Mundane Memories from the Week.

Today marks 2 weeks since I smashed my face on the concrete verandah. The healing is almost done. I think I will forever have a small bump there, as a reminder to try and not slip.  The whole thing has been a complete and utter fucking disaster. I never realised how vain I was! People staring at me all the time, asking what had happened…. In the end I just started making shit up. Hit by a car. Got mugged. That sort of thing.

I was so embarrassed by my freak show appearance,  I actually went to the chemist and bought an eye patch. This made things worse however, as then people REALLY stared at me. My family begged me NOT to wear the eye patch out in public,  so I just wore it at home, teamed with a hat I found in the dress up box.

Ay Ay Captain!

Speaking of shows and freak shows, the winner of the Samsung Galaxy Note, as selected by Random.Org is Fiona – who tweets at @littlelioness. Please email me your address to [email protected] and remember,  this is not eBay. You will get it when I can be assed to go to the Post Office. Which could be as soon as Monday.

Other things that spring to mind when I reflect on the past week in IRATE PEOPLE! IRATE! Mr Woog and I were on a plane on Wednesday, waiting to disembark after landing in the most IRATE storm. My nerves had been shot to shit,  and I wanted off that plane.

get me off the plane NOW please

The bloke sitting next to Mr Woog leapt out of his seat as soon as the ding went. He was keen to get off the plane as well. In his anxiousness to stand like a tool in the isle while they fiddle-farted around getting the doors opened,  he had dislodged another passenger’s bag.  The other passenger was a 50-something businessman and HE WAS PISSED OFF – Irate if you will. He began to have a red hot go at the eager-to-get-off-the plane-man,  who apologised once, twice then three times before he told the businessman to SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!

I was beside myself with glee,  watching two grown men fight over a dis-lodged bag! Mr Woog was staring really hard at the floor,  hissing at me under his breath “Do not stare like that…..” and “Please do not say anything…”
But I could not. I was speechless.
Veins were seriously popping out of businessman’s neck. The man needed to relax. I was trying to imagine what his life would be like if the fact that someone moved his bag caused him to burst a poopa valve.
And the best bit? After the exchange was over,  they had to stand there in the isle for another few minutes while people eyebrow raised and “tsk-tsked” them. I was DYING to say something. DYING! But Mr Woog would not have appreciated it.
And in other news, I have been invited to Mercedes Benz Fashion Week. I was all like “Do you know who I am?” but not in the way a former contestant from Big Brother would say when trying to get into a nightclub on the Gold Coast, more in the way “Are you sure you have the right person….” kind of way. Turns out it is true, and I will be there reporting with Blue Mountains fashion icon Eden Riley, who will no doubt look the part in her red cowboy boots and gang signs. Meantime,  I will get my eye-patch dry cleaned and crack out the hot glue gun again.

Do you think I could pull off this look?