Presented without comment

Please don't judge her too harshly!

...and why you should hire her to make ads for you

Do you lose your stuff often? Can't find it?
Already late, but can't go anywhere without your car keys?

Then we have the app for you!

Created by NoCoTech.

...and the half-completed blog post

Last night, I saw the Flaming Lips for the first time. It was, hands down, the most amazing and most wonderful gig I have ever seen in my entire life. SO MANY BALLOONS!

Also, here is a picture that I drew of a ladybug that I found at a mates place a week or two ago.

...and the fear of pegs

I was one of those babies that always got into mischief when Mum and Dad weren’t looking. They discovered this fairly early on in my life, and so they made sure that one of them always had an eye on me. Mum took me pretty much everywhere that she went. I splashed in the mud while she did some gardening. I crawled about the kitchen floor while she prepared dinner. I sat under the clothesline while she hung out the laundry to dry.

This last one was my favourite. I loved sitting under the clothesline and pulling at the clothes that Mum had just hung up, often succeeding in ripping them off of the line. Of course, Mum did not find this as hilarious as I did, so she devised a cunning plan to prevent me from re-dirtying the previously clean laundry.

She covered me with pegs. An ingenious idea. I would be too distracted by removing the pegs to pull at the washing, leaving her with enough time to finish her task, for once. She ended up with more than enough time to finish hanging out the washing, because like any other child less than a year old, my fine motor skills hadn’t quiiiiite developed yet, and a task as simple as removing pegs from clothing was an arduous and difficult task.

It was around about this time frame where I developed a mild fear of pegs. While they didn’t hurt me in the slightest, I came to fear the pegs being clipped on to me every time Mum went to do the washing. 

And that’s how I learned not to pull the washing off the clothesline.

...but the arm was broken

The high school I went to used to try and make the last week of school fun for those in year 8 and 9. One of the days was a trip to the pool, a couple were spent at school, but doing fun activities, and another was a class excursion that didn't have to be educational. When I was in year 8, I was looking forward to the excursion. My class was going to go ice skating and tobogganing, which is a big deal when you live in Australia because it's never cold enough for anything to actually freeze over on its own. I'd been ice-skating several times before, but it was still going to be THE BEST AND MOST AWESOME DAY EVER because ice skating is fun, and tobogganing even more so.

On the day of the excursion, we got to school, we went on the bus to the ice-skating centre, and we strapped our hired skates on excitedly when we got there, all ready for a fun session of ice-skating before a fun session of tobogganing. Now, the centre has two skating rinks; a small one for little kids and people who aren't confident at skating, and a big one for those more proficient at it. I was fairly confident with my ability to skate, so I went straight to the big rink.

So there I was, happily skating around confidently, some of my classmates watching over the barrier between the two rinks. Then I saw some speed-skaters whoosh past, so I decided to see how fast I could skate. I got the hang of it quickly, and was whooshing around the rink myself, when out of nowhere, a small child who was definitely NOT confident enough to be on the big rink came wobbling across my path. I tried to stop to avoid colliding with this kid, managed to avoid him, but fell, and landed VERY heavily on my left wrist. I pulled myself up off the ice, noticed that my left hand was dangling uselessly and that my wrist looked a bit bumpier than usual. 

I went off to find my teacher, who promptly freaked out and went to find some staff and to call my parents. A friend came to sit with me for a while, which I was very appreciative of, because he could've easily been off having fun on the ice. Teacher returned with a baggie of ice and informed me that my Mum would be there soon, to pick me up to take me to the hospital.

Cut to the hospital. My arm is checked out, and I'd broken it. I had to stay overnight to have my arm reset and a cast put on. The only colour cast that I could have was fluoro pink (I was a total tomboy at this stage).

I was going to have to spend all of summer with a hideous fluoro pink cast over my arm. I wasn't allowed to go swimming, or to the beach, or pretty much any other vaguely fun thing that a hyperactive 13-year-old would want to do in the summer.

But the worst part was that I didn't get to go tobogganing, and that part of the ice-skating centre closed down while I still had my cast on.

And that I had to shower with a garbage bag over my cast. 

...but it'll do for now

Every time this happens, I think to myself "Okay, next time I will dress like a normal person". Then I remember that a good deal of my wardrobe is offensive band t-shirts; the main reason why I have to go shopping in the first place.

That's Entertainment

The conclusive findings of my long and extensive research on the effectiveness of crumbing and frying various foods, and the impact said foods have on the tastebuds.

...no comedy I know

>>> Have lots of ideas for a blog
>> Make blog
> Scared to post in blog.

Well, this bodes well, doesn't it?