I live with two boys. They can be quite offensive.

Him: You smell nice.
Me: Thanks!
Him: Yeah… you smell like.. what’s that stuff that you can spray in the toilet after you take a shit?
Me: This is my favourite perfume.
Him: Yeah, like toilet cleaner.

Him: You don’t want there to be any sexual tension amongst housemates. You just don’t want that drama. You should live with people you’re not at all attracted to.
Me: Yeah, totally.
Him: Well that’s the main reason I moved in with you, anyway.

Him: Oh sorry, I should have told you I’d be having friends over.
Me: Why do I need to know that?
Him: Because then you could have put on nicer clothes.

The best part of every episode of Gossip Girl is the show’s clever and unexpected use of irony.

For example, after a lifetime of meticulous avoidance of rumoured carcinogens, Serena develops bowel cancer and shits blood which is gross and all her friends pretend they don’t know her.

If you haven’t checked out ChatRoulette, I highly recommend it. This kept me and my housemate entertained for no less than 2 hours during last Saturday’s never-ending downpour and at first I was embarrassed to be talking to complete strangers in my pyjamas, but by the end I needed to be prised away from the computer.

Some of my favourites included:

• an old man picking his nose and eating it. “Hey buddy!” I said, “What are you doing?” as he stared us in the eye, picked out a booger and munched on it thoughtfully.
• some college bros in Ohio, just chilling in their dorm room, playing the ukulele and chatting to hot babez online
• a still image of a bathroom splattered with blood
• a replay of our own feed
• being asked to show my tits no less than eighteen times
• being called a dog-whore slut when I didn’t show my tits
• seeing various people masturbate and one girl taking it up the arse
• a group of South African students sitting around a room full of musical instruments, holding up a sign saying “SHOW TITS”
• getting flipped off by a bunch of thirteen year old girls/bitches.

Some of my favourite things to do on ChatRoulette:

• saying “Well hi there!” and then hitting NEXT before the other person even has time to reply
• telling everyone to read this blog
• drinking a glass of water very slowly as soon as I get a new person, and waiting to see whether they like it
• asking children where their mother is
• hitting NEXT as soon as I see the other person’s face.

During 2010 I hope to see this technology developed for IRL so I can take it to the pub and hit NEXT until I find somebody interesting to talk to.

Mum’s friend: I hate to say it, but your cat’s getting a little chunky.

Me: So’s your face.

Richard was a member of a Contiki tour group my friend Keira and I belonged to during July 2007. When we caught a ferry from Athens to Mykonos, Richard bought a T-shirt with a giant penis on it that said “Give us a kiss!” and he waved to children. One night, he got really wasted and sang karaoke, emptying an entire bar of tourists in 4.5 seconds flat.

These are his stories:

Pop’s girlfriend: So, Annik, no boyfriend?

Me: Nah, no boyfriend.

PGF: Didn’t you have one last year?

Me: He turned out to be a lying fuck.

PGF: Oh.. my…

Me: Yeah.

PGF: Well, I’m sure you’ll find one this year anyway.

Me: Thanks.

PGF: Tick-tock!

Me: I’m just gonna go now.

Lorikeets are horrible, horrible people and should not be trusted under any circumstances.

I saw some lorikeets once when I was a child, and then I fell off my rollerblades and chipped my four front teeth.

I also have a birth mark on my leg that looks like a pimple.

My favourite rice crackers flavour is salt & vinegar, but not as many brands are making it lately. I am not sure why.

The following post comes courtesy of the sometimes inappropriately funny and always rather good-looking @liceri. I didn’t have to edit this at all, which is awesome, because I’m lazy.

Enjoy.

Annik

Canadian people are insane

My parents are Canadian and mental. From this, I assume that all Canadians are insane. I’m Canadian too but I’ve lived in Australia since I was 3 so it doesn’t really count. As they age, they become less and less guarded about the things they say in front of me (as far as they’re concerned, I’m too old to be emotionally affected by them), and think less and less before they speak because they think I don’t listen anymore. To outsiders, my mum is quiet, reserved, dignified and conservative. She doesn’t swear. She’s never lewd or crude. She’s lovely and cuddly and a pure delight; a true lady. However, in private (and after fair amounts of alcohol), she’s often the opposite.

