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Wednesday, April 19, 2006
My God, I am like, such an overweight, obese, Biggest-Loser-esque retardo. I've had the most slovenly day. I was meant to spend my holiday (if you call five days off a "holiday", piffle) catching up on all the assignments I have looming next week. Instead I've thus far dedicated my days to widening my ass. Well, not widening my ass in the sense of those gross porn movies when there is an extreme close-up of the unpuckered anus, but you know.

My parents have pissed off for a week in Melbourne, so after dropping them at the airport (which, by the way, has been royally fucked up. I nearly had a accident swerving into the new "drop off" point. What a retarded place to put it!) I stopped off for some supplies: Diet Coke, Reef Tanning Oil (oy), brie, two magazines, and some floor cleaner. Yes, I know, weird shopping list. From that list I'm sure I could pull a quite charming pornographic scenario from my ass (even the clean-up procedures -- pine fresh!), but I'll leave that to you. I'm sure I'm not the only filth-minded person out there, non?

Anyhoo, I got home, stripped off, oiled myself up like a mofo and flopped onto the chaise longue next to the pool. It was quite a stunning day, really, so I can justify such blatant sybaritism. Like, normally when I have the place free to tan (because I do it in some lovely lycra mini-short things; no tan-lines is so 2002), the weather is shit and cloudy. Or the pool man rudely interrupts me. Woe, etc. Anyhoo, I'm like, all oily, and shiny, and coconut-y, and probably melanoma-y, baking out in the sun until I am broiled in my own sweat. Lovely! So then I rolled inside for something to eat. I consumed like, half a delicious walnut tart I prepared earlier. Then I flipped through a magazine. Which, actually, does have a purpose, as I totally need a light (but warm!) Winter jumper-y cardigan-y thing. So I suppose my time is being used somewhat effectively. Sigh. But yes. I just had a bottle of rosé and am now all tipsy and bored and feel quite useless.

Oh well! Tomorrow is a new day and all that shit. I have my day all planned out: library super early, furious photocopying, home in time for some more oil-ing and tanning (there is something SO sexy about being all oiled up! I caught sight of myself in the mirror before I rinsed it off and I was all "ooh! I'd do that". Actually, I saw a porn once when that... okay, tangent.), then I can write one assignment by Saturday leaving the weekend free for more café hopping and champagne swilling! Hurrah! I feel better.

I think I just need, like, a proper holiday. Like with no stresses and stuff? I can't wait to get a job so when I'm on holidays I don't have to worry about anything. The working class have it so much easier than they think they do.