Yes, these are the top stupid, lame and just plain weird pick-up lines I have endured. How about you? Love to hear your worst....

1. Hey sexy, can I kiss your pretty feet? (Let's not and say we did eh?)
2. Wanna be my whore? (No. Wanna be my first homicide victim?)
3. You should see your aura.... (Maybe you should give the weed a break heh?)
4. Do you know what sex is? (I'm 21, engaged, and sex obsessed dipshit, what the hell do you think????)
5. Wanna fool around, I got a web cam and I'm 'blessed'... ;> (You need therapy. Not a web cam.)
6. Its really easy to hog tie a girl. (True... its also really easy for my man to kick your boney little freak ass)
7. Would you like to come home with us? (Let's see... would getting gangbanged by six drunk engineering students make my life brighter? No.)
8. I have bongo music in my car.... You'd like my car. (I'd like you driving away in it better...)
9. If your not a lesbian like your friend I'd do you.  (Neither of us are lesbians. Please note my index finger as I walk away.)
10. So... what do you want for your birthday? Me? (You are a dreadlocked loser I met at a bar I didn't want to be at the day after my birthday... I'd like a shotgun and a headstart of ten seconds for you,)

Got my stitch out today, and it hurt a lot less than I had expected. I wasn't expecting pain because I am a wuss but because the nurse was a ham-fisted bitch last time and I expected pain again. She was actually very nice and gentle this time. Hmmmm....
The weird thing is that the nurse and my doctor think I'm allergic to band-aids. Of all the things to be allergic to, I got band-aids?!?!?! Who the hell is allergic to band-aids? Seriously? So that takes my allergies to a pretty unhappy allergy to a chemical in personal lubricant, a mild one to laytex, one tp some unknown grass or pollen which caused me hives, and band-aids that cause swelling and slight blistering. Geez... Where was I when they were handing out the cool allergies? lol I'm just being silly, allergies are not funny, and more and more people are getting them. And to be serious, I think they may be right because the swelling caused by the band-aids hurts worse than the hole in my arm... I'm just glad that my new doctor actually takes me seriously, even when I'm not compaining of anything. This is a nice change.:D

This not my work, I got this verbatim from a site called http://shiokfood.com/notes/
But I couldn't resist sharing this: I have tried for years to make decent rice. It always turns out a starchy sludge puddle. So here is Madhu's awesome recipe for fail-proof rice. I hope he doesn't mind... (Just to clarify, everything that is written from the bold heading down is not my work, it is Madhu Menon's and I take no credit for anything after the italic text. Just being sure to avoid confusion...)

How to make perfect steamed rice (By Madhu Menon)

Rice... that wonderful grain. The foundation of Asian cuisine. The neutral agent with which all flavours meld. What would we do without it?

Steamed rice is pretty simple to make. But it surprised me when I was teaching a cookery class a couple of months back and some people asked me how to make rice that wasn't sticky or overcooked or undercooked. Then I got a few queries on email about the same thing. And of course I promised in my article on fried rice that I would write a piece on how to steam rice properly. So here it is: the simple oil-free way to get nice, fragrant, separate rice that's perfectly cooked. All you need is rice, water, and a thick heavy-gauge pan with a tight-fitting lid.

What you need

Long-grain rice - 1 cup

Water - 1.5 cups

How to make it

First, you need to wash off the excess starch from the rice. This will prevent it from making a sticky mess. Put the rice in a deep bowl, and in your sink, run cold tap water over it. Once the bowl is full of water, use your fingers to swish the rice around. The water will start getting murky. Now gently pour this water out. Repeat this process till the water is mostly clear. This will take at least 4-5 washes.

Now fill it up one last time. Don't wash the rice again. Just leave it in there, covered with water, for about 30 minutes or so. Why am I doing this? I freely admit I'm still trying to figure out the science behind it, but it results in a much fuller, softer grain. After the soaking, you will notice that the rice grains have turned a nice milky white.

OK, let's drain the water out carefully again. Try and get as much water out of the bowl as you can without pouring out the rice grains as well. This takes patience.

(All this isn't as complicated as it's beginning to sound. I just like to ensure I've covered everything.)

On to cooking the rice...

Put the rice in a heavy-gauge pan that has a flat bottom. This bit is important. If your pan is made out of some thin flimsy metal, your rice will get nicely burnt at the bottom while the grains at the top may not cook properly. You also need one with a tight lid, or else the precious steam will leak and your rice won't cook right. Many Indian homes have vessels that have a concave bottom. These will just not work. The flat bottom is required.

Now put in the water. Normally, a long-grain rice recipe calls for twice the amount of water as rice. Why then are we using only 1.5 cups of water? Because our rice has already been sitting in some water for a while, and has absorbed a bit of it. Moreoever, there is still some leftover water after you drained it, because no one can drain it absolutely dry.

I like to add 1/2 teaspoon salt to the rice, but most Asian recipes don't salt the rice. This is your choice.

Put the pan on medium high heat. Wait till the water boils and starts bubbling. Now turn the heat down as low as you can, cover with the tight lid, and let it just sit there for about 15-20 minutes. Resist the urge to lift the lid and peek at the rice. No, I'm sorry, you can't have even one peek! If you do that, I will rap you on the knuckles with a cane, you hear?

After the 15-20 minutes is up, turn off the heat. No, you still can't lift the lid. Now you have to let it "stand" for another 10 minutes or so. This will help the rice to "settle" so you don't have dry grains on top and wet grains at the bottom.

After 10 minutes, lift the lid, admire the rice (yes, it will look that good), take a fork and fluff the rice. You will have nice separate grains without having used any oil, butter, or other fat in the cooking process.

Your rice is ready to serve with whatever you choose. I recommend a nice Thai red curry with chicken and some stir-fried veggies.

This method of cooking rice is known as the "absorption method". 

Chef's notes

I also like to add a bruised stick of lemon grass to the rice while it's cooking. The subtle fragrance and flavour are amazing. Take the bottom piece (the last 6 inches) of a lemongrass stalk, bruise it with a heavy object (I use my stone pestle) and add it with the water.

Cooked rice will increase in volume by 300% of the original raw rice. So if you're cooking one cup of rice, make sure that your pot can hold at least four cups, preferably five. Otherwise you could end up with a mess as the water spills all over the kitchen top.

Did I mention how important that tight lid is? I did? Well, I'll say it again.

Leftover rice can be put in the fridge, and it will make splendid fried rice the next day.

(If you liked this article, please do visit Shiok, my restaurant in Bangalore or recommend it to a friend.)

