Curious

There are few things in life that annoy the absolute shit out of me, excuse my language.
* Bad driving (namely those over the age of 80)
* Slow driving (if there is an angry blonde on your tail in a small white car it could very well be me)
* Bad grammar, deliberate misspellings of words and excessive emoticon usage unless the emoticon is amusing in appearance.
* When the Coffee Club near work doesn't put the requested one sugar into my coffee
* Customers at work in general, particularly those after a 'brand' for less than $30, or those who ask if the products are real. No, no they're not. Would you believe it, the entire company is based on counterfeit stock, all 62 stores. And no consumer authority ever says anything. Amazing huh?
* Bert Newton
* Teenagers (particularly around the 17/18 mark)
* People (read: teenagers) who think having their photo taken by creepy photographers at various Sydney establishments means they are in fact de facto celebrities and therefore must pose in a knock-kneed, hip jutting fashion that makes them look like knobs. Perhaps even more annoying than this occurrence is the posting of said photos on various Myspaces and Facebooks with captions such as 'sexy bitch!' or 'munted!' beneath them.

So a long list, I suppose. Add to that list, one Samantha Brett. Now, I cannot lie, I have ranted about this woman before and I will continue to until people realise (and when I say people I mean more than the 5 people who I complain to on a daily basis who are all but forced to smooth my ruffled feathers by agreeing) the girls is the stupidest, most stale example of Australian journalism in existence. I cannot imagine she got her job through any other measure except stripping for her editor every night for a year because it simply is not possible she got it any other way. She can't write. She cannot come up with any idea that hasn't been dragged out time and time again in movies, television and bad literature (of which Sam herself is an author) and dealt with so thoroughly it has since ceased to be a social issue. I cannot say that today's effort is any worse than any of her previous ones and thus prompted this diatribe - it's just that having been absent from this fair country for the past 6 months I haven't been subject to her horsey mug leering at me from smh.com.au - and so upon seeing it today, my resentment came flooding back in a most uncontrollable fashion. Flicking back through the past few 'columns' which I am sure she wrote whilst wearing men's underwear and a vest and staring out her window a la the inimitable Carrie, it is plain to see Sam has not, as I had hoped, matured as a people watcher, nor improved as a writer. She remains mind bogglingly boring and so cunningly superficial you could almost think she actually researches her subjects. Almost.

I am both horrified and utterly baffled as to how Samantha Brett continues to build any sort of career.

On the topic of all things cyber, I am going to briefly touch on a current fascination of mine, and source of much curiosity - and that is Facebook applications. Now, I am not averse to the odd Facebook application - on my site you can give me a Christmas present, buy me a drink, see what countries I have visited, give me a flower, send me a gift, nominate me for a superlative, note I have manipulated a questionaire to get the result of being The Most Like Carrie Bradshaw, and learn I use the right side of my brain more than I do the left. It could be said I search for my soul within the quasi-reality confines of the Facebook world. And for this reason I must point out that a lot can be ascertained about someone by what applications they add to their facebook. What kind of lover are you, the daily bible verse (a personal fave), compliments (potentially a disaster if no one compliments you) what is your stripper name (only genuinely funny 2% of the time) ... all of these things you can do either point out a dire need to compensate for something, prove something or receive constant and most probably undue adulation - which in itself points to a rather fragile self esteem if Facebook love is its main compass.

All of that being said, please feel free to nominate me for a superlative. I am eyeing off Hottest Girl on Facebook.