Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

I’ve been tipsy off love before. I’ve even been a little love drunk. Most of my time spent under the influence of that much love though has been during long nights alone with my Pete Wentz image folder or when Fergie gets me love drunk off her humps, but I’ve never been this trashed before on love. I’ve never been love crunk. It feels like Cupid and I have spent an entire night drinking Henny‘ together and now I’m on my hands and knees in a gutter somewhere, vomitting teddy bears and rainbows all over.

I’m drinking through this hangover.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

I don’t know what that ”Fall” thing is, but I can’t wait for it to come around.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

Although I’ve been using Twitter for a long time now I’ve decided to make my presence on that particular bandwagon more well known. Now that Lily Allen has made it popular I’ve realised that I can use Twitter to help me get one step closer to my goal: infamy. If you decide to follow suit then come sit with me at the back of the wagon. I’ll be the kid not paying attention and making rude gestures to the people behind me.

http://twitter.com/Milneroo

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

In red.

In one to two weeks.

In-fucking-sane.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

The cast of The Outsiders:

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

Swagger on high.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

When it comes to anger there are so many ways you can convey your rage. You can punch a hole in a wall, that’s a classic. You can scream and shout. Then there’s my personal favourite of writing poems about your feelings while your angry, eye-liner infused tears fall to the pages of your journal because just no one understands you. But these actions can have some pretty serious consequences. However, I feel like I’ve come up with an idea that could change the world for the better.

Now I know what you’re thinking: ”But Milney, what idea could you have possibly come up with? And also how do you manage to have such good looks and that much swagger and still remain so humble?”

Thank you. My idea has already been used by countless movie directors, but I’m going to take this idea global. So, instead of hitting things or yelling to convey your rage, I propose that we all vow to only express our anger through the aggressive biting of pieces of raspberry liquorice. I’m sure you’ve all seen it done in movies, or even done it yourself, so you know just how serious it can come across.

Someone needs to design a holster that goes onto your belt to hold multiple pieces of the candy so if you feel the anger sharks begin to swim inside your head you can just bite down on a piece of the liquorice and quickly and violently yank it from your mouth. Imagine all of the anger-induced crimes that wouldn’t occur if the world began to use this delicious alternative.

Would anyone like a Milneroo.com liquorice holster once this idea gets viral?

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

You know you’re a little too into pop culture when:

Your Mum apologises for having a croaky voice by saying ”Sorry, I’m wheezy” and you have to stiffle your giggles because your mind instantly goes to Lil’ Wayne.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

Every second I spend with you feels like those first few magical seconds after your put a piece of JuicyFruit in your mouth.

Except when it comes to you, excessive consumption doesn’t have a laxative effect.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

You give me butterflies there’s no pesticide for.

You give me confidence like nothing before.

You’ve added a colour to my life that before you I’d never have dared test.

I know I’ve had you for a while, but we’ve only just begun.

You’re the colour of my pee.

A constant reminder to drink more water.

This is lust.

This is love.

When we’re together, I’m unstoppable.

When our soles touch,

I know this is forever.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

I can’t believe I haven’t spent more time fantasizing over what I’m about to write about. No where in my 20 years of life have I ever thought about how cool it would be to have an action figure of myself. I’m at a loss to how the idea slipped my mind. Maybe it’s because the only ”action” I’ve been getting up to lately that’s even remotely as radical as something Optimus Prime or G.I. Joe would do is gathering 7 Bunnings trolleys up at once instead of the allowed 6. Perhaps I’m more of an inaction figure than an action figure, but a boy can dream.

That got me thinking though: What would my action figure do and come with? Here are my ideas so far:

Hair Straightener - This is a requirement to keep up my swoosh hairstyle. Besides, I hear Barbies don’t dig curly hair.

My Yellow Supras - Still need swagger.

Brass Knuckles - My favourite weapon back when I was a street fighter. Got to keep them Bratz ho’s in check.

Energy Drinks - They keep this heart a-pumpin’.

My Mum’s Toyota Corolla - Comes with removable green P-plates, a radio that plays snippets of Fall Out Boy songs, working headlights and fold-down seats for heated make-out sessions. Transforms into a robotic Velociraptor. Sold seperately.

A deluxe version could also be available that has a pull string that makes me say 12 memorable phrases, such as:

”That’s what she said.”

”Customer assistance to aisle 26. That’s customer assistance to aisle 26. Thank you.”

”Do you have Myspace?”

”Fuck you, faggot.”

And everybodies favourite:

”I’m straight. I promise.”

Mattel, you have my number.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

Why has no one thought to give amputees missile arms like the ones on the toy above yet? Losing an arm would be such a depressing thing to have happen to you, so why not make it a little fun? It’d also be a great defense mechanism, so long as you didn’t miss.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

I think I’m finally through with masturhating. I used to be an avid fan of the art of self-hate but it’s time to get past it. The self-loathing was normally high on most days, but lately it’s been going down, down in an earlier round. And sugar, it’s going down swinging. All sorts of things are helping me get over my addiction to masturhation, but I’ve still got first date jitters when it comes to talking about personal stuff in a blog entry. However, most of you already know that I’m in a new relationship. It’s helping a lot and I’m just glad she didn’t charge me a fee for all of this extra baggage I’ve carried into the relationship.

It’s the same Milney, this is just a rrrreeeemmmmiiiixxxx.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

It’s time to kick this writer’s block to the curb. And while it’s on the curb I’m going to curb stomp it with all of the angst of a Perez Hilton-Lily Allen catfight. Instead of a trip to the gym or a good nights sleep I think that the only cure for this debilitating disease is just to write, regardless how crap I think it is. No matter how bad my writing is whilst I’m in this recovery period I doubt it will be as disappointing as finding a jigsaw puzzle in a Kinder Surprise. That’s heartbreak that not even Kanye with a drum machine can convey.

In other news: during my time spent not blogging I think I’ve perfected my Chewbacca impression. Now I just have to wait for some fool to try and remake Star Wars or turn it into a stage show. Take that, haters.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

Out of all of the blocks I could get I’ve had to have come down with this one. I’m fine with being cockblocked. I’d even settle for Jenny From The Block. But no, I’ve got writer’s block.

This could be God’s way of telling me to stop writing altogether. It could be his way of telling me that he doesn’t Digg my blog. That he didn’t forward it to his friends. Maybe he’s even telling me that he regrets ever StumbleUponing this site. Well, if it is, then I’m jumping ship. I’ll follow my media-influenced heart and become a Scientologist. I bet Tom Cruise is better looking than God anyway.

So, God, if you’ve subscribed to my RSS feed then this message is for you:

I will not apologise for my way of life, nor will I waver in it’s defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing monotony and slaughtering creativity, I say to you now that my spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast me, and I will defeat you.

Your blog is your legacy.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

Okay, so I’m not actually reading all of those books at the same time. My mind can’t handle all of that clutter, especially when I have to remember when American Idol is on next, contemplate whether I’m on S or B’s side on Gossip Girl, etc. So I just alternate between them all depending on my mood and how quickly my OCD makes me want to tear them apart.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

That picture just about sums up my life right now.

I tried looking for a life on eBay but there was no way I was going to spend as much on one as they were asking for.

Expect my normal type of entries soon. I’m still blogging, only this time…. it’s personal.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

I need to sleep but I’m terrified the bed bugs will bite.

I don’t need the energy. Fuck energy, I drink it.

A recent study has discovered that the main contributor for the increasing hole in the ozone layer is the amount of hairspray I use. Yikes.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

So, you like the show House? Well before you run out and buy seasons and seasons of the hit primetime television program you need to read this entry. It could save you hundreds of dollars…. So, here’s the exact formula used for the show:

- Patient is overcome with strange, often scary disease.

- They are examined by House and the other rather attractive doctors and are treated for diseases that they do not have.

- No one can figure out what’s wrong with the patient.

-House comes up with a crazy scheme to cure the patients illness which could jeopardize not only his career, but the entire hospital.

- No one believes House.

- The patient is treated by Dr House and is cured. It’s a miracle.

I just saved you countless hours which you can now spend on social networking sites.

You can thank me later.

Originally published at milneroo.com. You can comment here or there.

I’d ramble on about my lack of blogging lately but that’s just so generic. The good thing about my lack of entries is my mind is becoming a back catalogue for blogs so I have back up for when I can’t think of anything else to bore you with.

2009 is going to be all about getting popular when it comes to this blog. That’s where you come in. We all like to feel needed, and I need you.

Get busy blogging or get busy logging.