A story for you

Fortunecat mentioned that maybe Facebook had impaired my blogging lately, and I have to say maybe it has. The allure of Facebook is strong; all those email notifications making you feel loved everytime someone so much as thinks about your profile, and all those time-wasting, excessive applications that add shiny clutter to your page. It's low-brainpower, highly-addictive social porn and I'm doing the Facebook dance decked out with white roller skates and a lolly-pop.

Another reason I haven't blogged is because the blogging hype of end o' semester seems to have fizzled out for my uni-friends and there's nobody reading the blogs or posting anymore. The comments were slow coming on my last post and as pathetic as it seems I actually felt a little smaller. I had low blog-esteem even though I tell myself I write this blog for my own gratification it appears that I am actually feeding off the love of the readers like a little nerd vampire.

More low blog-esteem came along when I felt that nothing interesting had happened to me for me to write about, or even worse...things were too interesting and therefore far too much work to write about. However I am pulling myself out of the rut and attempting to dish out one mildly interesting post, thanks to the harsh but true words of the Fortunecat.

Speaking of this particular cat I have a story to tell. It began last weekend, if some of you can remember back that far....(cue flashback music)
doo dooo doo
Saturday 7pm: Lt Bourke St
I had organised a dinner at Ling Nam restaurant which interestingly enough made the papers today for failing a health inspection by a long shot with cockroaches and pigeons rampant in the kitchen. I was quite shocked, because the food was delicious.
Anyway back further, and further before dinner.... (doo doo doo)

Saturday 1pm F.Cat's pad:
Manic arrives half an hour late for the Cat n' Manic catch-up fun day. Starving and annoyed, she bitches about the traffic and then proceeds to raid the cupboard only to find Bachelor Chow.
"No worries" though says the Manic, "I brought over alcoholic lemon/lime jelly, lets eat that".
"Have some chocolate" says F.Cat, though a mouthful of dairy milk family block.
Nobody does nutrition quite like these two.

While the strange foods amused them for a good five minutes, Cat soon came up with a new activity. "Let's do some acid" he gleams though Cheshire teeth.
Manic is slightly uncomfortable, as she thought the time she would try this scary drug would be prefixed by lots of over-thinking and fretting about for hours.
"Umm, I thought we agreed not to do it the day before a formal dinner?" She pipes.
Cat's previous wise words were no longer relevant to his opinions on the matter at this moment in time. Acid was the word and the time was now.

So wussy Manic bagsed the "smaller half of the tab" and then felt really strange tonguing a piece of cardboard for a few minutes before having to swallow it. For Cat it was like he'd just downed a Panadol, natural as. While Manic waited urgently for her mind to start caving in.

Cat decided that maybe they should go for a walk to get some real lunch, down Toorak village...the food is bad and overpriced but it's something.
"Get lunch now?" Squealed Manic, "wont it kick in while we're AT lunch?"
This comment seemed to confuse the Cat, as he looked at her with a face that said, and your point is?
So they set off and their simple luncheon turned into a four hour day trip that would have them returning falling out of a taxi in fits of hysteria. Well Manic maybe.

"Dip is not a food group" explained Manic to Cat as the giggled over their faux Turkish food. Yes there was lots of giggling which was strange because neither of them were saying anything particularly funny. Several other strange occurrences happened:

Stu said to himself out loud "I wish I had some more bread" and a waitress appeared as if out of nowhere and chirped eerily, "Would you like some more bread?"
This significantly freaked the Cat out before raising the question 'what else can I wish for out loud that will instantly deliver?'
This experiment proved unsuccessful and Manic wandered upstairs for a toilet visit, a routine she would re-do at least 25 more times that day.

Upstairs smelled like coffee, and this pleased Manic very much and not just because she enjoys aromas but because she could feel the smell caressing all of her body. She felt light and warm and like she couldn't leave. She stood in front of a mirror and laughed to herself for no reason.

Downstairs again and Manic was trying to explain to Cat why upstairs "felt so good of coffee". Then they ordered Latte's and after a while Manic said,
"I can't tell whether this coffee is good or bad.
"Neither can I" pondered the cat and they both paused for mystic reflection.

The pair eventually left, and made their way onto a tram which felt like everybody was whispering into Manic's ear when really they were probably just whispering to their friends about the bizarre nature of Cat's hat. The hat was a knitted rainbow number complete with several cascading tassels like psychedelic dreads.

For some reason Manic was hell bent on buying a particular mascara of which she did not know the name or brand but was confident that by simply waltzing into a chemist it would fall in her lap. By chemist number three this was becoming increasingly unlikely. The Toorak shop assistants tried to sell the glassy eyed giggling pair Dior, Chanel and blahbiddyblah. Eventually after a finding a particularly special hair gel for Cat they set off for the one true chemist. PRICELINE.

Do priceline even sell medicines? No, i guess they're not a chemist but they sure have that glossy, white feel about them.

The walk to Priceline was treacherous; the trams were not running and Cat refused to take replacement buses for reasons which are still unknown. Manic was submitted to the peak of her high surrounded by Chapel St mania and a series of incomprehensibly hilarious canine passers-by. Then there were the many toilet stops, for Manic was having strange gushing sensations in her bladder that were worse than any UTI. Unlike a UTI though, there was alot to give, at least better out than in.

Finally the wanderers reached Priceline, land of everything. Manic's head was swimming and she had tears in her eyes from crying(with laughter). Eventually Priceline all got too much and she called the only person you knew could help, DivineTrash.
Manic: *sniffles and trembling voice,"Hello Alex? I'm in Priceline"
DivineTrash: *laughter (As Manic is always in Priceline)
-the conversation isn't interesting enough to repeat but basically Manic asked Trash to guide her through the isles and mirrors and glittery displays to the one true mascara.
Nearly in tears Manic yelped "I can't see anything called Volume Shocking!" Only to look up at a whole shelf of said mascara.

The deed was done, and Manic begged Cat to get a taxi home because she didn't want to be on Chapel St for one second longer.

In the Taxi home Manic asked Cat if there was something in his hat.
"Yes, he replied soberly, ...there is a gerbil in my hat."
And with that Manic and Cat could not look at each other for the rest of the way home without choking on their own giggles.

5pm F.Cat's pad:
"You better be straight for dinner" Cat warned as Manic laughed on the floor in a ball of hilarious.

7pm Dinner Ling Nam:
(doo doo doo) And we're back to dinner, where everybody seemed to have a good time except Manic who was still fighting a losing battle with her bladder and light-sensitive pupils.