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Apparently we are all being monitored. According to the gods of propaganda our IP address, real life address, credit card number, age and genital size can be listed by the government, foreigners and tech savvy pedophiles at the drop of a hat. These 'big brothers' aren't putting their knowledge to very good use- if everyone knows everything about me then why do I have to continually register to vote, drive, work, not work and why do I have to give someone my credit card number every time I win a million dollars on the internet?!? Next time I have to fill in a registration form, I'm just going to write "Google that shit!"; or maybe if they seem like the type to go for the underdog, "Bing that shit!"

That being said, there is one situation in which it is beneficial to register. Gift time! Unfortunately, I have never been eligible to do this as apparently "It's my birthday" or "I'd like some presents for being nice" aren't good enough reasons to. I think that they are better than "I'm getting married" or "My uterus is full" but society seems to disagree.

Really, I deserve to register for gifts. Believe me when I say that I have paid my bad gift dues. I once received a second hand tennis trophy with my name scratched into the plaque from my brother. He knows knows full well that I'm not good at any sport- particularly tennis. Rub salt in the wound asshole. My eco friendly Mother gave me a jumper made from recycled beach towels. 'nuff said*. I wore it once because we were having spaghetti bolognese for dinner and I wanted to stain it. Success.

These presents were slightly off centre but I could tell that they came from the right place. I'm sure my brother was trying to show me a world where I was good at sports and at least the jumper didn't destroy the Earth. Often in gifts you can see that somebodies heart is in the right place but this next gift- my all time favourite- shocked me to my core. My boss must think that I am a twelve-year-old Dwight Schrute (Yes I watch the American office; the humour is easier and it has a happy ending- deal with it) because for christmas last year she gave me a five headed, hand painted, hand glittered dragon. I shit you not.

It is my birthday soon. I expect gifts. If you can't think of any good ones; just google that shit.

*It was very thoughtful Mum. Thank you.