Juji's Blog

Hi all, This week I'm looking for some tips from you. I've decided I'm in need of a little lovin' in my life - someone to adore me, love me, idolise me, shower me with pressies, listen to my problems, provide sensible solutions and fuck me silly whenever I want. The guys I've met lately are as boring as batshit. I wanna know where there's a smorgasbord of hot, warm-hearted, life-smart and stimulating guys - if such a thing exists.

Where you gals are meetin' your guys, and where are you hot, warm-hearted, life-smart, stimulating guys hangin' out?

If you happen to be in Melbourne, all the better. While this little bee will go out of her way to meet a sweet honey, don't know that she can buzz half way across the world at the mo. But, wherever you are on the planet, tell me where you met yours and I'll gravitate my pretty tail to similar places. Where's best?

Please don't tell me to get on with my life and the right thing'll happen at the right time. I already get on with my life. Please hurry before I'm forced to go wing it to the shopping centre, sit on Santa's lap and find out if there's anything interesting under that fluffy red suit.

Oh and BTW, no need to fill in your URL and all that if you don't want. If, like me, you're a bit of a technological retard, so be it. Some of us are simply better at the finer things in life - like lovin'. Juji x

What's with the men-cloning labels coming out of the US of late? We've seen Snags, the Meterosexual and now, wait for it, the Ubersexual. This bloke sounds either sterilised, impotent, dickless or like an alien from outer space, and who wants an alien for a boyfriend? Come to think of it, many of them already are. Women don't seem to be attracting labels - and that's 'cos it's the women doing the labelling. We're notorious for analysing a guy to within an inch of his life. "He said 'Um'. What do you think that means?" "He scratched his balls and coughed when I told him I love him. Does that mean he loves me? Or does he have an unnaturally close relationship with his mother? Or maybe he was wishing I was more like his long-lost girlfriend of 25 years ago. What do you think?" "My ex impregnated his new girlfriend and now they're living together in a jointly owned home. But he called me last week. Do you think we're really over?"

While it may seem I'm giving us gals a hard time, I do want to remind you blokes it's 'cos you're such poor communicators in the first place. And just for the record, the Ubersexual who's forcing Meterosexuals to put away their floral shirts and cuticle creams is attractive, dynamic, confident, masculine, stylish and committed to fine quality and excellence in all areas of his life. S'far as I'm concerned, he doens't exist. The chicks who invented him are living in fantasy land. Just in case though, if any of you Aussies know of any bars or clubs where such a rare creature may visit, please let me know. I'd have to go check him out...for research purposes of course.

Rumour has it we're soon going to be plagued with the Heteropolitan - a straight guy who tries to balance bar culture with exercise - what? Juggling beers in between star jumps? I ask you. Juji x

PS. If you insist on knowing more about the differences between the Meterosexual and the Ubersexual, check out the link. http://www.askmen.com/fashion/austin_100/145c_fashion_style.html

Tuesday: Started my day with my regular walk. Felt very pleased with blissful state of inner peace and balance. Had coffee with a stranger I'd met through a classified ad. At an outdoor cafe, the sun glared into my eyes blinding me. He stared into a larger-than-life cleavage of a half-naked woman on a billboard. Traffic flew by blowing my hair so it stuck to my lip gloss. A bird shat on my shoulder and splashed onto my Ray Bans. Karma shattered.

Thursday: Went to the beach for the day. Needed to pee so stopped at a sevice station. Sliding door to the loo was jammed so it only opened about a centimetre. Squeezed my long, metallic blue talons through the gap, curled them around the door and starting yanking at the door with all my might. I'm cursing, huffing and busting. Damm thing won't open. Yanked harder. I'll get this door open if my life depends on it. "There's someone in here", says the toilet. I rush out, the idea of meeting a guy in the washroom, whose privacy I'd just seriously invaded, was worse than death.

Saturday: Went nightclubbing to relieve the tensions of the week. Left my car in Fitzroy Street and went cruising with a seriously neurotic girlfriend who doesn't know how to drive, and takes hour long detours to avoid driving through the city. Many unconscious lane changes later, we return to my car and see something unusual lying behind it. My bumper bar. Of course. What else would it be? I check for witnesses with the greasy terrorist-type behind the counter in the souvlaki bar, who doesn't want to get involved 'cos the culprit is a well-known junkie in the area. Oh good! I throw my bumber in the car and haul my angry tail outta there.

Sunday: Washing machine flooded and soaked the carpet in surrounding rooms. Yanked the carpet up and stuck the fan heater under it. The bloomin' thermostat died and now the thing only blows cold air. Oh well, it'll be good for the summer. Fixed the washing machine. Was feeling very smug about that. Went for a drive and the car broke down. Impatient morons behind me tooted, blind to the fact my hazard lights were flashing. "I'd move if I bloody could", I screamed out the car. My bumberbar-less car got towed and I'm carless today.

I know chanllenges help us grow, but I've done enough growing for one week! Anyone else done some serious 'growing' over the week? Juji x

I was on the train the other day - feeling mortified! One woman was curling her eyelashes while another plucked stray hairs - from her chin! Whoa! While I'm all for beauty enhancers, I wish these women wouldn't practise them on the friggin' train. We don't need the world to see the before shot - the after shot'll do just as well thanks. It's basically sending out a message that says, "I look like an elephant's ass in my natural state, and have to go to all this effort to look half decent." The hair plucker was also making a definite statement about the fact that she has hairs on the wrong end of her head in the first place. If she weren't plucking, no one would've ever noticed. Women's beauty is all the more attractive if it's shrouded in mystery, and secret women's business should be just that - secret.

Seeing a woman touch up her lippy is fine - it's actually a bit cheeky and flirtatious. Applying full make-up in public is gross - especially given the unseemly facial contortions we tend to make while doing it. If we don't draw the line at some point, before you know it people'll be flossing their teeth and clipping their toenails at the bus stop. Dental goo and toenails have a tendency to fling, and I don't fancy being pinged in the eye by a spit-filled wad or a toe talon. Nor do I fancy one landing in my latte. Which reminds me, while I've seen the odd guy take a shave while driving, seeing a guy brush his teeth and take an almighty foam-filled spit out the window was pretty nasty. Yeah, I know we're all human, but while we might occasionally squeeze an ingrown hair from our nether regions, or have the odd scrape at the inside of a nostril, picking, plucking and preening should definitely be done in private.

What's the most embarrassing thing you've seen someone do it public? I'm wondering too whether Americans are more or less discreet that us Aussies? I hope so.