Self-portrait having endured election campaign.


258 Responses

  1. Yet again, Spiderman’s name was depressingly absent from my ballot paper. I’m going to have to find me a new hero.

  2. Your image looks more enthusiastic than mine! What a shit fight… and you have Pauline Hanson back to stir up the natives. Can she replace Spiderman?.

    • Maybe we could rename her as Crab Woman? That fits in with her nature & anything she may have picked up from her campaign manager.

  3. Poor little Wyatt lost his seat, too. I suppose he can go back to High School and finish his Senior Certificate, now.

  4. Derryn Hinch got in. Shame, shame, shame!

  5. Isn’t he terminally ill? He should make some entertaining speeches.

    • Reformed alcoholic. They told him he’d die of liver cancer or cirrhosis or maybe both, and renal failure, & he gave up the booze, survived the surgery & a stint in prison, and is back, all shiny & new.
      God only knows what kind of brain damage he’s developed from all those years of swilling scotch, but I guess we’ll find out when the new batch of loonies take charge of the country.

  6. Hey never mind. Looks like we can look forward to another one any day now. (NZ here I come)

    • On the bright side, if they summon Tony back from the trenches, the cartoonists will make a killing out of it.

  7. I often heard Wyatt talking on the local radio & despite my green lefty communist leanings & my loathing of youth, he struck me as having a good head on his shoulders. I don’t think I’d want to deal with a member who was that young. Hopefully he’ll grow up to me a nice moderate conservative & the right wing nut jobs in the LNP won’t savage him beyond repair for being Mal’s little protege.

  8. Don’t move to Un Zud, GB. I have no urge to visit Un Zud.

  9. One of the Boss’s Maori friends is talking about going back to get away from the madness. He reckons most of his Un Zud friends have already given up and gone home. You know things are bad when all the rets disert the sunking shup.

  10. I dunno. I heard some of Pauline’s press conference this morning and I am genuinely ashamed and concerned. A Royal Commission into whether Islam is a religion…? I mean you might not like or admire Islam (I don’t) but seriously.

  11. Hehehe. What’s a Royal Commission going to DO, anyway? I think she’s confused it with an Inquisition.

    • She very graciously opined this morning that we couldn’t really deport all the Moslems already living here. Jolly nice of her really.

      • I suspect the Halal Snack Pack fanciers will vote her out next election. Still, that’s several long years of idiocy away, most likely.

  12. I plan to ignore her.
    The only reason she’s got such a following is because she gets so much airtime from saying ridiculous things & then sensible people get outraged about it instead of rolling their eyes in embarrassment, switching her off & listening to someone else.
    The real worry is that the slimier members of the gubbermint will get away with all sorts of sliminess because they’ll just keep throwing halal snack packs at her ‘Look! Over There!’ to divert the media & the public from all the sneaky slimy things they don’t want us to notice that they’re doing.

  13. So much sneak. So much slime. I’m too old and tired for gubbermint.

  14. I have very strong and angry opinions on the subject, so I shall refrain from ranting and instead offer nothing but snark.

    Speaking of snark, I notice that 40 members of the British opposition have quit over Brexit. Jeremy Corbyn has no cabinet! I wonder where he will keep his teacups now?

  15. With all of the whining and bitching about hung parliament & how the loonies are in control, nobody ever seems to consider the possibility that the major parties could actually unite to push through sensible legislation so that the loonies don’t even count. This has happened in other countries – I remember someone on twitter posting a link to the story – and all that was required was the major parties pulling their own nut job members into line & behaving with reasonable common sense.
    While I think of it, it’s worth popping in to the scribe’s blog to see the summary that some wit did as a cheat sheet to help him remember who stands for what in the senate ballot. Hilarious.
    As with his SMH blog, the secret to navigating that territory is Never Read The Comments. I’m pretty sure Havock’s account got hijacked by one of the nastier Lizard Men, years ago. Sock puppets – ugh.

  16. Some sock puppets are good value. Hey, Greybeard, will you be bringing back Mayhem’s Mum anytime soon?

    • I was never Mayhem’s Mum – though I suspect someone not too far from here. And i too miss the mad old git.

  17. So do the rats.

  18. We have plenty of rats. The Boss bought a brilliant little trap at the Trash & Treasure, and set it up next to the compost bin. A sweet little grey rat crept in for the cheese (yes, we baited it with cheese) and the Boss was going to dispose of it thoughtfully, but MK got all upset and demanded that he release it over the back fence. So he did, and it promptly ran to the corner of the fence, popped through a hole and scarpered straight down the side of the house – and into the compost bin. *sigh*

  19. Next time you’re emptying the trap. distract MK with something shiny.

    • Papier-mâché reptiles might work that trick far better

  20. Good point, Q. Or set her to make a papier-mache rat for her snake to eat.

  21. Yes. Yes! I’ll make two. Although I think the compost rats are smart enough not to let any of their own get caught again.

