Crash.

I think that I have oh-so much to say till I see the blank screen before me and my addled mind ups and wanders off to drink tequila lay backs,start fights in the carpark and light its farts before passing out leaning on a dumpster in the back alley.

I got a message from an old friend who is bumming around Europe and I get to wondering just how my life has come to such an epic standstill on the world wide wandering front and if it really matters. He was a touch spiteful to me when I was happy in LA being that he was not happy where he was at the time. Told me that I couldn’t  just hang out forever. Now he is doing the same thing.

People really do shit me.

I wonder if and when any of my writing will come to light as my site is down at the moment. I have some very strange and I mean this in the nicest way possible and dedicated readers who jumped to inform me of this fact muy pronto. A  gold star and a monkey stamp to you my little homicidal infidels! Bless you. I am trying to get a hold of my ninja tech-head ex-roommate who now dwells up north in a basement apartment with her wife and cats but to no avail. In the meanwhile I will stay locked in my room and talk to myself yet again.

Talk myself through it all and down from the bell tower.

Apparently, I am now a spa in Argentina according to the browser. How quaint. Hope that she can work it out ,what ever these glitches are have befallen me. Meanwhile I will just keep writing because then when it is all reinstated it  will look like I am far more prolific than I really am.

Kudos to moi.

I seem to have forgotten all my songs in the month off playing shows that I have had. Not a good sign.But do you see me picking up my guitar and trying to work it out ? Noooo. But if you had of been looking in my kitchen window today you would have seen me sneezing all over my roommates meat pies and putting them back in the freezer.

The detritus of my life is slowly creeping up the sides of my beloved oasis of a bed again. Action must be taken.I am absolutely dreading this weekend. Tom “The hook”,one of the DJ’s at the club ( so named due to the fact that his hands are both hooks and no I am not making this up,come to the club and I will introduce you to him.) informed me,a little too gleefully I thought, that this weeks theme is,wait for it, a “Tradie rave”. As in tradesmen.As in the fluorescent clad,drunk driving moron that I have the utter misfortune to live next door to.

God hates me.

I clutched his cold curved steel extremities in my fat bejeweled pink hands and locked eyes with him wailing “Noooooo!” .He was shocked at my reaction and I then commenced babbling about how I have to live in the same house as one of them and that his over-all grossness and stupidity are zapping my admittedly dwindling will to live.

He asked me to get a cigarette out of his pocket for him and as I lit it he told me that I would live.

Live! Ha! I have to deal with a florescent tidal wave of mediocrity crashing through my door on Saturday night and I will live???

Bah!

Like Steve Harley and The Cockney Rebel crooned “Its just test ,a game for us to play”.

Admit it,you are sitting there going “Ohhh-ohhh,la,la,la” right now aren’t you? Its cool ,so am I. If you tamper with stringed instruments I highly recommend belting this one out at top volume.The chords are F-C-G in the verse and Dm-F-C-G in the chorus.

Your welcome.

I just love me a well placed Dm. Ohhh! A Dm7 even more so…..

It will be ok. It has to be or I will open fire on the fairway at the next Easter show.I got to hang with half of the fox-core tonight which always lifts my battered spirits and Miss Nina has got me into fasting so I am full of pious self regard and bocoo soda water. Trying to ride out my insomnia and looking forward to seeing Goatwhore next week.Get my doom on and whatnot. I went mental before and cleaned up my room so its all good,I actually found the floor. It was the pay off for spending the last of my money on a white leather fringed handbag.

And having the brown and black versions on lay-away.

What?!

I  may be fat and fuckless,granted, but there is a lot to be said for nifty accessorizing. These bags are a cross between Daisy Duke,Cher and The Sunset strip in ’89. As my long suffering and absolute saint of a mother is fond of reminding me,I have a rather major problem differentiating between “Want” and “Need”.

What-the-fuck-ever.

Listen up fact fiends ,I am a zaftig homicidal loner who is about an teeny-tiny inch off going completely and irretrievably postal and I plan on sporting a fabulous purse when the shit goes down. Dig?

Oh how I long for a home where I can line up all my beautiful shoes in a jewel like row.A wall of handbags.Racks of my amazing clothes. Meanwhile,back on Planet Shit, I reside with a meat eating life support system for a sofa and a big screen TV with an IQ of about eleven-teen.

Ok…good stuff Madden! Write about the good stuff you whinging harridan!.

I am on a cloud as I type being that I have made the top 10 finalists for Miss Inked 2013. Swoon. Get thee to my face book page and Vote! Vote! Vote! I want a crown! Pay back for being picked on at school! Queen of the underdogs arise!

Saw my big brother on stage tonight. Thank god I still have a big brother after what happened.He was amazing and my face hurts from smiling.

I wore my Indian head dress and forgot half my songs. All in all a joyous event.

Its a dirty job but someone has got to do it.

At your service and by your leave….