I spray the Mortein on my undies...

Shock Horror! Do not adjust your computers - I'm real! I am finally getting around to posting. Yes I've been a bad blogger (applications to spank me at end of post), and no, I haven't left y'all for a couch. Although the couch I ended up getting ($120 from St Vinnies) is quite lovely and I'd love to show you a picture, only I can't get the mofo' internet to work in the Palace yet. Damn straight, this moving business is harder than it looks.

I've also been working like a mofo for the last week - just so I could take some annual leave. Stupid boss. However I'm finally on holidays - and I'm not chasing down fridges or plumbers or light bulbs or spider spray anymore. So I'll finally have a bit of time to fix internet connection, and in no time I'll be posting like a biatch again.

Spider spray, you might ask? Yes, for all the big fearless woman girl of the world that I am, I am shit scared of spiders. In fact, I'm so scared of them that I'm not even going to use google image search to post a pic here, because I'd be too scared to look at the pictures it brings up. 'Luckily', my apartment also seems to be spider HQ. I am sure there's a nest of them somewhere. I thought I might be able to turn it into an advantage: might get some hotness pest exterminator dude around to eradicate my 'problem', however, 'cos I've now signed up for the poverty line, my main weapon of defence is this:

It seems any old chemical spray stuff will do. God knows what I'm going to do when I actually work out HOW TO USE THE FRONT LOADING WASHING MACHINE AND TRY AND DO SOME WASHING MYSELF.* Bless you mum, for your washing machine, and your hillshoist.

And bless you all for being so patient and still coming by here, and Hambo, there is a European pillow with your name on 'round here! I promise you regular updates or you can all have a suckle of my zipple. One at a time though.

* If anyone has any tips on how to use these puppies, please let me know. I've only ever used the bad-water-wasting upright ones. I put my clothes in the other day, and eventually got it to spin around, but I can't get any water in it.** I mean, I know their meant to be water-economical, but that's just ridiculous.
(**Before you ask, yes, the taps are on...)

Oh, how I want to be at Moorabbin.....

Day one of Martie's move is happening tomorrow!! Hurrah. And you know what that means?? A celebratory vodka after all my hard yakka? Actually no, tomorrow I'm not actually moving anything. It means - I've got the day off work!! Ding!

But that's not the most exciting part: My beloved St Kilda is playing for a spot in the GF - I've got deja vu' from last year. GO BOYS!! Except for you Milne. You can just fuck right off. You were a fucktard at Springvale, and you're a fucktard at St Kilda and if I ever see you at the Tudor again, I will tell you that you are a fucktard to your face.

Oh, sorry, ranting a bit there. Back to the topic at hand. How is my itinerary looking for tomorrow? Well, I'm going to be a busy little Martie...

9am (or thereabouts): Get up. Put washing on.

10am: Go to bank, get bank cheque

11am: Go to real estate agent. Pay some mofo's mortgage my way to the poverty line first month's rent.

11:30am: Go looking for a COUCH.
Of course, I want something like this:



But inevitably, on my budget, I will end up with something like this:


I think I will have to make use of some folding chairs in there until I save a bit more money...


Scared is not normally a word in my vocabulary. But I am a bit scared. I'm at the Mothership's tonight, to (attempt to) clean up my room so I can get my bed out, and I found a whole lot of Ex-Fucker stuff. Valentine's Day cards, photos, letters and the like. And I'm kinda scared that I'm doing this without him. This was always our dream, always what we wanted to do.

However, I've got to look forward, and I will be strong, and I am getting on with my life. I'm totally head over heels with the Jungle Boy, and I think it's more a sentimental thing than anything else. I'm also a little sad because I am leaving the olds (as much as they piss me off sometimes). Sure, I've done it heaps before, and I've not been here for the last nine months, however, it now seems final, and I seem grown up and old, and the next thing you know, I won't be able to wear sparkly masks to crappy nightclubs anymore and I'll be rootin' a young'uns in the over 28's carpark....Ughhh. Drama. Queen.

I think my excitement is winning out though. My utilities are connected tomorrow, I've got my VERY OWN PHONE NUMBER (Ok, clearly I'm not getting out much) and I've got a intercom-buzzy-thing to play with. I'm jizzy already.

But I need a COUCH. I need a COUCHY COUCH COUCH COUCH.

Can you see me (and obviously, the 'girls') reclining on this?:


Or perhaps something a little more refined like this?:


Or can you see Jungle Boy & I getting up to some ac-tionnnnnnnne on this?:


Decisions, decisions. I hope the Salvos have some of this gear tomorrow!!!

And just wait until I get around to buying a new bed...

And finally a community service announcement for all: Try to stay off the roads on Saturday. I've hired a moving van:

Should prove to be very interesting.

Oh when the Saints, Oh when the Saints.....

Greetings My Pretties. Much profuse apologies abound, I have been MIA for a while now. But it's not because I haven't been up to no good - because I have....

I wish to announce that all the microwave popcorn was in vain - Jungle Boy & I are very much on and very much happy and it's all

again. Hurrah!!

But that's not the most OMG LOLZ XTINA XCITEMENT bit. Oh no. Who wants to come to my housewarming??? Cos I've finally gone and got myself my own apartment! Ding to that people.

Best part about it; There'll be no Ex-Fuckers, no flatmates with undie-stealing-and-chewing-dogs; no flatmates that know Toadfish from Neighbours (fortunately or unfortunately); and no houses that have dogs who have the run of the house and leave stinky smells everywhere.

I'll finally be an independant woman (*cue Destiny's Child* Throw your hands up at me people!) So it's been all fridges and couches and bond and rent and moving vans and cleaning and other more uninteresting shit like that for the last week and a half.

Promise cross my heart, needle in my eye and other painful stuff that normal programming with recommence soon. I might even do an expose on moving home - I know you're dying to see my moving van! And even better, I hope to have my own internet connection in this place as well! So there'll be no more waiting until my boss goes out to read stuff, or pissing off the olds by staying at their place until the wee hours looking up blogs and porn doing research.

So be prepared for Martie's Moving Disasters and other such stories. Meanwhile, I shall leave you (but not for so long this time) with a picture of my new apartment:



Ahh no. It's more like this:



But I can dream though, can't I?