Thursday, October 1, 2015

Wolf spiders and fisting pies.

Audrey, doing her best Joe Hockey.


So I have had a shit couple of weeks. Nothing I can’t handle because I am a soldier damnit.

Mostly I have just been overwhelmed. Y’all know that I sometimes over commit myself, I end up with so many fingers, knuckle deep  in so many pies that I just punch a fist a fist in, and there I am fisting away at so many pies that I forget why I liked that pie enough to finger it in the first place.

I have to go back to Uni soon, but the THOUGHT of it, man…I just get overwhelmed with stuff sometimes.

When I get overwhelmed I clean. I don’t just dust and run a mop over… No. I angry-frenzy clean, I move furniture around and I purge stuff. I throw everything in garbage bags in a trenchant manner like the mere existence of it offends me.

Speaking of which I bought something else off the TV. It’s a mop that spins. My mate bought one and convinced me to buy one, (You should totally follow her on twitter, we will absolutely have a sports commentary podcast together one day, and it will be hilarious)
At any rate, being overwhelmed puts me in a foul mood, which isn’t just unpleasant to be around; it is unpleasant to look at.

Seriously, have you seen my face? I suffer terribly from resting bitchy face at the best of times let alone when I actually have the shits. 

My cat also suffers from bitchy resting face.

Audrey, perpetually looking like she is cracking a sad.


Meanwhile, I packed the children off to Nans for a few days, and I am putting my frustrated energy into getting shit done. Shit I put off for ages, like the linen cupboard and the laundry.

Fuck my laundry... It’s... fuck it.

This morning, I took a break from fisting pies, and I decided to get rid of an old dead palm plant that I had been staring at for ages thinking… I really should chuck that thing out, but I never do because.. FISTING. Nothing says I am a lazy, un-nurturing, time poor person like dead house plants. I have a house full of them and it is time for them to go.

Anyway, I picked up the old dead palm, and carried it to the front door. I proceeded to open the front door when I felt a strange pinching sensation on my left bird flipping finger. I peered around the pot to see a half squashed wolf spider literally FANGING into my finger tip.

I’ll wait a minute for all the readers who don’t live in Australia to google Wolf Spider, scream, vow never to visit Australia and then come back here to read the rest of this story.

Luckily for me, my many years of hacking away on the guitar have rendered the tips of my man hands, as hard as leather, and the half dead wolf spider could not penetrate the skin.

I dropped the pot, and by dropping it I mean hurling it toward the door while I danced the jig of spider violation. 

It is an interesting interpretative dance made up of moves such as shuddering, flailing limbs, screeching and inspecting one’s self all over to make sure the spider is no longer on you.

THEN, I couldn’t find the spider.

It was surely somewhere plotting its revenge.

I felt so violated… I couldn’t stop the sensation that something was crawling on me, I needed Ricky Martin to come over, hold me, stoke my hair and in his soothing accent say things like;

“There, there darling”
“The spider is gone now”
Show Ricky exactly where the spider touched you”

And I would answer;

“EVERYWHERE RICKY!!! EVERYWHERE!!! MAKE IT STOP!!!” While I sobbed uncontrollably and jumped occasionally, when a strand of my own hair brushed on my neck.

But Ricky never came, because fuck my life... So I had to make do with listening to my iPod and spraying everything with surface spray. 

When I calmed down I remembered that video that Manu Fieldel made me, remember that? When I made him say my name over and over and tell me his favourite cocktail for an occasion of nerves such as this one?

So soothing.

I’ll put the video here so you can calm yourself after reading this.


Enjoy. xx

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