You know that Brothers and Sisters show? Where Sally Field's husband had a long long long affair with this other chick, and even had a kid with her? And how this all comes out to Sally and the kids after he has a heart attack, falls in the pool and dies? Well, tonight all the fmaily (well, the family that didn't already know and weren't lying to the rest) found out about the illegitimate daughter. This was huge for them. 'World destroying' actually. They are all adults with their own secrets and experiences and yet they blow the whole deal out like it was a serial killer in the family.
I found out that my dad had an illegitimate daughter when I was about ten or twelve from a clandestine father's day card. I'd met her once before I found out, but she was introduced as a friend of my cousins. It was no big deal for me. As far as I was concerned, it had very little to do with me at all. I knew for a few years before my dad sat me down and told me. He probably would have kept it a secret much longer (my mums kids still don't know) but we were going to my aunt's 80th birthday party and one of my sisters had already bailed on the event to avoid seeing the illegitimate daughter at the party because it was all too traumatic for her. They had found out almost 30 years ago and they were still mad and had never wanted to meet her. But then, its been twenty one years since I was born and they still hate me too. Elephantine anger. Because they asked him to my father refused to marry my mother until I was three years old. I had to find that out from my birth certificate at a library photocopier in my final year of high school. And still, I dealt with it. It did not ruin my life. Of course, it did hurt that they didn't tell me I was 3 years illegitimate myself, but dad's affair and subsequent child during his first marriage makes no difference to me. What did make a difference was when my mother caught my dad out for calling his ex-wife secretly when mum was taking my to karate. All his daughters knew, but mum didn't. This exaserpated their already strained relationship to the point where dad left. I enjoyed the break, becuase mum was much nicer when dad wasn't around to aggravate her (and I was always there to be her outlet because she couldn't hurt him). He, of course, returned some months later with his tail between his legs. And here's the really dysfunctional part: my mum got me to help try and record my dad calling the other woman while we were out.
So I'm not really angry about the afair all those years ago, or the phone calls. I'm simply mad that my father didn't put his new family on the same level of importance at which he placed everyone else: friends, his other children, shop keepers.... pretty much anyone else. I'm mad that my mother chose to take her frustrations with life and my father out on me. I'm mad that they lied to me, I'm mad thet they willingly hurt me. And that's the thing that people have to realise. The kids from Brothers and Sisiter aren't really mad about the other kid. Not really. What they are mad about is that the deceit hurts, and the fact that to their father someone else was more important than them hurts. They are hurt because they were lied too and feel betrayed. The only person who was really betray was their mother: she married a man who broke their wedding vows for the whole of their marriage. Most women could get over their husband simply having casual sex, you'd hate him and never trust him fully again, but it could be gotten over. But he loved another woman. He cared for her, he had a child with her. That's what hurts her the most. The father didn't really betray the children, or at least not as much as he betrayed his wife. And I think it is pitiful that they are thinking about themselves at a time when their mother is dealing with being betray so badly by someone she loved.
The thing that twinges me is that their father loved them, knew them well, and given that he wasn't dead I'm sure he would apologise for all he's put them through. My father however, is very much alive (unfortunatly), and it has never crossed his mind that he has any reason to apologise for all he has doen to me: not marrying my mum, letting his daughters bully me, letting my mother abuse me, never finding out who I was, detesting and making no attempt to understand who I am.
William Walker of Brother's and Sisters hurt his wife very badly. But he did nothing to his children except love and accept them, and nurture who they were. That should mean more to his children than a woman and a child he had on the side. It would mean a hell of a lot more to me.

A test which gauges your Lost personality decided that both my self and my fiance are Jack... which is quite frankly disurbing as it would then seem that I am in a homosexual relationship... with myself.
Which to me explains Jack's character perfectly...

Funny isn't it? How whenever something bad happens, like a school shooting or a suicide or whatever, everyone immediately looks around for the nearest pop cultural artical to blame??? Eminem, or other assorted rap music, violent video games, the Trench Coat Mafia, etc.
No-one ever steps up and says, you know what? Dylan and Eric shot the shit out of Columbine because they had been bullied at that hole their entire lives. Kids shoot themselves, or their parents in their sleep, because they were abused/neglected/pushed to the limit or some horribly painful combination of the lot. They have depression, or they are achingly lonely, they have suffered abuse from family, friends and/or strangers, they have been hurt badly by someone.
WE are what break our children down. It has nothing to do with anything else. The pop culture of their choice is a crutch, and outlet, a place what nurses their problems, a way to feel connected or strong. Two girls here in Australia commited suicide together. Which is so unbelievably tragic. But now it's all 'Emo made them do it'! Why don't people try and look closer? How was their home life? How was school really? Were they bullied, abused, did one or both have emotional problems? Emo can't make you want to take your life. I wanted to kill myself years and years before I even heard about Emo or rap music or Playstation....
Society is so up in arms about how to save our youth. They try to ban TV programs or video games, or stop their kids listening to some music, or something even more ridiculous. You want to know what our youth need? Stronger, better parents who listen and act constructivly to help their child. Parents who don't abuse their children, who take them seriously, who teach them how to respect others, teach them how to have self-worth. They need teachers who take the responsability seriosuly to eliminate bullying and protect students from it.
Stop looking for someone to blame other than ourselves. You can't fix it if you refuse to see that its broken. Until parents and teachers pull their heads out of their asses, suicides and shootings will keep on happening in increasing numbers.

