Pants with Prizes?!

Well, holy McDooley, I am most honoured to announce I received an award today via the luscious News With Nipples for my mad blogging skillz *cough*. I still can't believe anybody actually reads this WITHOUT the threat of battery acid being thrown in their face, much less that anyone may actually enjoy/relate to any of this drivel...

But for serious! Here is it! Behold it in all its splendiferous splendour!

So part of this deal is that I divulge seven details you may not yet know about my fine self... So here goes:


1. I can't spell for shit: Probably not too much of a surprise to those of you who are regular readers. Even then, I regularly re-edit my posts at least twice. Somewhat of a worry seeing as one of my future incarnations will be as a high school English teacher. This shortcoming was humblingly made even more  apparent when, in a class of severely language delayed Year 9 students, my spelling of 'humungous'  was corrected by one of the students. FML. And thank sweet jebus for spell check.


2. I have a clit piercing: At the age of 19, after a break up with a boring twat who was to become my long term partner, I got on a bus on a 35 degree day and hauled myself to Newtown, where a skinny weird guy shoved a sharp needle into a fairly sensitive region of my lady-region. That was awkward. Luckily I had the foresight to swipe a refresher towel from KFC to give my panty-region a bit of a freshen up (stingy) as boiling hot days plus a sweaty bus seat does not a fresh vagina maketh.  Too much information? Probably! Anyway, its one of my very prized possessions and has brought me much happiness. [edited to add: I'm talking about the piercing here, not the KFC towel. Cause keeping that around like some peverted mini vaginal safety blanket would be just gross.] And you should see the looks on the faces of the unsuspecting!

3. I once had a hypnotherapist who was a  postoperative transgender lesbian: and I didn't end up any gayer. I was trying to break a lot of anger, regret and resentful feelings towards men in my past, and by jingo it worked. Not straight away, mind. By nowadays I can flick a mofo out of my life quicker than you can say snarky text message. Perhaps that has worked a little too well.

4. I have an extreme aversion to used teabags: They remind me of used tampons (kinda of cheating, some of you already know this).

5. I was extremely shy until about age 16: I used to hide in the toilets at lunch time when I was in Year 9 <--- awwwwwww. But now I'm pretty much extrovert central, even if I am still occasionaly a total social misfit.

6. My brother isn't the only crazy person in my family: My daddy lost the plot in amazing Springer-esque fashion when I was 14 - 19. Attempts to jump out windows, (prescription) drug overdoses, drawn out obsessive fighting with the Attorney General's Department (go Dad!), mental health wards, Rehab (sex, pot, prescription drug addictions), AA. Which all sounds really shit. And it was. I ran away form home when I was 17 and stayed with friends and extended family whilst I was doing my HSC. But you know? I friggen love my Dad. He fucked up. I get it, he gets it. And he has tried really hard to fix it, and I wouldn't swap him for any other dad in the world. Oh, and then there's me......

7. I have been attacked by a disproportionate number of animals: Including - dogs, ducks, wallabies, kookaburras, giraffes and dolphins. I wouldn't trust flipper for shit.
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There! I hope you have a little more insight into La Pants (pro-tip: I now refer to myself as Pants in internal dialogue. taking blogging a little too seriously, perhaps?)

I would now like to pass on this honour to some other bloggers of merit: Kitty, Sulky Girl, and Staple Gun (who doubtlessly won't participate as he is (a) notoriously non-disclosive and (b) not regularly friggen blogging anymore, the bastard). Post your 7 items, lovers, I'll be a waiting.

xx

love