Less than two weeks until the Clan gathers in our formerly peaceful beach town. The shopping’s been done, the seafood has been ordered, now the panicking can commence.
Krampus is coming, dear readers. Pray for my soul, such as it is.
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Fun in a box 
Don’t fret, love. I’m praying for you, so Krampus will have to find another victim. I’m like Immodium for your soul.
Also, pass the prawns. All this praying is making me hungry.
Love the Krampus – now if you could get a Gigantor-sized costume, that might keep the Clan in line?
Have a bug, they’re more rewarding to peel.
Thanks, GB. He says he’s got my back and is prepared for a sister smackdown as might be required. I’m really looking forward to seeing my bro, it’s been too long.
Is it just me, or does that picture look suspiciously like the Wildebeest?
No, I was thinking the same thing. It’s the disturbing rictus and the hairy bits.
Yeah, their tongues have a remarkable similarity, too. Liiiiiiiiiiiiiick!
Hehehehehehe.
Brilliant.
now tell me, what is a Krampus & how do I find one & have it gift-wrapped & sent to my sisters, and another, to be fair, for the in-laws?
A fine old German custom. For naughty boys and girls. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLnl5ZWG4tg
My in-laws are easy to shop for. A carton of wine, a bottle of whiskey, a box of Berocca, and they’re sorted.
Catty, throw in a box of Depends and you’ve got New Year’s sorted as well.
Krampus is like the Anti-Santa. If you’ve been bad he stuffs you in a sack and eats you. Or stuffs you in a sack and feeds you to his wolves. Something Grimm.
I’m pretty sure Cousin will be bringing all the Depends they could want. She arrives next week. I’d better start hunting for that camera.
Speaking of hunting, I braved the horrors of Eastland on Sunday, to try and get that present I wanted for Quokka. After scouring the whole place fruitlessly, I asked some poor, bewildered staff member where the item could be found. He told me that they’d stocked it for ages but it wasn’t selling so they got rid of it. But, but, but, I checked their website and everything! I went home and tried to order it online. It let me get all the way to Checkout before the screen refreshed and it came up with an Out Of Stock message. Bastards.
I’ve found one at another website, though, so I’ve ordered it. They said it will be here by Thursday…. yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it. Quokka, darl, I apologise in advance if your gift is late.
I posted gifts yesterday, so keep an eagle eye out for the Ganga bus, ladies.
I got back home and felt quite smug … then I saw Catty’s pressie still lurking in a corner of my room. Then I felt sad as I’d failed. Then I felt confused when I wondered what I’d actually posted? Then I remembered I was looking at the birthday present which I wasn’t meant to post until a bit later.
Looks like Mum and I are on a race to see who dements first.
I’ll beat you all to it. I’d forgotten I’d bought your presents in August & I was all set to panic that there was nada & I must needs go to the shops. *shudders*
I’ve yet to get to the post office, though, so there’s that hurdle to face yet.
Don’t worry about late gifts – Cheryl at my PO box will keep them all safe & in any case, she said that Aust Post have a new system that is pissing her off no end where they only seem to deliver parcels to the post office once or twice a week. Things used to arrive daily & she’d have time to sort them all out. Now there’s this once a week avalanche & being a part timer, she doesn’t have time to sort it all out.
So whatever any of us send is going to get caught up in their new budget cut avalanche system, and the word is that priority paid doesn’t seem to make any difference with it.
Good to know re Priority Paid … I wonder if Express still does what it says on the box?
No. No it doesn’t. I posted an Express Post and a Parcel Post satchel to two different people in a QLD town, and they both arrived on the same day, 6 days later.
Meanwhile, I’m not as organised as you guys, so I won’t be posting anything until Thursday. *sigh* The Christmas baking will be hardest, as Summer is finally here. Yay for the heat, but boo to using the oven in it.
Catty, you’ve had a terrible year. Your continued existence and correspondence is reward enough. Skip the baking and have another Double V on the couch.
Exactly what MM said, to the postage & the culinary activity. I would much rather know you were content on the sofa eating brownies & vodka slushies than slaving in the kitchen baking for me, or wasting your family budget on me.
I have everything I want in life (bar a pony & a functional family system) and since I seem to be doing just fine without those things, I don’t want your stress induced IBS flare-ups on my conscience.
Besides Catty, things might go stale & get eaten by rats sitting in the fecking Aust Post storage shed.
Did I tell you it took them a month to deliver a bumper sticker with Ducks Crossing Do not **** run them over?
Low effort Xmas is what I want, nay, demand of you.
Now I’m all teary. I loves youse guys! Thank you for being the bestestest friends ever. MWAH!
We love you very much. Also, let’s face it – who else would put up with us? xoxoxo
Anyone with half a brain, that’s who. And I have a whole brain, so I love you twice as much as that.
Speaking of brains, I did an online VCE general aptitude sampler to see how hard it was. I got 100%. Maybe I should think about doing the adult VCE exam? With a Grade 12 equivalency I would have no excuse for avoiding Uni. Other than laziness, of course.
Oooh, what would you study? Don’t do Spanish or I’ll be the odd Anglophone out.
Considering how long you’ve been doing…I mean, helping your children with their homework, I’d say you’d breeze through it, Catty.
What would you like to study?
I have no idea. Is there a doctorate for people who don’t want to talk to anybody or wear pants?
I’m in.
I thought you’d done some uni, Catty. Why do the finals again unless you really want to torture yourself?
If you’re hoping to get current and boost your employability, Uni is probably the last place you want to go, Catty.
Have a think about what jobs you’d like to do, and work backwards from there. You’ll most likely find yourself at TAFE, which is much less expensive and quicker, too.
That’s where I’m coming unstuck. I don’t know what I want to do. I’ve been scouring the Situations Vacant for ideas, and I can’t find anything with Pants Optional in the job description.
Other than strip clubs and exotic masseuse?
Working from home is your answer. Although the more the Boss is cluttering up the home, the more you might find an office quite soothing. They keep saying we need more female coders, are you up to code?
You can come fruit picking with me when Toned Abbs regains his crown & sceptre, Catty.
He’s just announced that bad backs & depression & other pissy mental health issues are no reason for slacking off & such things will be struck off the disability pension.
I’m looking forward to a nice compo package from the gubbermint when I fall out of the apple tree & snap something thanks to um, I don’t know, not being able to climb ladders because of the nerve damage in my foot.
We could be rich, I tell you, Rich!