Numbness, pain, diziness, fever. Nathon wanted to take me to hospital straight away, but I resisted, so we met in the middle and called 13HEALTH, a hotline to nurses for people who want to know if they have reason to freak out or not lol. So we called, she asked me a lot of questions, then told me to go to my nearest hospital NOW. And to call an ambulance if I worsened on the way. So I was offically given license to freak out so we went to the hospital, which is literally two mintues from our house.
A million questions, two Paramax pain releif, and one kind Dr Roger later, it was decided that the doctor who put in the Implanon was slightly incompetant, and also should have explained all the possible symptoms. Other than that I was fine. Which was awesome, because the lady on the phone thought I had a blood infection.
The best part about last night however was not the clean bill of health, or the 5am slurpe and giant kit kat, but that Nathon brought me a get well soon ballon, and left me a get well card this morning. It means a lot to me.
Anyway, gotta go take my Mersyndol and finish the washing up (although Nathon will be mad at me for doing it when I'l sick lol)
Hugs!
*Burn

Yesterday I had the contraceptive rod inserted... Such a nice, innocent word: inserted. Actually they give you a swab with anesthetic, give you a big anesthetic needle, then put cut in your arm with a scalpel, then push a huge needle into the hole and squeeze the rod in. The only problem was, anesthetic doesn't work that well on me, so I felt the scalpel cut, and the doctor wasn't trained for the proceedure and pushed the delivery needle in again and again thinking the rod hadn't going it... when it actually had the first time. I almost passed out after she'd sewn me up and left.
The bruise she left is huge. And moving my arm last night was almost impossible. I think a combination of tiredness, pain, and the new hormones where what caused me to burst into tears every 5 minutes. Nathon took the day off work to be with me, which was awesome, as I was pretty out of it and couldn't have looked after myself very well should I have been alone. He's so beautiful.
Well, that's my whingeing done with. It's still hurting like hell, even holding up a book is impossible. But if it helps me stop my migranes and allows me to get rid of the excess weight then I don't care about the hurting...
But for anyone considering Implanon, it is painful, you will need someone to look after you, because it is a pretty damn crazy proceedure. However it is supposed to be a lot gentler contraceptive in terms of side effects.
Back later,
*Burn

I did a purity test just now, out of sheer boredom and curiousity. I have lost significant points since last time I took it.. along the lines of about 15% (thanks honey ;>).
But the thing that made me sit up and scratch my head was surprisingly not the questions about sex with animals (Thank Nancy Friday for that), but the question as to weither I had ever used a bowling pin to, um, have alone happy time (can't spell masterbation right I don't think... too lazy to look it up). A bowling pin????? Seriously, where the hell would one find a spare bowling pin for a dildo? And don't even get me started on how that thing would fit...  Or if it is a second hand pin? Eww... all that chip grease and ecoli transfer. LOL
I have been taking a few other tests about sex on the site OkCupid. And it is irritating if not surprising that most of the test makers seem to think that your a prude if being tied down and raped by your boyfriend and three of his mates isn't your idea of sexual heaven. This one test asked a lot of questions about what I would do should my partner insisted strongly (made)that I do a range of pretty weird and/or degrading stuff (the rape one from above, let a dog have sex with you, give his mates a blow job while he watches, etc.). Fortunately my man is not the sort of person who thinks watching his woman get it on with Spot is erotic. And as for satisfying his mates, well, can anyone spell broken arms??? I might be a prude, the sexual equivilant of 'school in summer', but if it means I get to live my life never getting gang banged blindfolded as a 'surprise', then I think I'm happy that way. lol 
Seriously though, if that stuff sturns you on, why not? So long as its all consentual and no-one gets hurt who doesn't want to, then what's the problem? The important thing to remember is that everyone has their own sexual style, boundries and tastes. They just might not be yours. So what? So long as no ones forcing you to do it, what does it cost you?
 

