18 Dillion Wonderful Things

Whatever happened to Freddie Prinz (or however you spell it) Jr? I don't know who's choosing what to play over at Movie Extra, but I've seen THREE old-school-teen-romance-films starring FPJ in the last fortnight alone.

Today was She's All That. Oh, my. There are 18 dillion wonderful things about that movie. Here are the first 3:

• Paul Walker
• Sherminator having to eat his own pubes
• The chick that plays Taylor Vaughan was totally in Prison Break

But seriously. What happened to Freddie Prinz (or however you spell it) Jr? Well, I'll tell you what happened: he took a job as Dr Harry Cooper's body double.

That joke was too easy, right? Oh look, he wears one of those hats that Dr Harry wears! It's hilarious!
Yeah, I suck. Whatever.
Anyway.
If you are anything like the kids I babysit, you may have noticed me looking particularly old and rickety as of late. Well, there is a reason - I turned 20 today. Also, that old bitch from The Skeleton Key totally put a spell on me and stole my youth.
Okay, so the Skeleton Key thing is a lie, but I did turn 20. Like with She's All That, there are 18 dillion wonderful things about turning 20. Here is the first one:

The others currently escape me.
Anyway, now that I'm officially old, I've been thinking alot about how I would like to die. Is that terribly morbid? You would think so, but every death-scenario I've come up with so far has been nothing short of hilarious. For example, getting hit by a blimp. That would be hilarious. I mean come on - where are you standing that you could get hit by a blimp? On top of a mountain? And even if you were, surely you'd see the blimp coming? They move at like 2 metres a year.
So I don't want to die by getting hit by a blimp. Because then I would be an idiot.
I don't want to choke either, because I have this weird fear of it. I choked on everything when I was a kid - lollies, spaghetti, steak, brocolli, melon, rice, milk, water, air, my own tongue. I had a very small oesophagus.
Conclusion: I don't know. I'd probably like to go in my sleep, or being smothered by Wentworth Miller's pecs. Because at least then I could say I died doing what I loved - sleeping, or being smothered by Wentworth Miller's pecs.

Happy Birthday, me!

So as it turns out, there is something scarier than the prospect of turning 20:I will never urinate again.

Some POST Oscar Thoughts

Alright people, lets get it out of the way:

Meryl Streep Did Not Win The Oscar

I am suitably devestated. Now, moving on.

First of all...I get that they're huge and amazing and more important than any of us normal people could even possibly imagine, but did the Oscars really have to air on THREE separate networks this year? I spent half my morning just deliberating over which channel to watch. Long story short, I went (as I always do) with E!...mainly because I am and always will harbour a not-so-secret addiction to the E! Channel, but also because I love seeing Ryan Seacrest and Giuliana Rancic making idiots out of themselves on the red carpet.

Oh, those two. Can they get any vainer? The best part is that you can tell they totally hate each other, but have to pretend otherwise on camera. Screw James Cameron, I'd give them the Oscar.

Speaking of the red carpet...eh. I got nothing. Other than Meryl Streep in all her glory and Sandra Bullock's impersonation of a statue itself, I was completely bored. Really. The best moment was either Sam Worthington and Zac Efron's awkward attempt at a handshake/hug, or Ryan Seacrest's referal to Mariah Carey's boobs as his "best friends". Oh, Ryan. When will you learn?

Now, the actual ceremony.

Oh, no, wait! Before we get to that, I want to finally say what I've been thinking since about 11.40 this morning - that the Academy totally needs to invent a new niche category, titled "Best Film With An Ensemble Cast". Or, if they want to be more accurate, "Best Film Where We Tried To Include As Many A-Listers As Possible In A Semi-Desperate And Completely Obvious Attempt To Draw An Audience". I don't know who'd win, but I'll tell you who wouldn't: He's Just Not That Into You. The only good thing about that movie is Ben Affleck's pronunciation of the phrase "deflated boob". I'm serious; like 45 minutes in. Check it out.

Steve (Martin) and Alec (Baldwin...we're on a first name basis) would have been more awesome as hosts had they not followed a musical number that made reference to prison-rape by Neil Patrick Harris, who I would now like to date, marry and have lots of sex and babies with. I do like Steve Martin though. He's looking pretty good, for a 90-something-year-old! Alec Baldwin though, I was half expecting to climb through my TV screen with a pick-axe and murder us all. What is it about that guy that screams 'serial killer'?

Anyway, he and Steve stood around making jokes at the audiences' expense for 5 or 10 minutes, most of which went down pretty well. Oh, except the ones about George Clooney, who must have had his sense of humour surgically removed before the ceremony - coz he looked pissed. And a bit scruffy. And kind of old. And sort of like a complete douche-lord.

Speaking of complete douche-lords...James Cameron. Um, how shall I put this delicately...SUCK IT, JAMES CAMERON, SUCK IT! Sure, Avatar won everything even I admitted it should win (cinematography, visual effects, art direction etc), but the big cheese himself got nothing. I wouldn't worry about it though, he's got about $400 billion to soften the blow.

Other than that, what is there to talk about? Jeff Bridges and Mo'Nique who both won as predicted, Christoph Waltz taking out Best Supporting Actor, and Sandra Bullock robbing Meryl Streep but being extremely charming, funny and likable while doing it.

Oh.

And Oprah was there.

Best Dressed? Sandra Bullock

Best Attempt At Being Best Dressed? Kristen Stewart (I know, even I was surprised)

Best Presenter? Ben Stiller, who dressed up as an avatar and insulted James Cameron in the native Na'vi tongue.

Best Line? Came from Tim Robbins: "I remember Morgan Freeman turning to me on the last day of shooting for The Shawshank Redemption and saying, "Friendship is getting a friend a cup of coffee. Could you do that for me Ted?"

And finally...

Best Part: It's gonna be on repeat for the next 24 hours.

Some pre-Oscar thoughts:

Who the hell is Jeff Bridges? Briges? Brides? Okay kidding, I know that last one is wrong. Still, who is this guy? Apparently he's been nominated like 8 dillion times before, and everyone keeps going on about how much they hope he wins because he's pretty much the Kate Winslet of Old Guy Actors, but I am totally clueless. Jeff Bridges, if you are reading this, please send me a link to your IMDb page. And an email explaining how to spell your last name.
My Mum and I are in the midst of an all-out war concerning who should win Best Actress. Mum says Sandra Bullock, which I suspect has less to do with Sandra Bullock's acting ability and more to do with the fact that her co-star Ryan Reynolds was half-naked in The Proposal.
Pfft.
I'm on Team Streep, otherwise known as The Team Who Will Win. Mainly because I know Meryl Streep is a great actress, but also because I love her so much that I sometimes have dreams about the two of us running away together. Oh Meryl. How can you not love Meryl Streep? I do. I love her. She could literally take a dump on the hood of my car and I would still love her. In fact, it would probably make me love her more.
Anyway, I sure hope she wins, because I've got 10 dollars riding on it and a recent bank account statement that reads:
Opening Balance: -$43.30
Deductions: $4.00 (monthly ATM fee)
Closing Balance: -$47.30
Sigh. Oh well.
Now, about Steve Martin and Alex Baldwin hosting. I'm all for Steve Martin, because to be frank, I'm happy he's still alive. I swear that guy has had white hair since I was like 5. He's gotta be pushing 90, right? But Alec Baldwin I'm not so sure about - he kind of totally scares the bejeezus out of me. I wish Ellen was hosting. As in Ellen DeGeneres, not my friend Ellen Fletcher. Although Ellen Fletcher would be pretty awesome...perhaps they could host together, and Meryl Streep could be the DJ. Can you imagine?
Anyway.
The only thing I want more than for Meryl Streep to win is for James Cameron to lose. Someone needs to knock that you-know-what off his high horse. Plus you can totally tell he expects to win, which increases the likeliness that he'll make this face when he doesnt:
Suck it, James Cameron! Oh, and ps, Avatar was totally predictable!
Stay tuned for my post-Oscar blog tomorrow. Until then!

