Bitch Still Crazy

She's still here. And she is still crazy. So here you go:

I am personally judging you for not thinking about any of this before you made the very public move of changing your name on Facebook, for the world to see. Love away, crazycakes.

Anyone else dying to see the other 24 lessons?? I wonder if they're just combinations of the other days of the week. "You can NOT have both Monday and Friday nights.", and so on.

Honey, I think someone has spiked your multivitamins with LSD. Based on your Facebook status updates, anyway.

WHO SAYS THAT?? Pretty sure 99% of white girls would never say something so idiotic.

I'm not sure if this is racist, pretentious, or both.

Or in your case, just show him your Facebook profile.

Nothing like a bunch of comments on your Facebook status to fill that gaping hole of despair in your life, AMIRITE??

See You In Hell

Actual conversation at the polo last weekend, that a friend just reminded me about...

Friend: So I'm doing this thing where you go out to an immigration detention center and spend a few hours with refugees, it's really rewarding!

Zander: Oh that sounds really cool. I mean I like the idea of charity, but I struggle being around sick or poor people. But I think I could handle refugees!

Friend: Uh...okay. Anyway, if you're interested, it's on Sunday mornings and...

Zander: Ooh, Sundays? I golf on Sundays.

It Has Arrived

Here in Australia, we have what's called "the silly season". It starts around Cup Day in early November, and then with all of the Christmas parties, birthdays, BBQs, a few public holidays and so on, we effectively don't sober up until after Australia Day at the end of January. I really don't know how we cope.

So this weekend, I hosted sunset drinks at my place on the Friday, went to watch the polo (aka pay zero attention to the sport being played and judge everyone's outfits) and attended a surprise birthday party on the Saturday, and then had lunch, golf, and book club on the Sunday. And it was relatively relaxing.

Forgive me if I go quiet this week - since I am clearly not satisfied with the ridiculousness of the Australian holiday season, I have my annual Thanksgiving feast on Saturday which requires me to host and prepare around 6 dishes myself. Updates on what I ruined coming next week.

My Favorite Things

Because I'm not Oprah, my favorite things aren't thousand-dollar gadgets, and you aren't getting a god damn thing from me. Sorry. But being the 99% (the better, cleaner end, to be clear on the matter), it's the little things that we have to find value in.

For example, my favorite internet ad would probably have to be this one:

Let us count the ways that this is amazing:

• Apparently you won't just look 10 years younger, not just 20, but THIRTY YEARS. I love how overboard they went with that claim, to the point that even a mentally challenged teenager in the midst of a serious heroin trip would pause and think it was ridiculous. Maybe if a 27 year old uses it they will end up looking like the lining of their mother's uterus.

• Hey wait...I work in Ryde. And it's a person IN RYDE that has this secret. Shit, I better click on it. Except wait, everyone in Ryde is kind of poor, fat and ugly the last time I checked, and I don't want to look at them. It would be far more appealing if they'd claimed it was some old forgotten trick from some island in the Mediterranean. Better yet, I'm guessing they paid extra for that ad feature.

• Oh, did you see the image? Because apparently what we're talking about is a face lift. As in your face will peel off and you will have a completely different one underneath. Because THAT'S HOW SCIENCE WORKS.

• It only costs $5. Then explain Lindsay Lohan, Courtney Stodden, and the numerous other rich assholes who can't even seem to try and look their own actual age. Guess they just haven't seen your ad yet!

All I can hope is that whoever is responsible for these will end up in bankruptcy court or prison within the next 6 months. Until then, thanks for the laughs.

Best Tuesday Ever

In all the Halloween excitement, I almost forget that it is followed closely by Cup Day. For those who haven't seen what is likely an annual post on the topic, Cup Day is the first Tuesday in November, when the entire nation leaves work around noon to have a long lunch and then continue drinking themselves into oblivion all afternoon. Just because some horses race against each other for 2 minutes around 3pm.

Yes, this is a real thing in a real country. Go figure.

The best part was how in the evening I met a few friends for some more drinks, and one of them brought along an American guy who had arrived in Sydney from New York that morning. I'm not sure if that will make him thoroughly excited about moving to Australia, or insanely disappointed when he realizes that we only binge drink like that on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays.