The 1st, 2nd, 3rd (and maybe the 4th if we have time) sign of the apocalypse.

The first sign would have to undoubtedly be Nikki Webster posing in lingerie in FHM.

I have an absolutely pathological hatred of Nikki Webster and I Don't Know Why. I mean obviously she's never done anything to me and it's not the whole Don't Hate Me Because I'm A Tall Poppy crap. I think it might actually be the spiral curl.

But still, when I worked in a music store every month I would run to the drawer holding 100 copies of her album (ever wonder how she and the Pop Idols got those gold albums? That's because in Australia it's worked on how many albums shipped not sold) that for some reason we never sent back (and yet we sent back Pnau after two weeks - hello!) and scan them to see if we have finally, finally! marked them down so I could see a chapter close. But no. They never did. And as far as I know they're still there signalling the end of the human race.

The second sign of the apocalypse would have to be me buying chick-lit. I bought my first one today. I don't think I'll ever be clean. For those of you who think I'm being a hypocrite since I read Mills and Boons (oh yes) I just have one...two... five! words to say.

Mills and Boons is candy.

I can read that shit in thirty minutes, a late night snack before bed if you will and it uses exactly one brain cell located around my right temporal lobe.

And they're hysterical. How many euphemisms can one author use in the one book for the word penis? Mills and Boons answer? Lots.

Chick-lit however is like the Cadbury Breakfast Bar. It's pretending to be healthy breakfast food but it has a two centimetre milk chocolate base and really, have we fallen down the nutritional abyss that badly that it's a viable breakfast alternative?

Admittedly you have to love a book that on Page 10 has:

He looked uncomfortable but then smiled at me. "Let's just have a nice
dinner together, okay? After dinner I have a suprise for you."

He was either going to propose or we were breaking up. It is
indicative of the parlous and confused state of modern relationships
that Charlie acting romantically could be an indication of either extreme.

- Lovestruck by Melanie La'Brooy

So maybe this one will not involve a ditzy, clutzy, bad-with-money and yet somehow manages to snag the unlikely Hot Hero chick.

The third would have to be that I'm so incredibly bored. As a sign of how bad things can get and how quick they can happen, the last time I was this bored, I moved back to Perth. After thinking about it for two days.

Once upon a time it used to involve me going on huge, decadent benders with gay boys like going to Suede for lunch and still being there cocktail in hand for dinner or making my manager give me cuddles all day because I'd only slept for fifteen minutes the entire weekend which was while I was waiting for my tram to arrive.

And lastly, the fourth sign of the apocalypse is that I came back from work today to a semi-clean house. My first thought was that my brother's on-off-on-off-on-off-on-off x1000 girlfriend had come over and cleaned but nope, it was all him.