Teacher: Awkward Moment #2

Tom: (Jokingly) Celyna got stabbed!
Jacki: (Turning in surprise) What?!
Celyna: No, I just pricked myself with a pin

(5 minutes later)

Tom: Hey Celyna, is it possible to get expelled from FBI?
Celyna: I don't think so. You'd have to do something pretty bad
Jacki: What if I stabbed you for real? Like, for real
(silence)
Celyna: I...I think you'd be in a bit more trouble than just getting expelled
Jacki: Oh, okay. I'll try to hold back then
(Tom laughs. Celyna looks totally freaked out. Gold)

I definitely wasn't ready for that jelly

Prepare yourselves for the blog of the century people, because this one's about yesterday and last night and the fact that JULIA AND I WERE IN THE SAME ROOM AS BEYONCE FOR, LIKE, 4 HOURS!
Ohhhh my gosh.
Alright give me a moment, I don't think I'm over it yet.
...
Okay, moments over.
Seriously though, I can't think of one bad thing about last night. It was awesome, epic, amazing, fabulous, disco fabulous, right from the very beginning. The very beginning. Mainly because the very beginning involved a conversation with my Dad that went something like this:

Dad: Are you going out?
Jacki: Yep
Dad: Where you going?
Jacki: Beyonce
Dad: (Pause) Beyonce?!
Jacki: ...Yeah
Dad: You're going to see Beyonce??
Jacki: ...Yeah
Dad: You're going to see Beyonce...Live??
Jacki: I surely am
Dad: Oh! I knew you were going but I didn't know it was tonight. Oh how fabulous! I'm so jealous!

...Huh. I'm not really sure what to think about that. Nor what I'm more disturbed about: Dad's casual use of the word 'fabulous', or the fact that he may have been more excited about Beyonce than I was - and make no mistake, I was pretty flippin' excited.
Anyway.
A quick drive and two train rides later Julia and I arrived at Olympic Park, and entered the arena to the sound of what? Who? Oh, only Jessica Mauboy.
Oh yeah - Jessica Mauboy.
Sweet niblets! Who even knew she was coming? I surely didn't! And judging by Julia's reaction, neither did she:





Ha. Julia loves Jessica Mauboy. Can you tell? I'm no die-hard fan, but let me tell you, the girl can sing. And rock a pair of thigh-high boots like nobody's business.
It was during JM's performance that we noticed a guy several rows in front of us, who will hereforth be referred to as 'Crazy Dancing Guy'. I don't think I need to explain what he was doing - the name does it for me. But yeah, he was rocking out. Maybe harder than I've ever seen anyone rock out. Ha.
Okay so the next supporting act was Flo Rida. Here is my favourite moment from that performance:



(Guy comes on stage and everyone cheers)
"Flo Rida": What's up Sydneeeeyyyy?
Sydney: Woooooo!
"Flo Rida": Sydney I wanna get excited and I need you to help me out, so can you do that? When I say 'Flo', you say 'Rida'. FLO!
Sydney: RIDA!
"Flo Rida": FLO!
Sydney: RIDA!
"Flo Rida": When I say 'Rida', you say 'Flo'. RIDA!
Sydney: FLO!
"Flo Rida": RIDA!
Sydney: FLO!
"Flo Rida": Alright now Sydney, give it up, for FLO RIDAAAAAAA!
(Julia and I turn to each other with confused looks on our faces and I kid you not, at the same time both said:)
Jacki: Oh! I thought that guy -
Julia: Isn't he Flo Rida?
Man We Thought Was "Flo Rida" But Actually Turned Out To Just Be Some Random: Here he is, Sydney. FLO RIDAAAAAA!
(The real Flo Rida comes out on stage and the whole crowd goes wild - except for Julia and I because we're still laughing at each other.)
Jacki: (Between hysterics) This is so going on my blog!

Aha. That might have been the best moment of my life.
Oh, until an hour or so later, when Beyonce came on stage. I'm not going to describe the whole concert in a play-by-play fashion because honestly, my sub-standard writing just won't do it justice. But I will give you my favourite moments:

• The dedication to Michael Jackson
• Julia and I talking about how hot the Lenny-Kravitz-looking guitar player was for like 10 minutes, and then realising it was a woman
• Beyonce's legs

And I'm going to stop there, because if I don't, this post will never end. Basically though? Beyonce is the female Wentworth. And that's all I have to say about that.

81 hours of Wentworth

PRISON BREAK SEASON 4!!
PRISON BREAK SEASON 4!!
PRISON BREAK SEASON 4!!
I got it! I got it! I got it!

