Lately I’ve realised that I am ready to leave anonymity behind.

I have really LOVED the safety and the love that I’ve found as a mostly anonymous blogger but it’s time to move on and be brave and real and open

This blog won’t be around much longer (it will self destruct by Friday May 6 2011) so I’m asking you to please update your googlereaders, email subscriptions, etc and your twitter following

New blog: Awesomely Unprepared

http://awesomelyunprepared.wordpress.com

This blog will be where I rant, rave, go on about what’s on my mind and tell you funny anecdotes in which I will usually embarrass myself – kind of like this blog, except I won’t be paranoid about people from my real life reading it

Tumblr: http://tumbldkez.tumblr.com

This is where you will find daily photos and snippets of my life in short diary like form. It will be visually pleasing and will give my loyal readers (and real life friends and family) an insight into my REAL life

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/dailykez

This twitter handle will be worth following for any and all updates about my blogs as well as my take on the silly little moments in life. I’m kind of funny so it’s totally worth it. I also like interacting and will always read your replies. To be clear, I am formerly @awesomelykez

Also, here’s a teaser…a really big real life announcement will be made on my blogs in the next few weeks which I think you may find verrrry interesting…so if that’s not encouragement to get on board then I don’t know what is.

I realise that it may be hard to retain my loyal, long time readers this way but please do stick with me. I’ll still be as dorky and as silly as I ever was. I’m just growing up a bit.

I will try to step up my self indulgent, self promotion to ensure that I keep my readership but if you change your subscriptions and update your readers and follow me (and all those other social media thingys) now then everything will be easier. So please, it will take you only a minute. Do it now as you read this post xo

Love youse! See you on the flipside!!!

So…apparently there’s some big shindig happening across the pond tomorrow? Something to do with a prince and a “commoner” coming together to try not to repeat the mistakes of the past? How romantic…

Well, it kind of is – if you ignore the fact that the poor girl is being constantly compared to her late mother in law who died in tragic circumstances. ‘Cause that wouldn’t suck at all…

I normally couldn’t give a rat’s arse (eloquent aren’t I?) about the royal family and their goings on, but for this royal wedding I think I can change my tune. I think that in the past I had better things to occupy my time with – now that I am (f)unemployed, I think I shall join all of the hat wearing, Women’s Weekly reading, gossip mongering, middle aged ladies out there and just make a day of it. I mean, apparently they get a long weekend for it in the UK – why can’t the convicts down under get one too?

This media circus has been the best fictional drama I’ve seen in a long time! All the dodgey relatives of dear Kate coming out of the woodwork to sell their stories to the tabloids, all the speculation – complete hypothetical scenarios taking up pages and pages of magazine print space! It’s fabulous!

So, I’m going to bake scones (served with jam and cream of course) and cupcakes which I will share with my Gran while we watch the wedding at my parents’ house. I even bought a $7.99 cupcake stand from Woolies for the occasion. Going all out – that’s me!

I’m already rehearsing my old biddy gossip voice – I’ve prepared a few phrases that shall come in handy:

“Oh my. I am not sure about that dress.”
“Oh – that look on the Queen’s face says it all.”
“Oh goodness, William is starting to resemble his father. Pity really, he used to be so handsome.”
“Another scone, Gran? Heaven knows I shouldn’t be indulging like this, but it is a special occasion.”

Of course, everyone with even the slightest evil streak is hoping something funny happens. Perhaps a shot of Camilla grinning with lipstick all over her teeth or the queen caught making “a face”. Maybe we will catch ol’ Charlie staring at some tarty inlaw’s boobs. Perhaps William might mess up the vows, accidentally saying a naughty word…nothing tragic (they’ve got enough going on) but just enough to keep YouTube in business anyhow. I’m pinning my hopes on a naked, drunk person streaking through the church just as the bride and groom go in for the obligatory smooch…but somehow I think the police are onto that. Something to do with national security and what not.

What do YOU think of all these royal goings on?

Pic: The poster girl for MAOFNS – a very serious condition.

Ever get the feeling that something a little bit strange is going on? Like something’s not quite right? Lately there is something that has been worrying me. Not like terrorism/global warming/serial killer/paedophile level stuff but just this nagging thought in the back of my mind that I feel the musical artists of the world need to address:

No-one knows who that girl is.

