Sincerest Apologies, from my childhood self

Disclaimer: Before you read on I would like to state in my defence, I wasn't exactly a bully child. I was just over excited & over confident. This double whammy personality affliction may have manifested itself on occasion into meany meaness & irrational acts of violence that could in some cases be construed as borderline criminal. FYI - to this date I have only been arrested once, when I was 25 (will tell this story one day), so the outlook for the grown up life of Becky is looking positively peachy.

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Dear Katrina,

I am sorry I gave you chocolate after telling me you were allergic to it. I'm sure this wasn't the one & only reason you road your bike into the back of a parked car. I always got the feeling you 'liked' me a little bit more than normal for a girl of your age. And quite frankly your giant front teeth scared the living shit out of me.

I also found it weird that you lived with your granny when you had 2 perfectly good parents at your real house? Your granny was mad as a meat axe. And she smelt like cabbages, wee & mothballs. I could never eat anything at her house for fear of gagging. Please tell her I am sorry for cutting open her lounge cushions with the craft knife when we were playing doctors. Just between you & me they desperately needed a face lift anyway.

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Dear Laura,

I am sorry for telling you a huge clove of garlic was candy & convincing you to eat it. And then laughing when you started to cry because your tongue was burning. I was just mad at your trampoline for launching one of it's giant springs at my sisters head & trying to rip her eyeball out of her head. She got to wear a pirate patch. This caused all sorts of fighting in our household. An eye for an eye & all that......

GARLIC IS NOT CANDY LAURA!!

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Dear Brendon from Invercargill,

I am sorry for throwing a piece of bark at your head & consequently splitting your eye lid open so you had to get stitches. It seems I had issues expressing my affections. I was actually completely & utterly in love with you, as only a 9 year old can be, & my way of getting your attention was by giving you the bash. 

When you left to go back to Invercargill after your holiday at the Galloways house, I cried for about 2 years. You may recall at the time, Elton John's 'Sacrifice' was number one on the NZ charts. Unbeknown to you, this was our song. I played that song over & over again on my rad walkman, whilst laying in my bed fantasising about what could have been. 

You were very good in our front porch stage show extravaganza of The Sound Of Music. I also enjoyed playing go home/stay home with you, even though you never found me hiding in the Galloways boat in their garage. I hid there for 2 hours, got mildly hypothermic & ended up walking home in the dark by myself. Hence the wobbly I chucked. You have no one to blame except yourself.

Sorry Brendan from Invercargill. You can't marry me now.

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Dear Spiros the Italian,

I'm sorry but anyone who hangs upside down from the clothesline like a bat & has feet that smell like tomato sauce is straight up asking to bullied. Although I did like building forts with you & slinging mud at the next door neighbours dining room window. I didn't like when we got caught by Big Bum Phillipa & I got stuck hiding under your mums car. Mum growled at me for getting black shit all over my clothes.

I secretly enjoyed our friendship & was sad when your mum moved you to Australia. I didn't have anyone to watch Commando with over & over again OR act out scenes from Jesus Christ Superstar. You were the bomb digz Jesus!! It was a hard time for me when you left but I DID NOT miss your stinky ass feet. Or playing 'Bats' on the clothesline.

Spiros, your feet smelt like Watties.

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Dear Amy,

You looked like a dude & to this day have the biggest head I have ever seen on a human. When you told me to hold my breath because it would make my ear ache go away, that wasn't very nice. That useless & potentially dangerous piece of advice didn't make me feel bad when I picked the hugest bogie ever known to man & wiped it on your bed while you were in the bathroom.

Ok so your head wasn't shaped like a giant peanut but it was pretty big.

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Dear McHotty Jared,

When I rode my dad's 12 speed man bike down the street to show off to you, & I slipped hammering my vag into the top bar of the bike, I was really mad. What you also didn't see, was that when I slipped, I also dragged my right foot across the gravel road, ripping open my kung fu shoe & the top off my big toe. I'm surprised you didn't notice because I screamed like I was being slaughtered & my dad heard me from all the way down the road at our house. 