  22. Yeah, that one you set free will be running seminars.

  23. What scares me most was that he brought the trap inside to show me, so now the rat knows the layout of the joint…. buh-buh BUUUUHHHH!

  24. That dirty rat!

  25. He was kinda cute, TBH. He looked like a little possum.

  26. Perhaps they’ve combined forces to produce a super breed of roof thumpers?

  27. An American possum or an Aussie one? Coz the American ones are way creepy looking.

  28. He was just like a baby bushtail, except for the tail. Not creepy at all – I can see why MK didn’t want the Boss to hurt him.

    • Aha! Another convert to Rat-Lovers Anonymous. They are kind of cute and they don’t stink like mice. One of ours was called Possum and had four white feet and a white tip on her tail.

      • My brother had a little white rat that he called Ratsheba. She was adorable and very loyal. They do make good pets.

  29. Wait till he’s fully grown, with long yellow teeth and those strangely human looking paws … shudder. I hate rats.

  30. I read the last reply (morgana’s) without reading the others, and wondered whose children or grandchildren were under the microscope this time.
    Greybeard’s spawn, of course.
    I should’ve known.
    Onto other news, I spent the morning making that recipe for boiled caramel fudge from 1958 Good Housekeeping! magazine, that some good soul had posted on the internet.
    It worked rather too well, and now I feel sick.
    Pass the Tums, someone?

  31. Don’t you boil all fudge?

  32. That was my first thought until I remembered that some fudge requires no cooking at all. There was a peanut butter fudge recipe on Facebook yesterday (Mayhem’s, I think) that was just peanut butter with corn syrup oil and coconut fat mixed with peanut butter, with a Nuttella/corn syrup oil/coconut fat mixture swirled through it. The whole thing was refrigerated without cooking. It looked gruesome and sickly, but given my own fudge will make anyone sick if they eat enough of it, I don’t think that’s a problem.

    Sorry, Q, no Tums left. My Nexium is a once-a-day prescription so every antacid in the house has been used up on snacks.

  33. No, thanks. That’s peanut coconut ice and makes me feel sick just reading the description.

  34. Oh, I LOVE coconut ice! My recipe is made with condensed milk, so it doesn’t hold its shape very well until it dries out. But I’m not fond of dried-out coconut ice, so I usually only make it for Easter egg or chocolate filling.

  35. Yum! what a fabulous idea.
    I love coconut ice too, but I use a recipe from that Better Food Ideas magazine from years ago – it uses copha (or coconut oil, as we now call it) and egg whites. So you have to keep it in the fridge, and they won’t accept it or any other perishables for the show comps. It has to be the traditional boiled sweets – it’s hard to kill anyone with boiled sugar. Well, clearly you can, but it’s a slow process & egg white left out in the summer heat is a far more efficient means of gastronomic murder.
    As for the modern trend in fudge recipes – Mayhem seems to be right on top of it. The old school way of boiling sweets is out, the preference now is to shove a lot of chocolate melts into the microwave with a bunch of other crap, and to persuade the kiddies that this is what you call Fudge.
    My fudge recipe has 1/2 a tin of condensed milk added to the simmered sugar, butter & milk. It took over 30 minutes to cook, not counting the beating time, but it’s damned near perfect, so it’s well worth it.
    Thank you, Good Housekeeping magazine of 1958.

  36. Mine is basically a Russian caramel recipe, but with half of the sugar replaced with glucose. I fudge it up by whisking it after it comes off the stove. For some reason I haven’t worked out, the recipe no longer works as Russian caramels. I suspect maybe they’re putting something different in the condensed milk that stops it from setting. It would be logical, given the number of accidents people used to have by boiling sealed tins to make caramel tart filling.

  37. Yeah I’m sure the stuff I remember from childhood was much thicker & less runny. Perhaps they had to take the unlisted DDT out of it when they introduced labelling laws a few years ago?

  38. Stupid labelling laws. So many of my favourite products were discontinued when they came in.

  39. Just recently I’ve looked for several things that seem to no longer exist. Falling out of step with majority taste must be another symptom of the Chroning. You know, along with policemen looking like children and not liking modern music.

  40. The years certainly are creeping up on me. The other day there was a baby-lady serving me at a shop, and she had a little smear on her face. It was all I could do not to whip out my hankie, lick it, and wipe her chubby cheek clean. I felt so ancient. Nothing says ‘Old Lady’ like having an actual handkerchief in your handbag.

  41. Crap. Should I go out and buy some handkerchiefs?

  42. I’ve been known to tap them on the shoulder & ask if they’d like me to tuck in the labels on their tank tops. Unless it’s blocking out part of a large tattoo, in which case I’d prefer to look at the Big W labels.

  43. There is little uglier than a long list of children’s names tattooed down the back of some bogan woman’s neck. If they’re going to get an ugly tattoo, they could at least put it somewhere they can see it too – why should we be the only ones who have to suffer?