Case in point:

Guy Sebastian – Who’s That Girl
Flo Rida featuring Akon – Who Dat Girl
David Guetta featuring Rihanna – Who’s That Chick

I mean, sometimes Rihanna doesn’t even know who she is.

Rihanna featuring Drake – What’s My Name?

I am concerned that this musical amnesia of female names syndrome (MAOFNS) is contagious and will soon wipe out the music industry as we know it. I can’t quite trace back to the first modern day case of MAOFNS but it could very possibly have started in 1995 with Peter Andre’s Mysterious Girl. At one point, Destiny’s Child appear to have attempted to confront the syndrome with their hit song, Say My Name in 2000, but by then it was too late.

If only we knew then what we know now.

While there may be little to no hope for these singer/songwriters, there may be something you can do. If you are indeed that girl, you can make the life of a MAOFNS sufferer just that little bit easier.

So when he’s dancing with you (and falling in love wid choo and wanting to take you home/get “close” to you) all up in the club, make sure to slip your name into conversation. Try whispering it in his ear repeatedly in a seductive tone. Perhaps a name tag may help. Or you could write your name down on a dollar bill and tuck it into his briefs as he dirty dances with you. Stripper style.

If we all do these small things, we can make a big difference.

We need to raise awareness about this issue and let the music industry know that we’re here for them. Prevention may be the best cure.

Pic: Sure, it looks beautiful…until it kills you!

So lately I’ve been watching a lot bit of television and I’m beginning to notice a theme. It’s quite a simple message that I am picking up from I Shouldn’t Be Alive (no they damn well shouldn’t be), Bear Grylls of Man Vs Wild (his last name is ironic as he never ‘grills’ anything – he just tears the head off a random animal and chews it raw), the evening news and the movie 127 Hours (based on the true story of Aron Ralston).

Canyons are frickin’ dangerous and nothing I’ve ever seen on television about a canyon has been good news. Basically, canyons = death or thereabouts-ish.

I’m not a conspiracy theorist or anything but I just have a feeling that canyons want to kill us.

There’s always some seasoned explorer/outdoor sports nature freak who manages to fall down a canyon in desert heat or extreme winter conditions (never seems to be on a mild, spring day) and has to do stuff like drink their pee, cut their arm out from under a boulder or keep themselves awake all night so they don’t die of hypothermia. Sounds exhausting (and not very tasty) to me! Usually there’s some kind of broken bones involved with maybe a touch of internal bleeding.

You know, nothing that bad or anything…

Occasionally you will hear on the news that a tourist has drowned in a canyon flash flood – something different to mix things up.

I think these people would get rescued a lot quicker if they told someone where they were going. What’s with outdoor adventurers and lack of communication skills? Every documentary has them saying, “As I lay at the bottom of the canyon with broken legs and internal bleeding, I realised that no-one knew where I was and it would be days before anyone knew I was missing.”

Trust me, if I ever go canyoning (which I won’t – that’s what this post is about y’all) then I will be sure to at least facebook status it. I mean, geez. Or at least a tweet:

@sokezwasthinkin I’m going canyoning today. Seems like a nice snowy day. Thinking of jumping down a crevasse. Later, peeps.

Or something…

Also, I would totally take my dog. Because I saw an episode of I Shouldn’t Be Alive where a dog totally saved a lady’s life by being a companion and running off to find help and showing rescuers where the lady was. My dog would be awesome okay at saving my life (and licking me and drinking all my water and accidentally jumping on my broken bones). I told my hubby that she would totally save us if we were ever in trouble. Unless we were at a beach. Then we could just forget it (not that there are usually canyons at the beach – getting off track here) because she would be too busy chasing the waves and ignoring our cries for help. Once we had to pretend we were leaving (like you do with a four year old at the shops who won’t listen) just so she would pay attention and come home with us…

Oops, back to canyons.

So, it would seem that canyoning with a friend might be a solution to the whole “I’m broken and injured. No-one knows where I am” dilemma, but that’s not so true. Usually the less injured partner of a rugged canyon explorer decides to go get help, but just trudges around in the desert heat/extreme cold having no idea where the hell they are and realising they’ve forgotten where they parked the car. Awesome. What the hell is wrong with maps and compasses??

It’s simple: Dogs are better than people.

Fact.

And don’t even get me started on Tropical Jungles…

What have you learnt from watching TV?