I got in the deepest shit for stealing dad's bike & ruining my black fu's that were brand spankers. I was forced to eat corn beef & banned from watching 'Neighbours' for a whole week. Three words......... fuck you Jared.

P.S You still owe my mum $12 for the shoes I ruined.

Kung Fu's. They were hot in the 80's. And gave the motherfuck of all electric shocks.

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Dear Anita aka Gargamel,

First of all please say thank you to your parents for feeding us. Your mum often came home to find Hayley & I loitering in her kitchen eating chunks of melted cheese we'd baked in the microwave. Cheese was way cheap back then.

Secondly, I just wanted to settle the score once & for all. The only reason I bashed you in the face with your dads gumboot was because you threw it at me first. Abstinence from retaliation was never a strong characteristic of mine. We used to have wicked awesome fights. And I never meant the mean things I said to you, except for when I told you you had a large goiter neck. That was an actual observation. I hope you got that sorted.

P.S My dad was the one who came up with the name Gargamel. He said I was allowed to call you that because your face gave him nightmares.

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To my sister Hayley,

You, my dearest sweet sibling, owned the majority of my youthful rage, by complete default. You were younger than me, smaller than me & had (notice I said HAD) the most annoying high pitched child speaking voice EVER. 

I am sorry for the time I super glued your hand to the phonebook, or when I chopped your thumb with the axe in the woodshed OR when I chucked the daddy long legs on you & you screamed your head off. I'm also very sorry for all the times I thumped you in the head. This was a lot. If it's any consolation when you used to get the nose bleeds at night time I used to cry myself to sleep because I thought I'd given you a brain hemorrhage. 

I did not enjoy the time you pooed in the bath. Don't be embarrassed, most kids do it. However trying to play dodge em's with your floaty poo boats wasn't a particularly fun time. What was fun was all the times we cruised round on the red & yellow tricycle. You standing on the back with your hands on my shoulders while I peddled like a fucker up & down the drive way. We were bad ass in our matching cardigans, with Bunny & Mickey in tow.

I never intended to make you cry all those time. You were just an easy target. Mattmoo, who was also fond of giving you the bash must've thought so too because he never tried to drown me in pool? And you never fought him back. However I do give you snaps for the pinching. You ruled at that.

Secretly I admired your ability to bounce back after your numerous dances with danger. I will never forget that one time you stuck your hand into the turny wheelie thing on the flying fox & got your fingers mashed into hand mince.You were fearless & unstoppable.

When mum used to growl at us & tell us that when we grow up we will be best friends & we laughed in her face, well I guess she got the last laugh. Cos she was right. Even though I still on the odd occasion feel the urge to bop you one, I love you bigger than heaps.

Your sister Becky x

The art of eating out of a dumpster

Last week, after the most shit house day ever in the history of the universe (yes it was that bad), I was sitting on the couch having a little binge party for one on green onion flavoured potato chips. I'm still trying to break the emotional eating cycle. Don't judge me.

Anyway I dropped a few chips on the carpet by my feet & didn't think twice before swooping down like a vulcher, grasping them in my sweaty little carnie hands & jamming them in my pie hole. There was a hair in it but I was totally unfazed. Not long after I did that, I turned around to Blake & said to him, as though I had no recollection of what had just happened, 'What the fuck did I just do?". He looked at me with a mix of pride & shame, & told me in a matter of fact way "you ate chips off the floor".

I also recall eating bread dip off the floor at my sisters place with a couple of my girl friends. My sister pulled it out of the oven & accidentally dropped it on the floor. We were really shit faced, there was farting, & a little bit of bladder leakage. If you could picture 4 drunk bitches sitting in a kumbayah circle around a loaf of mashed bread on the kitchen floor stuffing themselves stupid. It was funny at the time I promise.

For those that have never heard of Bread Dip, it's a hollowed out bread loaf, with bacon, red onion, sour cream, cream cheese & grated cheddar mixed together & baked inside it. It's SO good. I would have sex with it if it wasn't weird & it didn't burn my vag.

