When the holidays are coming up and you start to think about what you're going to do with your two weeks off, you make plans. Big plans. Epic plans. Plans that you have every intention of following through with. Plans you will eventually abandon.
LAUREN'S SEPTEMBER HOLIDAY GOAL: go back to writing that abandoned novel. The shell is there. Most of it is already written. It just needs some tweaking, right?
The original plan was to edit a chapter a day. But thanks to Facebook, Youtube, and convincing myself that I was working by planning out what songs will be in the soundtrack when my novel gets adapted into a film, I was finding it hard to focus. Then, in a brief moment when I was actually managing to get some work done, I was distracted again.
I like to have dictionary.com and thesaurus.com open in another window when I write because I’m prepared to admit that I don't know that many words. And the ones I do know, don't always turn out to mean what I think they do (eg. 'circumvent,' 'masticate' and 'cockchafer.' Next time you’re on dictionary.com, search that last one and click on the little speaker thingy next to it. It never stops being funny. I promise).
thesaurus.com made itself a not-so-powerful enemy when it decided that in its list of alternatives to the word 'cry,' it was going to offer up this little gem: 'ejaculate.'
I'm sorry, but that substitution is going to change the tone of my story. A lot. 'As he watched his daughter leave, he could feel himself start to ejaculate.' No thank you, sir. I won't be buying any incest today.
'Ejaculate' (for most people) is not the same thing as 'cry.' Is thesaurus.com run under the same principals as Wikipedia? And if so, why hasn't anyone told me? How many words have I been misusing?
I'm not the only person who would lose the tone of their work if this were the case. Elvis once sang about Crying in the Chapel. Then think about the impact it would have on the likes of Boys Don't Cry, No Woman, No Cry, Don't Cry For Me, Argentina and most worrying of all, Cry Me a River.
It puts a new slant on the saying 'no use crying over spilt milk.'
Friday, September 24, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
The Origin of Phrases - Part 2
Between the devil and the deep blue sea
While Satan is out sailing on warm Sunday afternoons, he likes to whisper his secrets to the ocean. He’s surprisingly deep. Like the ocean.
Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth
When hired to replace the broken butter machine behind the snack bar at his local cinema, a young employee quickly learned that butter melts faster if you sit on it.
Blood is thicker than water
From a recent campaign in Australia where the government tried to deal with the drought by convincing the public to drink blood instead of water. They claimed it contained more nutrients and was therefore better for you. Only the Twilight fans were up for it.
Bubble and squeak
One of the world’s first children’s television programs, Bubble and Squeak was the story of a bar of soap (Bubble) and a rubber duck (Squeak) who lived together in a bathtub. It was taken off the air just two minutes into the first episode when a buxom blonde entered the tub and Bubble ended up all over her.
They’re like chalk and cheese
Used to describe a pale person and their stinky, jaundiced friend.
Cloud nine
When God did his rough draft of the sky he only managed to draw nine clouds before his white crayon snapped. With only red, brown, orange and yellow left intact, he moved on to planning the deserts.
Cold feet
The first man to miss his wedding did so after losing his feet to frostbite when his best man wrongly assumed it would be a brilliant buck’s night prank to leave him drunk and passed out halfway up Mt Everest.
The buck stops here
A signpost you’ll find halfway up Mt Everest.
Cold enough to freeze the balls of a brass monkey
The now extinct brass monkey was the most fertile of all creatures.
Bury the hatchet
What those of us who studied Gary Paulson’s Hatchet in highschool would like to do to that novel.
Curiosity killed the cat
First used when a cat who clearly hadn’t seen enough horror movies went to investigate a strange noise.
The cat’s out of the bag
Refers to the curious cat's attempted escape.
A cock and bull story
In the late 16th/early 17th centuries, a rooster and bull co-wrote a number of remarkable plays. In an attempt to stop the public from making a fuss about the abilities of his magic writing animals, the farmer who owned them tried to cover it up by attaching the pseudonym ‘William Shakespeare’ to the plays.
While Satan is out sailing on warm Sunday afternoons, he likes to whisper his secrets to the ocean. He’s surprisingly deep. Like the ocean.
Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth
When hired to replace the broken butter machine behind the snack bar at his local cinema, a young employee quickly learned that butter melts faster if you sit on it.
Blood is thicker than water
From a recent campaign in Australia where the government tried to deal with the drought by convincing the public to drink blood instead of water. They claimed it contained more nutrients and was therefore better for you. Only the Twilight fans were up for it.
Bubble and squeak
One of the world’s first children’s television programs, Bubble and Squeak was the story of a bar of soap (Bubble) and a rubber duck (Squeak) who lived together in a bathtub. It was taken off the air just two minutes into the first episode when a buxom blonde entered the tub and Bubble ended up all over her.
They’re like chalk and cheese
Used to describe a pale person and their stinky, jaundiced friend.
Cloud nine
When God did his rough draft of the sky he only managed to draw nine clouds before his white crayon snapped. With only red, brown, orange and yellow left intact, he moved on to planning the deserts.
Cold feet
The first man to miss his wedding did so after losing his feet to frostbite when his best man wrongly assumed it would be a brilliant buck’s night prank to leave him drunk and passed out halfway up Mt Everest.
The buck stops here
A signpost you’ll find halfway up Mt Everest.
Cold enough to freeze the balls of a brass monkey
The now extinct brass monkey was the most fertile of all creatures.
Bury the hatchet
What those of us who studied Gary Paulson’s Hatchet in highschool would like to do to that novel.
Curiosity killed the cat
First used when a cat who clearly hadn’t seen enough horror movies went to investigate a strange noise.
The cat’s out of the bag
Refers to the curious cat's attempted escape.
A cock and bull story
In the late 16th/early 17th centuries, a rooster and bull co-wrote a number of remarkable plays. In an attempt to stop the public from making a fuss about the abilities of his magic writing animals, the farmer who owned them tried to cover it up by attaching the pseudonym ‘William Shakespeare’ to the plays.
Friday, September 10, 2010
The Origin of Phrases - Part 1
A fate worse than death
This phrase became popular with the invention of the job ‘waitress.’
A fish out of water
Originally used to describe people who, when in a place or situation they are unfamiliar with, proceed to flop around on the floor for a bit before suffocating.
A foot in the door
In the aftermath of a grizzly murder, a dismembered foot became lodged in the letter slot of the victim's front door. This angered the postman, who complained to the council that it was impairing his ability to do his job properly. Postmen are no longer legally obligated to put mail through any slot that contains a human limb.
A picture is worth a thousand words
This line was used by one particular trickster who managed to purchase several valuable artworks by trading short stories about the exploits of a promiscuous rabbit named ‘Bunny.’
A skeleton in the closet
See ‘a foot in the door’ and fill in the blanks.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing
Sheep clothing used to be far cheaper than wolf clothing, and due to the state of the economic climate, many wolves decided to settle.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
An early break up line preferred by many to ‘I would quite like you to go away’ and ‘You shit me.’
Age before beauty
An early pick up line used by old men at medieval speed dating nights in an attempt to convince the young wenches to go to bed with them instead of the sexy young chain-mail-clad knights.
All that glitters is not gold
This lesson was learned during the great glitter swindle of 1922.
An apple a day keeps the doctor away
After learning of the direct link between garlic and keeping vampires at bay, a young man mistakenly believed that the best way to spread the message was through a game of Chinese whispers. Hundreds of people needlessly died.
All the tea in China
China was without tea for a brief period in the 1960s when an eccentric millionaire bought it all. He just really liked tea.
An eye for an eye
The equivalent of ‘take a penny, leave a penny’ from the days when eyes were used as currency.
As busy as a bee
Before Albert Einstein invented science it was widely accepted by mankind that bees controlled the universe.
As cool as a cucumber
Used in the days before refrigeration to imply that someone was quite hot.
As easy as pie
Highlighted in the film ‘American Pie,’ pies are generally up for it anytime, anywhere, with anyone.
As happy as Larry
Larry owned a pie shop.