* Filed under ‘Idiot things said by politicians seeking to curry favour with even bigger idiots in the populace.’
Wow, Tony Boy is waaaaaay behind the times. Turncoat cut all those ‘wussy not-disabilities’ off the list last March. And rightly so. Just because you’re in a wheelchair or have had half your face removed after cancer surgery or are profoundly deaf doesn’t mean you can’t work full time. It’s white welfare at its trashiest, I tell you. Good on you Tones, you tell those bludgers to do an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay, like you do….
….
….
….
Does anyone else feel an overwhelming urge to strangle him with his own swimwear? Or is it just me?
I really don’t want to touch his swimwear. Can’t I just use his entrails? “Man will never be free until the last king is strangled with the entrails of the last priest.”
He also said “Every man has his dignity”. Huh. I have to assume Tony’s fell in the forest, and there was nobody around to hear it.
Huzzah to the entrail strangling! While you’re busy around C7 I shall be bludgeoning him with his own spleen.
I got a letter from Centrelink about Gigantor turning 16. I was surprised to hear that all would be well and we could just carry on, as he was going to school next year. I expected to hear they’d arranged him a marriage to some Liberal-party closet case and to prepare him mentally and groinally for the onslaught.
“An appointment has been arranged for you at Centrelink. Due to funding cuts, you are required to bring your own barrel to bend over. You are advised to wear loose clothing.”
LOL & Snort.
Carry on.
For a “leaner”, I seem very tired from my two jobs and commitments in the community.
I’d be a lifter, but I’ve got a bad back and I’m mildy depressed.
But those are not real things – quick, go and become a politician!
TBH that was my retirement plan. They’ll let me knit during Question Time, right?
I don’t see why not. Your knitting bag shouldn’t count as a Stranger.
Oh, I don’t know. It looks like a sheep, so they might get confused. Or aroused.
BARNABY!!! Mr Speaker, Point of Order!?
I wouldn’t let the family first & one nation senators see your sheepie, Catty. We don’t want them getting excited.
Actually if it’s shaped like a sheep they might mistake it for a One Nation senator and try to make it back some new excrescence of Turnball’s.
LOL. Except I’ve come to view Mal more as a puppet on the strings of the RW nutjobs in the LNP.
#asspuppet
#asstrumpetpuppet
#dangledag
Dangledags, dangledags, dangle all the way
Oh what fun to see him run
From the right wing every dayyyy!
Hey!
If you get a moment GB, perhaps you could reconfigure a Xmas carol to work with the internal combustion in the One Nation Party.
Until we get one sorted, I might just hum along to ‘Anarchy in the UK,’ as that seems to capture it nicely.
Good idea, but I think we should set it to “Deutschland Uber Alles” rather than a carol.
Forget lyrics. I want a Christmas Carol that consists solely of the agonised yelps of MP’s as disgruntled voters stick sharp, pointy implements into their most tender orifices.
More Caligula than Kris Kringle, but sounds great!
Whatever Kris Kringle gift I get, I hope it’s not the same as Zsa Zsa Gabor’s.
Death?
That would be a little Gothic even for my household.
Same. It’s not exactly the kind of thing you can return for a refund if you don’t like it.
It is in Tibet.
Yeah, but spinning the wheel gets so exhausting. It’s like being in a hamster wheel. I don’t want to be in a hamster wheel! I want to be on a sofa. With caek.
I’m so weary I will even take a sofa with no caek.
Spare a thought for Wendy. I just stepped outside to attend the dog on his sniffing rounds & she had a long whine to whoever – the gist of it being that the pool company have told her that her pool won’t be ready by Xmas & at this rate she’ll be lucky to have it by the end of January. Also, there is a sum of money in dispute, so I heard the words ‘Perhaps I should just give them the money.’
That’ll be for the extra day that the crane had to be there.
On three everyone.
‘aaaaaaaaaw,’
Isn’t that sad?
I haven’t got the strength to wade through the threads, but I believe I predicted that never in a million years would it be finished by Christmas.
I reckon she should count it as a win if it’s done before it’s too cold to use.
Yup. Pool contracts are usually 60 – 90 days, depending on the degree of difficulty of the build.
It sounds like she thought they’d be working weekends & public holidays until they had it done.
If she finally ever realizes she’s not the centre of the Universe, she’s going to be bitterly disappointed.
Bitch can’t even.
Hehehe. You’re so ghetto, Catty. You need to spend more time in places that are not Knockers.
I love the look on MK’s face when I talk like that out in public. It’s a mixture of shame and horror at a level that only a 15 year old girl can achieve.
The Millenials in the office taught me a new phrase yesterday, “The old you would have done it.”
I’m looking forward to trotting that out at Christmas.
LOL.
Making biscuits, carry on.
(thinking of the knitting incident, of course)
I don’t have any knitting on the go at the moment. I thought it best all of us go into Christmasageddon unarmed.
I’ve just done half of my Christmas baking. My magnificent ‘Christmas’ cake that stopped being a Christmas cake years ago, when I started replacing the disgusting currants and shit with chocolate chips and nuts; a batch of brownies for tonight’s bring-a-plate; rocky road with jersey caramels, nuts, marshmallow snows, toasted coconut chips and clinkers; and two almond loaves – although I had run out of almonds, so I used mixed nuts for one loaf, and macadamias for the other. I hope the mixed nut one works, because they were toasted and you’re supposed to use raw nuts so you can slice the loaf really thin without the whole thing tearing apart. The macadamia one will work because I stuck a bunch of cocoa in it. It’s too bland without cocoa.
On Saturday I have to make more brownies, slice and toast the nut breads, and make gluten/dairy/egg/sugar/oil/anything-worth-eating-free muffins for that one friend who has convinced herself that she and her children are all intolerant to everything. I’ve had her kids over here when she’s not around, and I can tell you for certain that those poor little buggers aren’t even remotely intolerant to anything. But you can’t tell some people – actually, if Paleo Pete’s following is anything to go by, you can’t tell a lot of people.
MMmmmmmm …. that all sounds divine. But I thought we forbid you from baking? These VV slushies won’t drink themselves.
Exactly. And following our repeated advice about slacking off, I have been acting as the pin-up girl for such as I’ve yet to coast down the hill to post your Xmas presents.
The BOM radar is threatening me with Storm Apocalypse, so I’ll have to get onto that tomorrow.
I got a tad distracted yesterday making rocky road for the vet staff. Still, they were so delighted with it that it was well worth it.