Pic: What? You don’t get compared to Chinese food all the time too?

This morning I logged onto facebook to see that my brother had been called “Chow Mein” by a rather ignorant doofus while standing in line at the supermarket checkout. Why was he called Chow Mein? Duh. Because he’s Asian (adopted from South Korea like myself) and duh, all Asians are Chinese, right?

It was heartwarming to see him get about 35 responses – all of the intelligent, outraged and positive kind. Everyone standing up for my brother and shaking their heads at the ignorance that exists in this world.

It’s funny how those lame, unoriginal schoolyard taunts are still used by fully grown people to insult each other.

I remember these:

“Why don’t you go back to where you came from?!”
“Easy-peasy Japan-esy!”
“Ching Chong China Man!”
“Flied Lice!”
*various sounds that were supposed to sound like kung fu or karate*
The exaggerated pulling of the eyes to supposedly represent the almond shaped eyes of an Asian person.

Juvenile, right? Unoriginal? Yep. Uninspired? Yep. Unintelligent? Most definitely!

You get the racist people who supposedly aren’t racist, but… or you get the people who think their racism is based on some very “high brow” political arguments. But then you get the people who really were never destined to make it far in life! It’s sometimes actually hard not to feel sorry for them.

I feel like people who use these childish, ignorant taunts are just little schoolyard bullies (and perhaps victims) who have sadly never been able to grow past that time of their life and move onto better things.

My brother stated that this Chow Mein guy was pretty overweight. Perhaps he thinks that by pointing out the differences in the appearances of others and attempting to embarrass or degrade them, he is taking the focus off his own insecurities. Maybe he thinks that no-one will dare say a word about his weight if he attacks them first.

I remember some of the kids who tried this style of bullying out when I was in primary school. They couldn’t find anything else about me to pick on, so my Asian appearance was an easy target. Now that I look back, I realise that a lot of the kids who felt it necessary to yell cruel, ignorant jokes at me weren’t well liked in the first place. Some had tough home lives. Some were teased for their own looks or had trouble making friends. Some of them had simply been taught all they knew about life by their dumb as a brick parents.

Does it hurt when someone calls out a juvenile name and try to make you feel small? Yes and no. Yes, because it makes you angry to be reminded of all the stupidity that exists in the world and the fact that these people walk among us – sometimes banding together to victimise you. But no, because these people really aren’t that clever and that fact alone makes you realise that their “jokes” should never make you feel worse about yourself. They are more a sign of the idiot who makes them, than their intended target. If only they realised that we’re all taking the p*ss out of them behind their backs!!! Adulthood and hindsight are wonderful things

If it wasn’t about being Asian, it would be about someone’s fashion choices, their upbringing, their big nose, their wiry hair, their weight, or something else.

Let’s leave the bullying in the past and set an example for younger generations on how to conduct yourself and to be intelligent people who will make the world a better place!!

8. What three bloggers do you want to follow suit? Anyone! Just tell me if you did it

Is it what you expected?

Pic: Says it all, really.

So called (drunk) friend to hubby:

So what do you see in Kez? I mean, how do you find Kez attractive? I mean, she’s a nice girl and all, but I just couldn’t get over the whole Asian thing.

I’m not going to go into a whole speech about betrayal and hurt when someone who is nice to your face goes and says that…that’s a whole other type of blog post and not really the kind of dirty laundry airing I want for this blog…

But I am going to say that this is unfortunately the type of small minded attitude I have come across over the years. Small minded, ignorant people just cannot find those of another race attractive. Which is kind of lucky because I am not attracted to them either! I’d rather stab myself in the eyes with a rusty fork than give them a bit of a wink and a flirty glance!!

When I was a little girl I heard those types of attitudes all the time. People (believe it or not) on the whole do not mean anything by it!! They just think that a certain race is not attractive full stop and that it’s just a looks thing. It’s nothing but ignorance. People believe they can have that attitude and that it doesn’t make them racist…don’t even get me started…OK, I’m started…

I internalised a lot of that talk growing up. When I was young I thought that I was ugly to all white, Aussie people. I truly believed that no matter how nice my clothes were, no matter how nice my make up was, no matter how attractive I thought I was when I looked in the mirror, I would never be considered as pretty or as hot as my white friends. Let that sink in. I thought that a pretty Asian was only worth half of an “average” looking white girl.