Hey crew,
So first of all - the reason I haven't been blogging is because my laptop finally carked it this week. Wait. Is that the correct spelling of 'carked'? See, if I still had a laptop, I could dictionary.com these things. As it is, I'm stuck on my parents ancient desktop, which is so old and creaky it can barely handle me typing 85 words a minute. I swear, the back of it is like smoking right now.
Anyway.
Whats been up? I went to coffee/shopping/to the movies with Mel (Amon) yesterday/last night. Wow, backslash overload. But yeah, Mel. Okay, one reason I love Mel (among many others), is because whenever I'm with her, stuff like this happens:

Mel: (Seeing a poster for Dear, John on the wall) Look! Channing!
Jacki: (Pointing to my own ass) That's where Channing likes it!
Mel: What?
Jacki: Don't you remember that time we found out (at this point the lift doors open just in time to allow 6 people see me saying) Channing Tatum was a bisexual, and we kept doing that?
People In Lift: (Stunned silence)
Mel: Oh yeah. Hey, going down?
People In Lift: (Stunned silence)

Haha. My life is awesome.

So, I mentioned him briefly a couple of posts ago, but I wanna take a moment to unleash the weird/stalker side of my personality and talk more about this friend my sister brought home last weekend.
Name: Owen
Last Name: ...it escapes me. H-something? It started with an H. Or a K.
Nope, definitely an H. I remember because it was written on the back of his shirt in sharpie. Fashion statement? Perhaps. Or maybe it was his favourite shirt and he was just really paranoid about one of us stealing it. Either way, it's of no importance to anyone.
Anyway, nice guy. And God knows I gave him enough reasons to totally shut me down (need I reference the 'taste of butt' conversation?), but he didn't. See? Nice. But what is with Western Australians (that's where he's from) and their weird slang/distaste for crazy words? I wasn't allowed to say 'wowza'. Or 'fave'. Or even my favourite, 'totes mcgotes', since apparently in Perth, 'mcgote' is slang for 'blow job'.
Conclusion? People from Perth are idiots.

Hey, speaking of idiots, has anyone here seen the most recent Woolworths Fresh Food Ideas commercial? You know, the one with the Mum banging on and on about how much her kids hate healthy food, and she can only get them to eat it by stir-frying shaved carrots in tomato sauce and calling it 'Orange Pasta'?
Alright.
I know I have a tendency to exaggerate things, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one out there thinking this is the most moronic thing I've ever heard. Orange pasta? I don't care how many remedial classes your kid is enrolled in, nobody on earth is stupid enough to fall for that. It makes me angry. It actually makes me mad; every time I see it on TV I have to watch like, 3 episodes of Prison Break in a row just to calm myself down. You don't have to say it, I know I'm crazy. But you know who's crazier? Anyone who has a 'themed' wedding. And also, people who think their kids will believe in 'orange pasta'.
Sigh.
On another note, Haloscan, my comment box host, appears to have shut down. Thanks for telling me guys! Anyway, it was automatically replaced by something called 'JS-Kit', which looks like Msn and doesn't show up on my main page. Dammit Haloscan! I would fix this, but I have neither the know-how nor the energy. Any suggestions? If you think you can help me out, shoot me an email and I'll pencil you into my Oscar acceptance speech.

Shower Thoughts #36

I don't understand the expression "I slept like a baby."
Mainly because people use it to convey that they've slept really well. Right? And since when do babies sleep well?
From now on, I'm endevouring to never use this phrase. Maybe if I slept in a crib, woke up crying and crapped myself, I would use it.
Otherwise, no.

The Curse Of The Winter Olympics

I think these Winter Olympics in Canada are cursed.
Before we talk about that though, can I just say how much I'm loving that there's a team of snowboarders who all wear flannel shirts? Ha!
What are they, The Lumberjack Team?
Actually no, they're Americans. I just found out. I hope their team captain doesn't fly down here and punch me in the face after reading this. I was only kidding, dude! And I think lumberjacks are hot!
Anyway, this curse. Yeah, I think the Winter Olympics are cursed. Wanna know what the curse is? Me. I am the curse. Here's why:
Every time I sit down to watch an event, someone falls over. Crashes. Stacks it. Face plants. Whatever you wanna call it, I'm not kidding. Every single time. So far, I've killed the dreams of 2 figure skaters, a snowboarder, a speed skater, some chick on the luge, an alpine skier - and as of this morning - the Canadian Ice Hockey team. Oh my gosh. I thought maybe the first 6 were coincidental, but a whole ice hockey team?
Somebody stop me!

On a completely different note, I'm thinking of doing a little something in the next couple of weeks to celebrate turning 18 for the third time. What days are good for people? You're all invited.

Chicken Periods, Steak, Tropfest and The Best Night Of My Life

What a weekend!

So first of all, my sister was home from the navy. And even better than that, she was home from the navy with a friend; which is always fun, because who doesn't love freaking out new people?

I know I do!

Anyway, I'm not going to describe the whole sister/friend/reunion thing in detail, mainly because I know nobody cares, and also because I'm a lazy shit who can't be bothered. But here was my favourite moment:

Scene: At the dinner table, in the midst of a 'welcome home' BBQ

Mum: So what's the food like in the Navy?

Catherine: It's okay. Most of the time.

Dad: What do you get for breakfast?

Catherine: Um, bacon and eggs.

Owen: Oh, man! I don't think I've ever eaten so many eggs in my life.

Catherine: Me too!

Jacki: You know, eggs are like chicken's periods.

(silence)

Ha! Yeah. Jacki Trew: Moment Killer. Oh, and there was also this:

Jacki: Ew. This bubble gum tastes like butt.

Owen: How do you know what butt tastes like?
Jacki: What, you've never tasted butt before?

Owen: (Pause) Um. No.

Oh my gosh.

And just for the record, since I know maybe half of you are freaking out about it, eggs aren't really chicken's periods. I mean, they kind of are. But not really.

Well, maybe a little bit. Just...don't eat too many eggs is what I'm trying to say.

So that was Saturday. I spent the first half of Sunday at Jess Morton's house for a Vandy Reunion BBQ - yeah, this weekend was really all about hugging people and steak. Which, coincidentally, just happen to be two of my favourite things. You know, behind disco music, Wentworth Miller, blogging, and thinking up stuff to include in my hypothetical wedding.

Anyway. Where was I?

Right, the BBQ. Or as I like to call it, Meat Fest '10. Oh baby. Meat-wise, I am never more satisfied than after dinner at Jess Morton's house. You know what I'm talking about? If you're friends with Jess you will. And if you're not friends with Jess, you should become friends with her. Because that girl knows her way around a kitchen.

After Jess's, a couple of us (Sair, Gem, Mai and myself) trained it down to Martin Place for Tropfest (that's the world's largest short film festival for you out-of-towners) and uh...well, long story short, we're now famous.

Okay, not really. But we were on TV hi-fiving this dude:

Oh yeah. I touched that guy's hand. Jealous?

So between that, sitting 2 feet from the Chaser boys and seeing Toni Collette and Elijah Wood with my very own eyes (I know you guys, it was like a celebrity orgasm), I didn't think the night could get much better.

...

I was wrong.

You know how sometimes you have an ambition - a dream, if you will - an ambition so crazy, so ludicrous, so outside the realm of reality, that you don't ever really expect to achieve it? I do. I did. I had a dream.

To run through the water fountain outside St Leonards train station in the middle of the night. That was my dream. And yesterday:

Suck it, St Leonards Train Station security team! I can now die happy.

Hello earth. I feel like an idiot right now, because I got sunburnt sitting in traffic today.
I got sunburnt. Sitting in traffic.
This sucks! I slip-slop-slapped my way to pasty skin all summer long, and I get sunburnt sitting in my Dad's car in the last week of February?
SCREW YOU, GLOBAL WARMING!
The best part is that because I got burnt while sitting in a car, it's only on one side. Do you get what I mean? I'm like a human Neenish Tart. I could star in a remake of Michael Jackson's Black Or White video all by myself. Is it Christmas again already? Coz my face looks like a candy cane!
Alright, is that enough of those?
Yeah.

So Jackie Collins is being interviewed on Chelsea Lately right now. You know, the author?
I won't go on about it because to be honest it's kind of boring, and also because I refuse to recognise people who advertise the spelling of my name with an 'e' on the end. But while I was watching, this commercial for the new season of Kendra came on and I got all excited. Holy crap, you guys! There's going to be a new season of Kendra!! This is almost as good as the time I found out the E! camera crew had been invited to Khloe Kardashian's wedding. REALITY TV ROCKS MY FREAKING CLOCK!
I know I've said this before, but I really do think I should have my own reality show. Not because I'm famous or rich or popular or interesting - because let's face it, I'm not really any of those things - only so I'd have some kind of income while I'm looking for a real job. And speaking of real jobs, would anyone like to hire me? Would you? Would you? I'll do anything! Anything that doesn't involve food or coffee or old people or formal dress codes or cleaning or having to be quiet all the time or being sent on long missions that involve driving across town getting stuck in traffic and ending up sunburnt all down the right side of my body.
Anything.

I Can't Shut Up About Movies

I just watched the most disturbing 90 minutes of television that I have ever seen in my life. Ryan Seacrest: The E! True Hollywood Story.

Ha, kidding. Actually it was this low-budget movie Captivity, starring Elisha Cuthbert and One Of The Dudes From Avatar. Anyone who reads this blog on at least a semi-regular basis will know how much I love shitty horror movies, but even I couldn't stomach this crap. Oh my gosh. Has anyone ever seen Hostel?
Imagine Hostel times a thousand. I am wordless. There are literally no words. But yeah, Captivity - check it now, thank me later!

Speaking of crap I can't stomach, have you guys seen Channing Tatum's hair recently? I don't like posting pictures of male celebrities who aren't Wentworth Miller, but basically:
Except floppier. Oh, Channing.
That's all I have to say in response. Oh, Channing. And this: Get a haircut, ya damn hippie!

Vegemite Cheesybite? Give Me A Break

Some food-related thoughts:

• Chocolate coins are sen-effing-sational. Who invented them? Who was it? Who was it? Was it you? Whoever it was deserves a medal, and I am not even kidding. I'm gonna have them at my wedding.
• Castello cheese. How can something that looks and smells so horrific taste so damn good? I am in awe.
• Speaking of cheese, I heard they renamed the new Vegemite spin-off: Vegemite Cheesybite. Oh how original. Yeah, it's like vegemite with cheese. We get it. I'm no advocate for the national disaster that was iSnack 2.0, but you would think they might come up with something a little more creative than 'Vegemite Cheesybite'. Vacheesymite? Cheesyveg? Va-va-cheesy-cheese? These are just ideas, all I'm saying is that Snack or Kraft or whoever-the-hell owns Vegemite these days needs to seriously think about pulling their head out of their ass. Vegemite Cheesybite? Give me a break.

That's about all I got. The chocolate coin thing ups the list of Crazy Shit I'm Having At My Wedding to about 5 things. Yeah, my hypothetical future husband is gonna have to be pretty tolerant.

The Truth About Possums

I'm angry at the world today. 2 reasons:

1) Television. Because some idiot - and I don't know who this was, but if I ever find out I'm gonna tear them a new asshole - decided it'd be a good idea to play every single show I want to watch between the hours of 7 and 9pm on Tuesday. I'm not kidding! Next Top Model, Bones, Gossip Girl, Keeping Up With The Kardashians, Scrubs and Chelsea Lately. All at the same time.

And on every other day of the week? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS TO ME?!

also,

2) For no apparent reason, I just ate enough spaghetti bolognese to feed a family of four, and now I feel like I might explode. Which wouldn't be so bad, except that even on the off chance that I actually make it to the bathroom in time, I'm not 100% certain which end it's gonna come out of. Know what I'm saying? Know what I'm saying? I'm either gonna crap myself or take a trip to Vomit City is what I'm saying. Stupid spaghetti! Stupid family! WHY DIDN'T ANYONE STOP ME?!

Oh, you know what? There's also a possum haunting the roof space right above my bedroom. Oh how cute, you might be thinking. Possums are adorable, you might be thinking. What a great showcase of Australian wildlife, you might be thinking.

WRONG! Possums are not cute, or adorable, or a great showcase of Australian wildlife. They are giant flipping pain in my possum-hating ass. I probably sound bitter and crazy right now and well, that's because I am. But I don't care! You need to know the truth about possums - that they're sadistic, smelly, loud, they keep me up at night, they pee in the roof, they chew our electrical wires, and - now I can't say this for sure - but I'm pretty sure they're plotting the annaihalation of the human race:

An Orgy Of Hollywood's Finest

Alright, so I know I said my Valentine's Day plans pretty much consisted of TV, expensive soft cheeses and not having to get dressed, but I lied.
That is how I spent most of today, but at around 4 this afternoon I decided to get off my ass and go 'celebrate' with Sair, Lauren, Gem and Casey. We went to the movies to see - you guessed it - Valentine's Day.
Alright.
What is it with this movie? It's like an orgy of Hollywood's finest. Julia Roberts, Bradley Cooper, George Lopez, Jennifer Garner, Jessica Biel, Patrick Dempsey, Ashton Kutcher, Topher Grace, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Alba, Queen Latifah...there are more A-listers starring than there were people in the cinema! It's like trying to watch 18 movies at once! And I don't wanna have to try and concentrate on that many storylines - I just wanna do what all single people go to the movies to do: sit on my ass, drink coffee and glare resentfully at the couple making out in front.
Ugh.
People in movie theatres. Or to be more specific, people in movie theatres on Valentine's Day. Here's what annoys me: Every time someone famous/hot/semi-naked appeared on screen, the whole audience would gasp. Loudly. REALLY loudly. What is wrong with these people? Is it really that much of a surprise to see Taylor Lautner? Did they not know what movie they'd paid to see? Is Hoyts offering some sort of mystery lucky-dip ticket system these days? Arghhh!
Speaking of Hoyts movie tickets, I'd like to know when it became acceptable to charge $18.50 for one.
$18.50. For one movie ticket. Are they kidding?! I could MAKE a movie for less than that amount! Not really, but you know what I mean. No wonder the pirated DVD industry is booming.

