I’m writing a stream of consciousness. Even though I have chilli tuna oil on my keyboard. Hang on – I’m going to have to wipe it off.
That was gross. It was transferring from one key to other keys every time I hit the T button. Anyway… like I said, I’m writing a stream of consciousness. It’s this writing exercise I learnt to do when I was in Bali hanging out with a bunch of writer-dweebs, just like me. Essentially I just have to write down everything and anything that comes to my mind in this time, and I cannot delete a single thing. Anything could happen here, guys, it’s madness.
Therefore, I must not think of anything too incriminating or perverted, at risk of embarrassing myself. I could embarrass myself, I mean, I run that risk. Because I plan on posting this on my blog.
Basically I have nothing to post this week and I’m feeling totally and utterly uninspired with my writing of late. So I guess it’s pretty out of my comfort zone to post all the thoughts that go on inside my head on the internet.
Although, so far it’s not that embarrassing.
Hey there is a weird noise in the kitchen. Coming from the kitchen, right now. And I would like to yell out to Daniel, my boyfriend (yeah I know – where did he come from?), and ask what the noise is. But I can’t because that would be an interruption to my stream of consciousness, and the task at hand.
I’ll tell you about Daniel though. He leaves his underwear on the floor in the kitchen. He uses the living room and kitchen area as a laundry and it drives me insane in the membrane.
Hey! Daniel just dropped off a seaweed cracker with a piece of blue cheese and strawberry jam on top of it. He is a really nice guy, despite his unorthodox living habits. He is great with food and likes things like engines. But bad with recycling and tidying up after himself. It’s hard to get mad at someone when they deliver loaded seaweed crackers.
His dog is barking now. Her name is Chelsea and she is an un-socialised bulldog. And yesterday we took her for a walk with my Labrador/golden retriever dog, Daisy. And guess what, the bulldog got spooked and almost bit Daisy’s head off. It was all very dramatic and I had to swiftly kick Chelsea in the ribs to make her let go of my dog’s head.
We kept walking them though, and eventually we realised that Chelsea had just been scared because she is un-socialised. It soon became obvious that Daisy totally wore the pants in the relationship because Chelsea chilled out and tried to be friends with Daisy. But Chelsea’s jolly and enthusiastic approach was in vain, because Daisy wouldn’t have a bar of it after the attack. She was like “that uncultured bitch just tried to bite my face off.” And every time Chelsea tried to be nice and lick Daisy’s face, Daisy looked away like she was a Kardashian.
Chelsea was out peeing on everything, trying to mark her territory and Daisy would go and cancel out Chelsea’s pee by peeing on top of it. They both peed so many times. I wonder if they have a special tank just for marking territories.
Anyway, my ten minutes is almost up and I have not thought of anything too weird. I kind of wish I had but you can’t force weirdness. Dan thinks I’m weird. Well, he thinks I’m mad. But I think he is mad. He leaves his underwear on the kitchen floor.