• talk to myself in the mirror
• inhale deeply when I walk behind the French guy’s desk at work, because he smells good
• google all my doctors, yoga teachers, hair dressers, therapists, etc, to try and find personal information about them
• set up fake email accounts under my parents’ names and feed them through my inbox, even though I have never actually used them
• photograph strangers on public transport
• wear the clothing of anyone who has left jackets/shirts/pants at my house
• look up girls’ skirts when they’re above me on the escalator
• smell other people’s hair

Ryan: I’m so high.
Me: Me too.
Ryan: Want to go to the Voodoo lady’s house?
Me: Dude, I am ripped. I wouldn’t even go to an ATM right now.
Ryan: Good call. Let’s get burritos instead.

Me: When I’m old and I think back on my twenties, all I’m going to remember is being stoned and walking down Riley Street.
Ryan: Naw, come on… I’m sure you’ve been stoned on lots of other streets too.

Ryan: I don’t know why that girl got so mad at me.
Me: Well, according to my therapist–
Ryan: Please don’t even finish that fucking sentence.

Ryan: Want to come over for pasta tonight?
Me: Sure. Will Rosh be there?
Ryan: He has a dinner date. But if this chick is anything like the last one he dated, she’ll probably want to eat twice, so I’m sure they’ll make an appearance.

Olivia belongs to my friend Kristen. Now that she is two and a half years old, I can finally have proper conversations with her. She is kind of like Rain Man and mostly gives one-word answers, but every now and then, she brings out the gold.

Me: So I heard your parents are toilet training you.
Olivia: Yeah.
Me: That’s pretty cool.
Olivia: Yeah.
Me: Can you do a poo in the toilet yet, or just wees?
Olivia: Poos and wees.
Me: Pumping.
Olivia: Yeah.

Me: Do you have a boyfriend?
Olivia: Yeah.
Me: Is he cute?
Olivia: Yeah.
Me: What’s his name?
Olivia: Dunno.
Me: So it’s pretty casual then?
Olivia: Yeah.

Olivia: I saw bats in the park and they eat Vegemite and pizza.
Me: Bullshit. Bats eat fruit.
Olivia: And pizza.
Me: I live near the Domain. I think I know what I’m talking about.
Olivia: Nah.
Me: I’m not even going to argue this with you because you’re being illogical. Wanna go inside and watch Mad Men?
Olivia: Yeah.

Housies at Halfway Crooks

• they drink a lot of juice.
• they get mad when you hook up with their friends.
• they are ordinarily incapable of organising anything more complicated than a home-delivered pizza, but can fashion a fish tank from an abandoned computer monitor they discovered on the street or prepare an impressive variety of liquor-filled frozen Easter eggs in just a few moments.
• if you have a party, they will get completely blind and then pass out in their bedrooms while you are left to make sure nobody steals the TV or starts a fire.
• they can yell awful, psychologically-damaging things at each other, sit in stormy silence for 45 seconds, and then start chatting again normally as if nothing ever happened.
• when you get dumped and wake them up with your crying, they are pretty useless and will generally just pat you on the back and tell you analogies about boats to try and put things in perspective for you. I guess that still helps though.
• they eat a lot of cereal.

Literal Man wasn’t expecting his wife home for another 3 hours, so when Regina walked in and discovered him in bed with his receptionist, everyone was shocked.

After a moment of stunned silence, Regina stormed over to their dresser and picked up her jewellery box. “Fuck off!” she told at the receptionist, who was hastily gathering her clothes. Regina then turned to her husband.

“You bastard,” she spat. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll have nothing. I’m going to take you to the cleaners!”

“Oh yeah?” Literal Man screamed. “Well I’m going to sue the shit out of you and take a lot of your money!”

He picked a razor from the bedside table and sliced his wrist open for dramatic effect. As he bled out, he wished he had remembered to charge his mobile phone so he could call an ambulance.