  44. I always assumed that’s some sort of roll call for those most likely to stab her in the back.

  45. Or an easy checklist for Centrelink. Speaking of Centrelink, I found out a month ago that they have LK listed as a girl. Every attempt I have made to get this updated has fallen on deaf ears. Bloody Centrelink.

  46. Don’t worry about it. Some day, you can take him in, tell them he identifies as a boy and you need carer’s pension to stop him being bulliied.

  47. LOL.
    If it’s any consolation, Telstra have assigned me an alternate gender, too.

  48. Hmm, I wonder what gender they think I am? I know they have a low opinion of my economic know-how, with their outrageous pricing.

  49. That’s how business and government think. As far as I can tell, politicians have decided to combat global warming by taxing petrol until it’s too expensive to buy, therefore nobody will drive and voila! Reduced carbon footprint.

  50. Although it will be hell on retail. There are only so many tins of baked beans you can schlep home by foot.

  51. Tell me about it. I foolishly went to the bakery & our fave fruit store in Vagus before discovering that the car would need to sit in the shop overnight. After schlepping all of that home on the train – including the biggest pumpkin in the store – I’m profoundly grateful for the restored health of our little diesel guzzler.

  52. It was a selling point for our house, being directly across the road from a shopping complex. I fondly imagined popping over there and walking home with my shopping. Not that I’ve ever actually done that (because lazy) but it’s nice to know I can if it’s ever necessary.

  53. Yes, when you get old you can defy the traffic in a mobility scooter. Hopefully one of those ones that looks like a Harley.

  54. When I need a mobility scooter I intend to customise it as per an Israeli war tank.

  55. Minus the crushed Palestinian children on the grille, I hope.

    • Well I suppose so, if you insist. I’d have to leave the crushed teenage UN aid volunteers though. With so many of their kind driving camper vans around here, that should serve to terrify at least a third of what’s likely to bump me off the road.

  56. You’re no fun, Morgana.

  57. No, I must be getting old. I used to be all about crushing the oppressed.

  58. No no no, we call that ‘parenting’ now.

  59. There’s a place near us that sells mobility scooters, including the Harley looking ones. Classic headlight, leather saddlebags. If I had to…

  60. GB, there’s a guy near me that tootles around on one of those. A word of advice: wear a sleeveless black AC-DC shirt instead of a pilled cardie, or it just won’t look right.

    There’s also a couple who ride together in a little buggy scooter with plastic curtains. They are the scourge of Knox, terrorising shoppers and traffic alike. That’s what I want to do when I’m old. Piss off as many people as I can. And now you know why I do it now – I’m getting in plenty of practise.

    • “The Scourge of Knox” That sounds great! I’ll start practising too.

  61. The Scourge of Knox is a tops name. Do your kids fancy starting a metal band, by any chance?

  62. LK mentioned it just yesterday. He’s found himself a drummer, so at least we know they’ll be right for drugs.

  63. And crabs!

  64. Nah, he doesn’t eat seafood.

  65. The Scourge of Knox. heheheheheheheh. You do know that’s an elite private WASP boys’ school in Wahroonga?
    A very old, dear & eccentric gay friend of mine used to be the scients teacher there. You might have to ask him if he’s got copyright on that title & if he’ll let you borrow it.

  66. Whoops! I just googled it & the first thing that came up was that they had a culture of covering up sexual abuse. Nasty. And nothing to do with my darling friend. Still, that does make it even better if you’re naming a grunge rock band.

  67. There’s a private school here that’s called The Knox School. It’s why our suburb has such exorbitant real estate values – people from China and India love that school, and will pay anything to live nearby.

    • Opportunity Knox?

      • Oh dear. Not on a Monday, GB. We’ve run out of veal.

  68. It seems wrong that it should be a school. It should be a fort.

  69. I’ve emptied at least a dozen boxes over the last two days. Are there any personalities out there that you’d like me to box & store?

  70. Nope. I’m using all of mine. But thanks for offering.

  71. I asked them, but then they all started turning on each other and I missed half of “Bargain Hunt”. I’d better stay split.

  72. If two people with multiple personalities have intimate relations, wouldn’t that technically be an orgy?

  73. Yes, except in Tasmania where it would be classified as a family reunion.

    • Actual LOL. Would have been a ROFL but iss me knees y’know.

      • Stupid knees. One of mine is playing up. I’m not likely to pray any time soon, but what if I need to swear fealty?

  74. I never took you for a fealtor, Morgana, but hey, who am I to judge?

  75. Skip the fealty this month & swear bloody retribution instead. It’s far more satisfying in the long run.

  76. Depends on how you feal I suppose. Oops, my Supreme Overlady is calling…

  77. Bloody retribution does sound like fun.

    But speaking of fealty, TGP has developed the alarming habit of sprawling all over me (not just the normal lap sitting) and whispering, “I own you”.

