A Note From The Writer

Welcome to the archived blog posts (when I was a wee blogger, wet behind the ears and not aware of spell check and various other gramatical structures!) I have kept the writings unedited or reworked as I am in the process of doing a massive rewrite of my entire life, many posts I have yet to publish and this blog was merely writing practise for the massive job of sorting out my emotions whilst retelling the story as cuttingly real and dramatic as the real memory was.. some of the posts contained are raw, streaming emotion.. many posts although painful to write, had a tremendously cathartic effect - cheaper than therapy one would say. I welcome new and old readers to keep in touch via my author email (sensualexplorersatHotmaildotcom) if you have any questions or wish to share the feelings and emotions raised by my work.
I will announce the publish date and title whenever it happens and I have been clean now for three years. It is possible.
But it is never easy. It's a lifelong journey, I will always be an addict, but I must stay one step ahead of myself and protect all that can be ruined in the eternal struggle to be
at ease once again, comfortable in this skin.
Thank you for being a part of my story.

Saturday, January 22, 2005


Sorry for my unexplained absence !
I don't actually think anyone noticed/cared/overdosed whilst I was gone so I will slip back into class, reeking of cigarettes with a hickey on my neck and a smug look on my face.

Alas, nothing that rebellious has happened.
I'm a terrible mudda to you all *hug* I haven't been well. Treatment may be stopping. I have had more health complications this week and have ceased treatment (again) This has meant I have had my futon couch surgically attached to my ass. I 've not been outside of it's quilty embrace for more than a 2 min toilet break and to find the remote (which is normally under my ass even though I always say I checked there?)

Maybe watching my new cable channel package whilst overdosing on after dinner mints has something to do with my lack of blogging.
I'm having a torrid affair with my cable connection. I thought it was over when I realised the Movie channel was really as lame as I thought before I never paid twenty dollars on it. As a treat to myself , I upgraded my package so not all the "cool" channels are grey fuzz anymore. I can actually see what people are saying rather than pretend it's Radio Oprah or Guess what movie is playing that your tight-ass will never let you watch!!.

Yes, I'm a strange one. Sex and The City Episodes on every hour on the hour, my new cable channel is a housewife's wet dream. Oprah on demand as well as DR Phil and of course SATC and all those lame shows I cannot admit to watching as my celeb status is yet to rise. It also came with MTV, so I have been "hittin up with yo stylin , bring it to yo cribs and pimpin rides with the blingety bling hoes" of course in Australia no one talks like this. If you did, you would get your head caved in with a very blunt spoon. Although, us "aussies" also have ways of talking so that you have no fucking clue what I am actually trying to say. Case in point ;

Shazza, Aww me bonza sheila ! Be a top missus get your spunky hubbie a coldie from the esky, then pop on your thongs and put some snags on the barbie

Translation for humans outside my homeland

"Sharon, my beautiful lady! Darling wife could you pass your attractive husband a beer from the portable fridge? You might want to wear flip-flops whilst cooking sausages on the barbeque.
Let's do the reverse - I will attempt to try and write like my overseas friends.

Awesome! I am freaking out how amazing this vacation is going to be ! This spring break my buddies from college are going on a SUV road trip, if we pass any hot and dreamy guys we are so totally to wiggle our fannies ;) Neat Booty!
[This conversation may be entirely made-up as I actually do not really have real life friends per se - but I know a lot of "awesome bloggers" that say that I'm cool. Suck it.]

So this is what the same sentence could mean if I was not privy to MTV and blogging.

THIS IS THE MOST COOLEST THING EVER - I am so totally frightened right now about how out of this world this family holiday is going to be. When Spring finishes, my msn contacts from the private girls school are going on a emergency (it sounds medical to me) trip only on the roads. If we pass any hot and dazed and confused men we are 100% going to wriggle our vaginas at them. Organized baby shoe !

This is how I would say this

Yay !Around the September holidays, my mates from uni are gonna head up the coast for some four wheel driving. Should be stacks of fun !If we perve on any hot fellas , I'll be sure to wiggle my ass. Fucking awesome ass, I reckon.

Plus, we both graded/recieved our yellow belts with a green tip ( which is actually just a piece of green tape I can stick on the end - oh the joy) At one point I was sparring with a hot hunky black belt (after two and a half hours of intense training that nearly made me cry) and I started to dry gag. Apart from being mildly disgusted by my face that was red and mottled from wretching, he excused me to sit down for a few heaven sent minutes outside. I wanted to give up so badly. Even BF was mouthing at me to "Sit Down" which was even more appealing for me "Quittus Regularitis".

