Tits on a Nun

Remember those days when I blogged 5 days a week because I always had something interesting to say?

Yeah, me neither.

Bad news:
My 2008 MacBook refuses to turn on (which was why I was M.I.A. for a week).

On top of that my iPhone 4′s iTunes stopped working. Jay-Z asked, “Can I Get A F**k You?” and all I could give him was a, “Meh.”

Since switching over from a contractor role to an employee at my company, I’m now being paid monthly instead of weekly. So I’m eagerly waiting to get paid at the end of this month to upgrade to new toys. But right now my bank account is so empty VH1 did a Behind The Music about me.

I’m as useless as tits on a nun. :(

Good news:
I was the hottest chick at KFC today!

Now who wants to join me in the finest of boxed wine tonight?

Sitting on a bench in Circular Quay, typing this on a craptastic phone. This is keeping me from reaching my full potential at Draw Something.

I Saw The Sign

One Friday morning as I walked through Hyde park on my daily 8am commute from Darlinghurst to the CBD, countless apprehensions were on my mind:

I’ve sold my soul for a desk job and a check.
When will my frustration phase with Australia end?
How long will I stay here?
I need to help San Francisco’s homeless.
Where will I finally settle down?
Will anywhere feel like home for me?
When will Renee Zellweger stop holding in that fart?

My anxiety was consuming. In a visceral turn I started heading home. My hands were shaking and tears welled in my eyes as I reached for my mobile to call someone, anyone who would answer.

Suddenly, something caught my eye.

I walked towards it for a closer look. There it was, on the ground; isolated, perfect and whole, a sign from nature.

What was it trying to tell me?

I need to buy a new hammer?
Palm trees are waiting for me in Hawaii?
Mushrooms are delicious?

I couldn’t make out what message this piece of nature was trying to convey yet a gentle feeling of reassurance took over.

And then I recalled a passage I read during my Bible study:

“No one’s going to drag ye up to get into the life were thou belongeth.”

-The Book of Ace of Base, Chaper 1: Verses 36-37

It was enough for me to turn right back around and face my day, face my journey, face my life.

This too shall pass.

Artistic photography credit: Nezza

You’re Nobody Until You Have a Hater

I get about 1 hater e-mail or comment a week and because I’m a cocky mother f**ker, glitter falls from the sky every time I read them. Hater comments to a blogger means you’re doing your job right.

Big shout out to the person who left this comment (that I copied and pasted). For all the non-bloggers, look closely:

“….Long before you’re dumbass discovered it.”

Oh, the irony.

Commandments for Dating Bitches Like Me

It’s douchebag Wednesday so I’m going to use big words.

With all pretense of tact and political correctness thrown to the wind, I articulated an insightful observation of Australian men that produced endless bouts of mirth and merriment.

(I was eating ribs while typing that last sentence. Now that’s commitment.)

We’ve already established that they’re more frugal than Carly Rae Jepson.

Pennies and dimes for a kiss?!? Cheap whore.

So for additional research, I contacted my friend, a Psychology lecturer in Personality or Individual differences at the University of Western Sydney, and asked the big question,

“Why do Australian men split the check at the end of every date, including the first?”

His answer:

“Actually, I would argue that this is a systematic problem in Australia. They are so concerned with equality that they have undermined things like chivalry. Women do not want equal, they want equitable. Women want to be respected but also to be treated as the beautiful and wonderful creatures they are. Dating in the U.S. is different from it is here as a result of the institutionally enforced equality in Australia.”

(He’s American in case you’re wondering.)

My message to all Ozzie women: A successful woman paying for her share of the date to prove that she is independent and can take care of herself is like an attractive woman walking around telling everyone, “I’m beautiful.” A confident woman who knows she’s a boss doesn’t need to advertise it. We are not 65-year-old Ferrari driving men with 2 inch penises.

In related news, I’ve been asked,

“What does it take to get someone like you?”

Aside from a bucket of patience and a bottle of Xanax, here are 10 Commandments for being my boyfriend.

Bitches love commandments.

1. Pay for the dates

2. Pay for the dates

3. Pay for the dates

4. Buy me macarons

5. Pay for the dates

6. Pay for the dates

7. Pay for the dates

8. Love me

9. Pay for the dates

10. Don’t cheat on me

Such a cryptic message.

6 Nice Things About Australian Men

I’ve been Negative Nancy in my last couple of posts and it hasn’t been fair to Australia.

First, Australian men have a lot of great qualities that we shouldn’t overlook:

6.  Their tenacity is admirable.  They would travel any distance and move mountains for meat pies and ketchup.

5.  If singlets (a.k.a. wife-beaters or tank tops) were considered shoes, they’ve put Imelda Marcos to shame.

4.  They’ve enlightened me with teachings that would make the Dalai Lama cry.  One such:  “BBQ is a noun.  If you use it as a verb or an adjective, you are a Yankee.”

3.  They don’t waste money on stupid things such as dentistry and orthodontics.

2.  While the rest of us suckers are still paying off our university debt and working menial jobs in finance, they make 6 figure incomes with high-profile careers as miners, air conditioner installers, plumbers, and electricians.

1.  They volunteer at the homeless shelter everyday.  And by volunteer I mean drink, by homeless shelter I mean bar, by everyday I mean everyday.

Second, winter is finally over and you know what makes up for the $60 15 minute cab rides, $3.50 bottled water, $20 movie tickets, 31% income tax, and $537 electricity bill I just got (not including gas)?

Our glowing pre skin cancer tans.  Amazeballs!

Hey kids, let’s play a game.  It’s called find the Asian girl.

Your girl is having a brain fart.  What other fantastic things about Australia can you remind me of?