Truth, however? Putting aside the fact that I'm obviously destined to be lonely, bitter and obsessed with cats for the rest of my life, it's actually a pretty good movie. After all, how could I not enjoy something starring both McDreamy and McSteamy? 3 stars.

Happy Valentine's Day, Assholes.

Happy Feb 14th, love-bugs! It's Valentine's Day!
Ah, Valentine's Day. Or as I like to call it, Oh Yeah I'm Alone; Thanks For The Reminder Asshole!
...
What is it about this 'holiday' that rubs me wrong? Well first of all, that it's even labelled a holiday, when clearly it's not. No. No. Holidays are fun. And merry. And there's great food and presents and you get the day off work and EVERY MEMBER OF THE FAMILY IS INCLUDED, EVEN THOSE WITHOUT A SIGNIFICANT OTHER.
Valentine's Day is so selective. Worse than that, it's exclusive. It's like the Cool Kid on the playground. Oh it's great if you're dating or married or in a defacto relationship with someone lovely who sends you flowers and chocolates and a photograph of themself dressed as Wentworth Miller. It's great then.
But what about the rest of the human race? Left to celebrate the way I do - in pajamas, with Prison Break on DVD and an entire wheel of Castello cheese.

You know what else I hate about Valentine's Day? People. People on Valentine's Day. What, just because Hallmark invented some holiday a dillion years ago, it's suddenly okay to suck each other's faces in public?
WELL IT'S NOT! Sucking face is not a public activity. At all. Under any circumstance. Ever. The only way I can tolerate people making out in public is if one of them happens to be Wentworth Miller. It also helps if the other person is me. But even then it's inappropriate. Plus to actually see myself making out with Wentworth Miller, we'd have to be standing in front of a mirror, which seems kind of weird...
Whatever.
It's not that I'm anti-love. I love love. Love is good.
Great.
Grand.
Wonderful! I am all about the love.
If you're offered love on a silver platter, you better grab that bad boy and hold onto it with both hands while you can - because if life (and the final episode of Prison Break) has taught us anything, it's that sooner or later we're all going to end up pregnant and alone.
So feel free to be in love - all I ask is that you politely refrain from shoving it in my face.

Happy Valentine's Day, Assholes.
Love Jacki

Holy Shit Y'all, My Wife Is In Labour!

I love American Idol, but what is going on with this dude whose wife is in labour? I was watching just now, and happened upon the following weirdness:

Ryan Seacrest: It's day 2 of the Hollywood auditions, and the competition is heating up. Especially for this dude:
(Cut to dude talking on iPhone)
Dude Talking On iPhone: Holy shit y'all, my wife is in labour!

I am serious! It's round 2 of Hollywood Week - the tension is high, the singing is amazing, the mistakes are hilarious...and they keep cutting to this guy with the pregnant wife! Granted he's one of the contestants, and a good one at that, but if I wanted to hear about a woman giving birth, I'd flip to the W Channel.
Once again - it's American Idol.
AMERICAN.
IDOL.
American. As in 'an American person'.
And Idol. As in 'with the potential to blow Mariah Carey out of the water'.
Right? It's not about babies and labour and placenta and being 8cm dialated. It's about embarassing auditions, Ellen Degeneres, and finding the next Mariah Carey.

Is Dolphin Gang-Rape Offensive To Humans?

It just occured to me that all this talk about dolphin gang-rape might be offending some of you.
Are you offended?
Have I offended you?
Should I have written it on the uncut/unrated/unreasonable version of my blog instead?
Here, vote on this poll to let me know:

poll by twiigs.com

Ummm. Yeah.
One thing I will talk about on this blog is how and why you should all switch your televisions to Channel 10 at exactly 8.36pm tonight, because - holy shit - the episode of Law and Order: SVU guest starring Wentworth Miller is on.
*Flips out*
Sigh. Wentworth Miller. There are no words.
No wait. There's one word - husband.
Aaaanyway.
For more on dolphin gang-rape, how we can stop dolphin gang-rape, and an unfortunate story in which I have to explain to my mother why the phrase 'dolphin gang-rape' appears in my internet search history, visit Insanity Now Has A Website: Uncut, Unrated, Unreasonable, also known to some of you as A Small And Seemingly Pointless Collection Of All The Thoughts I Have That Are Too Offensive To Be Posted On My Regular Blog, But Deserve To Be Published All The Same.

Ciao!

Bank Of Hollywood

Oh my gosh you guys, I am excited. And not just because I just found a whole packet of Tim Tams in the pantry. That's a large part of it, but there's more:
There's this new show on the E! Channel called Bank of Hollywood, where a whole bunch of crazy people get up and talk about the crazy stuff they wanna do, and some of them get chosen by this panel of 'Hollywood alumni' (I think one of them is Tori Spelling's mum - what the hell?), anyway, whoever is chosen gets the money to do whatever they want.
Ummm, HOLY CRAP! Is this not the greatest thing that television has ever produced? Ever?! I'd say it is, except for Prison Break, and that one episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians where Kris accidentally-on-purpose puts viagra in her son's coffee and he ends up in the emergency room having his erection deflated.
That was the greatest thing that television has ever produced. But this Bank of Hollywood business is a close second.

Lord Howe: My Triumphant Return!!!

So I'm in this habit of travelling to Lord Howe Island every year, having the time of my life, then blogging about it. And obviously - being that I have no job/life/significant other - this year is no different.

Well, except that we went in Feb instead of Jan to avoid the school-holiday rush.

And that Catherine wasn't there, on account of her having joined the Navy and running off to do a thousand push-ups or whatever.

And that we didn't see Eric Bana.

Apart from that though? Totally the same. For example; just like last year (and the other 18 years before that), every spider on the whole island tried to kill me. And, just like last year (and the other 18 years before that), my parents totally ignored my anguished cries for help.

...

I hate spiders.

Hey, speaking of hating animals, did you guys know that dolphins gang-rape each other? Yep. Octopuses too, but I want the main focus to be on dolphins because lets be honest - octopuses (octopi?) are disgusting. Right? Ew. But dolphins? My entire dolphin-loving-childhood is totally tainted. I'll never think of dolphins the same way again. If I ate tuna, I would TOTALLY start buying the dolphin-non-friendly brand. I'm not gonna feel bad about it, either! I really think it would make a difference. And what a great thing to write on your tombstone:

Jacki Trew

She Saved The World,

Eating One Rapist At A Time

Anyway. We (being myself, Julia, Leigh and Anna) decided to combine our new-found love of groups with our new-found hatred of dolphins, and created a super-organisation known as Humans Against The Gang-Rape Of Dolphins...And Octopuses Too, I Guess. H.A.T.G.R.O.D.A.O.T.I.G for short.

Catchy, right? I'm thinking we should have t-shirts made:Now I'll talk about Eric Bana, but only for a second lest I get all devo about it. Yeah, that's right, I used the word lest in a blog. And in the same sentence as the word devo.
Suck it, Roseville English Department!
Okay so Eric was there, only three weeks before us. Sigh. Whose idea was it to come in February again? I would label whoever-it-was a total douche-lord, only I'm pretty sure it was one of my parents, so that might not be wise. You know, unless I'm okay with looking for a new place to live.
Which I am not.
Moving on!