Ohh my gosh. I officially own every episode of Prison Break ever made. Plus all the deleted scenes and audio commentaries and special featurettes AND the speical movie-length episode they made to conclude the entire series.
...
Has anyone anywhere ever been this happy? I don't think so. Well, Edward Cullen on his wedding day maybe. But apart from that, no! Seriously, just throw me in my coffin now with these DVDs and I'll die a happy woman. And yeah, I realise that apart from Chate and Milky Nips, I'm pretty much the only person that watches/cares about Prison Break, but I'm so freaking beatific that I just don't give a shit.
WENTWORTH WENTWORTH WENTWORTH!!!

Phillip Trew: King of Tangents

Oh, my gosh, my Dad is insane.
I can't talk to him! I really can't! It makes me crazy! See, because it's actually impossible to have a normal conversation with Phillip Trew. You can't ask him a single question without sending him on some rambling 10-minute tangent that has nothing to do with anything. Like this afternoon for instance:

Jacki: If you worked at a circus, would you rather be a lion tamer or a trapeze artist?

Okay, lets pause for a second, because I know that sounds like a really random thing to ask. But I have this weird fixation with playing 'Would you rather...?', especially with my parents because they get really freaked out by some of the questions I come up with, and it's hilarious. Anyway, back to the conversation...

Jacki: If you worked at a circus, would you rather be a lion tamer or a trapeze artist?
Mum: Lion tamer
Dad: Do circuses even exist anymore?
Jacki: Sure, there's Cirque du Soleil
Dad: But do they have lion tamers?
Jacki: You know, probably not. Nobody wants to pay money to see some guy getting mauled by a lion - if you want to see that, just turn on the TV.
Dad: Yeah, I saw that on TV the other day!
Jacki: What, a guy getting mauled by a lion?
Dad: Yes!
Jacki: (Baffled) What were you watching?
WARNING: TANGENT STARTING...
Dad: Well it was when we were in Perth, you know. The first place we stayed at had a nice TV, and it had...what channels did it have? Win, GWin, Channel 10 and ABC. The next place we stayed, in a town called Pemberton, it had those channels and the Foxtel sports channels too. Then we went to a place called...

See, that's when I tuned out. I kind of just stared into space for the next 15 minutes (15 minutes - who talks about hotel TV services for 15 minutes??!!) while Dad rambled on and on and on about who knows what, then came back to this:

Dad: And the last place we stayed at was a 5 star resort, but I wouldn't have given it 5 stars. The only thing in the room beside the bed was a chair. And the TV was so old! Usually in 5 star resorts they have a plasma or a flat-screen, but not this place, no...

Off he went again. Oh my gosh. Luckily, he didn't seem to realise that I had completely checked out. To be honest, I probably could have left the room and it wouldn't have stopped him. In situations like these, there's only one way to shut my Dad up; you have to shock him into silence, then run away as fast as you can, before he starts up again:

Dad: ...so because there was only one chair in the room, and your mother took it, I had nowhere to sit, so I had to -
Jacki: Hey Dad, would you rather eat the cat or the dog? And imagine if you don't eat at least one of them, Mum and I will both die.
Dad: (Pause) What?!
Jacki: Gotta go! (Runs off)

Oh yeah. Works every time.

Okay, I've kept my mouth shut about this for a while, but try as I might, I can't restrain myself any longer.

I need to vent about my issues with 5 Chewing Gum.

First of all, what's with the flavours? Cobalt? Electro? Flare?
What is this insanity? Are those names actually supposed to be appealing? Because they're not! Here's what I think when I hear them:
Electro - It's like chewing on a live extension cord!
Flare - It's like eating embers straight out of the BBQ!
Cobalt - It's a colour, not a flavour!

Also, lets talk about the commercial. I don't know about anyone else, but it gave me the clear impression that chewing 5 Gum would feel like riding the worlds most insane rollercoaster. Yeah, that's what I got. So as you can imagine, I was pretty flippin' excited.
And pretty flippin' disappointed. Chewing 5 Gum isn't like riding the worlds most insane rollercoaster. It's not like riding any kind of rollercoaster. You want to know what it's like?
It's like chewing gum.
That tastes faintly of extension cords.
No, I'm only kidding. It actually just tastes like regular peppermint. But the thing about it not feeling like riding a rollercoaster is completely true. It's no more exciting than regular chewing gum. In fact, it may be less exciting than regular gum.

Anyway, that's it. Don't buy 5 Chewing Gum! You've all been warned.

Alex Kerr: A Dedication

So.
Continuing once again in my tradition of dedicating posts to seemingly random people on their birthdays, here is a post dedicated to Alex Kerr. In honour of her birthday.


