Turfism
I do agolopize for the brief promise of more regular postings, it’s just that this weird wave of cyberphobia has kicked in again. I’m sure it’ll go away soon. In the meantime, here is a random photograph of my dear ole dad and some slapper I used to know as a kid. You should see the state of her now.
Why you need to sleep with a teddybear
Created by deviant artist Begemott.
Don’t be racist
… and drives like an Irishman!!!
Stolen from Blame it on the Voices
Puppychild wrote a book…
…and won an award!!
I’m so proud.
She was very nonchalant about it, it didn’t seem to occur to her to be proud of the achievement at all… so much so, she forgot to tell me about it. I was reading the school newsletter when I saw her little name pop up in the section about the ‘Write-A-Book” project her school takes part in every year. She was one of two kids in her class to achieve a special merit.
I pee-d myself a little bit with excitement and shrilled scornful surprise at her for not telling me. She flushed and smiled a little bit, then returned to her own planet, and I to mine.
I grew a writer! How great is that?
Dub Boy Angst
Laughingboy invented a new music genre today, I call it Dub Angst:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
Isn’t it lovely? If I play it back to him during a shouting spell he calms right down instantly, but only for the duration of the track. I may have to record an album and turn him into a gazillionnaire.
I created the file using the ‘LaDiDa’ app(lication) for the iPhone. Sorry. I’m aware that last sentence made me sound like a tosser, but technology does have its perks.
Counting electric sheep
Things were tough last Friday night. A recent rash of local house break-ins had me edgy, and a pretty violent lightning storm boomed itself around my bedroom in surround sound and killed any chance of sleep stone dead.
I dozed fitfully and dreamed of weapons that I could use against a potential burglar, then had vivid and graphic nightmares about the various ways my weapons could be used against me.
Gradually more and more members of the family joined me in my bed as the night went on, and I woke in the early morning to find I’d been breastfeeding the dog.
THERE’s a day that can only improve by comparison.
Meh…
Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Objective case.
Objective case who?
Wrong.
How to undermine the Queen
Here’s a really oddball present for someone, should you be stuck with a credit card but no car.
Did you know that you could become:
Lord/Lady, Baron/Baroness, Duke/Duchess, Count/Countess, Viscount/Viscountess, Marquis/Marchioness, Earl/Countess, Sir/Dame -insert your own moniker here-, for the low, low price of $294????
“Imagine… A Life Of Priviledge
-Credit cards emblazoned with “Lord (or Lady) Smith”
-All identification confirming the new royal title.
-Doors opening professionally and socially.
-is no faster way to climb the social ladder.
-A unique and thoughtful gift which can pay for itself.
-A fantastic icebreaker which gains instant respect and credibility
-Unlocking doors which were previously unknown
-A completely risk-free gift”
Risk-free?!?!? If you say so!! The ebony certificate jacket would be worth that alone!
Kisskiss sweetie-dahling
xx
Countess K8 the Gr8
Holy Shucking Fit
Where has time disappeared to?! Who stole last week?!?
This lapse in my time/space continuum might have something to do with Sir Fartsalot. He also drinksalot as it turns out. This means school homework, cuddle time with Laughingboy and basic sanity is on hold until the child sorts out his boob routine. It’s amazing how, from birth, men are obsessed with breasts.
As stressful as babies may seem however, mother nature has her gifts… I’d forgotten about that buzz, that amazing release of oxytocin breastfeeding gives both boober and boobee. A plane could crash right outside the window, but all I would muster would be a roll of my eyes and a “Meh… I’ll clean it up later.” Poor house. Poor family. Poor blog. I’ll get ’round to you all eventually.
In the meantime, we’re going on holidays next week just to throw some gratuitous action into the mix.
Cork is about to be very, very sorry it was ever born.
Death of a Fad
I volunteer as a docket stamper in the school library on Friday mornings. It’s like having an inside feed into the popculture world, much like @BreakingNews is to Twatterrers.
Today I overheard one eight-year-old scoff at another…
“Oh my Gawd, you don’t still read High School Musical books do you? Isn’t that… like… so boring now?”
All my malenky little hairs stood endwise real horrorshow, O my brother, I was that happy to hear it.
Maybe that’s the start of of Gee and Whineapple’s decline on the Gogglebox so? Fingers crossed!