There was a bit more rain than we're used to, so to fill the time we learned how to play Gin Rummy. And Trivial Pursuit. And Celebrity Heads. And one morning there was an extremely satisfying marathon round of Pictionary during which the 'adult' team was completely destroyed by the 'youth' and our nimble-wristed-drawing-abilities. Hell yeah.
We swam, we read, we snorkled, we rode bikes, we ate, I acted out scenes from Jane Austen's Persuasion with my feet (video to be posted soon, don't you worry)...all in all, it was a pretty kick-ass holiday. Then I got back to Sydney and remembered that
a) I have to go back to school tomorrow,

b) I have no clean clothes to wear,

c) The washing machine is full of my sister's sailing clothes, and

d) Our DVD player is broken

That last one doesn't relate - I'm just really annoyed about it.

You guys, I only just got back from my 10 days at Lord Howe, and there's so much to tell you and show you and dictate to you, and I can't wait to do it so we can all laugh our asses off together...but right now I gotta go to netball.

Here's a little preview to tide you over:

• Dolphin rape
• Eric Bana
• Pictionary wars
• A surprise engagement
• My dad dressing up as Nicole Kidman

Oh yes. Are you hooked? More coming soon. Oh, but here's something I just couldn't bear to leave until later: WHY?!

Au Revoir, Planet Sydney!

Hello, internet. Are you ready for 10 Jacki-free days?
Well you better get ready, punks. Because I'm leaving tomorrow!
Anyway.
Here are a few seemingly random thoughts I had while packing my bag:

• Jeans or no jeans? It's weird that I've been going to Lord Howe once a year every year for the past 2 decades, and yet I can never remember whether or not jeans should make the packing list.
• Dude, I should totally start watching Lost again.

And that's it. That's where I got stuck - now its 11.26pm, I have to leave at 10 in the morning, I haven't packed, and I'm in the middle of a Lost marathon.
Sigh.
How did I get to be so stupid?
Seriously. I want to know. How? I expect you all to have written 8-page essays on the subject by the time I get back.
Ciao, bitches!!

Dear Hilary Swank...

So I'm having a pretty slow Saturday night. Actually, I was just sitting here on my couch watching The Core, and I decided to write a letter to Hilary Swank:

Dear Hilary Swank,

What the f***?

Sincerely, Jacki Trew

Really though. She went from Million Dollar Baby...to this? I am in awe. And not the good kind of awe. Is there a bad kind of awe? Perhaps 'awe' isn't the right word. Fine, I am in shock. I am shocked. If it weren't for my love of shitty movies and Core co-star Aaron Eckhart's intruiging bone structure, I would be switching off the TV right now.
Having said that, I think you should all watch it. Just in case, you know, the Earth's core does stop spinning and we all burst into flame or whatever; at least we can say we saw it coming.

Ladies, Look Away

One of the strangest things about me is that I am a girl, yet there are jokes offensive to women that I still find funny.
If you are like me, you should read THIS joke.
I have been laughing for 15 minutes.

Right now I'm doing three things:

1. Watching The Ruins on Movie One

2. Considering a new look for my blog

Oh my gosh, The Ruins. You guys need to watch it. Even if you claim to really hate crappy low-budget horror movies. Especially if you claim to really hate crappy low-budget horror movies. I've already done a film review this week, so I'm not gonna go on and on about it. To sum up?

Mexico + alcohol + hot uni students + plants that eat people.

Always a winning combination.

Now about this new look. I've had this one for a while, and I'm getting a little tired of it. Shall I? Shant I? Should I? Aah, who gives a crap. Still, if you have any opinion on the matter, don't hesitate to leave me a comment or shoot me an email or send me a letter or write me a poem or fly me a carrier pidgeon or film yourself talking and post it on YouTube for the whole world to see.

Oh, hey! Remember at the very beginning of this post, when I said I was doing three things? You may have noticed that I never listed the third thing. Well here it is:

Again, I'm kidding. I only wish I was doing that.

Rain Swollen River - Ha!

You might be wondering why I've been blogging so much as of late. Well, I've got nothing going on in my life for one thing. And for another, I'm going to Lord Howe Island on monday - and when I do, you'll all be without me for 10 whole days.
Except for Julia, who wont be able to get rid of me for 10 whole days.

Yeah...good luck Julia.

Anyway, I'm basically just posting a whole lot of crap to tide you guys over until my return. Don't read it all at once, y'all!

Of course I am joking. You should read it, read it all, read it all right this second. I'll be pretty flippin' angry if you don't. Even angrier than I am at myself right now for just using the word y'all and thinking I could get away with it.

Apparently these four firefighters in America are being hailed as total heroes after rescuing a dog from a rain swollen river in Los Angeles. We'll get to the firefighters in a sec, but first I'd just like to take a moment to appreciate the phrase rain swollen river.

Because it is hilarious.

I don't know why. I don't care why. I just love it - and if that makes me a crazy person, I am more than willing to deal.

Now, the firefighters. Kudos to them, but I don't really understand. Who called them? There was no fire! There was a dog and a helicopter and a river. Surely this is a job for the coast guard? Anyway. The best part of the whole story is that when the dude (after flying over the river and being lowered into it with what I'm assuming was some sort of canine-harness) finally got to the dog, it started mauling him. Ha! I'm not even kidding - he had to go to the hospital and everything! And I gotta say, after seeing a photo of said dog, I'm kind of not surprised. God and everyone else knows I love puppies, but maybe they should have left this one in the river:Okay, kidding. That's not the dog. The real dog is scarier:

Green eyes?? Those are the dogs they breed in hell!
By the way, I am so glad I used Google Images to find those photos. This is the funniest thing I have seen in my life:

Back By Popular Demand...Shower Thoughts #34

What I'd like to know is, how come - on American Idol - it's only the people who can't sing that act totally nuts? You know what I mean? It's always the ones who really suck that keep singing even after the judges say no. I want someone to win a ticket to Hollywood, and then have to be escorted from the building.
That's entertainment.

48? Boy Was I Off The Mark!

I figured it out! Why I'm finding it so hard to get a job, that is. I mean, aside from the obvious reasons - like that I haven't actually started looking for a job yet. Or that I'm clinically insane. Or that my only 'skill' is being able to re-enact any scene from the TV show Prison Break at the drop of a hat.
Those are insignificant. The REAL reason is this: I am way too picky.
To illustrate (and because I have an unnatural fondness for list making), here is a little something I like to call...

JACKI TREW'S LIST OF POTENTIAL JOB PREREQUISITES (Did I spell that right?...Yep, yep, I did.)

1. Nailpolish

It sounds stupid, but I suffered through 6 long years of high school without nailpolish, and I felt naked without it. I don't have a collection of over 25 colours for nothing, people! And on that note...

2. Piercings

Permission to wear (several pairs of) earrings? After all the hassle of getting them done, it'd be a pain in the ass if the holes closed over.

3. A Computer

So I can blog-on-the-job. Duh.