Alex. Alex Kerr. Alex Anne Kerr.
Alex Anne Kerr, or as I refer to her, Alex Alex, is quite a cool person. Of course, when I say 'quite a cool person', what I really mean is 'legendary, absolutely legendary, so much so that I often wish my own sister would swap places with her'.
But, you know. I don't want to appear too obsessed.
Right. Here's the deal: Alex Alex became friends with my sister (Catherine, who you guys know, you've been there) in like, Kindergarten. So, about a hundred years ago. But when did I meet Alex Alex? You know what, I can't remember. I gave up that memory to make space for Journey lyrics and mental images of Wentworth Miller's face. Whatever, the important thing is, we met. We met, we talked, we laughed, we established that I was insane and she was relatively normal but able to tolerate me, and a beautiful friendship was formed.
There are alot of great things about Alex Alex. Foremost is that she has red hair. Oh yeah, she has red hair. She's a Ranga. I love Rangas. Everyone does. Even people who say they don't. If someone says to you "I hate Rangas", you just know they're lying. It's impossible to hate a Ranga - and why would you? They're so funny. They blush so easily, they usually have freckles, they get sunburn if they're exposed to sunlight for more than 45 seconds...plus, let's face it, the word Ranga is just plain fun to say. Shame on you people who pretend to hate Rangas! Shame on you! They do nothing but provide us with laughter and joy and someone to make fun of! Oh my gosh, how long have I been talking about this? Okay, enough about Rangas. Let's just conclude by saying they are awesome and hilarious and anyone who thinks otherwise can suck my dick.
Okay, I don't have a dick. Man, I am getting way off topic here!
More about Alex Alex:
Her birthday is today. The 8th of September. You know who else has a birthday today? Pink. And the kid who did the voice of Simba in The Lion King. So that's exciting. For her.
Alex drives a little blue car. She drove it to my house yesterday - she said the reason was to return our stereo system which she borrowed for her 21st party, but I'm pretty sure that was just an excuse to come visit me. Actually, speaking of her 21st party, it was like 3 days ago. I got her a pretty kick-ass present. Oh, and I wrote her a pretty kick-ass card. Well, I thought it was kick-ass; her family didn't seem to agree. I'll let you guys judge for yourselves:


Alex Alex,

Happy Birthday, homeskillet! And I love you! THIS much! If you were 6 inches taller, 16 years older and covered in tattoos, I would do you. Oh hey, you know what? Since it's your birthday, I'll do you anyway. EVEN THOUGH you didn't invite me to your party and I practically had to have your gift smuggled in. Whatever. I'll be hosting my own party for you tonight...it's in my pants. Feel free to drop by.

By the way, I'm totally kidding. Still, inappropriate lesbian jokes aside, I really do think you might be one of the coolest people I know - and not JUST because you read my blog on a semi-regular basis. Although that is a large part of it.

Happy birthday, dude. Xxx Jacki


Kick-ass, right? Apparently her parents now think I'm a lesbian. What?! Hello, I said inappropriate lesbian jokes. As in, I'm joking! Plus, you would think the fact that the front of the card looked like this would throw them off:

Well, whatever.
Alex likes Harry Potter. More than Twilight. I know she hasn't actually seen or read The Twilight Series, but I honestly don't know how that's possible. I mean yeah Harry Potter is epic, but Twilight has Rob Pattinson, who is second only to Wentworth Miller on the Jacki-Trew-Hotness-Scale. Well, to each their own I suppose.
Alex is pretty smart. She's taught me lots of cool shit over the years, like where Glasgow is, and why you should never drink four glasses of champagne in a row. More recently, she taught me about Silent Library, this totally ace Japanese game show which involves people physically maiming themselves in public libraries and having to remain completely silent while doing so. I recommend it to all of you. Oh, she also taught me not to eat liquor chocolates before driving, because you can actually get drunk on them. Well, drunk enough to lose your license at least.
Speaking of getting drunk, Alex has a brother. That segue might seem completely random, but there are seven people who attended a post-Greenwich Village Games cocktail party at my house last december, and all of them can attest to the fact that it very much isn't. That is a story for another day, but yes, Alex has a brother. Robbie. Robert. Rob. Bob. Whatever. I don't know his middle name, so I'm going to make one up: Bertrand. Ha! So, Alex has a brother. Robert Bertrand Kerr. He's my friend too, although I think he finds my insanity tiresome at times. Still, he's also quite cool - it must run in their family. We've had some good times, like one night when we watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre and I got so scared I almost crapped myself. Which I know doesn't sound like such a good time, but as horrible as it is, there's something strangely hilarious about that movie. So yeah, this is my shout-out to Robbie, even though I sincerely doubt he will ever find it - he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who sits around Googling stuff like 'Celebrity Doppelganger Theory' or 'Shower Thoughts' or 'Jacki Trew + Wentworth Miller'.
Still. Robbie! What's up dude?