Luckily, I grew out of that. Luckily my confidence grew and I realised it was bullsh*t and that a lot of awesome people exist out there who do not feel that way. That I can remove people like that from my life because they are toxic, and that I am attractive, different, smart and funny. I’m a frickin’ catch! I am so thankful that I realise that today.

I truly believe that there are more attractive and less attractive (in my subjective opinion) people of EVERY RACE and EVERY BACKGROUND. But what really matters to me is whether I have a genuine connection with that person. Whether their values match mine. Whether the person is compassionate and caring. Whether they believe in me or I can believe in them. Whether what’s on the inside radiates outwards so that all I see are attractive outsides! Obviously, I’m married but it applies to friendships and any other types of relationships too.

It’s called not being a shallow dumb-arse.

I totally understand that all humans have physical traits that we like in a person, or do not like in a person. We don’t like to admit that we have a shallow side, but that’s OK. We’re human. We judge people no matter how open minded we are. What takes it to another level is when these opinions take on a racist or close minded meaning. When we generalise a WHOLE population of people just because we see them as inferior to everyone else. And to share that deliberately (highly intoxicated or not) with someone whose feelings it will hurt is unacceptable. It’s insulting and mean. Do these people go around telling EVERYONE else who doesn’t turn their heads how unattractive they find them?! NO. If we all did that, we’d be telling every second person walking down the street that we can’t find them or their partner physically attractive. Who bloody cares?! We don’t have to sleep with them!!!

If you CHOOSE to air that particular opinion, you ARE racist and ignorant. Sorry – can’t talk yourself out of that one. And if you’re proud of that fact? Well, I don’t think you’re reading the right blog.

No matter what race you are, don’t stand by not saying anything. Don’t hide behind the fact that at least it’s not you some idiot is talking about. Don’t walk away and let these people think it’s OK. It’s not. If only we could all just walk away and be thankful it’s not us getting picked on – oh well, I don’t share that person’s opinions – it’s all a bit of harmless gasbagging.

Walk a bad day in my shoes (as opposed to all the millions of good ones that make up my life) and then tell me it’s OK to treat racism like it’s the elephant in the room. I’m tired of it.

I’m done.

Pic: “Why you no like me, Kez?!!”

From the day I accidentally won Ke$ha tickets on the radio (seriously – I wanted to win shopping vouchers or get a new barbecue), I vowed that I would try really really hard to learn how to tolerate (best case: like) her nasal, much-of-the-same-ish music and her body glittered, face painted, Jack Daniels dental hygiene loving persona.

I spent valuable hours minutes on YouTube watching her latest music videos. I even put three of her songs on my ipod. Legally purchased. With money. I organised a BFF to attend the concert with me (a legend of a woman who is also not super enthusiastic about Ke$ha). I even started to remember the words to We R Who We R – I was totally sure I could make the most of a crazy situation. I mean, this concert was a FREE opportunity to be entertained for an evening by an internationally renowned chart topper. I could go for the spectacle of it all, right?

And I didn’t pull any kind of “I’m way too cool for it all” act. I truly tried to get into the spirit of it all. I really did think that I had reached a place of acceptance. I even found myself kind of liking a couple of her songs when they came on the radio. I was somehow able to look past my usual judgement of her (I actually didn’t cringe every time and I don’t say that just for effect – her music actually makes me cringe) and thought I was making progress. So what if her voice is irritating and she seems kind of contrived/not very genuine (not saying she isn’t genuine but she comes across that way)?? So what if her fashion sense makes me want to vom? So what if I’m not a massive fan of promoting young people living for not much more than parties, sex and alcohol and getting in trouble and having to get shut down by the po’ po’??

Oh God, I sound so OLD. Which is kind of already my point. I don’t think Ke$ha is the kind of role model I’d want my (imaginary) 12 year old daughter to look up to, but the whole “tween” thing is more the demographic she appeals to. Which freaks me out quite honestly…I mean, when I was 12 I liked Nirvana and all manner of punk rock – music that actually stood for something! Oh and Alanis Morissette but let’s not go there…

I admit to feeling concerned about being that OLD LADY standing in front of the stage wearing something sensible. It would not have been so good for my ego as skinny little girls wearing teensy weensy outfits waved camera phones in the air and screamed in my ear with their not-a-girl-not-yet-a-woman voices.