  78. It doesn’t count unless he gives you an apple.

  79. Hehehe. I’d forgotten about the apple. Lucky there’s an escape clause … an escape fruit?

  80. Jackfruit maybe?

  81. Whooooosh…that’s the sound of all of that going over my head, and me being too lazy to google it.
    maybe after the chores.
    Meh to chores.

  82. Death to chores!

  83. Seconded!

  84. Consider them Axed.

  85. Was it Dorothy Parker who said that chores were a waste of time? You do the dishes and make the beds and mop the floors and six months later you have to do it all again.

  86. Well, apparently if you make your bed you only encourage mites and bed bugs, so we’re quite safe from those. And all the scattered dirt is boosting our immune systems. The cobwebs catch insects without the need for planet-killing insecticides. Good lord, my house is nearly perfect!

  87. I don’t have cobwebs. I have Italian Decorator Lace. Lots of it.

  88. The GF that visited on Friday was a former house mate. She complained that my house was unnaturally clean & orderly. I still think it’s chaos, perhaps I have a problem?
    Then again, I’ll feel that way until I know where my 1950s pony stories & my Anne Rice novels are.

  89. I would die of shame if you ever saw the filthy state of my house, Q.

    • Catty thanks to our perpetual renovations I can’t afford to travel anywhere anyway. You are safe from OCD marsupial visits for the foreseeable future.

  90. I don’t think I told you, but the whole family is coming up to the Coast for Xmas. The good news is they’ve rented the house across the road so they’re not actually staying with me. I think I’ll have to get a skip anyway.

    • Most excellent.
      I’m trying to persuade the Bloke to go south to his brother’s place for Xmas, so that none of them get it into their heads to come here.
      How was your day, Morgana? Any joy?
      And for the Victorians, any snow?

  91. No snow here. Just bitter cold wind that would have frozen my old bones if I hadn’t had the foresight to protect them with extremely thick layers of lard. Yay for carbs! (That was close. Spellcheck tried to change that to crabs.)

    • Yay for crabs too – fresh-cooked Mud Crabs anyway.

  92. Snow you say? https://www.dropbox.com/s/mrvzasxhddwnso7/Snow%20day%201.jpg?dl=0 (Had just hit daddy with a snowball)

  93. And more snow: https://www.dropbox.com/s/618k4r9g5gohwwm/Snow%20day%202.jpg?dl=0 (He was only held up by the clothes. And daddy)

    • Wow! Where did you go to find the snow? BOM said it would be above 300m so I assume Dandenongs?
      what a fabulous outing!

  94. Photo #1 confused me for a second. At first glance, daddy’s collar and beanie looked for all the world like Darth Vader’s head. I’m really going to have to start wearing my glasses.

  95. Well, we established that because Gigantor does nothing in the subject he won’t be doing Art next year. The counsellor made me feel better, I suppose, by pointing out that he has a lot of maturing to do. I guess because he is 6′ 3″ and has an ample neckbeard you expect – well, not sense, but the average level of male mental muntedness – from him. So when he says that his life plan is to travel the world in a Combi picking fruit, you panic.

    I’ve told him if he refuses to go to TAFE he has to work out the pre-reqs – and then take them – for some (any!) course. He thought he’d just do some soft subjects and spend Senior goofing off, too.

    That smile! And look at wee Hamish standing up!!

    • Isn’t it strawberry season? Surely you can find a berry farmer somewhere & dump him on their farm as a volunteer for the day to see how he likes it.
      I’d pay the strawberry farmer to take him on for the weekend & ensure that he suffers.
      When he returns home, hunchbacked, frostbitten, sunburned & with his fingers shredded to blisters, the fruit picking idea might lose it’s gloss.

  96. Don’t panic Madam. With his height, Gigantor would make an excellent fruit picker. Orchard fruit, that is, not strawberries. And the bloke who bought FIL’s Combi to renovate it has finally finished the job. The asking price is $28K, but it’s worth it. Especially as he left FIL’s custom-made Elmo curtains in the windows. It sounds like a great plan to me. Certainly it’s better than wanting to be a rock star, or a professional gamer. And it has the added bonus of a diet high in fruit (healthy!), and if he happens to get one of those little British backpackers pregnant, she will return to England to have the baby and he won’t be stuck with child support payments. Clever! He’s really thought this through, hasn’t he?

  97. MM, the other thing to consider is to sign him up as a volunteer at one of the wildlife parks. Pretty much every single staff member at the Currumbin wildlife sanctuary started out volunteering there as a teen & then went on to study scients or zoology or environmental stuff at uni. It’s a good focus for them.
    Dump him at the Australia Zoo, STAT.
    I wonder if you could send him off to work experience with Nblob?

  98. Hehehe. Stop it, Catty. I don’t want grandchildren with bad teeth on another continent.

    Yes, one of my customers is a strawberry farmer, I plan to get him out amongst the rows ASAP.