Alright, what's next? Actually, I might end it here. This post is getting pretty flippin' epic - any longer and I'll be crossing into stalker territory. And that's an area I save specifically for Wentworth.
So, in conclusion:
Alex = cool
Wentworth = hot
Jacki = crazy
This post = pointless
But Happy Birthday, Alex. And please tell your family that I'm not a lesbian.
Love, Jacki.

Is Black Hawk Down the best movie EVER?

So today, when I was done lying on the bathroom floor wrapped around the toilet (more about that later), I decided to watch Black Hawk Down.
Which isn't really so weird, I guess. What's weird is that, before today, I'd never seen Black Hawk Down.
I don't know why. It seems to be one of those movies that everyone has seen. You know, like Love Actually. Or Grease. Oh man, I love Grease. Anyway I'm totally dev that I hadn't seen it before now, because here's something I learned while watching Black Hawk Down:

Black Hawk Down is the best movie EVER

Well, alright. That's a pretty dramatic thing to say. So maybe it's not the best movie ever (I mean it's pretty hard to compete against stuff like Moulin Rouge and Tropic Thunder, and you know the only way Dirty Dancing will get knocked out of first place is if someone actually makes a film about Wentworth and I getting married) but still.

I was suitable impressed. And not just because the entire cast seemed to be made up of my own personal former celebrity crushes. Let's recap, shall we?

• Orlando Bloom
• Eric Bana
• Ewan McGregor
• Josh Harnett
• That guy from Fantastic Four

Oh, AND William Fichner, who I love because he has totally crazy eyes, and because he was in Prison Break with My One And Only.
So, add all of that to the fact that there's gunfire and explosions AND hilarious haircuts, and you've got yourself a pretty kick-ass movie. But I decided to upgrade it from kick-ass to best movie EVER? because right in the middle, I had this epiphany:

Wentworth Miller knows William Fichtner
William Fichtner knows Eric Bana
Eric Bana knows Jacki Trew

Right? Right??
The moment I formed that connection...well, I honestly wish you all could have been there. It was explosively insane. Even by my standards.

Quote Of The Day

"If there's one thing no girl can resist, it's a stripper pole."

- Holly Madison, former playmate and girlfriend of Hugh Hefner

Um, yeah. I respectfully disagree.

Jacki Vs Teacher: Awkward Moment #1

Jacki: (Presenting Celyna, my college teacher, with a half finished corset-bra) Celyna! What do you think? Do you like it? Do you love it? Are you going to wear it to your wedding?
Celyna: (Looking faintly disturbed) It's good. But no, I don't think so.
Jacki: Oh. Well, can I wear it to your wedding?
Celyna: Jacki, you aren't invited to my wedding (Walks away)

(Pause)

Jacki: Well. That sucks for me.

Wow. It's been almost 2 seconds since I last blogged - better get on that.
Ok, so three things:
1) Anyone trying to contact me on Facebook, sorry, but my computer is going through some phase where it refuses to open that particular website. Everything else is fine, but Facebook is a definite no-no. I don't mind so much - I've learnt to deal with my laptop's increasing moodswings. But if you were thinking about writing on my wall, don't bother; my computer will probably explode. Yours might too. Just give me a phone call.

2) My sewing-machine-poltergeist has followed me to school. And I am not even kidding. Okay so the other day I just sitting there, you know, all innocently, working on a shirt. I put my foot on the pedal, and the machine sewed for a few seconds, and then stopped. Huh? What? So I'm pressing on the pedal and making 'Why isn't the machine working?' gestures, and then Celyna (my teacher) comes up behind me and is all "Your machine's turned off, idiot."
Okay, actually what she said was "Your machine's turned off." But you could totally tell she was adding the 'idiot' part in her head. Anyway...
Off? It was off? BUT IT WAS JUST SEWING, LIKE ONE SECOND AGO!!!
There was only one possible solution - IT WAS THE SEWING-MACHINE-POLTERGEIST!!
So then of course I completely abandoned my assignment and sat around talking about my poltergeist theory to just about anyone who would listen. And now they all think I'm crazy. I mean, more so than before.

