Very Bad Things Part 6

I left the bloody dog in the car - AGAIN.

No no not in the searing heat - it's freeeeeeezing here. No, not at the shopping centre, and not at the pub whilst I spend all the food money on the poker machines.

In the driveway.

Bloody mutt cries at the door as soon as she hears me pick up the keys. If I'm doing a school/kinder run I always take her. If I am heading to the local shop I take her too because she is like a kid that always wants to go for an adventure.

Most times I let her sit in the front seat (cos she is a bit of a princess), but in winter the shaggy dog can get quite soggy so I put her in the back of the station wagon and since she fell asleep on the 10 minute trip to the post office I completely forgot about her.

So 4 hours after I got home, The Batchelor rocks in the door asking if I have forgotten anything - then promptly releases an overexcited bundle off fluff down the hall and onto my face. He drove in the driveway and saw a little face in the back of the car.

Lots of lickage. Then she ran to the backyard to wee.


Anyhoo - I have resolved to only let my poochy princess in the FRONT seat of the car from now, and only in the very back when on holidays - cos I have to unpack at some point and will surely remember she is there even if she is asleep.

Very Bad Things Part 5

Oh I am ROTTEN, I really am.

Last week The Bachelor asked me to do an errand for him. I am happy to help him like that because I like living in his house. He gave me his keycard.

I had several things on the list, but when I got to the shopping centre I completely forgot what they were.

There are so many huge sales on.....you know where this is going right?

Yeah, I gave his card a flogging. Well, it was only a medium sized flogging -ok?

I bought 2 skirts, 3 tops and a new hat and quite frankly it's all his fault.

WHY? Because he gave me his key card.

He KNOWS me, he knows what I'm like and also knows I haven't bought myself any new clothes since the last Ice Age.

He also told me a few weeks ago that he got a huge amount back from his tax.

He knows I have an important party to go to.


So as you can see, The Batchelor asked me...NO, begged me to run amok at his expense.

When I came out of my spell, and looked down at all the bags in my hand I dropped my high just a little. I felt slightly bad and I tried my best to remember what I was really supposed to be doing. For the life of me I could not remember what he wanted me to do for him.

So I bought him some socks.

The End.

Very Bad Things Part 4

This is a good'un chicks, so hang onto your hats because it involves the first time I ever saw an erect penis.

Ok so I met this young fella who turned out to be a complete FUCKTARD, so for the purpose of this story he shall be referred to as fucktard. We were at a local 'hang out' during the school holidays and if I remember correctly I would have been in Year 7 at secondary school, so about 13 years old. Met dude, thought he was cute and did a bit of pashing as you do.

It was time to go home so we walked to the back of the complex to get his BMX bike. We did a bit more kissing at the bike sheds....when all of a sudden there was something sticking into my leg and I looked down and there was this ummmmm penis looking back up at me. Oh LORDY I shit my Catholic School pants, pushed him away and ran off in absolute shock. It was just THERE....bobbing away all scary like. I couldn't believe what I just saw.....and since when did a bit of pashing involve PENISES...in BROAD DAYLIGHT?????

I put it to the back of my poor confused mind and went back to school a few weeks later when holidays were over.

Then it happened. On the bus on the way home from school one of the boys from another school called out - "Hey Lulu, do you know fucktard?". Ummm yes, I replied. "oh yeah he says he fucked you behind the bike shed last summer".

The entire bus chock full of kids from 3 different schools fell silent immediately. And looked at me. Of course I was bright fricken red, I just said OMG of course NOT, that's bollocks. I looked up at the older girls from my school for some sort of support but they just shook their heads and looked out the window.

But it didn't matter what I said did it? A reputation I never had a chance to build was in tatters across entire suburbs. It was humiliating beyond words, and a awful burden to carry at that age.

So what's a girl to do??? I spent many, many days and nights pondering. How to exact a decent revenge? It was never going to be as public as my humiliation - but still I had to do something.

So....I wrote a series of horrific little Nursery Rhymes. Something along the lines of

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Look over your shoulder
because I'm gonna come after you with a chainsaw and cut your fucking balls off.

I have spent the last few weeks trying to remember some of them exactly and I can't do it for the life of me. But please note I'm a girl brought up on Grimms Fairy Tales and there was alot of anger behind it all....he he he he.

Anyhoo, I tracked down where fucktard lived, carefully wrote my prose on a variety of different cards, stamped and addressed them accordingly and sent them to my cousin who lived interstate and got her to send them from up there. One every fortnight for MONTHS.


These days it's called stalking......

Very Bad Things - Part Three

I stole my dads car when I was 15....but I had to get to work so I totally justified it to myself ok?