Good thing I did it yesterday & not today as today is really hot & humid. Still, it’s easily 5C cooler here than in Vagus so it’s really very civilised by those appalling standards.
BOM says you’re in for a Stinker, Catty. I’d advise you to step away from the baking pans & let everyone get stonkered & make do with chips & dip.
I’m quite convinced that none of the frantic Xmas cooking that I did was ever noticed or overly appreciated so the hell with that, Xmas can be catered for by the Coals bakehouse from here on.
The Boss wants me to stop all the baking too. He said that nobody likes my cooking. I argued that SIL always says how much she loves my shortbread, and MIL says how much she loves my almond bread, and Mrs T next door says how much she loves my fudge. But apparently their respective husbands have all told the Boss that they’re just being polite and the food goes in the bin as soon as I’m out of sight.
Just what I needed. Another existential crisis to fend off. My delusions aren’t going to survive Christmas intact at this rate.
Catty your almond bread is lovely. It might just be the timing & the excesses of it all. Gone are the days when I can eat whatever I want, and if I ate everything that was pushed on me over Xmas I’d have to spend the next three months going hungry to burn it all off.
There’s just so much damned food at Xmas.
We just came out of the shops at Mudgeeraba & I couldnt’ believe how much crap people had piled into their trolleys.
I keep telling people I just want to eat summer fruit over Xmas & nobody ever believes me, but that’s all I feel like eating at this time of year. I’m sure I can’t be the only one.
Surely you’re exaggerating? You have an enviable figure that many teenage girls would barf for. But I do understand wanting to avoid all the stodgy English winter foods – the only thing my tummy can handle at the moment is water. Anything else and I’m gulping charcoal pills and Nexium down like Tic Tacs.
Catty you’re very sweet, but my feet aren’t all that good for getting around on these days so I just don’t burn it off the way I did when I were a lass. And as I can’t afford to buy new clothes…well..I just can’t be such a glutton any more.
That has to be a lie, Catty – I haven’t tasted your almond bread, but your fudge is exquisite! Don’t listen to the haters.
Q’s right though – let them eat store-bought caek. Or fruit, or Zooper Doopers, or anything you don’t have to prepare.
Testify.
Christmas would be so much easier if everyone would prioritise chilling out over stressing out.
Oh yeah. Lyn’s doing a baked ham because she likes it with the ginger and honey and stuff (so do I) and some salads. I’ll do a couple of pizzas and the rest is cold meats and nibbles. We’re here to have fun, gossip and watch kids open presents, not for fine dining or pigging out.
And I think she’s a bit miffed. There was an RBT trap on Noturnoff Rd again and the bloke just waved her through. I taunted her that she must look ‘respectable’. Heh heh heh.
They would have seen you slumped drooling in the corner & Fifi with the pursed lips & ‘oh he’ll suffer for this, this time,’ look & have formed their own conclusions about who the boozehound in the car is.
Poor Fifi. If you like, I can come and stand in front of your house and glare disapprovingly at her whenever she comes outside? Actually, that won’t work. She’s too adorable to glare at.
Aww thanks Catty.
Son-in-law is in Echuca brewing Bandicoots or something and S is off to town so we’ve got both younglings for the day. No interwebs for me today.
But all the snot!
Tell Fifi this is great news, and she can also indulge in University cigarettes at will, and any pill that she thinks might take the edge of,
Merry Christmas to all Beards, and a Happy New Year xo
And a Merry Christmas to all Felines, Marsupials and Mothers of Super-Villains and confusion to their enemies.
Yea, All That, with mistletoe and those little poisonous red berries that people don’t eat enough of at Xmastime.
Ooops did I think that out loud?
I just went to visit MIL and meet the cousins from Belgium. MIL’s cousin is a wee little lady, very neat, prim and proper. She can’t speak a word of English, but she understands when someone admires her beautiful, beautiful shoes. Her son, however, was a wealth of comedy gold, not least of which because he looks like Lurch. Really, he does! Protruding brow, long face, well over six feet tall…. I have done some serious damage to my tongue, biting it to stop myself from giggling. Then there’s his hair…. what there is of it. He had some form of alopecia, and his hair is growing back in random tufts. That’s not funny at all, until he mentions that his wife is a hairdresser. Ow, my poor tongue!
Christmas is going to be a hoot!
Mistletoe is poisonous? Where can I get some??
Oh Catty I’m jealous! No, not really. Spent the afternoon with my brother and his family and it was tops. It’s so weird, looking at him and he’s a middle-aged man but none of us have really changed much at all. Took John (youngest nephew) to the beach and we splashed around a bit. Three dogs=one happy wolf pack.
One sleep until S Day.
That sounds wonderful, Madam.
“The land may vary more;
But wherever the truth may be-
The water comes ashore,
And the people look at the sea…..”
It’s almost impossible to be angry and irritable on a beach, isn’t it? I’m glad you had a good day.
Yes, indeed. It’s a travesty that I don’t get down there more often. More beach time is my NYR.
I’d say the same, but it usually involves a long, sticky car trip with bickering kidlets, so I’ll probably just go with something boring like losing weight or giving up the ciggies or some equally inane resolution I won’t bother to keep.
I don’t make resolutions. What would I need to change?
This is why I think pills are the go for Fifi
i will resolve to give up cigarettes. Just because I haven’t had a drag in more than 10 years doesn’t make me a non-smoker.
Lurch is a smoker. I think the poor boy is in for a bit of a shock when he runs out of his cheap Belgian fags and has to buy the severely taxed Aussie ones. They cost over three times as much here. He could have bought over enough to last for six weeks, but his luggage was already half full of diabetes shots. Five injections a day! And no pav for Christmas lunch! Poor bugger.
5 injections a day and he SMOKES???!!!
He won’t live to have to afford a new packet. Poor Lurch.
Oh, he’s not dying all at once. Just a bit at a time – starting with his toes.
All I want for Christmas is not gangrene.
Urk.
Those of you who are on FB and want a laugh should check the new sandpit parts, all laid out ready for assembly. My dear wife laughed raucously and asked whose idea it had been.
Hehehehehehe.
Merry Christmas all my darling friends! So far for Christmas I have received a midnight migraine and insomnia, then the gift of a cool change and morning shower … and a dragon-scale handbag!
Catty it is divine and perfect and you shouldn’t have but thank you so so much! We’re having lunch only in pants because we’ve got to have boardies on to use the pool at my sister’s resort, so it is a bit over dressed, but I shall not take it off my shoulder all day. Love it and love you – mwah!
Q, in absentia you are giving me the gift of being the snarky voice in my head, amusing me with comebacks so I don’t have to make my own out loud and start a war. One day to go!
‘Snark, the Herald Angels Sing, Screw Ewe All, and pass the pig,’
Just keep inventing new & improved lyrics to the carols & you’ll get through the day without impaling any eyeballs on the wide-pronged turkey fork.
I saw GBs efforts on twitter & I fear the sandpit won’t be ready in time for the cat to shit in it before the toddlers jump in. Now where’s the fun in that if nobody gets to wrestle peristaltis improved fancy feast out of a toddler’s jaws on C-day, I ask you?
Happy Xmas all.
I will check in later so you can recount the carnage.
The Bloke is off to his parents for lunch & I plan to sit here watching my Star Trek DVD in the peace of the AC, and then I might make snickerdoodles, because the Canadians want us to have coffee with them soon.
Very brave of them considering I warned them what terrible human beings we are and that we are the Worst Neighbours Ever.
Wouldn’t that be Snarkadoodles? Boldly go, Q – I hope you get this stonking storm we’re currently enjoying xoxoxo
snarkerdoodles…heheheheheheheheheh…
We have stonking here. 38ºC ATM. No storm though.
Madam, you are amazing for remembering how much I love Bouchée! I was hoping the Belgian cousin would bring some with her (it’s sold in supermarkets over there) but she didn’t. Who cares! I have a box of my own! And I have sloths! My own little box of deadly sins! You are wonderful, darling girl, and I love you with all of my heart. MWAH!
Aaaand it’s over for another year. How did everyone go? Are we all happy and cheerful this morning?
I think I had the best Xmas ever because I spent the morning on the creek.
And again this morning.
There were bogans down there running their generators on the beach in order to power their fridges, freezers, microwaves & whatever other white goods are indispensable for a day at the creek, but my Lahui Kai goes very very fast so I was out of earshot within moments, and Into The Zen Zone.
So, how’s the sandbox, ready for the cats yet?
Happy as a weasel (to nick M’s phrase). Sandbox has been pronounced playworthy and the roof/lid fits nicely so no cat or possum poo. We didn’t overeat or overdrink (amazing how motivating a wee heart problem can be, even for the very dim) and everyone was happy (see FB pic). And the t-shirt! The awesome, wonderful t-shirt of Cthulhu. Changed my mind – Madam M should totally show TGP so he turns green with envy.
(Also there was a Sylvanian car full of tiny bits.)
I love the Sylvanian car! MK got the car/caravan set a few years ago, and promptly dropped the pin-sized cutlery on the carpet. Of course. Not all of them could be found. On a positive note, teaspoons the size of the average cake sprinkle aren’t likely to choke any little brothers who may inadvertently swallow them.
We’ve got cars backed up along our street. It’s all Boxing Day shoppers trying to avoid the rage-fest that is Westfield car park. I walked over to see what all the fuss was about and ended up buying far more stuff than I should have. Admittedly it was stuff I would have had to buy at some point (swimwear for the kidlets, etc), but at low, low prices. Not as low as the retailers would have us believe, but I did save a fair bit. Some shops were doing that thing where they put the price up, then ‘discount’ it to its original price. Rude!
I’m glad you’ve all had a good Christmas too. Love and happiness!
Nicely wrangled, peoples.
The uni folk keep telling me I need to do facebook so I might have to join the damned thing this year so that we can study together.
*shudders*.
Meanwhile, thank Smurf for boxing day.
You can feel the palpable relief in the air, from everyone.
Lovely time of year, this, the wind-down after the turkey fest.
You’ll hate Facebook. It’s arse coated in arse, but the occasional good post makes it all worthwhile. Like when Lori posts pictures of her trips, or when the Scribe puts up a picture of his sacrificial Christmas bird. Mmmm…. sacrifice….
It was a slightly burnt offering.
Well huzzah peeps, we made it. No arguments, everyone happy and well fed. Aunt RV brought down two orphaned brushtails and a 3 month old wallaby so the highlight of TGP and my day was being amateur wildlife carers.
I’m very happy for Mother. She got the merry matriarchal Christmas of her dreams.
Q, the key to Facebook is this. Just scroll past stuff that irritates you. People’s pages are like those corkboards many of us had in our teen bedrooms. Some peoples will be consistently interesting. Some people will have a few things worth a moment of your time, amongst a whole lot of vaguebooking and recipes for sweaty nutsack flavoured bliss-balls and science denial. And some people will just have misspelled KKK themed rants and monster trucks. There’s little point in engaging with idiots, and those you cannot abide you can always unfriend.
FB isn’t so bad for me since the Purge. Anyone pro-Trump or One Nation has gone, along with RWNJ’s, gun-nuts, Men’s Rights Activists, racists and so on. I really only want to stay in touch with family and friends anyway, though I foolishly post stuff I’m passionate about at times. Less often since I remind myself that it’s utterly pointless and won’t change a single mind. I no longer frequent Cheeseburger Gothic for the same reason. It’s swamped by climate change deniers, ‘nuke everybody’ enthusiasts and libertarians.
Madam, stop describing my Facebook feed to Q. You’ll scare her away. Actually, some of that science denial stuff is pretty accurate. And scary. Did you see that terrifying post about dihydrogen monoxide? That stuff is terrifying! No way am I having such a dangerous chemical compound in my house, accelerating corrosion and causing suffocation – it’s fatal if inhaled! And this stuff is in all our city’s pipes! If it weren’t for Facebook, I would never have known about this horrible threat.
Monster trucks?
Why has no-one told me this before.
You were studying and we’re all very considerate?
There are also many, many cat videos.
LOL.
I’d say I’m In, but I’ve got twitter for that.
So many. And memes for days.
It’s much better for the academically afflicted than Twitter, trust me – it’s not so presence-in-real-time dependant. It’s really easy to catch up with stuff from a day or more ago.
Not everything that is popular completely sucks.
Agreed. LK just discovered on Facebook that it is possible to post a potato in America. Now he’s adamant we must find a suitable spud to send to his grandfather.
Urban dictionary: ‘Spud: a boy whose balls have not dropped yet’.
Am I missing something here?
I certainly was. That changes everything. I’m going to have to look for spuds at the park instead of the greengrocers.
This raises more questions. Do they just whack a stamp on it so it comes dirt-encrusted and ready to scrub and mash? Is it a seed potato, which might be more useful? Do they do Desirees for Valentine’s?