    While I’m picking brains, Q – one of my co-workers 14 YO daughter is more Wuthering than the average adolescent girl. St John’s Wort, do you think, or what else to lift her mood?

    • Exercise, and time outdoors. No reputable witch would recommend a chemical until you’ve addressed the inertia & social isolation.
      Treating teens with medication for depression is a risky business – the research is that those who’ve used it have worse mental health as they grow older than those who didn’t.
      Chemicals are chemicals, be they herb or synthesised by Big Pharma, and my problem with treating depression by any kind of chemical is it doesn’t address the underlying causes.
      Find her a therapist before you put her on pills of any kind.
      There was an article in the ABC scients thing recently showing that spending half an hour in a park or on the beach, 3 x per week, does more good for depression anxiety than any other kind of treatment.
      Take the broom to her & get her out into Nature.

  99. For a 14 year old? If there’s no history of hormonal imbalance in the family, she might just be using the wrong beauty products. Nivea was outed a while ago as being full of carcinogens that are supposed to be banned in Aus. She might want to change her brand of pimple cream and switch to better quality makeup, like (sorry to say it) Nutrimetics.

    St John’s Wort is good, but it interferes with a lot of medicines. For a kid that young, it’s usually better to change their diet to include avocado, mushrooms, omega3 fishies, and licorice root; ban all electronic devices after 9pm so she gets enough sleep; and make sure she gets in three or four half-hour walks every week. It would also help to find out which boy she’s pining over, and pay his parents a few hundred $K to send him to some other school. Or break his knees – you guys learned how to do that as part of your job training, right?

  100. Oh yeah, we’ve got a company knee breaking OH&S system and a tool allowance.

    Well, she’s a skater so she sort of exercises and her Mum’s already got her on the device ban at night which is better than I’m doing.

    The Omega-3s is an excellent plan, I’ll suggest it. Thanks, Catty!

  101. We tried turning off the WiFi at a set time every night, but then we found out the kidlets were waiting until we went to sleep and then turning it back on. We caught them out when they fell asleep with their devices and hadn’t turned it off again before we got up in the morning. Teenie looked so cute, curled up and cuddling his iPad – it seemed such a pity to wake him up and tear him a new one.

  102. Yeah, I’ve decided to unplug it and take it to bed with me. Let’s see how that goes!

  103. The Teenie is complaining that the WiFi is useless anyway, because no Pokemon are venturing into our yard. He’s been frantically looking for public places with free WiFi. Oh, well, at least it gets him out of the house.

  104. Agreed. I’d cut her access to screen time, be it computer, phone or television. Odds are it’s something nasty that’s happening on social media or at school & while good nutrition will help, feelings of depression & anxiety are something that we all have to learn to deal with & I’d go down the CBT/therapy path so she gets some actual skills to deal.
    The teacher next door comes home from school every day & gets on the phone for hours upon hours to complain about the ghastly social interactions between her high school students & the stress it causes all involved. I keep wanting to tell her to put the damned phone down & go out & walk her poor ignored dog for an hour among the birds & the trees & just let go of it – but she doesn’t, she drinks beer instead.
    Has this child not discovered valium & 4x, yet?

  105. No, but you’d think her fellows down at the skate ramp would have her on inhalants and disco biscuits by now.

  106. Re the WiFi, if you get into the router settings, you can set times when it’s on, times when it’s off and even block specific sites or devices. I used to do a lot of that at work, to the great disappointment of many.

  107. Can you really, GB? Last time I tried to change the password I cut off our internet altogether and nearly had a conniption. How do you do it – it’s an ASUS if that helps.

    I don;t care how much porn he watches as long as it’s before 10 p.m.

    • I’ll have a look at the manual. Do you have the model number?

  108. And as long as he doesn’t use my credit card to pay for it. Again.

  109. Apart from the body of research that says that a high volume of porn correlates with a low volume of respect for women. Surely there’s a way to reroute any search for porn to a veritable burrow of Sylvanian bunnies?

  110. I tell them once a fortnight that real women don’t look like that or do those things for free.

  111. I added guilt to that script, when my nephews got into that, by telling them the stats that most women get into porn to fuel the drug habit caused by their childhoods of horrific sexual abuse.

  112. Then they want to hear gory stories about their abusive fathers. Actually, mostly I think they play games and such. The fact that porn is everywhere makes it less alluring than it was when you had to search under your Father’s bed or hide away in a shed with it.

  113. I’m absolutely positive my father never hid any porn under his bed. I did all the cleaning, and if any of the men in my family were hiding anything there, the vacuum cleaner would have sucked it out. I did find something interesting under mother’s side of the bed once, but she refused to tell me what it was and I still don’t know.

  114. Well, we’re pretty sure it wasn’t a kitchen utensil. Not a useful one, anyway.

  115. Turkey baster?

  116. More like a Pterodactyl baster. You’re right. Not very useful at all. I can’t tell you when I last cooked a Pterodactyl, and I sure don’t remember Mother ever cooking one.

