REMEMBERING STUFF IS FOR FOOLS

So here I am desperately trying to remember what it was that I said in my previous entry that crashed and burned when I tried to post it…Oh the humanity…alright I suppose on a grand scale this occurrence isn’t as bad as the Hindenburg tragedy Nobody died, it won’t signal the end of a mode of transport and it isn’t related to a tyrannical empire, but it fucken means heaps to me. I slaved away and wasted valuable hours which could have been used for more rewarding pursuits (surfing the net for porn, having a crap, foraging for lost treasure in either of my nostrils, calling a friend, adopting a little Ethiopian kiddie, running away from the paparazzi, writing songs for my next album, calling a press conference, admitting to a drug dependence, cleaning my ears, plucking my nostril hairs…lets face it I could fill your screen with a massive list of things I could have been doing). But oh no, I dedicated a couple of minutes to a keyboard assault that was ignored and disposed of with one click of a post button. Still I could have written it in Microsoft Word and done the cut ‘n’ paste thing like I did for this entry. I will attempt to recover the results of my feverish typing from the lower depths of my head for you now…although I know this will blow for sure…read on at your own peril.

So I was talking to the girlfriend of my favourite lady ‘mosexual the other night and she was telling me how they had just celebrated their first anniversary of love. Oh yeah ‘mosexuals can hang in for the long haul, hubby and I are into 2 and a half years already so stick that in your pipe and smoke it. Anyway we were talking about how quickly time flies and all that spazzy crap you get into when you’re stoned and rambling on the phone. As a side note I would like to point out that the only reason I remember this topic of conversation is because I wrote it down the minute she mentioned it…phew. It was then that she mentioned how difficult it was to learn the phone numbers of your partner and it struck me as one of the most difficult things about a new relationship. Yes, while the average punter is worried about how to put up with that thing that shits them, wether they’ve made the right choice, when is the right time to slip a fart out and learning how to say ours, we and us instead of mine, I and me, I was focussed on remembering a friggen phone number. I don’t have a good memory at the best of times so when hubby and I first hooked up and it got serious I was madly working behind the scenes to memorise not only his mobile but his home number as well.

Do you understand the pressure and expectation that comes with a relationship when you are a living, breathing adult in his 30’s with the memory of a goldfish? I would spend days just staring at the numbers trying to make it second nature. Then because my memory is so short term I’d wonder who the hell this number belonged to and why I was staring at it. KIDDING! Of course, it is with great pride that I mention I have learnt the numbers off by heart, but even now I still have lapses. It is kind of like when you forget how to spell the simplest of words. Someone will be standing over you and you suddenly go blank on how to spell ‘the’ or ‘we’ or ‘kidney’. Everyone has those moments don’t they? As for memorising hubbies birthday don’t even mention it. I vividly remember being in a department store filling out one of those forms that authorises them to send you useless crap and build points to buy more useless crap. Anyway it gets to the point where you have to write your partners birthday down and I had a complete mental blank while he was standing along side of me watching. Talk about freaking out inside my tiny head, which of course uses more mental capacity, which means I drain other resources, which means I was drooling and recreating scenes from Rain Man and Forest Gump. Although without the touching teary parts that could win me an Oscar, it was more of a call security, get a cattle prod and round up some big, no neck security types who are coming down from a steroid cocktail. So yeah, remembering stuff is for fools, live for the moment, write things down and get yourself some serious as shit personal assistant who can whisper in your ear while smiling inanely at anyone approaching you….sorted.