At this time of year they probably just stick feet on it & let it walk to it’s destination. it’d get there faster under it’s own steam than by travelling Aust Post.
Mmmmm…. steamed potatoes….
I literally haven’t seen a postman for 2 weeks. I think they’re surfing.
I fondly imagine a secret Christmas gathering, where all the Posties converge to smoke the suspicious plants found in the dead letter office, to play pass-the-express-post-parcel, and to have burnout competitions on their bikes.
ROFLMAO
So, kind of like a drug-fuelled Covert Santa? Sounds like fun. Maybe I should start tuning the local postie, to angle for an invite.
I’ll be looking for work in a month. If I score a job at Australia Post, I’ll take you to the Christmas booze-up as my plus one.
Catty, I bought a beach frock from one of those pop-up rack stands at the local shopping mall this am & she said she’s selling her business on gum tree & there is a good living to be made from doing that.
She’s moving to Sydney & is going into business with her daughter running a home-based child-care thing & she’s about to sell all her racks & leftover hippy clothes on gum-tree. So if you are interested in buying her stuff & doing a start-up – well, I can pass on her details.
This is pretty much what Janet Leach did for years – she had a stall at the weekend markets & an online business, which she ran from home & she just sent people whatever they ordered.
She made a really good living from that, I still reckon you should talk to her about whether you could make a go of it.
It’s worth a crack. Or if not frocks, some niche. Plenty of people at our markets just do a few markets a week. The problem is the initial capital outlay. The beauty part is being your own boss. And knocking off at lunchtime, usually.
Hmmmm… I’d have to give it some serious thought – my initial reaction is to ask many questions regarding suppliers, business laws, tax implications, storage requirements, advertising, etc etc.
If I went for it, it would be home-based only. Not only are the local markets over-saturated with hippie clothing thanks to our high Chinese immigrant population, I’m not physically capable of manning a stall for more than a couple of hours without needing to poop. Also, I despise humanity so I’d be tempted to fling that poop at my customers until they went away.
That’s very thoughtful of you, Quokka. Yes, please send her details so I can interrogate her. You’re a sweetie for thinking of me!
The customer is always pooped? “If you have any poop, fling it now!”
“Just smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave.”
MM, do you still have Janet’s FB contact deets? I don’t think she tweets any more & she has changed her name to ‘Beth’. If not I’ll fish out the link to her real estate agent contact thing.
I’ll talk to the market lady when next we’re down there – probs tomorrow.
Meanwhile, we are off down the creek before the tourarists wake up.
Happy fridaying, everyone!
Well, online means all of the above advantages plus no pants!
OK, I’ve heard some people make a killing buying stuff in op shops and on-selling it on eBay. You need a strong digital brand. Much less capital outlay here, the kids can whip you up a logo etc.
Huzzah the ganga bus has arrived! Q, many thanks. There is much here to keep me warm. I’ll make some cocoa and drool at firemen. Just appro pro of nothing, can you start a fire making cocoa? It would be such a shame if Mr January had to visit.
The Boss was watching Embarrassing Bodies last night, and they had a whole station full of firemen strip down to do a demonstration on how to do a testicular self-examination. Interesting. Especially the bit where they showered first.
Mmm … what channel is that on, and what’s the URL for catch-up?
Asking for a friend.
hehehehehehe.
And glad to hear it, MM.
I still haven’t been to my PO box. The neighbour warned me that the road into it is so badly clogged it took him over thirty minutes to get from here to Bunnings. Which is a trip of 10 minutes, on an ordinary day.
Next week when it’s raining I’ll go down at 6am one day so I can see Cheryl, before the great tide of humanity washes out of their holiday homes & start clogging up the roads.
It airs on Gem (channel 92). Thursday nights from 9:30 to 10:30. It’s funny to watch people say how they’re so embarrassed by their problem that they can’t even show their partners, then they strip off and show the entire world on the telly.
Yeah, I don’t get reality TV. When I slump in front of the telly I want to be taken as far away from reality as I can voyage!
YES. One million times yes. I want galaxies far, far away – not the Real Housewives of Werribee.
Wait, what? That really is a show? I thought someone was making a sick joke.
But…but…what am I missing here, I thought all reality TV was meant to be a sick joke.
I’ve heard that the networks all have psychologists on board in the auditions for those things to screen for personality disorders. If you’ve got a particularly interesting one, hallelujah, you’ve got a job & a paycheck & a guaranteed following in the Australian Women’s Weekly.
Well, it’s nice to think they can get PDs out of our offices, because they are hella annoying to work with.
When I were a lad, the only place unemployable people could find work was in the public service. Isn’t it nice to see their prospects have improved?
So much so that they’ve made it to the Senate.
See? Even moronic, closed-minded, arrogant narcissists can get rich and get their pictures in the paper!
1/ I’m not rich.
2/ My picture hasn’t been in the paper since the 80’s.
You’re not a moronic, close-minded arrogant narcissist either.
Does court listings count as “in the paper”?
What the hell happened to my lovely mild Christmas? It’s hotter than the Sun here.
Or do you think i’ts all my menopause all at once?
I think Cthulu is punishing us for the Seppos sending Trump to the whitehouse & the world to hell, & as retribution, the whole planet has been shot into the sun, at pace, Australia side up.
I’ll see your Trump and raise you a Turnbull. Have you seen his latest attack on pensioners? He’s only just cut 90,000 of them off the aged pension (Merry Christmas!), and now he wants to include personal possessions like iPhones and wedding rings in their assets test. If the Grey Army ever resolve to storm Parliament House and beat him to death with their walkers, I’d gladly volunteer to drive the bus.
I’ll keep them on track and coach them on which of his bits are most vulnerable.
Wedding rings? Oh good grief. Yet they really, really want to get these business tax cuts through. That’s all you ever hear when they’re being interviewed on the ABC. Even when it’s a story about health care or education or something. Pricks.
More business cuts? Seriously? Bugger driving the bus. Somebody hand me a walker.
I haven’t listened to the ABC much lately, but I’ll have to google that.
Pricks, indeed.
I seriously don’t mind tax cuts for the wealthy and for big business. What I mind is when they fund those cuts by slashing welfare and infrastructure budgets. I know people who can’t afford to run their heaters in winter, and regularly have to choose between food or medicine because they just don’t have the money for both. Meanwhile the big banks get an extra $800k a year to add to their $4b quarterly profits.