As for my dad, well, he’s quiet – but he’s measured and thinks before he speaks.

Together, they’re unstoppable.

She’s a mathematical genius

Me: [sings something about ballsacks]
Mum: “Hey! You’re 24. I thought you grew out of that stuff!”
Me: “I grew INTO that stuff, not out of it.”
Mum: [after a long pause] “Wow! You’re going to be 25 soon!”
Me: [laughs hysterically]
Dad: [laughs hysterically]

After seeing an advertisement about bushfires

Mum: [To my dad] “If there’s a fire here, I’m going to take the dog, run straight to the beach and stay in the water. [long pause] What are you going to do?”

Discussing the new Australian Idol judge

Mum: “Well, of course he’s better than that fat dickhead, but he’s also heaps better than that other idiot, whats-his-name, Four-Door Holden or whatever…”

She saw me playing with my iPhone

Mum: “Who are you twatting?”

After I shouted “I have a headache” to no-one in particular

Mum: “SHUT UP!”

After being asked what our (French-inspired) dessert was

Mum: “The menu says ‘apple and lavender tarts, with dulche de leche’, which means ‘I haven’t the foggiest’.”

She saw a T-Shirt with the letter ‘W’ and an anchor (implying ‘wanker’)

Mum: “I don’t get it. Only women allowed on the boat?”

Regarding sperm donation

Mum: “I don’t get it. Why go through all the hassle of buying sperm, all the legalities, all the money spent, when you could just go to a bar, pick up, have sex with anyone and in five minutes it would be done for free?”

On the female anatomy

Mum: “So here in Australia ‘fanny’ doesn’t mean bum, it’s the front bit, right? So, what do you mean by ‘beef curtains’? I don’t get…” [watches me mime parting curtains] “Oh my goodness! Ewwww!”

On Situs Inversis (congenital condition in which the major organs are reversed or mirrored)

[Recieved via Email]

“That’s unbelievable! Guess it could be worse if your body parts were reversed (top to bottom) then your nose would constantly run and your feet would smell……….Anyway, I’m making shepherds pie for dinner. xox”

After being asked to rate a film out of five stars

Mum: “Oh, nine-and-a-half, easily!”

After watching Seven Pounds (film about organ donation)

Mum: “When I go, go ahead and give all my bits away. As if I’m going to even notice – I’ll be dead!”

While reading the morning paper

Mum: “I mean, imagine if you were the parent of the girl who bullied her online, driving her to suicide. How would you feel? It’s just so – OOH! POTATO AND LEEK PIE!”

On David Koch from Sunrise

Dad: “Did you know he used to be a finance reporter?”
Mum: “Did YOU know he’s a total KNOB JOCKEY!?!?”

On abstinence

Mum: “I don’t think I’m going to drink.” [pause] “I’ll just have a glass of Rosé instead.”

They were discussing wacky party themes

Dad: “What about a party with NO ALCOHOL?”[flails arms dramatically]

Mum: [death stare]

Re: their Christmas Eve party

Mum: “We don’t really need plates – it’s all fingering food.”

Dad: [throwing arms up triumphantly] “Excellent!”

On seeing my low-cut dress

Mum: “Are you allowed to have bosoms like that at work?”

Me: “Well, they’re not really removable.”

Upon entering the living room while I’m watching the Sixth Sense with a friend who’s never seen it before

Mum: “Isn’t it amazing that he’s actually DEAD the whole time?!”

1. Wasted by Marya Hornbacher

“I threw up a lot.”

2. Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt

“Dad’s drunk.”

3. Diary of Anne Frank by Anne Frank

“We are so bored.”

4. Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs

“There are shapes in your poop.”

5. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

“Wank wank wank wank.”

Mum: Will you be home for dinner?

Me: Not if you’re cooking.

Mum: You’re being really obnoxious right now.

Me: So’s your face.