This phrase became popular with the invention of the job ‘waitress.’
A fish out of water
Originally used to describe people who, when in a place or situation they are unfamiliar with, proceed to flop around on the floor for a bit before suffocating.
A foot in the door
In the aftermath of a grizzly murder, a dismembered foot became lodged in the letter slot of the victim's front door. This angered the postman, who complained to the council that it was impairing his ability to do his job properly. Postmen are no longer legally obligated to put mail through any slot that contains a human limb.
A picture is worth a thousand words
This line was used by one particular trickster who managed to purchase several valuable artworks by trading short stories about the exploits of a promiscuous rabbit named ‘Bunny.’
A skeleton in the closet
See ‘a foot in the door’ and fill in the blanks.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing
Sheep clothing used to be far cheaper than wolf clothing, and due to the state of the economic climate, many wolves decided to settle.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
An early break up line preferred by many to ‘I would quite like you to go away’ and ‘You shit me.’
Age before beauty
An early pick up line used by old men at medieval speed dating nights in an attempt to convince the young wenches to go to bed with them instead of the sexy young chain-mail-clad knights.
All that glitters is not gold
This lesson was learned during the great glitter swindle of 1922.
An apple a day keeps the doctor away
After learning of the direct link between garlic and keeping vampires at bay, a young man mistakenly believed that the best way to spread the message was through a game of Chinese whispers. Hundreds of people needlessly died.
All the tea in China
China was without tea for a brief period in the 1960s when an eccentric millionaire bought it all. He just really liked tea.
An eye for an eye
The equivalent of ‘take a penny, leave a penny’ from the days when eyes were used as currency.
As busy as a bee
Before Albert Einstein invented science it was widely accepted by mankind that bees controlled the universe.
As cool as a cucumber
Used in the days before refrigeration to imply that someone was quite hot.
As easy as pie
Highlighted in the film ‘American Pie,’ pies are generally up for it anytime, anywhere, with anyone.
As happy as Larry
Larry owned a pie shop.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Justin Beiber's Autobiography ***ADAVANCE COPY***
I've been sick the last few days, so this week's blog comes to you courtesy of the Beib.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Come and play, everything's A-OK
Someone has to do something about the current state of Australian politics, but who can say what the answer is? Me. I can. So here’s my solution: replace all the politicians in each party with the cast of Sesame Street. It wouldn’t be that different really, most of the people who get into politics are Muppets.
Prime Minister: Elmo
Who could possibly stay mad at this guy?
‘Prime Minister Elmo is raising taxes.’
What a bastard.
‘But Prime Minister Elmo still loves you.’
Good point. Let’s tickle him!
Minister for Small Business: Maria
She’s kept the Fix-It shop going for years, thanks to a suspicious amount of broken toasters on Sesame Street. Clearly this woman is prepared to take matters into her own hands.
Minister for Finance: The Count
Let’s face it, he’s not going to mess up the numbers.
Minister for Health: Cookie Monster
Screw it, have a cookie. And some cake. And a deep fried Mars Bar. Then you too, can be as happy as this googley eyed, blue ball of fun.
Minister for the Arts: Prairie Dawn
The girl has wicked piano skills and plenty of experience directing plays full of incompetent fools. The position would have gone to Cookie Monster had it not been for the tragic cancellation of Monsterpiece Theatre.
Minister for Education: Big Bird
He thinks he knows everything. Making him prove it will hopefully wipe that smug look off his face.
Minister for Human Services: Gordon
Because he is a human. (I don’t know if he services)
Minister for Transport: Snuffleupagus
We can ride him.
Minister for Defence: Super Grover
Yes, he falls out of the sky occasionally, but he’s a freakin superhero.
Minister for Immigration: Oscar
No paperwork? Scram.
Minister for the Environment: Kermit the Frog
He was only on the show occasionally, but if anyone knows it’s not easy being green, it’s this guy.
If you would like to know more about why Bert & Ernie are not to be trusted with such matters, please refer to this post.
Prime Minister: Elmo
Who could possibly stay mad at this guy?
‘Prime Minister Elmo is raising taxes.’