In addition, the doctors HAD told me that I may have to cut back on the cardio-vascular stuff until my blood is more 'oxygen friendly'. Indulge me if you would be so kind as I try and illustrate (poorly and with a litany of spelling errors).
Seeing I just watched "Too Fast and Furious" on cable (see what I mean about movie channels) If we said our bodies were like cars as I put my respiratory system next to yours - Yours is the Ferrari and Mine is the equivalent of the fat guy falling off the moped half way up a speed bump. Yes, this girl aint what she used to be. As I type this, everything hurts right now. I went outside a had a spew (awesome) and then got back into training but BF is the real hero - he has heatstroke and properly will die sleeping tonight. He is asleep now, he looks so sweet like a little angel that is middle aged and has big bags and a lot of snoring is going on. (no farting though - still no response from Down Under)

If Bf was to pass in his sleep. A girlfriend should know what to do if this happens. Imediately wig out. Cry for ten thousand years and make every song "This is his song". Do all the respectful things. Then "maybe" hack into his msn messenger and find all those hoe's he's hiding. I got a feeling that "hotpinkpantiesonyourbed" is not all about Age Of Empires and playing battleship.

Then I would go and use his expensive razors to shave my moot and I would probably throw around a few of the Big Three. (Piss, Cunt and the "firestarter' You Fuckin Moron)
Just kidding. I would be very sad and lonely and all that jazz. I'm just trying to be funny and in doing so have probably just earned myself a "Dear John" letter, which would normally end with, "Don't blog this letter either, I'd like it private if you didn't mind." We all know what I would do in this situation.
Report the facts darling. I'm a blogger not a gossip!
Moving on from death ( that shows how sleep deprived I am) and back to me, thanks.

All up, after three and a half ( Oh the pain) solid hours of gruelling fighting and running and piggybacking and doing loads of crap that makes everyone sweat blood and bone - I think I passed. I know I was pretty puffed in parts but we shall see. I know I did my best and I didn't quit *so does the Finger to all the quitters - I so rule right now*

Mind you, tomorrow I will have forgotten about my love of fitness and I will resume pestering TIVO to invest in Australia and I *may* not turn up to another four interviews and appointments. The motto is simple kids - If you're just crap at something, just call it. In fact you should really give up and save the agony of other people. It's hard work making you a baked dinner to convince you how really tried at "insert latest fad" but for some reason "mention some airy fairy shit to say here other than you are the laziest son of bitch in the free world" it's just not your time."
For instance, this week I have heard this exact speech from BF when I finally accepted a few "home truths". Ok, so I'm not really ever going to become as skilled ( I think I said better actually) at cooking like Jamie Oliver, I probably would not win Survivor ( what about my hair straightener and what about chocolate !) and I probably left it a little bit late to be Julia McMahon's latest date or even a plastic surgeon. Even though, I do watch all the gory bits in Nip & Tuck and I do think its just like sewing a really raw chicken, I think I might need that thing they call "rich parents and fuckloads of miracles".
Maybe if I was eighteen. I think famous writer can delude me for a few more years yet ;)

BF let me down gently. Even though, I secretly is worried about the price of fame in the relationship. Just look at Jen and Brad or the entire mob of Spice Girls (probably a better quasi comparison). My blog is more famous than them. Oooh.

In my quest to be totally awesome, I'm currently reading Branson's book and yes - I think I would make a fabulous air hostess.
I don't think I am a mogul, it sounds too canine don't you think. Although, I do think Branson is hot - why o why do I love old men. Don't tell anyone.
Especially my Dad's perverted friends from the local pub (Big Red is his name)
Air Hostess. Sigh. Those uniforms are so 'chanel style on a superficial budget" I used to work with many of the Virgin FemBots as worked close to the headquarters - very nice girls that have white teeth, big boobs, buns and sensible shoes.( I only perved from behind.) Unlike men, we do not spend years mastering the "glimpse" of the forbidden white triangle. Don't act all fucking innocent either - the jig is up fellas.

Plus the GIANT red jacket is normally a good clue, that you are behind a FemBot in the lunch line.
Plus they also travel in packs and wear fuckloads of make-up and most have names starting with an S. I think this is a secret plan for Branson to populate the world with attractive fembots that all hate Donald Trump.

Of course, I just keep all this stuff to myself (hey being in a mental home is so 1994)
I normally just cry into my coffee and soggy toast thinking about my own appearance.
I become bitter that although my toothpaste promised "instant" whiteness so many moons ago, my smile is bordering on werewolf or that man at the end of Thriller.

I brush about seven times a day (shutup) so they are not so yellow anymore - just lemony - ewww.
I think that is a great cue to leave and brush my teeth for bed. I'm going to see the dentist about doing something like they do on "Makeover Somethin-Somethin" not veneers - that's only after the book deal. *Mooo Ha Ha Aww Haa Haa * [very werewolf if you ask me] HG

Who is this man - what does my name mean on your site it's in the link bar at the side. Thank you strange visitor - I would say thank you for the link but you probably don't know what the hell I am saying. Maybe you do though - so thank you.

The money is still there and I am just waiting to see if Greg from Cal is donating the prize. Then, we will spend the Paypal on extras for the site. Tag Board, Photo-Album and some nice new sections on Heroinegirl. Thank you to the three gorgeous beings that donated - I am truly grateful and you will see the results very soon. I just need to figure out what I am doing about Heroinegirl - The Brand. As we all know , it's going to be big. That's what I tell myself all the time and I just received a lovely offer from a prominent LA agency in my inbox, which is nice to know that I'm creating some buzz.

Exciting times ahead and we will go together.

From the gutter to the stars,

1 comment:

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