I Spy...

... a VAGINA

Spotted: Dirtbag leaving her bathroom with a digital camera hidden in the sleave of her jumper

atlast, i am finally a teenager!!!! tonight i went where so many teenagers have gone before, actually where everyone who doesn't live in a 3rd world country has gone before, but on returning from the bathroom this fateful evening i embarked on a new era. I have infact spent the past half hour infront of the mirror flashing my flesh for flicks internet worthy (alliteration eat your heart out!)

alas! i present for you, the new and improved , ready to be accepted into the hearts of all 11-17 year olds (and by that i mean their top friends) SLUZZAAAA form of Dirtbag!!!!!!




those are of my armpit actually so you can close the Nrop file which you opened.
But, with these images a different kind of window was opened, the addition of these to BlogBear's own pornographic library, instalment 2 and the continuation of The Vaginal Quest.

We will stop at nothing when uncovering the cunt in all which life has to offer.
No dress will be left un-upskirted, no aboriginal inspried school unifrom left without the approporiate sexual connotations, no Bird of Paradise not de-flowered, no eye not to be roated 90 degrees then looked at through an abstract *eye* and definately no underarm with a rash unexposed.

Love at first click

This is a good example of the caliber of men I attract via cyberspace.
This man is pleasing to my senses.

Look but don't touch: http://www.myspace.com/447450132

Gimme Sympathy

Well what do we have here? A bitch and a slut. In other words, a guestblogger in all her glory.

And so rolls around another Friday night- the night of nights that I hold out for all week. The night with which I share a dysfunctional love-hate relationship. OH FRIDAY, why do you tease me so? All week you linger. Playing hard to get. And when I finally have you all my desires flee…because it’s then and then only that I realise you are nothing but impostor for a good time. You symbolise freedom, excitement, rebellion and calamity, yet when I catch you all I feel is bitter disappointment. HEY EVERYONE, FRIDAY’S A PHONEY. If you were everything you’re meant to be you wouldn’t let me be home watching Masterchef with my mother- you’d be leading me astray. And what’s more is you humiliate me- how many times more am I going to have to convince the young lady (brothers girlfriend) in the gladiators that I’m not housebound for the fourth weekend in a row? How will my lies and translucent excuses continue to suffice with her? I’m losing the sociality game to the girl with the inexhaustible wet-look leggings and the plentiful but unexplainably diminishing supply of chewing gum in her bag. Yes…why is it that every time she turns around from an unnecessary hand holding session that her Wrigley’s tabs have decreased by 3? And why is it that little X’s breath is always so pepperminty fresh? Don’t ask me, I’m just a girl.

The sad reality is that everyone’s out and about but me right now. Even if there was a party at mine, right here, right now, I’d be crying…because it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to. Most probably out of embarrassment of all the people around drinking fine, warm and smuggled beverages such as Fruity Lexia and Coolabah from luminous metallic pillows. For those who prefer a more discrete approach- it would be a week old Mt Franklin bottle that’s label is faded and torn and has so many dents from the battering its undergone in a communal bag shared by the cheap drinks of other budding and secretive alcoholics. We all sure do think we’re so clever disguising our poison in spring water bottles. Only when half our consciousness, hand-eye coordination and dignity has walked out the door do we realise that maybe our under aged drinking was more obvious than intended. Good thinking you stupid juvies- given the yellow colouring of your drink everyone at the party knows your either suckling like a corrupted baby on your own urine or 9 dollar goon and no-ones sure which one is actually worse. Either way you make the older years whom you learnt the tricks of the trade from ashamed of you and that’s why after a while you stop caring and instead embrace your tackiness and mark the next Privilege White Party in your school diary.

I like to think my friends and I can rise above this- but our higher standards result almost frequently in the night I’ve been dealt tonight. The mind-numbingly bored, sit-at-home card. I guess all that I can do to avoid it next time is reconnect with my vulgar inner self and pay up my $30 to Eclipse just to prove to the young lady in the gladiators that I’m back on the town.

Hell yeah! I’m going to mix my wine with my juice and I’m going to like it!

Until we meet again,

The unnamed female protagonist.

Xo

Today is gonna be the day

we welcomed epdizzle, eps, eloise, eloeasy, elosleazy, elo, weasel, poolay, dizz, dizzy back into our lives from england in the brightest and weirdest mood.

e: i'm going to find my very own chris peeters

person x: who's that?

e: my uncle

WARNING: lack of sleep will result in an open mind towards incest.

p.s. kids could look like this (i don't even mean when they grow up, it'll come out the vag looking like that):

Gretel says..