As a kid I would eat anything off any surface. Kids are good like that. I was rather fond of sand pit food. I liked the crunch. I never ate the soft, sand covered lumps in the sand pit though. Thank Christ. Sand pits are basically an over sized cat litter tray. I don't blame the felines. Regardless of the fact they are supposedly intelligent animals, even I don't expect them to tell the difference between a child's play area & their dump tray. They should though, the smart hairy fuckers. Especially when they leave sausage-like cat turds on my pillow & piss on my bed. If you ever wanted to see a cat fly you should've been there in the early hours of the morning when I arrived home exhausted after a gig & found my sisters cat had left presents in my bed. I booted him across the road. I don't even know how but my rage brought out my super human strength. FYI - That is the one & only time I have ever hurt an animal. And he still likes me.

Anyway, somewhere between the little shit kicker years & morphing into my adult self, my natural human instinct to eat things I have dropped on the floor, has waned. I still do it, obviously, except I'm just slightly more fussy.

In my town we have our share of hobos & because I start work before the sun rises every day I know many of these hobos well. They are my nightday transition friends, I have pet names for all of them & they are professional bin divers.

Please correct me if I'm wrong but I do believe that this is some kind of Leisure Sport in America?

Most of them are screw loose, & have absolutely no shame when it comes to digging through garbage to find their next happy meal. In the name of research, I had attempted to have yarns with Old Man Sam this morning to get his take on his chosen lifestyle. He is a mute, which I didn't know, but he smiled, did some jazz hand movements & showed me his collection of plastic bags. We bonded.

As acknowledged in my shit list dated June 4th, I am being made redundant on August 1st. SO, taking into consideration how fucked up the economy is, the lack of employment opportunities in my city, & general depressing forecast for our future as humans, I am making a note of dumpster dining etiquette to refer to when Blake & I become homeless & have to join the dumpster diving hobo gang.

• Night time is the best time to dumpster dive. Between the hours of 12am & 5am you will have your most fruitful scrounge.
• Sleep during the day. Dumpster diving is brutal on the body. And you are less likely to be murdered/freeze to death if you kip during sunshine hours.
• Find your dumpster. Claim it. Fight anyone else who tries to dive on your patch. This is positive for 2 reasons. 1: you will always know what you are going to get. 2: It will aid you in earning your respectful place within the hobo gang. They will know you mean business.
• Obtain a can of pepper spray. For safety reasons. (it helps if you have family member who is police lady)
• Try to do it in pairs. One dives while the other lurks in the darkness with a large stick ready to fend off foreign invaders.
• If potential food find smells like sweaty bottom crack, bathroom cleaner or glows in the dark, don't eat it. Number 1 rule: Nose knows best.
• Dig from the top. The closer to the top of the garbage pile, the more likely it won't kill you. 
• Eat as you go. Don't carry anything on you. Garbage is no longer free & you may get arrested.
• Meat is bad. Unless it's Mcdonalds or KFC. That shit can last for days.
• Canned stuff is fine. Even if it's past it's use by date. Bond with a can opener. It will become your most prized tool.
• Don't waste your time with seafood. It will make you feel like you're dying & you will shit through the eye of a needle. I don't know who came up with that saying either because unless you have the asshole of an ant, shitting through the eye of a needle is fucking impossible. Just saying.

• If you come across a dumpster like this, you have hit the jackpot baby. This bountiful supply of carbs will keep you going for weeks. Stuff yourself stupid. On a tight week, this carb storage will help keep you alive.

•  Beware of the animals. Hungry animals will tear your shit up if you try to mess with their food. And if you come across anything like this.........

 Take a photo because this is awesome. I know we don't have bears in NZ but I still like to pretend we do.

• If you come across a fellow hobo whilst dumpster diving, & he looks at you like this

 BACK THE FUCK AWAY. YOU ARE ON HIS TURF.

