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2009: Year of the Yellow

Well everybody, it appears we made it. Welcome to two-thousand-and-nine. Can't forget those nine can we? It wouldn't be 2009 without them.

In any case…

I decree – you know, because I can and all – that this year shall be Year of the Yellow!

I don't know why. I don't know how.

Actually, that's a lie. I know exactly how. It shall be filled and loaded and jam-packed with yellow stuff, things, and all manner of curious entities.

Look at how luscious, how simple & homely the yellow looks from this nice chomped out piece of Banana Paddlepop (has anyone else noticed that Banana Paddlepops almost seem like they're being phased out and are harder & harder to find?). 

Why that Paddlepop would make a nice soothing icy cold wallpaper. A shame if you click on it, all you get is an image sized barely big enough for your iPhone. 

It's not just that though. Look at the other yellow things there are.

A Jelly Belly jellybean decided to wander into my life yesterday. It said "You there? What day is this?" and I quickly thought to say "Are you daft? It's Christmas Day" but didn't because:

  1. I'd be wrong, and
  2. Jellybeans shouldn't be able to speak.

So I quickly ate the evidence of talking jellybeans and went on with my day.

Still, it is a rather enticing colour is it not.

I'm starting my Year of the Yellow with a nice new pair of yellow drawn-on Converse that I bought yesterday. Find something yellow and celebrate the year under that great globular entity we call the sun.

If you don't… well you don't. Nothing bad happens. It's just an idea. 😛

Wow! I take photos? Who knew?!

You might have noticed but there've been less updates lately.

I apologise for this, and I apologise profusely. My site – something I hold dear to my heart – has been left by the wayside lately as I'm often just too exhausted from working at work & side projects to add something to my site.

But not this week… for I have actually taken some photos this week… so…

PREPARE TO BE OVERLOADED WITH PHOTOS!!!

Overloaded my friend… like an all you can eat buffet except replace the words "all you can eat" with "Leigh stuffing random crap down your throat while he holds your head to the wall".

This means you'll be enduring a "Leigh stuffing random crap down your throat while he hold your head to the wall BUFFET."

Oh yeah. Beat that Sizzler.

A Random Indian Chap Calls

I just had a random Indian guy at the door. Since my little buzzing thing decided not to work, I had to venture outside my apartment door to see what it was.

You know you're in for a treat when there's a random Indian guy outside smiling at you.

Remember, he's "not here to sell you anything".

I probably should have told him that by turning up to my door and saying "I'm not here to sell you anything," his actions look the contrary. Seriously, why is there a random Indian guy at my door buzzing me if he's not here to sell me something?

If he was here at the convenience of my council or my cat, that'd be fine. But last I heard, Waverly Council is too cheap to send anything my way as a convenience (other than a letter informing me that I owe them more money for having them fuck some other part of Bondi up) and my cat… well… he's insane and wouldn't bother hiring an Indian to do anything.

All pills are hard for me to swallow

I've never quite gotten used to the prospect of swallowing a pill. I've never found it easy and the smaller the pill is, the more comfortable I am.

Not that I'm at all comfortable with pill swallowing. Ever.

At the moment, I have the feeling of a chest infection which a doctor has in turn prescribed me with Klacid, pills that aren't big but are too big for me.

I have just discovered how un-useful mixing it with yoghurt can be… because I have tasted the pill.

I maybe now have half of the pill mixing in my belly, my doage of one-and-a-half pills somewhat near the two I'm supposed to have per day.

What's so irritating about this is that at lunch time, I was able to swallow the pill pretty easily. It did feel like a clump was in my throat but other than that, I was fine. Now, the prospect of another clump scares the hell out of me which persuaded me to crush the pill… and now I've tasted it.

I really am curious about something… if pills taste so god awful, why the hell aren't pharmaceutical companies adding a hint of mint or lemon to dull the disgusting flavour just the slightest?

Like this is not fun stuff to take, perish the thought if I ever have to take something bigger.

Seriously, where's my chocolate-fucking-antibiotics?!

Not lost, not forgotten, and 24 for only a few more hours.

Changing age is an interesting thing. A funny thing. A curious thing. A weird thing. Not really a sexy thing.

i guess changing age can be seen as "a thing". It's neither good nor bad though I'm sure some would see that another year gone by, another year wasted might be a bad thing.

In the past year, I've met people. I've had fun, seen a lot of things, done a few things, and been about as general and unspecific as I'm being right about now.

It would be safe to say that this year I've done stuff.

And in a few hours, I'll be 25. Time to start the year afresh, not from when the year actually starts – something which is a month and a half away or so – but rather from my year.

What will happen this year? Will I get published, loved, drunk, hated, cared for, smashed with a cream pie, or just given a cup of coffee?

Geeze… for my last blog when I'm 24… I'm really making a lousy time at it. 

 

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