  117. You have to hang them for a while like game birds or they’re too tough. There’s nothing better than a well hung pterodactyl.

    • You’re ptero-bull, Muriel.

  118. That’s what she said.

  119. Mmmmm…. Kosher Roc….

  120. Nooooo! Earworm!

    Dance your cares away! (clap clap)
    Worries for another day!

    Please, somebody start singing Hot Potato.

  121. cold spaghetti, cold spaghetti

    No, I’ve watched so much footage looking for Melbo, all I can sing is:
    “It’s me
    your Cathy
    I’ve come home
    So coooooooold
    Let me in at your windoooooooooooohooooohooooow”

  122. I’m coming back now, cruel Heathcliff….

    Yep, that works. Thanks, Madam.

  123. My one dream, my only master

  124. I could have sworn she sings Monster there.

  125. Did you see “once upon a time I was falling in love/now I’m only falling apart?nothing I can do/turtle hairclips of the heart”?

  126. LOL! She could have done with a few hairclips, what with the wind machine blowing her hair like that.

    Did I tell you LK used to sing, “I wish I was a prawn cracker with flowers in my hair”? I love that child.

  127. Hehehe. That’s sweet. But now I’m craving prawn crackers.

  128. I’m craving chocolate eclairs. With real cream. Mmmmm….

    We just went for a drive to run a few errands, and the Boss wanted to drop in at the op shop for something or other. While he was busy, I was checking out the red dresses for next year’s Wuthering. He caught me out. Now he thinks we’re all mad. *sigh* Some people just don’t get it.

  129. No, they really don’t.

    I don’t know what’s wrong with them!

  130. I did try to explain it to him. I may as well have been trying to teach a goldfish to fetch. I.e, he looked at me blankly and then swam off to blow bubbles under a pirate shipwreck*.

    *that last part was not entirely accurate. What he really did was drive off to drink bubbles on his parent’s porch.

  131. Yeah, I think men were more into Babooshka Kate.

  132. Funny you should say that. He was singing Babooska as he drove off.

    • I don’t think you need to worry till he dresses up in her viking outfit. And if he does, he’ll be the perfect date for next year’s Kate Bush Day in Fitzroy Gardens.

  133. Ay yi!

  134. Yah yah.

  135. Meanwhile, Gigantor’s into Techno Swing. Yeah, who knew that was even a thing? Caravan Palace are quite good.

  136. MK is obsessed with Black Veil Brides. I can’t say they’re good (not even ironically), but I can’t criticise as there are probably a few equally-as-embarrassing bubble gum bands on my old teenage mixed tapes. (And possibly a few on my iPod playlist too).

  137. That sounds like a Kill Bill tribute band. I liked The Police as a kid, and I’m not ashamed to say it.

  138. I like the police now. The one who’s moved in across the road has been invisible & silent.
    My kind of neighbour.

  139. We fear the police, a bit. But not The Reaper!

  140. Oh, darling, there’s a Mr Death here. I think he’s come about the hedges.

  141. But i didn’t even have the mousse!

    • Well, that’s cast rather a gloom over the evening, hasn’t it?

  142. Well, you’re dead now, so Shut Up!

  143. I’ve forgotten that entire Monty Python sketch.
    Oh to have a working, lasting memory.

  144. If you can say “la mousse de salmon”, you have nothing to worry about.

  145. One of my delights in parenting has been introducing TGP to Monty Python. He loves all the best bits. Also The Goodies.

  146. With so many TV series being rerun to death, it is a constant source of irritation to me that The Goodies never EVER cops a mention. Bastards.

  147. Like Fawlty Towers, they didn’t make enough of them.

  148. I know! And only 6 episodes per season. At least they replay Fawlty Towers. And The Young Ones. Even Benny Hill! But no Goodies. *sigh*

  149. Why oh why would anyone want to re-watch Benny Hill?

    Damn. Yakkity Sax earworm.

  150. I wish. I have the Lube Mobile jingle stuck in my head. Tell me more, Lube Mobile!

  151. 133032!

    That’s 13-30-32

  152. They’ll fix the car!

  153. Oh God don’t talk about the car.
    I’ve got another 24 hours of the Smash Repair Grunter before I can pick up my C4.
    I miss my car…sniff!
    And yes, who in their right minds would watch Benny Hill?
    Dad had to take a cocktail of at least 12 medications plus beer to find that entertaining.

  154. I loved watching it – but usually because Dave Allen was on right after.

  155. Dave Allen! Yes!
    And I enjoyed Benny Hill too, at least, when I was little.

  156. The Two Ronnies were also a big favourite.

  157. I must be missing the slapstick gene, I did like Dave Allen and some of the Two Ronnies, though.

    I always regretted being considered too young to watch The Box – and does anyone remember Arcade?

