WARNING: earplugs required

oh hellllp me.

my sister's friend has come over to help her bake shortbread as low-cost Christmas presents, and just now she's been goshing over the VCE results published in the newspaper. . .

by goshing, i'm referring to that very teenie-bopperish phenomenon of gushing hyper-enthusiastically over the most minute little thing by espousing endless repetitions of "oh my GOSH!" punctuated only by disappointingly-brief nano-seconds of silent breath intake followed by more goshing.

so basically, this girl (who isn't too bad usually, she's actually quite nice, for lack of a better, less vanilla-flavoured word), sat in our hitherto-tranquil dining room, scrolled through that whole section of newspaper and subjected me and my sis (though she appeared decidedly unbothered) to at least 15 minutes of this, this- squealing, everytime she saw one of her friends' scores. Thankfully, she's left now. I'm sorry, this is harsh, as I'm kinda friends with her too, but it's the (hyperbolically embellished) truth.

she's so obsessed she's just asked to take the newspaper home with her.

OH MY GOSH.

Women Are Like Apples on trees.

(thanks sand poo. . . this is just too funny it's going straight onto my Friendster)

The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt.

Instead, they just get the rotten apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy......

So the apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing.

They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who's brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

As for men... Men are like a fine wine. They start out as grapes, and it's up to women to stomp the crap out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.