At the rosy age of four years old, Arielle would begin a torrid affair with a deformed tortoise named Michelangelo. This unlikely union lasted all the way to her fifth birthday party, where a parent, mistaking the tortoise for the hired entertainment, offered him a wad of cash. The tortoise, believing it to be hush money, accepted and quietly made his exit, never to be heard from again. He had debts no honest man could pay. Arielle, stricken with grief and confusion, vowed revenge. Petshop sales of tortoises skyrocketed in the aftermath, though what became of the creatures since, noone knows.
Tried to remind myself to get Herbal Essences, which was autocorrected to “her ale absences”. Does my phone know I didn’t drink tonight?
I ran over my first cane toad late on Tuesday night. I know, it must seem kind of belated - I’ve been here for 14 months, how is this the first? It was the first with me behind the wheel. I occasionally see them hopping around downtown, I’ve spotted a couple of corpses in the park and Jack and I bonded one moonlit night over squashing together the Grand High Witch of toads, but this was all me. I was driving Traycy the Ute, which makes me feel powerful, when I spotted him sitting on the road and I knew it was my chance. I lined him up and drove right over him, feeling the bump beneath my tire. He didn’t know what hit him.
Then, because I wanted to inspect my handiwork, I backed up and jumped out of the car to have a squiz. It was about 11pm and I hoped the neighbors weren’t watching me, lit up in the headlights of the car, squatting down to inspect my very own roadkill. He looked okay - they’re hardy little fucks. I couldn’t really tell if he was dead or not, so I drove over him again, this time hearing a definite crunch ‘n’ bump.
I don’t generally think of myself as a bloodthirsty person: I like animals and I feel sick at the thought of even going fishing. But cane toads are something else. They’re continuing their westward expansion relentlessly and I feel we owe it to the country to crush as many as we can. The government here defunded Frog Watch so now it’s up to Territorians to play their part. I have an NT drivers license now so I figure that makes me licensed to kill.
The next day, the toad’s body was gone. Did something eat it? I’ll never know.
I had a dream last night where I was high in a skyscraper overlooking the Thames and a girl I haven’t seen since high school called Hye-Suk Choi sat at a table opposite me. Before we knew it the building was falling sidewards into the sea and we crashed through the water, all screaming ‘no no no’. Hye-Suk and I tried to hold hands but we couldn’t grasp hold. I realised we were all going to die, and tried to lock eyes with someone for a final connection, a sign that life was good for a while, but no-one was looking, and we all died, alone and confused in a skyscraper in the sea.
I think it’s because I had an ice-cream before I went to bed.
I’m only good with 90s breakup songs that make me weep. Sometimes you just need a weep trigger so you can let it all out. Here are some classics:
- Never Ever by All Saints
- Foolish Games by Jewel
- Not Pretty Enough by Casey Chambers
- Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley
- Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus
- Unbreak My Heart by Toni Braxton
- I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston
- End of the Road by Boyz II Men
- Slide by Goo Goo Dolls
- Want You Back by Take That
- Torn by Natalie Imbruglia
- All of Alanis.
This hasn’t been a very helpful list but you’ll feel pretty good once you’ve cried it all out.
Some more iffy lyrics (and revised titles)…
If you wanna be my lover/You gotta get with my friends
- Spice Girls || Actual title should be “An ode to gang bangs”
Close to me you’re like my mother/Close to me you’re like my father/Close to me you’re like my sister/Close to me you’re like my brother
- K-Ci & Jo Jo || Actual title should be “Wham bam thank you fam”
Step back you’re dancing kinda close/I feel a little poke coming through on you
- Next (also covered by Blue in 2001) || Actual title should be “The dance floor boner song”
Yep… some strange lessons to learn (or hopefully un-learn) from some of our favorite tunes of yesteryear.
(ps Arielle I’m working on a Halloween mixtape at the moment - I’ll share it when it’s perfected!)
Alyssa, amazing ideas. I am so glad to hear they have been tried and tested. I hate it when people try to be easy going over breakups and act as though life can go on as normal. I think getting as weird as humanly possible and then reflecting on that weirdness makes you realise you’re actually alright and not as crazy as your actions or thoughts and somehow that makes you feel better. Over here, my housemate and I have also been divining relationship lessons from early 2000s pop songs. These are the two that stand out…
1. Give me your heart
2. Make It real
3. Or else forget about it
- Santana & Rob Thomas
Can you share some more? I miss your mix tapes!
I really enjoyed that last post.
So here are few more expressions of tortured/scorned love to share.
Please note, all of these have happened in real life (so they’ve been road tested!)…
aaand I also may or may not have already done some of these.. or have had these done by/to someone I know…orrr I may have had this happen to me. So we’re going beyond hypotheticals into full-fledged demented here.
* If you find yourself on the road a lot, write your ex’s name and number in every toilet stall out of town. Leave a heart-felt message next to it that you can ask your fellow stall-users to pass on. (I’d think a simple rendition of Sting’s I’ll be watching you would say enough)
* If you were ever given/took something precious of your ex’s as a keepsake (let’s say a favorite t-shirt or personal diary)… mail pieces of it back to the ex each birthday
* Here’s a slight variation of that hair-filled-envelope: Perhaps you had a feature that your ex hated (or liked - depending on the message you’re sending)… Without doing a Van Gough and getting too gory, mail that feature to your ex. Maybe your ex liked your fingernails when they were painted red? (Send dem crimson nail-clippings!) OR (here’s a specific and real example) maybe said ex hated your rat’s tail? Just hack it off and send that. No words necessary.
(That’s all I have at the moment!)
If all else fails and you feel like your gentle prodding isn’t effective enough, just punch the sodder in the face. Direct and straight to the point.
A breakup I came out of a little while ago ran me through the mill a bit.
However it got me thinking on what old mate Clare and I used to hypothesise about - the creepiest things you could do to either exact revenge or even simply create a general unease in a person who has broken your heart.
So. Here is a list of the most disturbing ideas I’ve come up with so far. I think it would make a wonderful book. Enough quasi-philosophising, more artistic revenge I say.
Your thoughts and fresh ideas would, as ever, be greatly appreciated..
* Brick through their window with a note ‘thinking of you’ taped to it (see above).
* Tattoo of their face on your arm with #foreveralone written underneath it. The photorealistic portrait should have all teeth drawn in and the pupils of their eyes blackened slightly too much. Take a photo and allow it to circulate widely on the internet.
* Paper mache effigies of past lover at life-size scale positioned outside their place of residence and burned down in the middle of the night. Make sure to knock on their door first so they can see their effigy before it becomes charred. Wear a balaclava if you want your identity kept a secret.
* An anonymous, hand delivered letter filled with a collection of their hairs you’ve found as you clean post-breakup. Or as Clare suggested, maybe first send a photo of the hairs, then you can make demands.
* Chalk crime scene body outlines of your bodies holding hands on the street outside their work, with RIP scrawled under it. If you feel it’s still a little too abstract you may include your names too. Be careful this isn’t interpreted as a death threat though. Let’s keep it PG people.
* Glitter bombing. Always and forever, glitter bombing. That shit just does not go away. A glittering reminder of your love to linger on.
I think I’ll stay anonymous for this sign off as it’s obviously a more than slightly demented post, but I do think it has potential.
Peace and love dreamers x
Nikki’s pictures are beautiful. Take me to New York…
Beware of young girls