Dating Australian Men

The relationships in my family have been successful. The common thread is the traditional roles being fulfilled: the women nurture while the men protect and provide. Hence, I’m an old-fashioned girl who will stick to this formula.

With this being said, I’ve noticed 2 themes in dating Australian men (and I use the term “men” very loosely):

  1. They’re cheap.
  2. They’re clueless.

Don’t get me wrong, my girlfriends and I are not gold diggers. We’re all educated and make good money. On top of that we cook, clean (paying the housekeeper counts!), and we protect ourselves (we can bitch slap anyone to Pluto). We show signs of fertility, youth, and good genes, so our babies will not be ugly and they’ll be well taken care of. So if we’re dating a guy, who accepts when we offer our half of the bill, it makes him obsolete. Why should we continue dating this castrated boy? What does he bring to the table?

I’ve heard too many horror stories, FROM frustrated AUSTRALIAN WOMEN, nonetheless, on dating Australian men. So Ozzie guys, I’ve been asked to help you out with a mini-course:

Women 101

When we say: “How much do I owe you?” when the bill comes out

What you’re supposed to say: “Only your company on my yacht later.”


When we say: “Nothing is wrong.”

What we really mean: “I’m so mad at your dumb a** and I’m just waiting for you to step out so I can get shit-faced with my girlfriends and bitch about you.”


When we say: “I don’t want anything for my birthday.”

What we really mean: “I want a new Balenciaga bag with some tickets to Fiji inside presented to me in front of my friends and family at the surprise party you’re going to throw with Mariah Carey performing, fireworks, and midget acrobats.”


When we ask: “Do you think she’s pretty?”

What your answer should be: “I don’t know what guys see in her. She looks like she’d suck penis for a Wi-Fi password.”


When we cry and walk away from you….

What you’re supposed to do: RUN after us, tell us we’re more beautiful than Kim Kardashian, wipe our tears with $100 bills, and pull out a box of macarons from your back pocket.


When we say: “What do you see for us in the future?”

What we really mean: “I’m giving you 3 more months in this relationship and if I don’t see a ring, this relationship will be over faster than Mischa Barton’s career.”


When we say: “I want something small.”

What we really mean: “I want the 2.7 Carat cushion-cut Tiffany Legacy with graduated side stones.”


Bonus course material:

Date attire does not consist of footy (soccer) shorts, thongs (flip-flops), and a wrinkled shirt.

We don’t want to “hang out” unless it’s at Tetsuya’s or The French Laundry.

We don’t want to “get drinks” at the pub. If we’re there, we’re usually headhunting other men and we can’t have you cock-blocking us.


And to be fair, here’s a mini course for my beautiful Australian single girlfriends:

Australian men 101

When he says: “My Mom lives with me.”

What he really means: “Do not give me a 2nd date.”


When he says: “I live in Parramatta.” (or anywhere on the west side or whoop whoop)

What he really means: “I have erectile dysfunction.”


When he says: “Your share of the bill is $24.00.”

What he really means: “I have a vagina.”


When he says: “Let’s get coffee.”

What he really means: “I’m cheap.”


When he says: “Do you want to hang out tonight?”

What he really means: “I just want to sleep with you.”


Bonus course material:

Do not kiss him on the 1st date (usually at night). Wait until you see him in the light of day. He may have cold sores.

Do not sleep with him until you get exclusive monogamous commitment, and he will usually bring this up around the 2-3 month mark. Sex is the holy grail so dangle it in front of him. You’re the one with the power.

Do not ask him out or bring up commitment. Let him lead. You don’t want a feminine passive boy. You want a hunter.


You’re welcome.

For more, click here.

Any other dating advice you want to add?

Does This Really Compare to the Jersey Shore?

The Shire is located in South Sydney 26 kilometers (16 miles) south of the city’s financial district (CBD).

It’s known for its own culture of residents who never leave the area due to the pristine beaches and beautiful environment, similar to Miami.

Upon hearing that Australia was premiering a show filmed in the Shire compared to my favorite reality show in the states, it immediately caught my attention.  My Australian colleagues overheard my interest in this show and immediately offered their comments:

“Superficial, artificial, brain-dead, the cast is not even originally from the Shire…..”

Now I like shallow, fake characters starring in mind-numbing programming.

Bring on the extensions and fake eyelashes.  We’re going to have a party, by all weaves necessary.

credit:  http://www.mtv.com

And I could care less that some of The Shire cast weren’t true locals.  Some of the Jersey Shore cast aren’t true Italians.

credit:  http://www.mtv.com

So I tuned in one Monday at 8pm on the Ten Network to watch the 1st episode.

A sneak peek:

My Reactions

The 1st two minutes:  The videography is amazing.  It doesn’t look low-budget and the shots capture the beauty of the area.

The next 10 minutes: I was on the floor laughing, and not in a good way.

What brand of bronzer is that?  Nutella?

Check out this “rapper’s” claim to lame:

If I had $100 for every time someone told me this girl is pretty, I’d be poor.

The casting director should be fired.  The entire cast was a parody of themselves.  The Shire is being compared to Jersey Shore but it was more of a softly scripted “dramality”, similar to a poor man’s version of The Hills.  The mediocre cast is predictable and there’s nothing captivating the audience to tune into the next episode.

Some successful reality series start out soft and build up as to avoid giving everything in the 1st episode while disappointing the audience with subsequent episodes.  So I decided to watch the 2nd episode in all fairness.

The verdict:  The Shire is so shitty I got pinkeye from watching it.

Update:  The producers have announced it will not be renewed for a 2nd season.

Follow me on Twitter.  Bitchy now comes in fun-size.