Actually, that’s probably unfair. The company tax cuts aren’t really costing our government anything – big businesses don’t actually pay any tax, and a 4% reduction of zero is still zero. If Turnbull ever got off his chuff and chased those buggers for taxes, the budget would be in surplus within a year.
Catty for PM!
Good maths there. I can see where the kidlets get it from.
Maths, this early in the morning, what are you trying to do to me?
I have a distant relative who is an economist. He makes buttloads of money and advises big corporations how to do the same. I hate him. He really is abhorrent – smug and contemptuous of the poor, just like our politicians. Thank goodness he is too busy travelling the world to attend any family gatherings, because somebody (probably me) would end up smacking his mealy little mouth when he climbed up on his “The poor have nobody but themselves to blame” soapbox.
I’ll give him someone to blame!
We do need a new scapegoat, the old one had that nasty reaction to the tinsel & the LED xmas lights. Who knew they’d catch fire?
Oh noes, not the scapegoat? Now who will the Wildebeest take out clubbing as his designated driver?
Actually, I’ve got a plan for that. With the new lockout laws unlikely to proceed, there are going to be munted people staggering all over the Valley trying to get home so they can spew on the carpet and then pass out. So much nicer than a gutter.
How about we find him a rickshaw on Gumtree, design an app and turn him into Wildeber?
Or we could just mug one of the green cab drivers down at South Bank & install him on the bike seat of one of those.
Beast-Cabs inc.
Our slogan could be ‘Wild night out? Feeling a bit hairy? Not to worry. We’ll get you home.’
You’re a marketing genius, Q!
We can offer cut-price laser hair removal as cross-promotion and incentive.
hehehehehe. Looking down at my legs at this moment, I could use me some of that.
If they could do it with light sabers I’d go to a clinic just to hear that “zzzing, zzzzing!”
There’s an app for that.
An app, or a Zap?
A lightsaber app? Finally, the motivation I need to buy a smart phone!
You might need to outfit the family with the real thing, given that they’ve sighted a crocodile in Coolum Creek.
Consensus is that was likely a large goanna having a bath. Although we had one of Gigantor’s mates over last night, and they are both convinced (a) it was a migratory saltie, and (b) it won’t stop them kayaking and fishing on, and camping by, Coolum Creek.
I asked them what their croc evasion plan was and AG smiled and said, “We have lots of knives”.
Arrrrggggggggggggggh! Don’t I have enough reasons to be tense, already?
It was probably just the dwarf trying out the crocodile skin wetsuit I bought him for Christmas.
Oh, what a good idea. A bit of fresh outdoor activity, to get his mind off all that badger sex.
Now I really want a croc shaped wetsuit. Oh the fun we could have…
You’re right it is a genius idea. Catty, I think we’ve hit on your home-based business!
It appears Forrest Galante has beaten me to it:
http://www.stuff.co.nz/business/85609105/scaly-suit-wins-over-crocs
Damn Un Zudders, stealing our genius ideas. Still, his is only fooling crocs. I think GB and I were thinking of one to terrify people.
You know, I’m not sure that’s possible any more. Most people I know started off being born in public health system hospitals, grew up with Mattel, Disney and paedophiles, spent their young adult lives watching Saw, Nightmare on Elm Street and Child’s Play, spent their mid-years attempting to negotiate the fallout from Keating’s recession while trying to crack into the real estate market, and working under Howard’s employment contracts before going home to TV shows like Big Brother and Today Tonight, and have spent the last four years playing increasingly violent video games that don’t even come close to the violence on the six oclock news… and now? They’ve just seen Trump elected as POTUS. I think we’d be hard pressed to find anybody who isn’t completely desensitised to terror of any kind.
If they were all able to live with TGP, they’d be able to experience the eldritch thrill of an arcane creep-out on an almost daily basis.
But yes, on the whole I think you make an excellent point. That’s why people just want lols and pyjama pants.
And drugz. Moar Vodka/Valium slushies, plz.
All the drugz!
Share? (‘ (‘
Of course. But not by post I think that’s a federal offence.
Carrier pigeon it is then.
The glass vials will be too heavy. Carrier wombat!
Carrier Croc.
They can ferry it down to Victoria on the slow march south.
Why crocodiles will never make it to Melbourne: http://picture-cdn.wheretoget.it/2l5e7m-i.jpg
Funny you should mention luggage in Melbourne. Remember that see-through suitcase we saw in a laneway?
See through suitcases? Bugger that for a lark. It’s bad enough when airport security laugh at my frillies without all the other passengers joining in.
We concurred that you’d have to be very confident. But it was amazing!
They often make luggage in sets – toiletry bags, carry bags, cases etc.
You’d have to be either very OCD or very confident to have a hand-bag or a purse that was see-through. Although it probably would make it easier to find all the annoying bits and bobs that sink to the bottom.
Hey y’all, thanks for the lovely pressies.
I had only just opened them when the dog collapsed so I’m just getting to kick back & appreciate them, now.
Catty your brownie tin looks to be quite an efficient little beast – I had just set out Morgana’s ‘Star Baker!’ Bookmark in my Mary Berry book at the Brownie’s page when chaos erupted. So you know I’ve got plans to get busy with those.
How well do you guys know me – thanks, both of you.
Mwah!
The delayed timing was ideal, in the end. Glad to be a ray of light in the darkness.
Right, about to gird my loins for another 8 hours. How do people do this every week? It’s not humane!
It’s all a matter of motivation.
for instance, I’m feeling highly motivated to send the bloke back to work next week so we can afford something like this:
http://www.realestate.com.au/property-house-qld-tallebudgera-123875994
Darling Quokka, the thing we most want to give you right now is a hug – and possibly a couple of willing taste testers for the brownies. Oh, that’s right, Morgana’s at work. *sigh* I’m going to have to take over her share of the taste testing duties, aren’t I? Oh, well. It’s a dirty job but someone’s got to do it.
Oooh, I do love a bit of open plan. How spacious and airy!
All the work and no brownies. Sulk. But then again one of my besties is coming up tomorrow and we’re going to Eumundi markets tomorrow, so perhaps I should not sulk too hard.
It seemed a little odd that the front stairs protruded out onto the driveway. If I lived there, my car would need a wheel alignment every month from the Boss (ahem *me*) constantly driving over the edge of the bloody stairs.
Gorgeous location, though. And that ceiling in the living area!
Probably the angle of the camera shot, Catty, as the stairs weren’t in the way at all.