4. No Old People

Nothing against the elderly, I just have an unfounded fear of them. And more than that, I feel like I might freak them out. Plus I wanna be able to talk about stuff like American Idol and the internet and Jaegar Bombs and how smokin' hot Wentworth Miller is, and let's face it - anyone over the age of 70 is gonna have no freaking clue what I'm going on about.

5. No Experience Necessary

Like I said, apart from loving TV way too much, I am essentially skill-less. Skill-less enough to not recognise that 'skill-less' isn't actually a word. Oh man, I'm in trouble.

6. Denim

Okay, denim needs to be part of the dress code. Mainly because I plan on having a year-round job, and the only winter-appropriate clothing I own is jeans. Denim jeans.

7. Loud Noises

I have a naturally loud voice. And I'd like to be able to use it.

8. No Sharp Objects

Only because I am probably the least-coordinated and most accident-prone person in the history of the universe, and having to leave work to get stitches (again) might be a hassle.

9. The Love Of My Life

I don't think this is too unreasonable. I'd just like to work with Wentworth Miller, have him fall hopelessly in love with me, propose after 6 months, and marry me on a beach at sunset. Pretty standard stuff really.

and finally,

10. No Hair Nets

I only just thought of this now, but how true is it? I mean, hair nets?

Ew.

Oh, and I'd like to have weekends off.

So yeah.

I think my dream career would read something along the lines of 'Rachel Zoe's Job By Day, Blogger By Night', but right now I'm pretty set to become a homeless person. Or to be more specific, a young well-dressed, loud-speaking homeless person who owns a computer and stalks Wentworth Miller.

All I can say for sure is that one profession I'm not getting into is Celebrity Age Guessing, especially since I just found out that George Clooney is only 48. What the hell? Boy was I off the mark!

I Finally Saw Avatar

I know what you're thinking. Another movie review? Why don't I just get a job as a real film critic already? Well I'll tell you why not - because there are no listings for film critics at My Career. And even if there were, I doubt anyone is gonna hire the girl who after watching The Twilight Saga: New Moon, spent 3 and a half paragraphs talking about Rob Pattinson's lopsided nipples.
Regardless. Lets talk about Avatar.

Umm...okay. It is wrong to find an alien handsome? I mean, is this just me? Have I been alone for too long, or were those blue dudes totally hot? I know 'handsome' isn't usually a word one would associate with an extra-terrestrial being, but...damn. Do those guys work out or what? I feel like I spent the first half of the movie reminding myself to breathe. And the second half trying to decide whether the Avatars were hotter than Wentworth Miller. And the cab ride home fighting a heart attack as I imagined Wentworth Miller as an Avatar.
...Oh, my.
What was I talking about again?
Right, right, the movie.
Well first off, is there anyone left in the world who hasn't seen this film yet? Anyone? Is it you? Are you the only person left? If you are, I want you to smack yourself in the face, really really hard. Then quit wasting your time with my blog, and go see it. Now! Right now! Preferably at the IMAX. Do it!
Are you doing it?
DO IT!
Wow, I am bossy today. I feel it's justified though, since this is probably one of the most legendary films ever made. Really. Legendary was the best word I could come up with right then, and even that doesn't do it justice. What's better than legendary?
I'll tell you what is: Avatar.
James Cameron, you've done it again. It's like a wonderful cross between every futuristic movie I've ever seen, Pocahontas and Fern Gully. Remember Fern Gully? From when we were like, 5? With the forest and the fairies and the giant willow tree? Yeah, that plus the entire Sci-Fi genre = Avatar. If Dr Spock, Neo, Pocahontas and the old lady from Fern Gully got drunk at a bar together and went home for some crazy four-way sex, this movie would be the result.
And really, how could anyone say no to that?
No wonder it's the highest grossing movie of all time.

So, in conclusion:
- Avatar is incredible.
- You should all relive your childhoods with a screening of Fern Gully, and
- I am a freak who is attracted to blue aliens.
4 and a half stars.

I'll apologise in advance, because I'm in some sort of mood at the moment. I don't know what it is. I think I ate too much cheese today or something. I just wanna punch planet earth in the face. Anyway.
I might get in trouble for this, but I gotta say it: What is going on with the way Americans pronounce 'Craig'?
Just, you know. Thinking out loud.


Hey, do you guys remember when I talked about my sister joining the Navy?
Well for future reference, here is a list of things NOT to do at your sister's Navy Induction Ceremony:

• Disregard the dress-code. When they say 'Business Attire', they really mean 'Business Attire'. Not 'Whatever Clothes Were Lying Closest To The Bed'.
• Blow purple bubble gum bubbles.
• Pull faces at your sister while she's being inducted; she will not see you, and everyone else on the stage will think you are a crazy person.
• Make jokes about the Navy uniforms.
• Make jokes about the Navy flags.
• Make jokes about the induction room decor.
• Make jokes about anything at all, really.
• Suggest a new Navy training regime which involves the Dancing Zumba! workout DVD

and finally,

• Describe (in detail) the "totally hot guy" you saw on your way in. Because odds are, he will be standing right behind you. And listening.

Happy (Belated) Birthday Madi

Hi kids!

Wow, it's been a while. Well, 5 days. Is that 'a while'? Probably not to a normal person. Then again, I am neither normal nor a person, so it all works out.
Except that I am actually a person.

Whatever.

Here's a belated Happy Birthday with two capital letters to Miss Madi MuSung, also known as The Girl Who Sat Next To Me On The First Day Of Kindergarten And Hasn't Been Able To Rid Herself Of Me Yet.
So Happy Birthday Madi. And thankyou - for putting up with me for the past two decades, agreeing to go along with most of my insane 'lets get famous' escapades, and for being the living proof that it is possible to leave your teenage years behind and still look like a 15-year-old.
I can only hope I will be so lucky.
Anyway, I would have baked a cake or done a dance or sung a song, but since none of those things can be enjoyed by planet earth via the internet, I decided to give you this work of art instead:

I call it "16 Year Old Jacki Trew And Friend Unintentionally Create The Most Awkward Photograph Ever"
Enjoy.

In unrelated news, I am now - as of about 3 o'clock this afternoon - an official member of the 'Only Child' club. And by 'official' what I of course mean is 'unofficial'. And by 'unofficial' what I of course mean is...'I just decided to make myself part of the club, okay?'
Anyway.
My sister joined the Navy. That's how I figured myself to be part of the club. She left for HMAS Creswell this afternoon, and the first thing I did afterwards was run into her room and jump up and down on her bed for like 25 minutes.
Immature? Yeah.
Dangerous? A little.
A mind-numbingly stupid idea? No doubt.
But if being able to jump up and down on your sisters bed without the constant fear of death or dismemberment doesn't spell 'Only Child', I honestly don't know what does.