Hey, I was running late and work called to hassle me. The car was sitting in the driveway and the keys were there.

I had been driving around the country roads in mums Honda a few times so therefore I knew was I was doing - how hard could it be?

Never mind the fact dads car wasn't a Honda




It was a dirty big ole Valiant Charger. With a steering wheel like a bus and the handling of the QE2.

Of course I was wearing my teenage princess-of-everything-and-holder-of-all-knowledge pants, grabbed the keys and hopped right in and drove to work very uneventfully.....actually I was crapping those princess pants and it got worse when it came to parking. I HAD to park in a multi-level thingos, and it's not fun negotiating them when you are driving the equivalent of said QE2.

In fact I somehow managed to drive it up the side of the car in space next to mine. I somehow grazed the side and the valiant got caught on the strip on the other car and I was inching into the space so slowly I didn't notice until I felt like I was tipping over. I reversed back and noted no damage to either vehicle....and a guy behind me killing himself laughing.

I managed to get the car back home later that night, (undetected!) - and swore never to do it again, cos maybe I wasn't as smart as I thought.

Very Bad Things Part 2

I crashed Daddys car. Actually I ROLLED it.

One minute I was on a windy road thinking "jeez, you have to be careful on these roads when it drizzles like this", then I hit a teeeeny pothole....


I was doing 45 kms and I know this because I looked at the dashboard as I prepared to enter a sharpish bend.


All of a sudden the entire front of the car lifted. I became airborne. I took my hands off the steering wheel (no point steering when you are flying), screamed NOOOOOOO and then the world turned upside down.


This car was a great big, heavy FORD...and it flew, then it flipped and slid down the hill on it's roof. It was about 15 metres but it felt like a lifetime. I also remember being more worried about the jar of olives and dads camera that fell out of the console and narrowly missed my head.


Imagine surviving initially but being killed by a random jar of olives.


It eventually stopped on the gravel (the NOISE!), and there I was hanging upside down by the seatbelt with the engine still running. Hmmm, what to do?


Turn off the ignition. Look around. Notice a car slowing down in coming the other way. Notice it begin to speed up again. BEEEEEEEEP the horn madly whilst still hanging upside down.


Unclick my seatbelt, land on my neck and a shitload of glass. Notice 500 people crowded around the car trying to prise open the mashed up doors. Crawl to the back of the car and wind the window down.....erm UP and am dragged to freedom in one piece by a man wearing a flannette shirt.

Apparently this man is my HERO because I am unable to let go of his shirt. To the ambulance (declared FINE, and ignored my pleas for valium), back to the car and whilst calling a friend to pick me up (NOT my dad)....I cannot let go of his shirt until my friend appears to take me home.

Yeah, dad was NOT happy but changed his mind pretty quickly when he saw the car in the wreckers yard. I don't think he keeps olives in the console anymore.

Very Bad Things - Part one (B)

In response to a few of you who remember seeing that sign - and who could forget it? - YES it was awhile ago. Hhhmmm I think it must have been about 10 years (?). It was good old Dean Allen Craig that reported on it. They interviewed me when I stopped to take a pic of the damage and I DID admit it was me but that I wasn't prepared to cop the further damage that had been done - the "church" had to lay back (face down tee hee?) and take it since they seemed to WANT that type of response.

Still, it must have been a slow news day.....thank heavens cos I was hungover as HELL (like the puns?) and refused to take off my sunnies during the interview.

The "church" is located close to my dad's house and it was there (in pristine condition) for at least a week before I drove past enough times FUMING in disbelief to make me really wanna DO something. I moved to the area about 3 years ago and I STILL watch that sign like a hawk lol.



Anyway, here is the machine I was driving at the time complete with Tasty Chef.

Tasty Chef cooked for me and taught me what wine goes with what meal, how to use a knife properly....and sometimes put on a killer scottish accent that used to drive me....


But I digress

Very Bad Things - Part one

Yep, I did it. It was ME.

I defaced a church sign.

But how can you leave something like that bright and shining in the world that you live??

It originally said "God hates Homosexuality".

After many conversations, with many different friends of all different religions everyone agreed that God shouldn't (or didn't) HATE anything.

So I bought a big FAT black texta especially for the job. Recruited a friend and her sister to come along for moral support...and in the dark of the night scrawled my response (well OUR response) and drove away into the night (in my pristine HZ Holden Station Wagon with a 308 on straight gas in case you were wondering).

News crews arrived, locals were interviewed and everyone felt the same way as I. Shocked.

It all went pear-shaped because the deal I made (in my head) was that I would come and clean it off again if the owners of the sign would rescind their words. No harm done.
Well others really wanted to drive the opinion home and the sign was subsequently spray painted and had holes put right through the lot.

Ah well.