  158. There’s a good 3 decades missing from my memory archive so no, no, I don’t.

  159. I wasn’t allowed to watch The Box, but we did watch Number 96. We got our first colour TV the week they aired the big explosion, so I got to see the episode in full, glorious colour. It was magnificent!

  160. Oh, how glorious! My parents were more into improving TV. We saw much of the ABC’s output. They did unbend on Sunday nights for Disney, though.

  161. I loved Sunday night Disney.

  162. Remember sitting on the carpet, hoping it would be a cartoon or something good, and not another lemming documentary?

  163. In my mid-teens, my parents got a tiny TV for their bedroom. It was heaven! Whenever they were watching boring lemming documentaries, we could slob on their bed and watch Bob Santamaria. Or, as we called him, The Chook Man – because he bobbed his head up and down when he spoke, just like a chook pecking corn.

  164. Who or what was Bob Santamaria?

    • Mentor of Tony Abbott, greatly admired by George Pell. Opposed communism and the changes of Vatican II.

      • Brrrkkk Brrrrrrk Brrrrkkkk BRRRRKKKKKAAAAAAA!

      • You lost me at Tony Abbott

  165. Search me.

  166. He was a politician who gave a little speech on TV every Sunday night. I liked him because he always expressed his views with intelligent, supportive arguments.

  167. Intelligent and supportive – you’re SURE he was a polly?

  168. He was one of the rare ones. Like Tim Fischer.

  169. Well, I like his name. As you know, the BVM is my fave. Do you still have that medal we found in Vinnies?

  170. Of course! It’s in my bedside drawer, with my collection of beads. The BVM is awesome!

  171. She really is a great source of comfort. I sometimes look at Gigantor and think about what she must have gone through.

    • At least Gigantor didn’t have a halo. That would have to be painful?

  172. This kid worries me. She just informed me in a deep, suave voice that she was a fox and I was Jemima Puddleduck. Then I was chided for using a grandad voice, not a duck voice. Then I had to make a nest and produce a clutch of play-do eggs. I wish she wouldn’t lick her lips.

  173. Heh, she’s her grandfather’s granddaughter, that’s for sure. My kids weren’t so keen on re-enactments. Instead, they would insist that I read them their favourite books and ‘do’ the voices. Eventually I had to put a stop to it, after the neighbours called DoCS during a particularly spirited reading of The Three Billy Goats Gruff.

    • Lol.

  174. Hehehe. GB, if she offers you any sage and onions, it’s a trap!

    TGP still likes to be read to. His favourite is Agatha Christie, ATM. It makes me apprehensive, all that talk of cyanide.

  175. Arsenic is better. You can disguise the taste more easily.

  176. have you got any recipes? Asking for a friend.

  177. Oh my yes! https://www.dropbox.com/s/c3ug3gc8hcpits7/Murder%20whatdunit.jpg?dl=0

    • Why wasn’t that on my nightstand when I visited?

      • Self-preservation?

  178. Smart man, that Greybeard.

  179. I’m insulted. As if I’d do something so obvious as kill you when there were only the three of us in the house!

    It wouldn’t be fair to Fifi. She has so many motives they’d lock her up without blinking.

  180. Awww, Madam, I wasn’t thinking of you. I was thinking of the GrandEvil. “Here’s your medicine, Jemima Puddleduck.”

    • We should never have bought her that medical kit.

  181. We went into town today, just for a change and to get our steps up. Degraves Lane was overflowing with those pathetic Melbourne coffee addicts getting their fixes and a bazillion tourists. We couldn’t get a seat/cup anywhere! So we went to the Lindt Cafe and I had a mocha and my life was changed.

    The dense layer of froth on top supported a square of dark chocolate and under it was a layer of strongish coffee. But at the very bottom was a layer of just-liquid-enough-to-drink melted dark chocolate. It was so rich and I chased out every drop with a spoon. Because I’m a good husband, I even let Fifi have a sip, which went on for a suspiciously long time. We also came home with strange cheeses, fresh pasta and books. A terrible day.

  182. If you keep posting these Melbourne travelogues to try to lure me back GB, you can stop now. If I turned any greener with envy I’d move into the blue part of the spectrum.

    Catty, I wasn’t thinking of you either. I’d tell you who I was thinking of, but then you’d be an accessory before the fact.

