A Lesbian. Not Equal. Less.

Well, Just finished reading an email from my little Liam and it brought a tear to this Indian’s eye. I like to think Liam’s absence is what lead me to internet dating, at least it’s what I will claim in the next instalment of Josh and my autobiography, ‘Josh and Ainsley: Some Time Apart’. (Also in this series: ‘Ainsley and Josh: A Level Apart’ and ‘Josh and Ainsley: Torn Apart’) Without his masculine energy about, why, of course I need an outlet for all this pent up energy.

Speaking of masculine energy, not long ‘til Lauren is back. Josh and I have been discussing her return, over cigars and Brandy Alexanders and we fear that she will come back too cool for us. She was already the coolest out of our gang but, we feel this trip will be the clincher. The moment of truth where she meets up with us for a tofu shakes and saffron cakes, claims she’s going to the toilet and then never comes back. She will find cooler friends, perhaps with dreadlocks, or hybrid cars, and soon we will just be uncomfortable memories for her…like Josh’s copious AIDS scares… But we decided, you know, we can’t mope. There’s just no point because, she wont return to us. Despite our tears and Gossip Girl antics. So we thought ahead and have started holding auditions for her replacement. We went to a girls night, booked a couple of minutes of stage time and, in matching blue tutus and tiaras (blue for manliness, the lesbians like that) and said: “Hi, although we need no introduction, allow us to introduce ourselves, I’m Josh, and I’m Ainsley and as we’ve already Twittered, we’re holding auditions cos we need a new les for our group which is currently in recess. The les’s role is to add some, as the blacks would say ‘flay-va’ to our group, to make us seem less cliquey and more how you say ‘of the people’. She has to take a lotta shit, we like dyke jokes (“huge fans”) and paying out the vulgarity that is the female anatomy. In our group one might describe the lesbians role as the lackey, a lower rung, not equal, less. So if any of yous are interested, there’s a sign up sheet in the bathrooms, and please, Dykes or ugly lesbians need not apply…”

Needless to say, the list was so full by the end of the night, and we’ve had a lot of interstate interest, as well as a few trannies from Indo-China, so we’re still organising audition slots. Heheh, slots… So it’s early days.

Laters xx

The Reviews Are In!:

After 2 months of blogging, we've finally been reviewed by the people who matter, here's what they said!:

The Sydney Morning Herald:

Josh and Ainsley have been on the Oxford St scene for a while, and I'm glad to say they're finally branching out to reach the rest of Australia. They use the blogging medium superbly, injecting their trademark humour into normal, everyday situations. Josh writes with a poetic beauty not seen since Dan Brown released The Da Vinci Code, and it's easy to get lost in what he's writing. In a normal Josh encounter it's often hard to get past his knockout good looks, so without that distraction it's wonderful to meet the man behind the beauty.
And Ainsley. Well, she writes. For a science student she's quite literate.

Margaret And David (at the movies)

David: 4 stars
Margaret: 4.5 stars

The Age:

This being a Melbourne newspaper, many were surprised when we announced we'd be reviewing a Sydney-based duo. As most people are aware, us Melbournians care about one thing: Ourselves. Which is why it is so easy to relate to these two. They are clearly unobservant in all aspects of life that don't concern them directly, leading many to think they actually hail from Victoria. They don't. Victoria is cool. Melbourne is better than Sydney. Melbourne rocks.
Who am I reviewing again? Oh right, Melbourne. 5 Stars.

DNA Magazine:

FAG! Ainsley and Josh are, like, totally cool. HOMOSEXUAL! They are good looking, and gay friendly. SEX! Never before have a Fag and his Hag been so accessible. GAY AGENDA! Josh is clearly a whore, which is perfectly suited for the readers of this magazine. PENIS! Ainsley is, quite frankly, a gay icon. HIV! If you haven't started reading these two, get on it, you won't be disappointed. QUEER!

Australian Catholic Weekly:

The deepest fires of hell are reserved solely for these two. They, and anyone who reads their homosexual propaganda will burn forever.

Hey, Dude, Where's My Penis?

So, Josh used his powerful good looks to move my Anatomy and Physiology exam to two weeks from now. I offered to repay him in sexual favours. He declined. It created a slight air of awkwardness, nothing more than we're used to seeing as I am desperately in love with that which cannot be mine...Young, Thin John Cusack.

Dear Mr. Cusack,
Why so Mick Molloy?

Yours sincerely,

Ainsley Reed

So I binged yesterday. I regretted it. Today I am surviving on a diet of protein shakes and food guilt that must rival that of the catholic variety. I can feel myself getting fatter. I pray I am blessed with an eating disorder soon...

Kim Basinger is a smoking hot babe. I think I look a little bit like her... and I'm probably the most humble person I know...

Mr. Finnigan did a poo that was all peas. It made me smile, which poos do not often do.

I vomited in my handbag on the train, not drunken vomit, sick vomit. A lip gloss lost its life, as did many a vicks vapordrop (butter menthol flavour not as good as regular butter menthols, which am i right, are the bomb?). Though I morn their loss, I find solace in the fact that my phone, wallet, keys and Glamour with Blake Lively on the cover managed to survive. Fast thinking on my part, not fast enough to save that strawberry Nivea though, god how it hurts, she was not long for this world, barely a month...sad face. Sad face indeed.

But i work through the pain. Yesterday, yes, it was a step back granted, but I'm only human.

Oh fuck! my test is this Monday! DAMN YOU JOSH! DAMN YOUR LOOKS!

Does My Penis Look Big In This?

Salutations Reader!

It is I A-Tang III alpha. I bring to you, the news of sexiness. Sexiness is everywhere. Sexiness is in this computer. I am sexiness.

Sydney is hot, cold, Arthur, Martha. I am jealous of all things purple. Green is ok but blue is better. Sexiness is best.

I’ve been so busy that I didn’t even realise I was on holidays this week. I may have to go on e a date this week. Simultaneously, I think I may have been blown off. Boys are a difficult creature.

I want chocolate. And wine.

I have a hot date with Josh on Thursday which I am, sickeningly excited for. I plan to inebriate him with chocolate liquors then. Penetration. Watch this space.

Does Josh Smell Like Apples?

Well, another week in the life of myself. It’s been eventful. Hang on, someone near me just farted and I have to cover my mouth…
And I’m back. So gee, I have started a new job that I’m loving. My self esteem is returning from perilously low to just low and the world is my proverbial oyster...
Seriously. Another fart? You think I can’t smell them you dick! Yeah I can dude. I can.
OK. So with this new lease of heightened-though-not-high self esteem and the aphrodisiacal effect of the life oysters, bitch has started internet dating. Consequently I find myself exchanging emails with a foetus, or as I like to call him, ‘Foetus’. An Ashton to my Demi. Which has left me to have a Carrie moment, ‘How young is too young (head tilt, eyes ponder, slow pan out the window)?’ I find myself thinking about possible 21st birthday themes for next year. This bothers me. This bothers me. This is too young.
With that cleared up I find release. Fart guy has also gone which is lucky as I breathe a collective sigh of relief. Obviously the realisation clears nothing up. I still have to email him. I still have a lot in common with him. I still will probably have to meet up with him at some point. But I am at peace with the fact that I am getting involved in something that will always bother me, no matter how much I try to block it out. Just like when I dated a short. Wah. Why do I have this condition? So far no response from my 26 year old, sigh. I think it’s because my opening sentence was ‘Thank you for the complement’. What a moron. Why don’t people over 24 like me? Why are people under 22 drawn to me like proverbial moths?
I just did a massive facebook cull. It feels good.
‘Excuse me Miss, this blog is bland.’
STOP FARTING ASSHOLE!
The other day a certain white building on Macquarie Street made me sad. I miss my listener. But am glad he is having a good time :) (Yup, a smiley face on our blog, Josh, bring it).
So I just told Josh he bored me. To see what reaction it would get me. He squealed like a girl. Blamed it on me. Tears. Tantrums. We puppy-sat at the weekend and let’s just say, we should never have kids. Jose did not like Ainsley. This made Ainsley mad. Mad enough to almost punch that mutt in the face. But I didn’t. Jose made me sad. I wondered why he didn’t like me. I wondered whether my aura tasted of metal. Sigh. End of the day I chalked it up to the fact that he is owned by lesbians and had been bought up in an environment that hated straight girls. That’s the only explanation that made sense. I mean, I’m amazing! Good looking, funny and the most humble person I know.
xx

CyberLove.html

Just when you thought you knew us, in typical Ainsley and Josh fashion we throw you a curve ball that smashes you in the face and makes you realise you don't know what we're capable of.

That's right, we've become internet daters.

I know what you're thinking: 'But Josh, that doesn't surprise us at all. You're a whore. You'll take it from anywhere..'.

And you'd be right.

But Ainsley. That one you didn't see coming. We both have far too much fun trawling through her RSVP* site, deleting the bad and drooling over the good. As a gay man, used to Gaydar** I find it strange and unfulfilling that there are no cock pictures, or at least mention of penis size. Surely this is why people inter-date? Love Shmove, people are after a good doing.

I've been on two dates so far (with the same guy! Crazy!) and eagerly await being able to stalk Ainsley and her date when it happens soon.

Lust is in the air in Spring-time Sydney, from us to the horny cats*** on my street. We will keep you posted..


*This blog is not sponsored by RSVP.
**Or Gaydar.
***It is sponsored by horny cats, though.

Run For Cover Mother Fuckers!

Ok, so the reason I have shied away from this god-forsaken blog is because i have trying to write something poetic and funny and have spent the last few weeks, two intimidated to soil it with my verbal faeces. But now I'm poo throwing like a baboon on heat.

So Josh and I finally saw each other the week before last and it was everything I imagined and more! Waitara didn't know who had grabbed her from behind and menacingly yanked up her skirt, but if I am asked my opinion (and this may not stand up in a court of law), I'd say she was gagging for it. That night she was impregnated with spirit...and a little semen...

So the night ended with a smashed glass and the ingestion of a $2 bottle of red (Yes I know, bargain much) but thankfully, the hangovers weren't as bad as 'The Mists of Ireland' fiasco, we even went to the MCA and ate icecream on the Sunday. As we finished the day with beer (C'mon, it's Josh and Ainsley!) we looked over at Liam's building and cried a little, stopped and made out, then cried a little more. I'd be lying if we didnt miss the little ferret...and our little lesbian too. Sydney has become a lonely city without them. I miss Liam's fashion sense and outragious laugh, and Lauren?...I miss Lauren...

So this week I took a sickie to study for my Molecular Biology test and because it was too nice a day to spend in Satan's lair (Satan gets a cap and god doesn't? This site is just controversial as!). I was rewarded with a job interview at a chemist in the city that a demon hadn't posessed. The owner and his wife are clients of my sister and when she gets people naked and oils them up, she's a great little networker! So it went well and I know this because here we on sickie day number two (I have a back problem, consistency is key) he called and said he 'wanted me'. First guy to say that to me in a while and he'll be paying me! When I rang up my boss this morning and told her I was still having back problems and my chiropractor told me I need a week off she goes 'Sima isn't here either, can you do half a day?' Hello devil-woman! It's my faux spine! So yeah, looking forward to having to call her at the end of this week and say I'm not coming back! Gulp! I happen to know that every one of her employees, even the one who has worked with her for 9 years are quitting, so it's a race, it's a race!

Josh and I have spent the morning culling the last of my RSVP dregs (yes, I'm internet dating! I know!) I can't say no to people, I feel mean, especially if by looking at their profiles you seem to have a lot in common, but...looking at the photos...eeeh? But now I have said no to 16 of Sydney's least eligible bachelors. I have said yes to one (he's a foetus though) and one is a maybe (he's really funny but is in a band and in lots of his pics hes wearing some sort of fishnet top?). Josh says yes (but I think we know why).

Ok, so this weekend Josh and I are puppy sitting which I'm pretty excited about. I start my new job on Friday and well, all is good back on the ranch.

xxx