3) I had netball last night. It was the usual embarrassing affair - not because of my team, oh no, they're fantastic, but rather because I couldn't seem to gain control over my own legs. Honestly, by the end of the game it was getting ridiculous. Who trips over themselves? I'm all for tripping over someone else, that could happen to anyone. But I trip over myself. Like, I'll be standing COMPLETELY alone, with nobody around me, and somehow my legs get all tangled up in each other. It happened twice last night, much to the delight of the spectactors I'm sure.
Ah well, I guess it's not that bad. What did I lose really, except my last shred of dignity and all the skin on my left knee? Nothing I can't live without.

Talent Epiphany

So you know how I'm always whinging about how everyone has a talent except for me? Like, some people can play piano, some people can run marathons, some people can perform emergency throat surgery, some people can make really good brownies...etc etc. But try as I might, I can't do any of those things.
Well, except for the throat surgery - I'm a total whizz at throat surgery.
Still, aside from that, there's not much I'm good at. At least, that's what I thought. UNTIL NOW.
Because you know what I've realised? I am talented. I do have talents. Here is my talent epiphany:

I have all the talents that nobody else wants

Right? Right?? Let me explain.

If the world were a department store and talents could be purchased, I would be the crazy bag lady digging through the bargain bin in the corner. While everyone else was toting Intelligence, Musical Talent or Creativity toward the change rooms, I'd be at the checkout buying The Ability To Chew Gum And Eat Chocolate At The Same Time without even bothering to try it on first.

Maybe you know every element on the periodic table. So what? I know the words to every song on Michael Jackson's Thriller album.

Maybe you can sail and windsurf and bodyboard and know how to build your own outboard motor. So what?! I can paint my toenails in a moving car without smudging them.

And yeah, to any normal person, this kind of realisation would probably result in depression rather than excitement. But hey, a talent is a talent. Plus, since when have I been normal?

So, I just heard that the good people of Canberra have officially banned the selling/recreational use of fireworks.
Huh.
Congratulations, Government of Australia - your capital city just got even shittier!

Really though. I don't get it. I don't. I just don't get it. As if Canberra wasn't sucky enough, now they've gone and made the ONLY decent thing to do there illegal. Well, okay, one of the TWO decent things to do; I'm not going to pretend I don't love playing on the Sperm ride at Questacon. But still.
Fireworks.
Canberra.
Illegal.
And it's the worst kind of illegal, too. It's not like j-walking or homocide; you know, those are the types of crimes you can potentially get away with. But illegally setting off fireworks? Give me ONE possible scenario where you could get away with that.
...
...
See? It's impossible! Because there's no way to do it without someone seeing!
Unless, you know, your parents are cool with you setting the house on fire. In that case, grab some Catherine Wheels, lock yourself in the bathroom and go to town.
But just what are the rest of us supposed to do? I guess watching the Harbour Bridge ceremonially burst into flames once every 12 months is going to have to do.

Quote of the CENTURY

Catherine Trew: Okay this is really embarrassing, but the other day I drove past this building with a sign on the front that said 'Aquarium', and I was like, what the hell is an Aqua Reeyum?

WARNING: The following blog is the result of a massive caffeine overdose

Okay, you know what makes me mad?
When the bottom of the strawberry punnet doesn't have holes in it.
Oh. My gosh. It makes me CRAZY!!! Because anyone who's anyone knows that before you eat a strawberry, you have to wash it. Otherwise who knows what you could be eating - Pesticides? Insect feces? Essence of swine flu??? ANYTHING!!
So yeah, you have to wash the strawberries before you eat them. Which I am totally cool with, by the way.
EXCEPT when there aren't any holes in the bottom of the punnet.
See, the easiest way to wash the strawberries is all at once - leave them in the box, and fill it with water. They'll all be washed at the same time, and the water drains out the bottom through these handy little holes. Simple, easy, effective.
EXCEPT when there aren't any holes in the bottom of the punnet.
Because then, instead of letting the water drain out the bottom, you have to tip it upside down, let the water drain, and try to keep the strawberries from falling out ALL AT THE SAME TIME!
It's crazy! CRAZY!!! Like these strawberries I had today. Strawberries from Noosa. What, they think just because they're from Noosa, they don't have to put holes in the bottom of their strawberry punnets? Huh? Huh?
Well guess what?? THEY DO! Because when they don't, it makes me want to gouge out my own eyes and feed them to a pack of rabid dogs.
Huh. Right, okay, no. That might be a bit dramatic. But it's still annoying! Those Noosa strawberry makers need to either put holes in the bottom of their punnets, or make sure the strawberries are pre-washed when I get them. I don't know how they'd do that, but hey - they figured out how to grow strawberries, so I'm sure they can think of something.
Alright, I'm done. End of rant.
For now.