Big Brother format: Get the 'cream' of Australia's horny and psychotic youth together in one house, apply alcohol and boredom, shake every Friday, and let the chaos take hold.

It really is quite a sight... Right now the couple, Hayle and Andrew, in the house are fighting because he's having too much 'fun'... TJ wants to be a couple with Brodie, but he kissed her and dumped her on national TV, and she's still doing his washing!!!! The Mormon (yes... exactly!) is crying a lot and wearing FM boots.... The guys are eating all the food... The Plastics are trahing everyone who isn't within earshot... Deme is shaking her butt for any guy who'll bongo drum for her... People trade cuddle partners like Yu-Gi-Oh cards and everyone is always drinking!!!!!

AND ITS ON EVER SINGLE F**KING NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because, don't we all want to spend our nights watching yobos and sluts get drunk and scream and flirt at eachother? I thought that's what clubs were invented for.

My sister says its weird that I don't like the show since I'm supposed to be interested in people... Yes, 'people'... not Taronga Park Zoo's rejects.

Why is TV inundated with this trash? Now we have Lost Tribes, where Plastic daughters, swaggery sons, spoilt wives and asshole husbands get dumped in remote third-world villages to live like and with the local tribes... Pity they didn't leave them there.

The only reality show I've liked so far this millenium was Beauty and the Geek... where a bunch of smart yet geeky guys are locked in a house with the beauty queens of shopping and booty popping... the guys had to teah them stuff like car maintenence and math, and the girls tried to teach the guys style and dance among other things. While the concept was kind of shallow, it was a great laugh, and everyone seemed to leave the show a little more confident or a little nicer than they entered it. The purpose was entertainment, but in the end it really did try and prove that what you look like or what you do for a living (be it Dukes of Hazard fan clud president or professional cheerleader) doesn't really matter... you can get along with and find enjoyment in the company of anyone. Pretty doesn't make you dumb and smart doesn't make you boring.

I wonder what Big Brother's moral is???? 'Get drunk on national TV and be somebody!' lol
Rant over for now.... see you around...
*Burn

Today (Yesterday now...) I got stabbed in both arms by some lovely pathology ladies trying to fill my blood test tube from very stubbourn veins.
My late assigment is done and printed but not handed in as I have a mild people phobia right now and couldn't stand another weird look, even from the parking lot to the assignment slot.
My mother called me gross because I curiously look at the porn pop-ups I get on the PC... The reason I'm still curious at 21 is because sex was a non-topic in my house... and my college blocked porn lol. Its not for sexual gratification, I'm just so damn curious! (I get all the sexual gratification I can handle in real life... hehehehe... yes, I am smug lol) In my defence though, I only look at them when Nathon's with me so we can laugh and cringe together. He knows I'm curious about sex... I've been reading all the books just to catch up on all the stuff I should have known long before now. Plus, it makes for a great surprise for my guy every now and then... My mother is a dried up prude who would die on the spot should she know even half the stuff we get up to... and I'm not going to apologise for being a sexual being or being curious in a non-aroused way... this is my life, I am mentally, physically and emotionally faithful to my man, and we trust and love each other, and have an amazing relationhip. I am happy with myself and my life. The problem is my mother is not. But that's her problem... not mine. So here ends my blah moment about my mother.
Listening to Joni Mitchell and Norah Jones. Smooth and beautiful. Love Joni Mitchell... I want the 70's back!!!! lol
I'm getting Implanon, the plastic contraceptive rod they inject into your arm. My new doctor couldn't believe I'd spent so long on the Pill... aparently I should have gone off it in the first month. However, none of my previous doctors, although I asked them if the Pill was causing my problems, believed it was. All the killer migranes, massively scary weight gain, dizziness and such is due to the horrid little pills... So I'm getting the arm rod which will apparently be much much nicer. YAH!!!!
Hmmm.... That smells like I need to turn my roast... Gotta go...
Hugs and bannana muffins for anyone who reads this still....
*Burn