So anyhow, fast forward to one week prior to the concert. A week is plenty of time to sell 2 Ke$ha tickets, right? Surely someone in my facebook friend network will either be interested or will know someone who is?? Well, let me tell you…

I picked up the tickets from the radio station. The lady handed me FOUR tickets. Surprise, Kez! You couldn’t handle two tickets?! Now see what you can do with FOUR!!! Seemed that even the radio station couldn’t even give them away. I was in fits of laughter. The fact that I had accidentally won TWO tickets to the concert of my second least favourite artist (the least fave being Nickleback – am I right or am I right? Holla!) had already become quite the joke among friends and family. Four just blew my frickin’ mind! My life frickin’ rocks. If the universe doesn’t have a sense of humour, then I’ll eat my clown hat.

So I went to sell…NO-ONE and I mean NO-ONE wanted them. I was offering half price tickets – HALF PRICE. At one point I even stated that I promised that all arrangements for purchase could be made in PRIVATE and that I would never out them as Ke$ha fans if they didn’t want me to. Nope. Not a dickie bird. It didn’t help that most of my friends are old enough to know better and that there were two major music festivals on this weekend (one at which Ke$ha was also appearing).

I gave two tickets away as a good deed to the partner of a very close family friend, but I still had the two pesky tickets I had originally won.

So…a few days out my husband suggested that I place them on a great local online trading post site. Silence. Not an email graced my inbox. Until two nights out from the concert date (at a ridiculous hour). Then the requests came flooding in. My asking price was the cheapest on the site. I didn’t mind – I was being a bit cheeky as I had received the tickets for free. Girl’s gotta eat.

A whole day wasted on phone calls and text messages and waiting around later (so much for a lazy Sunday where I got to lounge about sans bra and pants – NEXT Sunday is MINE) and the tickets are finally out of my life. A 12 year old girl (whose parents are clearly not on the strict side) is now going to be one happy little vegemite! I make dreams come true, y’all.

I failed to like Ke$ha (my tolerance of her maybe elevated from a 0/10 to a 2/10), but I made some people happy. Four people. Happy. And I made a tiny profit. So all in all? A good venture. If I can just get the echoes of all my friends’ laughter out of my ears, everything will be swell!

I am officially ridiculous. But a little bit sick and sexified. Because “sexified” is a word.

So tell me, readers – what’s the craziest/worst/lamest prize or gift you’ve ever received?

Pic

Well, hello there lovely readers! Can you believe we’re beginning the third month of 2011 already?! This year is going by so fast that my wheels (metaphorical wheels of course – you didn’t actually think I have wheels did you?!) are spinning!!

So what happened in February, you ask?

Booked a Contiki tour of Europe
OK, so the hubby and I have wanted to travel for years. We kind of bypassed the crazy gap year youthfulness of Contikis by jumping straight into home ownership and mortgages. Add a little drama to spice things up and travel got kind of left by the wayside! Not anymore!!

We decided to scare the crap out of ourselves. We went to a travel expo one weekend after the hubby saw a television ad for it – that day. We somehow ended up at the Contiki booth asking questions about the European Highlights tour (which we had tentatively had our eyes on) and before you knew it we were booked and paid by the end of the week (we got a good expo deal that requires massive immediate payment in full – sorry credit card)!!! Now we are forcibly obligated to save as much moolah as we can (not to mention paying back our poor credit card). I think this technique, while scary, is great because now we HAVE to commit. We have to take the plunge and do our travel thing. It can be so easy to not make it a priority or talk yourself out of it because you’re scared you won’t have the money. Sure it takes a bit of re-jigging of the ol’ household budget but it’s totally possible!

Kez tip? Money can’t buy experience. DO IT. Whatever “IT” is.

Girls night at an outdoor cinema
I’ll be honest – I haven’t got out much in February. In fact, I can’t even remember what I wear when I’m socialising. I live in mismatched home-y, Bridget Jonesy type wear these days and eye shadow (which I wear when I’m really serious about getting out) is a memory of the past.

So I was very excited when I went with a bunch of my girlfriends to see Morning Glory (a Rachel McAdams chick flick). We had picnic rugs and picnic food to feed an army. There’s one thing about my friendship group: We cater well. Everyone always brings a dish (the creativity is amazing) and we all laugh at how we will never eat it all, do our best to make a dent in the food supplies and then take half of it home with us again! Every time. Without fail. It’s become a running joke.