  183. But accessories are a good thing. Who doesn’t love a new handbag, or a flattering hat?

  184. I love the hat you made for me, but now that we don’t have winter do you mind if I turn it into a tea cozy?

  185. I’ve been wondering at the lack of winter down here – perhaps I blinked and missed it while I was distracted all through June with the kitchen install?
    It’s a good deal milder here than Brisneyland but that was one of the motivations to move.
    GB that hot chocolate sounds simply wicked.
    I’d be horribly jealous if the hippies at Bonogin hadn’t put me onto their hippy-barista drinking chocolate, which is the best I’ve ever had.
    We took the hound for a drive down to Bangalow to tour the sites & the farmer’s markets.
    On the way home, after getting horribly lost & arguing about directions (the Bloke insisted I follow Siri’s directions, which led us to a dirt road that dead ended in the cane fields, and resulted in him sulking for the next 30km that I was right & they were wrong, wrong, wrong) we stumbled upon one of those magical Finds.
    We stopped for fuel at Bilambil (Terranora Lakes basically) & we discovered some Appalachians out the back with a wood smoking thingy, filled with piggy.
    We went home with a takeaway container full of pulled-pork & roast veggies, and we made ourselves roast pork rolls with Hippy sourdough from the Burleigh Sourdough bakery.
    Melbourne may have all those exotic eateries but the Bilambil Appalachians sure do know how to smoke their pigs.

  186. Do they also handle snakes and juice their own moons? If so, I might have found a spiritual home.

  187. I didn’t get close enough to see any moons but by the looks of those gathered round the barrel, they’d be happy to oblige.

  188. Hehehe. Are you sure? It’s not like we’re cousins, or anything.

  189. I don’t eat pork. It makes me fart.

  190. But, but …. bacon!

  191. Bacon doesn’t make me fart.

  192. Well, thank goodness for that.

  193. Have you seen this?


    I know what I’m having for breakfast!

  194. God and Jenny Craig help me, I want those cookies.

  195. That sounds horribly wrong.
    Mind, I was just think of making choc chip & macadamia cookies so perhaps that’s a sign I should do that instead of study.
    There’s no point going out as there’s a thick funk of smoke over our hill thanks to back-burning in the reserve behind us, and it’s spread out over the flatlands between us & the ocean. It was stinking up the rooms at uni last night & when I took the hound to Currumbin this morning, I even caught a whiff of it down there.
    Oh well, we knew that at some point, they’d have to back-burn.
    According to twitter they’ll be at it all day today & tomorrow. And then the westerlies should pick up & blow it all away.
    Days like this I thank Cthulu for ducted AC.

  196. I made cheese danishes this morning before work because I had left-over ricotta, from the spinach rolls.

    It was a bit of a rush, but I felt so accomplished it was possibly worth it.

  197. That is a noble effort, MM. I bet the chillun enjoyed that.

  198. Hopefully – I had to leave before they could try them!

  199. Mmmm…. danishes…. Oh, bugger. Now I’m hungry.

  200. Mmm, cheese danishes. We haven’t got PB today (or yesterday) since her whole household has chucks and squirts. So Fifi & Jen did some girly shopping while I got the groceries and stuff. And a salted caramel Belgian chocolate mocha. Which i was still drinking when we all met for lunch. Oops.

    We’ll drop off a care package at the plague-people’s door later and run away quickly. Toddler colds are one thing but bleargh!

  201. Ewwww….. better include a cork or two in that care package. I hope they all feel better soon.

  202. You’re braver than me. I couldn’t drink a mocha while contemplating V & D. Best wishes for a speedy recovery!

  203. Putting caramel in a mocha is a sin. A mocha sin?

  204. I’m not sure if it is a sin, but it seems like a confusion of flavours to me. If you want a caramel choc fudge sundae, just have one.

    And if you’re going to the gelateria, pick one up for me.

    • It may sound odd but I had to stop myself from chugging it and ordering another one. Sooo yummy. Then I got sprung. They’re all better if cautious and a bit tender of the tummy this morning so Friday looks OK for Jen’s birthday not to be a barfday.

  205. I can’t pick up a gelateria. That would be shop lifting.

  206. Boom tish! Catty’s here all week, folks. Try the choc-caramel-mocha-raspberry ripple frappe before it wanders off in a daze.

  207. And then gives everyone the squirts.

  208. But it’s packed with antioxidants. Transient antioxidants.

  209. Antioxidants are good, but antibodies are better. Here’s my favourite recipe for that:

    • I love that recipe!

    • http://www.ediblebugshop.com.au/p/8032165/choc-coated-critter-5-pack.html
      Of course you do, Khan Renfield…I mean, Greybeard, and now you’ve confessed to your tastes, you can expect a family sized snack pack of chilli-garlic crickets from us for Xmas. And if you’re very, very good, we might get you a mouse, or a hamster.

      • Noooooo(pant, pant)oooooooooo!

    • I love that too. But please don’t send me a panther.

  210. I’ll take it, if it’s a Penrith Panther. Oooh those boys have lovely bottoms.

  211. My main interest in AFL – other than when Gigantor is captaining the U16s, obviously, because that would be wrong and also mostly I’m just hoping he doesn’t get his teeth knocked in or something worse – is those tiny, tiny shorts

  212. Mmmm… shorts…

  213. There are semi naked adolescent males all over the beach & the creek when I’m out & about. As they’re harder to train & more annoying than a dog, I can’t say I’d want one of them following me back home.

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