It’s lovely, but far too big for us – stairs up to the top level where the master bedroom sits. It has a horse paddock that overlooks the east facing deck so that would be nice, but meh. I don’t want a house that big, I’ll leave it to the families who want their kids to grow up with horses & chooks & such.
It really was rather fabulous, howsumdever, Casa Q here at Pleasantville is a much more manageable size.
We have space for chooks here. It’s called an oven.
hehee.
You bad, Catty.
It really was a lovely house, and the views over the hills were glorious.
It’s sooooooo hot today! If anyone has a spare Margarita, I’ll be in the pool. Bring a towel.
Stay cool, Catty.
We’ve got a 22knot ESE howling through the house, which means it’s a lovely temperature here.
Imma make brownies, wish me luck!
Good luck! As if someone with your consummate skill needs luck…
The pool was magnificent. The sunburn, not so much.
Aw, thanks Catty but the credit goes to Mary Berry.
Good thing you can’t see what the skin doc did to me with the cryogun, or you’d feel even worse about your lobstering.
The weather in Eumundi was breezy and pleasant, but for some reason by the time we came back home it had transmuted to quite warm, but still breezy luckily.
So we unboxed Cards Against Humanity to play with our Vegas Visitors.
It was quite rude, even by our lax standards.
We haven’t touched any games since the Family Feud fiasco.
The Bloke is much occupied trying to finish his WASGIJ before he returns to work tomorrow. I’m amazed the cats haven’t mangled it.
CAH? That looks blurry awesome. Where’d you find that, MM?
My sister gave me it for Christmas! It must be an Australian version, though, because you can play Vegemite.
https://store.cardsagainsthumanity.com/
The zero-references-to-Donald-Trump is comforting, but I see no such guarantee about Kardashians.
We haven’t drawn Kardashians yet, although Nicholas Cage was played.
Your sister can’t be all bad if she can produce such a treasure.
That looks like shirtloads of fun, MM.
Is there much mirth to be had from it? Looks like it.
Yes, it was most amusing. And ridiculously easy to play, not at all complicated.
We plan to have a performance-enhanced match with some of our work mates, I’ll let you know the outcome.
Heh heh heh… performance-enhanced… sounds like a hoot!
Picturing you including case files of repeat offender deadbeats amongst the answer cards, for extra giggles.
There are blank cards in the extension box. I assume so you can do just that. It’s genius, really. I wish we’d thought of it!
We probably did. It disturbs me how often we come up with some brilliant idea and then a couple of months later I see an article about someone getting rich doing just that. It wouldn’t surprise me if we have a stalker. A very business-savvy stalker.
Hmmm … are we really that interesting? If so, curses you savvy stalker and where is our cut?
I sometimes wonder about these people who come forward and say they wrote a song that got someone else rich 20 years earlier. Why didn’t they come forward then?
With many of them I think the answer might be found in the dregs of a bucket bong, and/or a puppy pile of cast-off groupies.
I hate puppy piles of cast-off groupies. They leave dreadful stains on the carpet.
And keep whining for someone to love them.
Looooooove Meeeeeeeee!
Well, I will love you. But none of the hangers-on.
They all have fleas & kennel cough. Although that could be from the bucket bongs.
I wish there was a pile of groupies here now. I’d take a nap on them.
Move over. I’m sleepy.
Yawn. And I just woke up, I’m so old I can only barely remember how much energy I had in my 20s. Studying full-time, working part-time and clubbing 4 or 5 nights per week.
Not to mention the whoring around.
I hear you. If it wasn’t for coffee, I’d have to stick a battery up my arse just to make it to lunch time.
I love the mornings, and if I didn’t have other plans I’d be out on the creek on my SUP right now.
I’ve got a friend coming down from Brisbane for a play date – lunch at the beach.
The only downside being that I need to clean my filthy house – urk.
Ha! I’ve seen your house and can’t imagine it reaching my standards of “filthy”.
Oh you kids! But yeah, I bailed out of the child minding early yesterday. Two horrible night’s sleep and a couple of days of heavy lifting were a bit much. Sandy got her work done and J was home to look after the littlies so I didn’t feel too bad. Nana naps are great. So are the monsters so I sent cute photos to Fifi to gloat. Heh heh.
How is Fifi’s Mum? And also, you’d better not have the house looking like an orgy at the watchmaker’s guild when she gets home, GB.
Thanks MM. She’s definitely improving, doing more things every day and going for short walks. Fifi and her sister (3-cert nurse) were very unimpressed with her doctor. He gabbled off a lot of stuff referring to side effects, using the wrong proprietary names for drugs and was generally completely unhelpful. Had told F’s mum she’d “had a good innings” when she first came in. Jerk!
Luckily the daughters are good note-takers and researchers and found which drugs he’d been talking about, actual effects and side effects, interactions etc. An elderly and confused patient on her own would have no chance of hearing anything but ‘blah, blah, blah’.
And hey! I’m proper house-trained I am. She could walk in now and not notice anything wrong. (If I distracted her.)
Around here, the only distraction that would work is brownies. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t really distract Fifi, but they might encourage her to pretend.
If you’re planning to distract her with lewd acts, I’d make a new plan.
Hah! Clearly you have never seen my “Dirty Dancing” routine.
(Video available on payment of a small fee)
You can leave your hat on…. and for goodness sakes put on some pants!
It’s been so damned hot here that I’d be quite pleased if you’d start Singing in the Rain.
Thankfully BOM have revised the forecast & are promising a downpour on Sunday.
Still, it’s not enough.
Stupid hoomid climate.
We’ve been down at Kingscliff sitting in the surf club on the beach, watching the waves, and it was simply glorious down there with the sea breeze kicking off the ocean.
I know I keep saying it but OMG this is just such a magical part of the world.
It sounds idyllic. If I didn’t have a pool I’d be totes jealous.
If I didn’t have a sea breeze I’d be jealous of the surf club and the pool.
Catty, I scurried away from work just in time to post you your personalised calendar. I’m sorry there also wasn’t enough time to get to Coles to pick up some noms, but I wonted you to enjoy as much of Mr January as you could. There is also a pair of tweezers shaped like a lady. You will be thinking that I put those in because you have a beard to rival the Wildebeest’s. Not at all. If you look closely, you’ll see the lady is wearing a tiara. It’s a start!
I told my kidlets that I am the Queen Bee. They don’t have to be told what the Bee stands for.
I’m so sorry I screwed up with your Calendars, I really didn’t want you being jealous of each other’s clandestine firemen lovers.