..what the rest of us are thinking

Whilst camping circa 2009
Gretel: Sometimes I wish I was a dog.

Person X: Why?

Gretel: So I could be put on a lead, eat from a bowl without my hands and have someone pick up my shit.

Our Canteen Ladies Listen to Joy Division, How 'Bout Yours?

These are the items which seemed to accumulate in my pocket of my school skirt over this week

• key card
• matches
• ipod
• phone
• big red
• 2 uniform passes
• 3 late slips
• money
• plastic spoon
• condom
• Ernie and Bert badge
• knife
• 4 bus tickets
• pop rocks
• 3 test tubes

They now lay scattered on my bed and i cannot see how they all managed to fit. Well i guess not too well since my knife to cut itself an escape route during assembly without my noticing. On the way to my next class i delved into my marry poppins pocket of goodies ready to pull my knife on an unsuspecting bystander only to find it not there. What the fuck. i then hear that it'd been found on the floor and a teacher in a red jacket had taken it.
this followed:

Person X: Hey how about that woman, she's in pink
Dirtbag: Yeh but who is she?
Person X: Fucked if i know, try her

...

Dirtbag: Hey, you've got my knife
Teacher X: Oh oh okay. That was your knife?
Dirtbag: Yeh, can i have it?
Teacher X: Well it's in my office at the moment, you see i wasn't sure what to do with it. Umm, why, hmm, why do you even have a knife?
Dirtbag: Okay well just leave it at student services and i'll get it later. Can you do that? Okay, seeyou.

Also this week i happened to flash the inside of my pocket to one of our canteen ladies. Oh yes, how becoming of me to whip out a condom over pikelets and milk. She did laugh though and above the back drop of the ladies' choice Love Will Tear Us Apart.

Clearly i know how to work my magic fingers into the hearts of adults. Take me home to your parents, i dare ya ;)

See You Next Tuesday

I am about to embark on a new journey that I will call the Vaginal Quest. This is the first installment. I want to perfect the art of drawing vaginas, finding vaginal references in everyday life and bring new meaning to God's gift to our world. The Pha-gina, the cunt, the most holy of all holes.

Who knows, this might end up being my calling. For those who have seen Superbad, I will attempt to become the female version of this:

Who else but Blogbear?

P.S. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GlTloqb0ho

Au Reviour Enemy

BlogBear here.

A couple semi-interesting you are such a cunt you should fuck off and die you dirty slag don't you hate it when people read your computer screen. Actually I have a feeling someones reading this right now. Cuntcuntcunt. Ok, sorry about that. My sister was reading over my shoulder. We just had a good laugh.

Back to my story, some things that happened today: I had a dentist appointment, I went to the Supreme Court and my sister is a cunt. I actually love dentists I think the pain they inflict is the good kind of pain. I like that visiting dentists make you feel incredibley lazy. Reasons as to why:
1) You're in a comfy chair that is slowly lowered as if you couldn't lie down yourself.
2) You get sunglasses to block out the harsh light.
3) Someone else has to spend the next half an hour cleaning each and everyone of your teeth.
4) You are turned into a baby the second they put that bib on you.
5) When you thought it couldn't get lazier, theres someone there with a miniture vaccum so you don't even have to swallow your own saliva.
6)You get to look up your dentists' nose...

People make out like dentists look like this:

I mean would you rather that or edward penishands coming at ya. Ok, my dentist needs to learn about professionalism (Dirtbag can go into detail about this). Firstly, she had me waiting in the chair for half an hour as she gossiped with her friend. What's way more worrying is when she took two phone calls whilst jabbing around in my mouth. She bored me with subjects such as finding true love and oh my house is so messy. You can't even politely divert her because a) your mouth is open with various instruments in it b) she has sharp tools in her hand. There were many times when she would poke that hook-like thing at me without even looking.

After that I headed to the Supreme Court where I had mock trials which is a watered down version of what happens in court for us teenagers. As I sat down reading over my notes I sensed someone coming up behind me, I kept reading until I felt someones hand on my back. Actually it wasn't just a hand on my back, it had a good grip on my back. It was this old security guard guy who was all "oh my you already look like a lawyer". He's either really friendly or sleazy. Take your pick.