Dream Jacki VS Real Jacki

These holidays have made me lazy in a way that is inexcusable.
Seriously.
I'm trying to remember the last time my hair was this dirty. Year 9 camp, perhaps? Or maybe that time I had Glandular Fever and couldn't get out of bed for a week.
Wow, am I painting a pretty picture of myself or what? Get in line, boys!
Haha. Suddenly, not so hard to understand why I'm alone. Meanwhile, my dream-self has been getting tonnes of action.
Oh, have I not told you guys about this?
My sister and I invented a word for the person you become when you are dreaming. It's your 'dream-self'. Why did we do this? Well because we are losers with too much time on our hands for one thing. And for another, I needed a way to distinguish between Real Jacki and Dream Jacki - because sometimes, they are complete opposites.
For example, Dream Jacki was pregnant last night. Yeah - see what I mean about my dream-self getting tonnes of action? But I can't go around screaming about how "I was pregnant last night!" because it would probably freak out my Mum. Hey, you know what else Dream Jacki did?
Dated Wentworth Miller.
Yeah, I am not even kidding. That lucky bitch! He even had a pet nickname for her, though it's so embarrassingly mushy that I won't reveal it here. If you really want to know, you'll have to ask Julia.
Or Kiera.
Or my sister.
Damn, I should really stop telling people about my awkward Dream Details.
Anyway, it's all good, because I totally got back at Dream Jacki by having to pee bad enough to wake her up. No more Wentworth Date Time for you, Dream Jacki! Haha!
Of course when it comes to Wentworth Miller, Dream Jacki and Real Jacki both want the same thing, so I was really only hurting myself.

Oh my gosh.
I just read that last paragraph and realised how insane I sound. For once, I hope Wentworth Miller doesn't read this blog, because all he's gonna get from it is that some crazed Australian polar-schizophrenic teenager is after him. And that's not true at all: I'm not polar-schizophrenic!!

Just A Note...

I know I've been talking about it for the past 2 or 3 months, but the official launch of Always Late For Tea: Issue One PASSION was today.
Or maybe yesterday.
The day before?
Well, it was this week for sure. I should really get on top of these things.
Anyway, check it out. Issue One includes:

• Interviews with singer Katie Noonan, YouTube extraordinaire Sam Palileo, Chloe Charody - head honcho at Musique Art Magazine, and Dave Hosking - frontman of the upcoming indie band Boy & Bear
• Poetry by Steph Judd
• Photography by Tym Yee and Illustrations by Josh Climpson
• Culture by Caitlyn Adamson
• Fashion by Andy Pierce

Oh, and

• A numerous and seemingly random collection of ridiculous thoughts by some girl who occasionally manages to make people laugh

Enjoy!

So, I know I already wrote a massive post today, but I really need to talk about the picture on this milk carton:

I don't understand. What is a 'turf farm'? And abattoir? Nobody wants to think about that when they're trying to drink milk. And what?! You don't have to send a cow to the abattoir just to get milk! It's totally not necessary! In fact, I really really wouldn't reccommend it!

And what's with the cow? It doesn't even look like a cow, it looks like 2 people dressed in a cow suit. And why is the road yellow? Does this cow live in Oz? Is he off to see The Wizard?

I am so damn confused. And scared. And kind of thirsty for some milk.

Can anyone solve this? Or at least, give me something else to obsess over.

Who Wears A Beanie To The Golden Globes?!

Usually I feel kind of guilty about it, but today I've had no personal qualms with sitting in front of the TV for 4 straight hours - even though I'm unemployed and broke and have a mother who is constantly nagging me to get a job - because the Golden Globes were on. And any event that combines celebrities, public speaking and alcohol is pretty high on my list of priorities.

I'll look for a job tomorrow.

First, let's talk about Meryl Streep. Is it totally weird that I am a little bit in love with her? I know she's like 60, but all I want to do is invite her over for pizza and a Prison Break marathon. She'd enjoy that, right? I find it hard to imagine a woman who wouldn't appreciate Wentworth Miller in all his tattoo-ed glory. And everyone loves pizza.

Another person I've discovered I have a weird thing for is Julia Roberts. In her carpet interview she said something about NBC being 'in the toilet!' which I thought was very funny, but probably only because I am enough of a loser to be following this whole Jay Leno/Conan O'Brien debacle. She also looks alot younger than she is, and that always scores points with me.

I think one of my favourite things about the whole day was the Red Carpet, mainly because it was raining, and Fergie's hair frizzed right up. Celebrities - they're just like you and me!

I also enjoyed Chloe Sevigny's dress. Well, no. I enjoyed making fun of Chloe Sevigny's dress, and then revelling in the moment when someone stepped on the train and ripped it. Gold.

Nicole Kidman...well, here's how my reaction went:

Jacki: Why does Nicole Kidman always wear clothes that are the same colour as her skin?

Catherine: I don't know.

She does though. Still, I am so obsessed with every Baz Luhrmann film ever made that I can overlook it. Yeah, and just for the record:

Dress I Loved

Dress I Loathed

Dress That Made Me Feel As Though I Was About To Have Some Sort Of Stroke

Ricky Gervais was a pretty damn good host, if for no other reason, then just because of the way he pronounces the word 'category'.

Cah-eh-gor-ey.

I could listen to that man talk forever. Dammit, why can't I be British?

Mel Gibson got up at some point to make a very confusing joke about the movie Inglorious Basterds which I didn't really get because I was too distracted by the fact that he has grey hair now. And that his suit was about 3 sizes too big. And that he was even there really, because seriously when was the last time you watched a movie with Mel Gibson in it?

Haha. I'm mean.

Speaking of confusing jokes that people don't get, Toni Collette said something funny in her speech about her last trip to the Golden Globes, and how she went to the loo and missed her whole category.

Dead silence.

I laughed, but I think I was the only one since (I am assuming) Americans dont know the meaning of the word 'loo'. Poor Toni.

What else?

Oh!

As James Cameron was walking up to collect his award for best director, they played a Celine Dion song. Really you guys? Celine Dion? Titanic was more than 10 years ago, yo. You do realise he's got a new movie now, right? I don't know if you've heard of it, it's got blue people and dinosaurs and a war about some shit that wasn't explained in the trailer? Check it out. Really. Looks pretty good.

Now, about the worst part of the day...an appearance by Taylor Lautner. Okay, no, that's not true. The worst part was that all The Hangover cast members were there except for the dude who plays Allen. What? No! Allen is my reason for living! Well, no, strictly Wentworth is my reason for living. But Allen is definitely an inspiration for the insane portion of my personality. So, like 97% of it.

What was I saying? Oh, Taylor Lautner. Firstly because, well, he's Jacob. Whom I loath with an intensity that rivals Luke Skywalker's hatred of Darth Vader. Yes, Jacob Black is my Darth Vader. That makes no sense, but whatever. I also feel like it's a bit unfair for ONE person to possess so much of the handsome gene. Pass it around, greedy!

Alright, I think I'm done. Oh one more thing:

WHO WEARS A BEANIE TO THE GOLDEN GLOBES?!
Ok. Now I'm done.

Oh my goodness I am a strange form of human.
And I know what you're thinking - "Holy balls, Jacki, are you only just discovering this now? We've known for years, you nutbag!"
No, I've known. I know. But what I am only just discovering is that one of my favourite hobbies is to read YouTube video comments.
I mean.
That's weird right? It should be weird. But people are hilarious! Is this just me? People are funny! They should know how funny they are! I should tell them!

I fear I'm not making much sense. That might be because I'm in the midst of a Prison Break marathon. Season One. Otherwise known as The Season In Which Wentworth Appears Shirtless 9 Times.
And who could be expected to make sense while that's going on in the background?

Jacki's Quest For Ellen Domination

Have you been reading my blog lately? Unless you are one of my parents or my best friend, the answer to that question is probably no. So here is a recap of the past 48 hours in Jacki's World:

• Simon Cowell has hairy arms
• Google.com/images blows my freaking mind-hole
• My goal for this year: To appear a guest on The Ellen Degeneres Show

Let's talk about that last one. Obviously, I am made for day-time television. I'm crazy, unemployed, a woman, I've got alot of time on my hands, and I love to dance. But what is the best way to get Ellen's attention? Here are my ideas:

• Save enough money to fly to California, score tickets to The Ellen Show, be in the audience, strip off my clothes, and run naked across the stage during a Meryl Streep interview.