‘s o.k. I think it was the same phone number on both. Hmmmm…. what shall I set fire to?
Well we haven’t had decent rain in a while up here, so NTO’s garden is probably looking a bit dry.
Would you like accelerant with that?
What, like Keen’s curry powder and a deep fat fryer? Deal.
LOL.
We can probably find some paint stripper, too.
Mmm … deep fat fryer. Actually, when we helped friends move they tried to give us one and I said NO!
Some of you may remember what Gigantor manged to do with a microwave and a Pizza Pocket. I may not like doing housework, but I like having it as an option, rather than just a damped down pile of ashes.
There was a chip-tray sort of thing from a deep fryer in the bottom of the skip when it arrived. And a bottle of baby oil. Make of that what you will…
But the chip thing looked shiny and new. Somebody really didn’t want it.
House. Work. Housework. Ummmm….. Nope. Sorry. You’ve lost me.
I’ve lost myself, too. Friends visited from Brisbane last weekend and I think they wanted to stage an intervention rather than go to Eumundi Markets.
It is now genuinely FAR TOO HOT to be filling skips so the great turf out might have to be in autumn, now.
We promised ourselves a cleanout that would require a hard rubbish pickup before the end of the school holidays. Given that I still haven’t bought the kidlets’ textbooks and stationery, there is only one response to that:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!
And good luck with that.
My GF that was supposed to visit yesterday didn’t get here because she spent the entire day at office works trying to get all that crap photocopied & bound.
As far as I know, she’s still there.
Oh I really am full of feels for her. Tell her cutting and running involves next to no paperwork.
Also no child support, but you know, who needs the drama?
Many, many hours of scouring for bargains later, and I have managed to purchase all but three of their textbooks, and it’s only cost me $800! I’m so proud of myself. Of course, those last three textbooks will be the killer. If I have to pay full price I’ll be up for another $260, but hopefully I’ll get the ones I’m stalking on eBay and I won’t have to pay that much.
Now I just have to get school shoes and stationery, a few uniform items, and back-to-school haircuts. Anybody want to by a kidney?
Do you have one with sprinkles & chocolate chips?
Mmm … sprinkles.
Well, here’s my top tip – if you all manage to get arrested, with a full head of lice each, the State might give you free haircuts before you get bailed out. Try infringing on a weekend.
That, or get them all to go the Biff in Office Works, & it can’t be hard to start a gold old western style saloon brawl in there at this time of year.
After all, ER has clippers, & nurses waste no time getting rid of extraneous hair.
You had to mention nits. *scritchscritchscritchscritchscritch*
I haven’t had nits since we left West End.
Ticks, OTOH, have been out in horrifying numbers this summer. Everyone I meet seems to have a tick story, and most do not end well.
Madame Tussauds told me that they lost their kitten (well, he was 9 months & very lovely) to a paralysis tick, and she found one crawling up her arm as she was standing at the sink doing the dishes.
I can’t remember – did I tell you or someone else that she’s lost some chickens & a couple of guinea pigs to the resident python? Unsurprising since the garden is so tropical & lush over there & as we all know, if you have chickens, you have rats, and if you have rats, you have snakes.
I’d much rather have Mr. Python than his friends the Eastern Browns.
Oh poor kitten. That’s not a nice way to go.
Speaking of pythons, Mum took a photo of one leisurely digesting a chook. This in in Inmost Toowong, as you know. They used to be more at risk from Father’s chancy rescue dogs, than our scaly brethren.
I’ll have to see if I can get her to send it to me. GB likes to keep up with his serpent friends.
It would be preferable to the video of FIL eating a whole chicken. One day they will die and I will claim their home movies and upload them all onto Youtube.
A whole chicken?! Did he do it all at once, like the python, or piece by piece like a person?
If it was that entertaining I’m thinking Chicken Suppository.
Think of a two year old standing on a stool at the kitchen bench, unsupervised. He always offers to share, and nobody ever takes him up on it.
Erk. No whole chicken for us, this week.
On the upside, now we all know a recipe we won;t be trying – Poulet Belgique.
In their house, it’s more like Coq au Vin. Everything there is au Vin.
So if it’s a liquid lunch, is it Vin Au Vin?
Yep, and if they run out, they drink fuel. Vin Diesel.
Out!
It’s a cask wine, it’s La Boite de Vin.
We (seriously) had a wine bottling at church and I did the labels. Mortal Vin and Venial Vin.
That’s why we love you, GB.
So a pub crawl would take us down a long and wining road, then?
There’s more than just her face that Eleanor Rigby keeps in a jar by the door.
If I thought it would keep the god-botherers away I’d keep spare body parts in a jar by the door, too.
Put enough moonshine in your jar and you won’t care who comes knocking.
Watch it. Keep moonshine by the door and you’ll end up with my in-laws visiting waaaaaaay more often than is healthy.
I’m more the type to keep a fully loaded chamber pot by the door, Catty.
And that’s why we love you so well.
So that’s like, “at all”, Catty?
Actually, they’re very sociable people. It can take up to half an hour before the wine kicks in and the host realises he’s made a huge mistake.
Sounds like my 21st, actually.
LOL.
Sounds like my 18th.
I can’t remember what happened at my 18th. I probably spent it swotting.
I spent my 18th being kicked out of clubs for not having i.d. Ironic, as I’d been clubbing nightly for at least 3 months straight, and nobody even asked for i.d then. Stupid bouncers.
My friends got me a male stripper. Gross, but they enjoyed it.
I haven’t seen that for ages! Hilarious! The Holeproofs-down-the-jeans look always did amuse me.
I don’t know if it’s the camera angle, but it’s a curiously globular bulge.
Suspiciously hamsterish.
Ooooh, it never occurred to me that it might be a hamster! I hope it was.
For the hamster’s sake, I hope it was gym socks.
Speaking of hamsters, what ever happened to Richard Gere?
I wouldn’t like Tibet on it, but I’m guessing he’s at the pet store.
LOL.
You are all so very, very bad.
Hey, we’re not the ones sticking gerbils in our butts!
And not me. I’m good. Very, very good.
…at making pizza. Yes. In some others ways of goodness inquiring minds have valid questions, GB.
Mmm….pizza. We might have to stop in at the Man On The Bike in tally tonight for one of his garden gourmet supremes….yummo.
Thank you. Now I have pizza envy. (*stomps off muttering rude things loudly over the deafening stomach rumbles*)