The hobos have a hierarchy system & if you are new on the streets they will make it very obvious that you are at the bottom. You are hobo scum. Respect these guys. You may need one of them to spoon you in the middle of winter.

What have you eaten off the floor lately?

'I'm A Winner Wednesday' prize this week is: CoverGirl Smoky Eye Look Pack.

It contains a Smokyshadowblast eyeshadow in Bronze Fire.

Lash Blast Volume Mascara in Black

Lineexact Defining eyeliner in Brown (seriously who the hell comes up wih these names?!)

AND instructions on how to create an au naturel smoky eye (if that's possible?)

Please read HERE for terms & conditions of  'I'm A Winner Wednesday'

THIS COMPETITION IS NOW OVER

Peace out!



My nose twin. Bear Grylls.

 Do you remember the episode on Friends when Joey found his hand twin at the casino?

Well I have an announcement to make, I have found my nose twin.

On Friday, whilst browsing through the new release autobiography's at my local book store, I came across 'Mud, Sweat & Tears' by Mr 'pee on my t-shirt & wear it as a do-rag & mmmmm insects/decomposing animals taste awesome' Bear Grylls. The front cover of his book looks like this.

Bear is the man. He's my butt chin'd jungle warrior. He packs heat with HIS FISTS. And he is the owner of the biggest pair of ball bags on this planet. Even when he's had to shit in the rocky mountains with the wolves, eat giant bugs for protein, drink his own wee wee & live in the same undies for 5 days, I'd still attempt to lick his face if I met him in person. There's just something about a dude that will get inside the carcass of a rotting beast for a snuggy nights kip that gets MY inner lady beast roaring.

Please observe his nose.

You will notice, now that I have so kindly pointed it out, that his nose looks like someone has running fuck kicked it from the right hand side & bent it like banana.

Rumour has it that Bear Grylls had a head butting competition with an angry Russian Brown Bear who was piss mad at him because he had stolen his name.

ANGRY BROWN BEAR: Bitch you ain't no bear *boof (headbutt)

Bear Grylls: You tell my mama that you fat hairy bastard. I fell out of a plane & smashed my spine. I am AWESOME!! *boof

ANGRY BROWN BEAR: Bet I can shred your face up with my razor sharp bear claws *boof

BG: I will get inside you & wear you like a costume *boof

ANGRY BROWN BEAR: Well I will hug you so hard you will shit out your finger tips *boof

BG: 'You can't touch this' *starts MC Hammer dancing

ANGRY BROWN BEAR: *punches Bear Grylls in the right side of his nose for being a dick. MC Hammer is so 15 years ago. Even Russian Brown Bears in ass end of nowhere know that!! Jeeze, get some new material bro-ski!!

Bear Grylls could possibly deny that event actually happened but it's probably way better than the real story.

Please observe my nose.......

Until I point it out, most people would never notice. A few years ago I discovered that I have a munted nose.It's not as extremely bent as Bear's but you can see more of one nostril than the other, and there is a definite  curve to the right.

I was so excited I found my nose twin that I stood by his book display holding the book up beside my face trying to show any one that walked past me how fucking elated I was. I tried to get Blake to take a photo of my twin & I together but he had bolted. I found him hiding in the car. I embarrass him in public sometimes. Just quietly, I think it's good for his self esteem.

I've been weighing up the options & I'm considering writing a letter to Bear Grylls to see if he's interested in making a movie with me. It won't be a musical though, because we all know how I feel about them. And if he expects me to to throw my ass out of a plane, commando roll down mountain sides, yom on maggoty beaver turds, & smear raccoon guts all over my face so I don't get molested by the sun, he has another thing coming.

On second thought, I'm happy to continue our twin nose relationship from afar.

Or with the photo on the front of his book that I bought when Blake wasn't looking yesterday morning.

I've just about licked my way through the first chapter.

If anyone wants to read it after me (I'm like the book Jesus), you are more than welcome.
However, I  must point out that the picture on the front cover is a bit soggy from all the pashing.