That's it. That's all I've got.
That's all I've got? To run naked across the stage during a Meryl Streep interview?
Dude. I need to get out more.
My only other idea is to invent some sort of 'Jacki's Quest For Ellen Domination' campaign poster and post it all over the internet. Which I would do right now, if it weren't for the fact that, well, I've already done it: If you've got a better idea, let me know. I'm willing to publicly humiliate the both of us in order to get it done.

Two Guys In Suits And Bike Helmets...Making Out

Oh my gosh, okay. I have discovered three equally awesome and hilarious things today:

1) Simon Cowell has an extreme amount of arm hair.

2) I...wait, dammit! I totally forgot number 2. Um...we'll come back to this later.

and 3) One of the first photos that comes up in google.com/images when one searches the phrase 'google.com/images' is of two guys in suits and bike helmets making out. Oh, my. Oh, yes. Don't believe me? Well check it for yourself.

...

Okay I totally don't trust that you guys are gonna check it for yourselves. So here it is:

Haha. Told ya!

Just for future reference, that's the second photo that comes up. I have no idea why or in what situation you would be referencing this conversation in the future, but yeah. The first photo that comes up is of two G.I Joe dolls standing on a dead squirrel.

Yep.

Just in case you didn't catch that the first time, what I said was that THE FIRST PHOTO ON GOOGLE/IMAGES IS OF TWO G.I JOE DOLLS STANDING ON TOP OF A DEAD SQUIRREL.

Holy balls, planet earth. What kind of crazy messed-up society are we living in, that the first photo on google/images is of two G.I Joe dolls standing on top of a dead squirrel? Man! If I weren't so crazy and messed-up myself, I'd probably find this totally disturbing.

Well, whatever.

On a completely different note, I implore all of you to take a 10 minute trip to www.bowerbirdandfox.wordpress.com and check out Tym Yee's post of the week. I believe the exact words I used to describe it were, um, "Ab Fab". If you're really bored, you can read mine too - though I feel I must warn you, it's less Ab Fab and more Complete Psychobabble than anything else. Story of my life.

Oh, hey! I just remembered number 2: Some famous guy I have never heard of named his kid Reignbeau. Reignbeau. Like 'Rainbow', except a thousand times douchier because the guy decided to invent his own way to spell it? Sensational. Somehow, I don't think anyone is going to give me a hard time for naming my first born 'Wentworth' after this.

Chelsea, Ellen, Rove, And The Invention Of The Square-Shaped Burger

Hello internet.
I've got something to talk about. You want to hear it?
Well, since Rove isn't on anymore and Ellen only airs in the middle of the day, I've had to find myself a new talkshow addiction. So I started watching this Chelsea Lately show on the E! Channel - mostly because I love E! and all things E!, but also because I think if Ellen Degeneres reads about me watching Chelsea...well, she might get jealous.
Jealous, Ellen?
Yoouuu'reeee jealous.

Anyway. The more I watch these American talkshows, the more I am reminded of, well, America. And, oh, America! What a magical place it is - full of wonder and opportunity and history and square-shaped hamburgers.
Seriously.
What is up, Australia? Or should I say, what is up with the lack of square-shaped hamburgers, Australia?
Why don't we have square-shaped hamburgers? Huh? Huh? Who should I be talking to about this? Kevin Rudd? Get on it, will you Kevin? Because I am feeling a void in my life, and it is shaped like a square.
...
A square-shaped hamburger.


Okay, and just so you guys know, I am not some freak crazed square-burger fan. Yes I am a freak, yes I am crazed, yes I like square-burgers and yes I...fan...things, but that's not why I brought it up. On tonight's episode of Chelsea Lately, they were talking about McDonalds vs Wendys. That's how the square-burger thing came up. Apparently in America, Wendys is a burger joint. A square-burger joint. Chelsea obviously loves the idea of square-shaped burgers as much as I do, because she said inventing a square-burger was like - and I quote - "thinking outside the burger box."
Huh. Thinking outside the burger box? Clearly, I am all for a square-shaped burger...but actually what I think they were doing was thinking exactly inside the burger box.
Get it?
Because a burger box is square?
And the burgers are square-shaped? Square-shaped burgers?

I should get paid for this stuff.

Happy 800th Post!

Happy Tuesday, everyone! Oh, and did I mention that it's my 800th post?
Yes, yes I did. Just thought I'd bring it up again. Because it's awesome. I'm practically a writer now! Well, no, not really. Not unless 'writer' actually means 'crazy person'.
Well, whatever. 800 posts! Awesome!
Yay for me.

Hey, speaking of things that are awesome - let's talk about Ellen Degeneres. I am a fan. I am definitely a fan of Ellen. Anyone who knows me knows this. My family especially, since whenever her show is on, I make them watch it. And then watch it again. And then listen to me as I talk about how one day, I'm going to be a guest on The Ellen Degeneres Show. When and why? I have absolutely no idea. All I know is that I will be naked, and Wentworth Miller will be there.
Oh, no, wait. That's a different day I'm thinking of.
Still, I've thought long and hard (haha, long and hard) about this, and I've officially decided that my belated-new-years-slash-celebratory-800th-post resolution is...

To Be Invited To Appear As A Guest On The Ellen Degeneres Show

Quite a feat, I am aware. But I think it's doable.

Ellen herself has made a new years resolution to become the most watched daytime television show host on the planet. She is calling it Ellen's Quest For World Domination. And since Ellen named her new years resolution, well, I thought it only appropriate that I name mine. So, ladies, gentlemen and non-human members of the Jacki Trew Fan Club - Welcome to...

JACKI'S QUEST FOR ELLEN DOMINATION

Holy crap, would you look at the size of that font? That's how enthusiastic I am about this. The size of that font enthusiastic. And yeah, I am aware that that makes no sense, but still! Welcome, like I just said 3 seconds ago, to Jacki's Quest For Ellen Domination. I can't give away too much of whats to come, but you can bet there will be YouTube videos, public humiliation, ridiculous facebook groups, and that at some point, I will be coercing Julia into driving me around Sydney with a handheld camera and a poster of Ellen's face.

Let the games begin!

Welcome to the new year, people. Are you liking it? Are you loving it? Are you still hung-over?

Brilliant.
Anyway, it seems kind of fruitless to have this conversation now, but lets talk about new years resolutions. Mine must have been to morph into Miss Anal Annie, because I've spent the last 2 and a half days organising my iPod in such a way that every song now has an accompanying piece of album art.


Every. Single. Song.


Do you have any idea how meticulous that is? More to the point, do you have any idea how pointless that is? But I don't care. It's done. It's finished. It looks pretty. And along the way, I discovered what must be the most retarded album cover in the history of music:

Oh yes. It's real. I know my use of the word 'retarded' just there might offend some people, but really - try to find a better adjective for that photograph. Go on, try. I dare you.
So, yeah. Other than that, my only resolution is to find a way onto The Ellen Degeneres Show. Also, I would enjoy marrying Wentworth Miller. All in a years work, I suppose.