CH-CH-CH-CH-CHANGES!

Attention-As you may have noticed, the name of this blog has changed from 'the Musings of Evie Walcott' to 'Flamingo Coat'. Flamingo coat is another of my creations, and I thought I'd give it a run for a while. While I do love Evie Walcott, I sat her down and explained that I thought we needed a break, to try other names and see how we feel, I think she took it well. There were a few tears, but on the whole, she didn't smash up to many of my personal possessions. 

SO! That means Evies just taking a break, and Flamingo Coat will have its turn as reigning blog name. 

the end :D

I find this highly amusing. Like a child version of bijork. 

Its not easy being cheesy.

I'm the captain of the paper seas. 

Life is a merry afair for an unemployed, out of school 18 year old. My days are full to bursting with relaxation and comfort. For example:

10 am- Awaken to alarm. Press snooze button.

10.05- snooze button.

10.10- snooze button

10.15- snooze button

(this continues for another 2 hours)

12.15 pm- after a delightful sleep, slightly interrupted by the occasional alarm, which eventually gets turned off and ignored, I rise to the afternoon, mozy on down stairs, have some raison toast, drink some juice. 

12.45- meander up stairs, potter around my room pretending to clean while really just moving things about to give the illusion of change. 

1.00- have a shower, while playing a Doors CD fairly loudly.

1.30-  Play some playstation, get frustrated, curse under my breath at how hard games are and then laugh at the game calling it names and yelling at it 'IN YOUR FACE!' when I beat the certain level I was trying to overcome. For some reason, in my aggravated state of mind, I seem to think teasing the game and yelling at it would have some sort of affect on it, as if by me saying "WHAT! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? I JUST ATTACKED THAT BEAST WITH A LEVEL 3 BLADE! HOW IS IT NOT DEAD?!" or "I SAID JUMP LEFT! LEFT! IF I WANTED TO JUMP RIGHT I WOULD HAVE INDICATED RIGHT WITH THE GEAR STICK YOU MONG!", that the games going to go:

"hmm...yeah your right, that beast should have been slain like a cake at Fat Alberts house, I'll give you that. Err.. why dont I give you some extra health points and tell you where the location of the hidden chests are and we'll forget this unpleasantness ever happened..I, I think we could all go home happy then. And stop with the name calling, alright, its hard enough being a game no mortal being can defeat, I dont need to be insulted on top of that."

4.00- get my snackage on. Usually a bun loaded with ham, lettuce, cheese, red onion and tomato sauce.

4.30- Watch some DVDs, my collection has become my new best friend.

7.oo-11.30pm- Lurk the internet and facebook, chatting to people and making unnecessary 'likes' on random things, as well as pretending to not be online when someone I dont wish to speak to pops up on the instant messenger. Now everyone knows my secret..

11.30-2.30am- lay in bed/fall asleep watching movies while my television is on timer.

And then the cycle starts again. 

Its the circle of life. And it moves us all. 

So, reading over my schedule, there may or may not be a few flaws some of my more cluey readers may have picked up on. Their not major problems, but they could probably be smoothed out. Such as sleeping in until noon. Playing video games and watching movies all day. Staying up late on facebook even though no ones ever on at 2am. And staying up so late. Even as I type this its 2.07am.

The solution, as my parents and boyfriend have so KINDLY pointed out to me in every possible way, is to get a JOB. ( I seriously expect them to start bringing out flow charts and graphs to show me how much a job would benefit me) 

So, I guess I'm left with this option. It'll have detrimental effects on my routine which I've so easily fell into,  but on the plus side, I'll have my own MOOLAH to buy things such as a new skirt and season 4 of The Office. 

When you weigh my options, you've got:

A) a moocher life style most likely to continue until the age of 23 when my parents finally get sick of telling me to get a job and cut my hair 'you hippie'.

B) working for the man, earning much needed cash and meeting new people, learning new skills and getting me out of the house and teaching me responsibilities that I'll carry through my entire life.

This really is a no brainer.

I'm going with A. Lock it in Eddie.

:D I'm joking. But I had you for a second. I had you thinking "But Brooke, are you really that silly and reckless? Do you want to spend your early 20's living with your parents and earning the nickname 'herpes' because you never go away?"

So, a resume is in the cards, as is pounding the pavement and getting my game face on for potential interviews. 

I did have a job once. I made a living taking the raisons out the the Queens raison bread every morning. It was hard work but someone's gotta do it. I got fired though when the queen bit into her toast once and found a raison.. she was allergic to them see, but still ate the raison bread because she wanted to live life on the edge. They had to put up a railing around the edge though for a while because her neck and face swelled up so much from the reaction that any slight shift of weight on either side could have tipped her right over the edge and toppling into the abyss.  Personally, I think she would have been better off with parachuting if she wanted to live life on the edge. She could have jumped out of a plane and parachuted down waving to the crowd and landed in her horse drawn carriage while in one of her parades. 

But on a serious note, I really am going to look for a job. So the next time you see me, I should hopefully be blue collar, rather then stained with sauce collar. 

On a side note, I'm totally SMIT with my boyfriend/ best friend Jarrod :D He drives down to Newcastle every weekend just to see me. If the oil companies want someone to thank for making them so rich, I think it should be a personally addressed letter of thanks to Jarrod. He's probably also one of the main causes of global warming with all the driving he does... so its kind of a delightful disaster, a like eating a really rich chocolate cake knowing full well what its going to do to your thighs.  

Jarrod: The camera loves you BABY.

kodak momento.

So thats all folks. For now at least.

Until next time

Too ra 

later gator

Don't forget your toilet paper

:D

Brookus. 

Oh yeah? Come here a minute!

*Current annoyances of the week*

RIGHT! So, I've got some complaining to do. I've got a beef with 2 things in life this week, people who mumble or forget things when they serve you in shops, and people who scab food and drink off you when ever you order it.

Lets talk about the former first.

SO! Beef number one is with people serving me in shops. I was in M.C. Donalds the other day, and the chick who served was an utter nonce. The whole time she was taking my order she was looking at me with an expression on her face that would be deemed appropriate in the event of me having a booger hanging out of my nose or food in my teeth. But there wasnt, so I dont know what she was staring at. I didnt come to McDonalds to get stared at, I just want my burger woman! Then! She was meant to give me $40 change, but she only handed me 2o, so I said "excuse me,but you owe me 40, you only handed me 20". She then turned around and looked at me as if this time I'd just informed her that a pack of wild dogs were waiting for her outside, just biding their time until she has to go out there to walk home, at which time they would proceed to chase and terrify her. Again, I didnt come to get stared at, I just want my $20 woman!

THEN! She told me there would be a wait on the meat, so I stepped to the side to await my delicious but deadly meal. 5 people were then served, all ordering burgers, and all getting them at top speed, while I was standing there watching these people skip off happily with their meals while I'm still waiting for mine for some reason. Either this burger is being cooked by the food master George Foreman himself, and he's taking his time knocking out the fat just for me, or this maccas employee just has something against me. Finally she comes over, hands me my bag and goes to walk away when I sigh in exasperation, look at her and say rather sternly, "theres meant to be a drink with the meal", does she honestly expect me to clog my arteries without having a cool, refreshing, syrup and water mixed coke to quench my thirst after? NOT LIKELY!  I didnt come here to die of thirst, I just want my drink woman!

After all that, I then scampered off to the car and sat there stroking my meal like Gollum while repeating "my precious" in a gravely, smokers voice. 

Another beef I have with people serving me is when they mumble to you. I was buying some alcohol the other day, and as soon as I put the bottles on the counter, the guy looked at me and said something, and it took me a while to figure out he was saying something because from where I was standing, it just sounded like he was humming along to the radio, so I'm standing there waiting for him to tell me how much I owe him, and he's just looking at me while "humming" every few seconds. After I while I cottoned on and said "Pardon me?", to which he replied in a hum, this time a little more audible, in which I thought I heard him say "cheques Friday". Cheques Friday? What on earth does that mean? That I have to pay by using a cheque? 

But I dont have any...and its not Friday for one..So I said again "pardon me?" and he AGAIN said cheques Friday. This dude was either swigging samples of the alcohol he was selling in the shop, or he wasnt an employee at all, he was a robber who'd knocked out the real shop attendant, taken his shirt and was now impersonating him in order to get more money. Turns out he was neither, after thinking very hard about what on earth he was talking about, I realised he was saying "Can I check for some ID?" but because he was mumbling, it sounded like he was saying 'cheques Friday'. So, the whole ordeal ended up taking at least 3 minutes when it would usually take no less then 30 seconds to swipe the alcohol, pay and then leave.

How hard is it for people to open their mouths and talk properly, listen to what the customer really wants and do it. Surely not so hard, though from what I've experienced, we're in an epidemic of etiquette retarded shop assistants who all sound like Charlie Browns teacher and have the personalty of Lurch from the Addams Family. 

SECOND BEEF!

People who scab bits of your food and drink. I hate it when we'll be at a restaurant or eating out at the park or something, and one of your friends goes " can I have some of your drink?", "can I have some of your food?". I'd love to slap their hands away and yell NO! NO YOU CANT! If I pay for a beverage and some food, I intend to eat and drink every bit of it because I'M hungry and I'M thirsty. If THEIR hungry or THEIR thirsty, well then amigo you can get your own. How do you think the cave men survived? They didnt mooch off their mates who'd gone and hunted down their own brontosaurus. Chances are if you took it upon yourself to just take their drink and sip it as you please just because your thirsty, they'd wallop you over the head with their cave man bat and grunt angrily art you, roughly translating to "SOD OFF AND FIND YOUR OWN! I HUNTED IT, I EAT IT! IF YOU KNEW YOU'D BE HUNGRY YOU SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN YOUR OWN!"

Thats what I just dont get. If your in a group, and everyones eating, and so are you, chances are you'll get thirsty, so why not buy yourself a drink? Dont finish your meal and then turn to the person next to you and just drink their drink, because A) thats the epitome of rude, and B) its so FLIPPING annoying that I feel like tipping that drink so that it spills all over their face, after which I'd turn to them and say "did THAT quench your thirst?".

If I wanted friends who'd take my food, I would have made friends with a bunch of seagulls. I didnt realise that along with the title of being a friend, you take on the responsibility of feeding the other friends around you.  Next time I'll bring along some sippy cups and some bibs and hand them out in preparation.

Sad thing is, my mum does this all to often, saying "can I have a bite of that Brooke", to which I  HAVE to say yes, because she's my mum and would probably just make me give her some. Problem is, she has a bite the size of T.Rex and once she's through with what ever you were eating, theres less then half of it left. Her bite is the 8th wonder of the world. But I love her for it :)

Having ranted sufficiently, I bid you adieu :D

Later Gators

Brookus