Seriously. And you can’t even see the bags of popcorn or the fifty seven (exaggeration? Maybe) varieties of chocolate biscuits…

The movie was better than I expected and there was a fantastic atmosphere. We even survived the mosquitos. Something I am so proud of because I am a mosquito magnet. I am TOTALLY using the same repellent again next time!

Survived a heatwave (only just…)
I think it was the hottest February on record (I think…hey I’m not a meteorologist and I’m too lazy to check if my memory serves me correctly – fact checking fail – just go with it). With unusual humidity and temperatures in the mid 30s EVERY day as well as the minimums being in the 20s, everyone was melting. The only cure was air conditioning, beaches (when the sand wasn’t too hot) and swimming pools – would you believe that even the swimming pool at my parents’ house got TOO warm to use and it doesn’t have a heater?!

People without air con – well, I prayed for them. It was not pleasant. I heard talk of cold showers 4 times a night, wet flannels on foreheads, wet bath towels on bodies and attempts to sleep under a fan whilst sucking on ice cubes…

I am a fan of summer and sunshine but it did get a bit much!!

How was YOUR February??

Pic

You know those people who just have to tell everyone every little detail of last night’s dream? People who go into every little, boring, confusing detail about their nocturnal life? In person, on blogs, twitter – you name it?

You know the types:

“Oh my gawd. I had the craziest dream last night! It was so strange – you were in it – only you weren’t you. You had someone else’s face but I knew it was you. And the dream was set at my parents’ house only it looked nothing like my parents’ actual house but I knew it was their house? And then halfway through the dream I was suddenly somewhere else and you weren’t you anymore – not the you with the different face but another you that looked like Lady Gaga and then you were talking to this person who was like either good or evil and I couldn’t tell and then all of a sudden we were running only we couldn’t run properly and then we were falling and I kept freaking out that we were gonna die and then something bad was about to happen and then I woke up – which is really really lucky because I heard that if you die in a dream then you die in real life? So what do you think it all MEANS?”

Ugh. Those despicable people. They’re probably also the types of people who get stuck in tight clothing in a changeroom or make awkward jokes in line at the supermarket…

Oh wait – I’m one of them. I admit it. I freakin’ love overanalysing my dreams and telling people (just a select few victims – my parents and my darling husband). I cannot help it. I’m one of those dorks who thinks every dream they remember is the best movie they’ve seen all year. I just cannot get over the craziness of my subconscious! I think my subconscious is better than everyone else’s – it’s so interesting and funny and it just knows me so well. I would totally marry it!

When I was in high school I even kept a dream journal. I’m sure it was SO insightful. I’m sure there were lots of imaginary dream crushes, bitchy girls and feelings of being ‘lost’ and finding myself. Ha!

I’m sure it was all like, “Yeah it was soooo totes weird. I was like totally making out with this guy who I don’t even like in real life but in the dream I thought he was totally hot and now that I’m awake and living in the real world I can’t shake the feeling of how hot the guy was in the dream – it’s so weird seeing him at school each day. Oh my gawd. Do I like have a crush on him now or something? I think I’ll need to spend all day hanging about in my bedroom writing poetry or something until I figure this out.”

I kind of take my dreams a bit seriously sometimes. I have been known to (unknowingly) predict some global disasters.

And I freak out when sh*t gets Freudian.

Now I just mostly save the funny bits for the hubby. It’s all totally a sh*t stirring move on my behalf. I know it’s annoying and crazy personish but it’s hilarious He squirms a bit, groans at the parts that I thought were supposed to be funny and then I turn the mentally unstable dial to 11 just as he’s feeling the pain of being married to an annoying chatterbox! Oooooooh yeah.

Inception had nothing on me, suckas!

I mean come on, I dream about awesome things. Land sharks – who knew there was such awesome lurking in my subconscious? Sharks that come out of the water onto land and try to attack you – duh. Or ginormous OCEAN hippos?? Bigger than whales?! THE PURE AWESOME IS SO BRIGHT IT BLINDS ME!

Perhaps I should stop watching I Shouldn’t Be Alive. Or just be LESS AWESOME.

So…tell me all about your latest dream – I won’t even stop you or act bored or anything!
Or you could just send me hate comments or band together to conduct an intervention…