I am in the best mood today. I don't really know why, as I had to get up at like, the crack of dawn. There's something depressing about hearing your alarm chirp at fucking seven. I totally had flashbacks to highschool when I had to get up to go to school camp and swimming and other shudder-worthy events. Bleh.

Perhaps my good mood is to do with the fact that my hair looks outstanding, despite the fact that it's been five weeks since it's been cut. It's straight in the right places, bent in the right places. My hair is like the perfect penis! Not that I really enjoy overly bent penises, they sort of look funny. Like, not as bad as those gross Jewish-y penises, or penises which have the fun syphilis. But it's a good analogy, non? Eyeroll, Dawei. Move it along.

Ahem.

Anyhoo, another possibility is that I just kicked seventeen kinds of arse at uni. I am such an all-round talent, aren't I? I can just add that to my list of things I'm good at. Okay, well, that list is now something like:

makes a solid martini

makes a solid mojito

can spot bulge at fifty paces

can effectively cut down the declassé and nouveau riche with a single withering look

shakes the house in my language tute

But I mean, that's still something right? Back when I was a wee lad getting career counselling at school, he told me to play to my talents. I could get a job from those talents, right? Meh. But anyway, had a great day at uni today. My tutor is a complete flamer and he has a ponytail so I was about to write him off as being totally tragic, but he turned out to be quite nice. In a nasal, homo-accented way. In case you missed it, I missed my first two tutes as I was out with food poisoning (fucking mayonaise! Now I remember why I don't eat it), so I was a bit worried about finally meeting my tutor. Like, I thought he might berate me for wasting everyone's time or something, so I was practicing my "Bambi-eyes-I'm-so-cute-and-helpless-half-smile-slightly-raised-shoulder-shrug" thing I can do which usually gets me out of any trouble. For some reason people love helpless people. I guess that's why they love to coo over babies and retards. But I totally didn't need it once I realised he was a 'mo. 'Mos love me regardless. God, they are so easy it's rather pathetic.

And the rest of the people in my tute are utter, utter dropkicks. Like, they are so stupid. How they ever managed to get into university is beyond me. Most of them would be better suited to a "diploma" course at the local TAFE. But isn't life funny how it comes around in circles? Like, I was worried that I would get smacked down for holding everyone back, but then the rest of the entire class is holding ME back. How... rude. The worst thing though? Not one piece of eyecandy in the entire group!

In other Dawei related news, huzzah for the Olympics! Congrats to my big muscle-bound cousin for whooping thus far, one step closer to Golden glory. Also, props to the divers for being consistently hot and spank-worthy. Mmmmdivers. I have suitably amended my ideal dream man to being an ex-pro diver and motorbike rider who speaks French and Italian, who has longish curlyish black hair and pale icy blue eyes, and shares my passion for Neighbours and being a complete cunt to poor people. Mmmmstandards.

But with the Olympics have come a positive flood of queries about Ian Thorpe's supposed homoness, and his hairiness (ew), and his penis bulge/size (ew again, I don't care what people say). Unfortunately I cannot personally verify the latter, but observe: Ian Thorpe crying (mwah, Darp), proving that there is an expression more faggoty than his FagFace.

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posted by Dawei at 1:47 pm