Since I've spent a good amount of time ranting I would like to conclude by saying I love walking through the CBD when everyones heading home. I don't even care that no one bothers to make eye contact, be friendly or slow down. I also have a thing for old men in suits, I think they win at life every time they put their suits on.

P.S. Try walking up to someone and say "pussy" repetitively without smiling or laughing. I dare ya.

Fellatio is Fun

I do not promise a flow of ideas in this post but rather some mediocre thoughts and facts. 

There is something undeniably fun about taking photos of things and places where it is prohibited. The art gallery can suck our cocks. Saturday was spent with LiquorLand; the best days are always the ones you least expect to be. 

I found out about a month ago that I gave my mum hemorrhoids when she was pregnant with me so not only did I give her the gift of life but I gave her "'Cushions of tissue filled with blood vessels at the junction of the rectum and the anus."

So we're currently learning about romanticism in lit. and today I got all depressed because he kept blabbering on about how we were all conformists and corrupted by society not by nature. Then he made a list of things that would be considered romantic such as:

• wagging school
• going down to the beach and taking drugs
• getting pissed at the country side

In other news we have to write a metaphysical poem by tomorrow and failure is inevitable since it seems to be a common factor in my life as of  '09. So far I've got a man who climbs a mountain symbolic for a woman he will "conquer". Ah yes, writers block I'll suck your cock..

P.S. Treat yourself by googling hemorrhoids. You will either clench your butt or cross your legs. You know you want to.

What's Love Got To Do With It?

Ok, so for those that don't know, I enjoy using MySpace for my pursuit of a soul mate.

The following is so you get a good idea as to where I'm coming from:

"I am in a pretty lonely place. No one will have sex with me. I'm so close to the end, and all I want is to get laid for the last time. I have pornographic movies in my apartment, and lubricants, and amyl nitrite... "

"to be so chronically untouched that the accidental brush of a bus conductor's hand sends a jolt of longing straight to your groin." (The fatal attraction of a bus driver deserves its own post.)

Tonight I had a new man on my page. What people don't understand is I'm not just after meaningless animal sex (I have 39 years of expierience) I'm after everlasting love and this will only be found through MySpace. I often get friend requests from middle aged men telling me about their divorce and how they would love to embark on a "friendship". I want more than their "friendship".

I was going to chat him up until I was shown this 33 year old who photo commented on my chocolate friend:
"WOW that chocolate skin looks good enough to eat!!!! Can I be your chocolatier???"

I clicked onto this "steff" to scope out my competition. I knew I had stood no chance once I discovered she was bisexual, smoked weed everyday and had intimidating breasts. On a more important note he had listed Celine Dion in his favourite music; obviously untrustworthy.

Are you skeptical? See for yourself
Pimp: www.myspace.com/bboy4th
Homewrecker: www.myspace.com/123238593

Please be kind. I'm a lover not a fighter (L)(K)

P.S. I am dishonest and a compulsive liar.

Scorned Lover

Exams are gonna get ya. You probably think they've hit, you're in them maybe? Well their wrath extends way past the tick over of a hand, the drop of a pen and a hit of the drink on the Thursday afternoon of your last exam.

Let’s just say 28.5% is a mighty measly way to repay someone.

And so, do not waste your mother fucking time studying. We warn you against this method, no we URGE you against it. Turn around and go back into the dark ages of year 8 (yr 8? who are we kidding) go back to your petty efforts of every previous year of your schooling because not trying is cool. It is skill to start an assignment the night that it is due and then have the luxury of handing it late by means of sickarse lies. Do it. succumb to the ever enticing habits which have kept you lazy all this time cause it's not worth changing now and it's definitely not worth being whipped by exams (and don't doubt me, exams will have you whipped).

You cannot love a test paper. Whatever affection you may feel post exam is only your warped sense of reality trying to give you a scrap of satisfaction. You would not have succeeded; you have no need to be proud and no fucking need for further study.

Please believe me. In my exam which I thought I’d done best in and had rather enjoyed doing I got 28.5%. I ask you, what kind of fuckery is this?

Gretel says..

..what the rest of us are thinking:


Innocent children playing circa 2003
Gretel: Ew, I have sperm in my mouth.
Person X: Sperm... Do you mean phlegm?

This section is dedicated to my oldest friend; her main objective in life is to marry rich, make babies and be the greatest stay at home wife just as God and the 21st century intended.
Evidence of Gretel being the world's greatest teen mummy: