in the distance... a dog barked.

Dear Sir/Lady Cadbury,

Firstly, I must say that you are doing a wonderful job, bringing joy to my day-to-day life and quite literally making me slow down to a nicely paced waddle, enabling me to stop and enjoy life around me.

Your purple is regal and what can only be imagined as delicious. Your ideas fill the world with delight and your execution of these ideas is what keeps my tastebuds sane through vegetables and poorly cooked lentil dishes. For this, I thankyou.

However, I recently consumed one of your ‘marvellous creations’, which had me as excited as my dog when I pretend to throw a ball (but get this – I don’t actually throw it!!). When I bit down into the block, there was a burst of unicorns pooing rainbows into my mouth, followed by the taste of blood. My chewing slowed as I realised that there was SOMETHING OTHER THAN JOY IN MY CHOCOLATE.

There was also death.

Sir/Lady Cadbury – one of your mini ‘Joyville’ workers was gruesomely embedded in one of your jellybean filled chocolate pieces. His face was frozen in a horrified scream, his leg severed from my initial excited bite. A far cry from the jolly faced plump citizens and workers in your Joyville workshop.

He was no jelly bean.

You will be pleased to hear that I ate around the small man – out of respect- and placed his tiny body in a foil wrapping and placed him in a cool, dry cupboard as recommended on your website, treated with the ideals of chocolate in death, as in life.

Sir/Lady Cadbury, I ask, nay, BEG you to reassess your OH&S practices in your workplace. The harnesses used in your production line do not seem like the ideal or the safest jellybean delivery system. I ask that you place at least two first aid boxes within the immediate area.

Your worker died a true hero and if YOU DON’T WANT ME GOING TO THE POLICE, I DEMAND CITIZENSHIP IN JOYVILLE AND A HOME MADE FROM THE FINEST CADBURY CHOCOLATE.

I am quite upset as the taste of your workman really did ruin the marvellous creations taste experience.

Kindest Regards,

Julia.

You have 7 days.

1 day ago -

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I drew this today at work. Cuvara Jong il (Taken with instagram)

5 days ago

My bloggy woggy.

My name is Julia. It rhymes with Goolia, which was pointed out in the popular 90’s movie, the Wedding Singer (There, I’ve acknowledged it, we can move on).

I’ve grown up in a middle class – well off Australian family in a street that proudly bears a sign saying ‘Best Street Award, 1997’ but is now plagued with a few too many newspapers discarded on lawns and more and more commodores, utes and Fords creeping into already full driveways.

I am a visual artist and Comedienne. Well, that’s what I’d like to think/say to people. I actually work in a regulatory job in an Airport. I seize bananas and wooden phalliac bottle openers from tourists, migrants and residents. Sound boring? Well, they made a TV show about what I do, so, shut up. No, they’re not filming today and no, I’m not the right person to help you smuggle in alcohol/cigarettes/narcotics/weapons into the country, you Today Tonight watching, never taken drugs in your life fool.

I got angry there and I apologise.

So in my late teens, I accidentally ate too much food. This resulted in me doing many things including successfully becoming single, moaning and groaning about lack of direction, lack of boyfriend and why I hadn’t done as easily in the real world as I had through school (read: I never did much at school but was a sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet sweet talker, once achieving an ‘A’ for an assignment I’d never laid pen/keyboard to).

I started a job as a receptionist in a women’s gym, where I was employed because the manager liked my enthusiastic and happy attitude when I came in to work out. I now see that she wanted to appeal to the self conscious female demographic of the gym to have a jolly overweight girl greeting you at the counter. I think it worked too, as I sat there, bored and munging on snacks that weren’t carrot sticks, the slightly overweight middle aged women seemed pretty smug with themselves. It would have been a good job if it wasn’t being at a receptionist and if it wasn’t anywhere near oestrogen or a gym.

I’ve started writing this at 1:42am when I have to get up at 4am… why? Because I’m dedicated to you guys! ‘Shucks’, I hear you say.

‘No worries’. I say back to you, with a smile and a wink.

I got distracted. All I’m really trying to say is that I’m going to blog. It will sometimes be funny, it will sometimes be bitter and it sometimes won’t make sense but do you know what it will do? Sit there. Whether you read it or not.

(which I hope you do)

FOLLOW! at http://juliasaysomething.tumblr.com/

6 days ago -

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