What a bastard.
‘But Prime Minister Elmo still loves you.’
Good point. Let’s tickle him!
Minister for Small Business: Maria
She’s kept the Fix-It shop going for years, thanks to a suspicious amount of broken toasters on Sesame Street. Clearly this woman is prepared to take matters into her own hands.
Minister for Finance: The Count
Let’s face it, he’s not going to mess up the numbers.
Minister for Health: Cookie Monster
Screw it, have a cookie. And some cake. And a deep fried Mars Bar. Then you too, can be as happy as this googley eyed, blue ball of fun.
Minister for the Arts: Prairie Dawn
The girl has wicked piano skills and plenty of experience directing plays full of incompetent fools. The position would have gone to Cookie Monster had it not been for the tragic cancellation of Monsterpiece Theatre.
Minister for Education: Big Bird
He thinks he knows everything. Making him prove it will hopefully wipe that smug look off his face.
Minister for Human Services: Gordon
Because he is a human. (I don’t know if he services)
Minister for Transport: Snuffleupagus
We can ride him.
Minister for Defence: Super Grover
Yes, he falls out of the sky occasionally, but he’s a freakin superhero.
Minister for Immigration: Oscar
No paperwork? Scram.
Minister for the Environment: Kermit the Frog
He was only on the show occasionally, but if anyone knows it’s not easy being green, it’s this guy.
If you would like to know more about why Bert & Ernie are not to be trusted with such matters, please refer to this post.
Friday, August 20, 2010
My (super, awesome, and not mundane at all) Life
Saturday & Sunday:
Sleep. Food. Shopping. Find a box set of Robbie the Reindeer in a bargain bin and watch all 3 in a row while swooning over the sound of Ardal O'Hanlon's sweet, sweet voice. More food. More sleep. God bless you, weekend.
Monday:
Get up at 4:30 to start work in the coffee shop at 6:00. Less than 10 minutes into my shift, I accidentally punch myself in the face while trying to remove the cover from a display fridge.
Sit through a four hour editing class where we learn about something to do with editing. Yawn a lot from a combination of sleep deprivation and lack of enthusiasm for editing.
A mysterious absence of peak hour traffic means I make it home in 40 minutes less time than the Monday before. I count this as a win.
I forget it is bin night and, for the third week in a row, have to put the bins out while wearing my PJs.
Check for a bruise from the morning punch. No sign yet. I count this as another win.
Tuesday:
Still no bruise. Morning class means I get to sleep in until 7:00. I realise how pathetic it is that I’m stoked about this.
It’s freaking freezing.
Go to my novel class and listen to people discuss books I haven’t read. This makes me hungry.
Quick trip to the supermarket for bread and milk results in the purchase of chips, biscuits, and several Kit Kats. I then try to unlock the wrong car in the car park. I learn not to park next to cars that look like mine.
Night ends with ice cream and a quality episode of QI.
Wednesday:
The alarm goes off while I’m having a dream about Whoopi Goldberg and Julia Gillard auditioning for American Idol. They are wearing those white ABBA jumpsuits. After a disastrous audition, Whoopi pleads for a chance to perform solo. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see how it ended. I’m sure she did awesome.
Computer skills class finishes two and a half hours early after we learn how to insert a text box into a word document. This is still more interesting than the class where we learned how to copy and paste text. Now I can copy and paste like a mofo. Now I can copy and paste like a mofo. Now I can copy and paste like a mofo.
Get home and sit down to work on an assignment. I make a new playlist on my iPod instead.
I reach the conclusion that living alone is not for me when I consider how long it’s been since I’ve eaten a meal with a knife and fork.
Thursday:
Attempt to work on that assignment again. I write two lines then decide I deserve a three hour break.
Off to school for a night class, where the conversation revolves around Tony Abbott, buying transvestites on the internet, and elephants stealing your credit card to pay for hookers. There is also a brief mention of a monkey in bondage. This is the Australian education system at its best.
Sitting outside during break, I regret the decision not to wear a belt today. Icy wind meets my bum. A lot.
Today:
Another early morning shift at work, where I watch a coworker do an impression of the genie from Aladdin doing an impression of Jack Nicholson. This is some of the weirdest shit I’ve seen in a long time. A discussion of Disney films ensues, and I put forward my feelings that Cinderella didn’t make the most of those dress making mice. But let’s face it, she wasn’t very opportunistic. How many years did she spend cleaning for those skanks? Exactly.
I spend far too long in a discount bookshop because they have acquired some kind of magical Queen compilation CD, and I’m pretty sure it’s against the law to exit a building when Bohemian Rhapsody is playing. Or Fat Bottomed Girls. Or Don’t Stop Me Now.
Nothing else happens today. I consider smearing poo on the walls just so I’ll have something to write about, but everyone knows girls don’t poo.
Sleep. Food. Shopping. Find a box set of Robbie the Reindeer in a bargain bin and watch all 3 in a row while swooning over the sound of Ardal O'Hanlon's sweet, sweet voice. More food. More sleep. God bless you, weekend.
Monday:
Get up at 4:30 to start work in the coffee shop at 6:00. Less than 10 minutes into my shift, I accidentally punch myself in the face while trying to remove the cover from a display fridge.
Sit through a four hour editing class where we learn about something to do with editing. Yawn a lot from a combination of sleep deprivation and lack of enthusiasm for editing.
A mysterious absence of peak hour traffic means I make it home in 40 minutes less time than the Monday before. I count this as a win.
I forget it is bin night and, for the third week in a row, have to put the bins out while wearing my PJs.
Check for a bruise from the morning punch. No sign yet. I count this as another win.
Tuesday:
Still no bruise. Morning class means I get to sleep in until 7:00. I realise how pathetic it is that I’m stoked about this.
It’s freaking freezing.
Go to my novel class and listen to people discuss books I haven’t read. This makes me hungry.
Quick trip to the supermarket for bread and milk results in the purchase of chips, biscuits, and several Kit Kats. I then try to unlock the wrong car in the car park. I learn not to park next to cars that look like mine.
Night ends with ice cream and a quality episode of QI.
Wednesday:
The alarm goes off while I’m having a dream about Whoopi Goldberg and Julia Gillard auditioning for American Idol. They are wearing those white ABBA jumpsuits. After a disastrous audition, Whoopi pleads for a chance to perform solo. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see how it ended. I’m sure she did awesome.
Computer skills class finishes two and a half hours early after we learn how to insert a text box into a word document. This is still more interesting than the class where we learned how to copy and paste text. Now I can copy and paste like a mofo. Now I can copy and paste like a mofo. Now I can copy and paste like a mofo.
Get home and sit down to work on an assignment. I make a new playlist on my iPod instead.
I reach the conclusion that living alone is not for me when I consider how long it’s been since I’ve eaten a meal with a knife and fork.
Thursday:
Attempt to work on that assignment again. I write two lines then decide I deserve a three hour break.
Off to school for a night class, where the conversation revolves around Tony Abbott, buying transvestites on the internet, and elephants stealing your credit card to pay for hookers. There is also a brief mention of a monkey in bondage. This is the Australian education system at its best.
Sitting outside during break, I regret the decision not to wear a belt today. Icy wind meets my bum. A lot.
Today:
Another early morning shift at work, where I watch a coworker do an impression of the genie from Aladdin doing an impression of Jack Nicholson. This is some of the weirdest shit I’ve seen in a long time. A discussion of Disney films ensues, and I put forward my feelings that Cinderella didn’t make the most of those dress making mice. But let’s face it, she wasn’t very opportunistic. How many years did she spend cleaning for those skanks? Exactly.
I spend far too long in a discount bookshop because they have acquired some kind of magical Queen compilation CD, and I’m pretty sure it’s against the law to exit a building when Bohemian Rhapsody is playing. Or Fat Bottomed Girls. Or Don’t Stop Me Now.
Nothing else happens today. I consider smearing poo on the walls just so I’ll have something to write about, but everyone knows girls don’t poo.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Tatts Life
I love tattoos. Not all of them, obviously. If you’ve got a Playboy bunny on your lower back you should be taken outside and shot. Or if you’re that guy I saw at the train station last year who had giant sperm tattooed swimming across the back of his neck, you need some kind of mental evaluation. How drunk do you have to be to think that’s a good idea?
Drunk man: ‘Hello.’
Tattoo artist: ‘Hello.’
DM: ‘Neck sperm please.’
TA: ‘No worries mate. Do you want them to scale?’
DM: ‘No, I think giant would be a more visually effective size.’
TA: ‘And you want them right under your chin there?’
DM: ‘Nah, you’d better put them on the back of my neck. I don’t want people thinking I’m some kind of freak.’
I’ve never taken the painful-inky-plunge myself, mostly due to needle phobia and commitment issues (forever is a sOOper long time). I’m an art lover, but I’d prefer to have something that I can take down, put in the back of the cupboard and never have to look at again if I ever get sick of it. I’d love to be in the room the day that Captain Sperm Neck has to explain the sperm neck to the grandkids.
I reckon when I’m old I’ll go for it, when there are no consequences to my actions because death is just around the corner. I’ll shave my eyebrows off and replace them with The Very Hungry Caterpillar, freak people out at Bingo by getting numbered balls all the way up my arms, or get a Salvador Dali moustache tattooed on my upper lip (though by that age, like most old ladies, I’ll probably have the ability to grow one). Anyhoo, here’s this:
WHAT YOUR TATTOO SAYS ABOUT YOU
LOVE and HATE on your knuckles = ‘I’m gonna regret this.’
Chinese symbols = ‘I’m a wanker.’ (Rule doesn’t apply to the Chinese)
Zodiac symbols = ‘I’m gullable.’
Skull = ‘I like rainbows and unicorns and I’m very insecure about it.’
Anchor = ‘I’m a pirate. Arr!’
Compass = ‘I’m lost. Please assist me.’
Snake = ‘I'm desperate for you to think I’m edgy.’
Yin Yang = ‘I’m not very creative so like, I went with this coz like, I’ve seen it in heaps of places and like, it means something deep. Right?’
Gun = ‘Ima mug you now! LOL!’
Drunk man: ‘Hello.’
Tattoo artist: ‘Hello.’
DM: ‘Neck sperm please.’
TA: ‘No worries mate. Do you want them to scale?’
DM: ‘No, I think giant would be a more visually effective size.’
TA: ‘And you want them right under your chin there?’
DM: ‘Nah, you’d better put them on the back of my neck. I don’t want people thinking I’m some kind of freak.’
I’ve never taken the painful-inky-plunge myself, mostly due to needle phobia and commitment issues (forever is a sOOper long time). I’m an art lover, but I’d prefer to have something that I can take down, put in the back of the cupboard and never have to look at again if I ever get sick of it. I’d love to be in the room the day that Captain Sperm Neck has to explain the sperm neck to the grandkids.
I reckon when I’m old I’ll go for it, when there are no consequences to my actions because death is just around the corner. I’ll shave my eyebrows off and replace them with The Very Hungry Caterpillar, freak people out at Bingo by getting numbered balls all the way up my arms, or get a Salvador Dali moustache tattooed on my upper lip (though by that age, like most old ladies, I’ll probably have the ability to grow one). Anyhoo, here’s this:
WHAT YOUR TATTOO SAYS ABOUT YOU
LOVE and HATE on your knuckles = ‘I’m gonna regret this.’
Chinese symbols = ‘I’m a wanker.’ (Rule doesn’t apply to the Chinese)
Zodiac symbols = ‘I’m gullable.’
Skull = ‘I like rainbows and unicorns and I’m very insecure about it.’
Anchor = ‘I’m a pirate. Arr!’
Compass = ‘I’m lost. Please assist me.’
Snake = ‘I'm desperate for you to think I’m edgy.’
Yin Yang = ‘I’m not very creative so like, I went with this coz like, I’ve seen it in heaps of places and like, it means something deep. Right?’
Gun = ‘Ima mug you now! LOL!’
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