Tag: tools


Ring Ring?

February 9th, 1999 — 12:08am

9; Febuary, 1999
Voice Outside the Window: “Joanna, you bitch, let me into your house”

Me: “Shirley you fucking ugly hoe, I’m in the shower. It’s not 11.30 yet, so you’re just going to have to wait for me, dumb bitch”

Ahhhhhhhhh friends are so the shit, bro. It’s so much fun to yell abuse and have them know that you don’t mean it. Shirley had woken me up at 10am anyways ringing me to tell me what I was doing today. So I went back to sleep until 11am, timing myself perfectly to be clean and dressed by the time she got to my place, at the designated half hour. But did SHE stick to the schedule? Noooo!

I guess I shouldn’t complain about her though, given that she spent an hour tightening up my bed. See, who needs a man when you have a best friend with a tool kit instead? My headboard doesn’t rock anymore – well – much – so that’s a bonus. Now I can bring people home to it. Hahahahaha yeah, cos the fact that it was rickety was really the only thing stopping me. Honest it was.

Oh my god, I nearly forgot – two of the former tenants came around to ask for the landlord’s number. I so hope they weren’t checking us out for stuff to steal, but HA! if they try it, cos we got the locks changed. They said that they were going to come around on thursday night to take the weights bench, but then after asking if any guys lived here (“YES, three of them” trying to imply like they were big and would beat up any intruders) they said they’d leave it for them. So I gave him the landlord’s number, and their mail. One of them was actually quite cute. They laughed at all the mess and boxes in the hall when I told them that we’d moved in ages ago. It’s like “um, excuse me? you guys are the junkies. I laugh at you”. I didn’t say that though. I should have gotten a forwarding address off them for mail and our assorted weirdo visitors, but I was too shocked at meeting the people that I’d scoffed at so much that I wasn’t thinking straight.

Shirley told me that her new flat has a phone jack in the toilet. We were trying to if that was more dodgy than heroin users. I think it was a tie.

Anyways, once we had that done, we went to Saint Lukes for lunch, and to buy jewellary. Ever really really get cravings for Chinese food? And then you eat it, and it’s so repulisive it puts the cravings to rest for a couple of weeks? Well, it was one of those days. The best Chinese I’ve ever eaten was from the shop near Charly’s house, in Papanui, chch. But I think I will have to keep on searching. It’s become like my life’s mission to find a place serving Chinese that I’d ever go back to.

So yeah, after lunch, we went into Michael Hill, because Shirley has to replace all her jewellary that got stolen when she was burgled, and she has to spend $300 at Michael Hill. Ewww the jewellery was all so hideously generic and mass produced. Give me something from Texan Art Schools or even Glitz any day over that. Even Shirley, different as our tastes are, didn’t like the stuff in Michael Hill, so I busied myself pointing out engagement rings she could buy me. No, we’re not getting married – but hey! Of course, my taste tended to run to the most expensive items in the store. If any of you viewers at home have a craving to buy me rings, I like single set diamonds, as large as possible and as simple as possible. Either that or diamond/ruby or diamond/emerald combinations. Actually, I have a diamond/ameythst/pearl choker from my grandmother, so maybe you could buy me a diamond and ameythst ring, even though ameythsts aren’t as valuable as emeralds and rubies. Choice, glad we’ve gotten that out of the way.

After that we swung past her place on Mount Eden Road to load up the car, and went out to their new house in Ellerslie (yeah I know they’re nuts for giving up their house and location, but it was only 2 bedrooms and too expensive for Shirley once she goes back to tech and isn’t working full time). So yeah, her new house isn’t half as nice in my opinion, but she apparently likes it better which is cool. I have to admit their bathroom is very stylely – huge and with the tub in the middle of the room. However it’s nuts, cos you have to go through the bathroom to get to the back door. The toilet is has a phone jack in it, like I have already mentioned, but thought I’d reinforce, and carpet. So yeah, that’s perculiar. That word is spelt so wrong, but oh well.

Shirley dropped me off home and I geeked for a weeny bit, before taking a great big long nap. Ahhhhhhh bliss. It’s going to be a quiet night in tonight, like every night. I had a dream while napping that I discovered some bottles of red wine I’d been hoarding and I was both really happy and also pissed off I hadn’t drunk them earlier. But it was just a dream.

Isn’t it funny when ALL of your friends give you like nearly identical advice, and you know that it’s the right thing to do and everything except there’s absolutely no way in hell you’re going to do it because that would make too much sense but also because you’ve had like really really nasty experiances doing the same thing before?

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She’s Dead… Wrapped in Plastic

February 6th, 1999 — 12:06am

Saturday 6; Febuary, 1999 – Waitangi Day
When I woke up, I thought I was in bed with Kate. I was wrong. I was in bed with Theresa. I don’t remember her coming home at all, but apparently I woke up and talked to her until she told me to go back to sleep, whereupon I replied “Sweetass Bro” and did so.

Then we had another interesting conversation when Kate jumped on the bed with us.

Theresa: “Kate, did you throw up last night?”

Kate: “No”

Joanna: (giggles)

Theresa: “Joanna, did you throw up last night?”

Joanna: (giggles) “No”

Theresa: “Yes you did, I found your tshirt. Where’s my towel?”

Kate and Joanna: (giggles)

Theresa: “You used it to clean up vomit didn’t you?”

Kate and Joanna: (giggles)

The moral of the story is that Kate drove me home at 8am, and I gave her some nice fluffy towels, cutlery and one of the phones to take home with her. Then I grabbed a big bottle of water and tumbled into bed. I got up again at 12.30pm cos my BED was finally delivered. YAAAAAAAY.

So I looked at the pieces of it for a while and went back to bed, but I couldn’t sleep so I had a really long nauseous shower, got dressed, and decided to assemble the fucker.

God I wish I had a man, and that man had a tool kit. Two hours later, my bed was all in one piece, only the head and footboard are kinda loose. Like, hitting the wall with the slightest movement kind of loose. But I guess that makes it more exciting in a rickety old whorehouse kind of way. Better fill in the form.

So yeah. Later I took a nap on the bed, leaving it wrapped in its plastic shroud. I felt like a piece of meat on a butcher’s counter. That was kinda cool. I felt ill all day. The Wendy’s I got for dinner actually made me feel better. That’s sick and just wrong.

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