December 2007


……..I reflect on the year passed.

A Whoa Nelly Fuck-me-dead kinda year.

The year started badly. Really really badly.

And got steadily worse.

But I don’t want to dwell on it. I will just say that MPS is a lucky fucker that I didn’t stab him in the eye with a fork while he slept. Cause that woulda taken some es-plaining. ‘Sorry officer, I was eating steak in bed and I kinda slipped….oh, what’s that? You read my blog and know that I have only ever cooked steak once in my life and did it in a fit of channeling June Cleaver? Well, I was cutting the steak up for my husband, who is bleeding from the eye socket over there….. who am I kidding? Slap those handcuffs on me baby, here use mine, they match my shoes…..’

But I did a lot of running the cold tap while he was in the shower….. bwaaaa haaaa haaaa

So I will think about the coming year. The kick-arse-fan-freaking-tastic Year Of Kelley.

No resolutions. My family resolve every year to break my resolutions, bastards, so here is some for them. Entitled:

Chez Magneto Bolds 10 Commandments.

1. Thou shalt not sit on the toilet with the door open, fan off, and use all the fucking paper without replacing the roll.

And no freaking using-up-to-the-last-square-and-then-ripping-some-off-the-new-roll- so-you-don’t-have-to-replace-it shit. Or I will whip you with the toilet brush. Just after I have cleaned the toilet.

Oh, and while I’m on the subject. For all that is good on God’s green earth FLUSH! There is nothing worse than someone else’s piss splash back.

2. Thou shalt not complain that you have nothing to wear and then empty your floordrobe in the laundry, expecting The Almighty Mummy to wash it all. Including the shit that is still freaking folded. Be warned, you pull that crap and I will return it to your room. After I have farted on it.

3. Thou shalt do what I say. When I say. End of conversation. I can rain war and pestilence and no freaking phone credit or internet access on your arse.

4. Thou shalt not touch Almighty Mummy’s computer. Unless given permission. And asking me while I am half asleep or before my first bucket-o-latte does not constitute permission. I am not held responsible for anything I say during these times. Or when I am holding new shoes. I am speaking in tongues, not saying yes to you.

5. Thou shalt open freaking EYES or move shit when looking for things. Standing in the middle of the room waiting for said item to jump out at you will not work. Unless it is the back of my hand. That’ll work.

6. Thou shalt put away clothes properly. This does not mean the end of the bed or on the floor. Unless it is in your own room. Then I don’t give a shit what you do as long as said clothes do not end up back in the laundry. See Commandment #2.

7. Thou shalt not ask for money within 6 hours of saying no to the Almighty Mummy. The Almighty Mummy has a looooooong freaking memory. Any reference to elephants will end in tears. Yours. When I take away your ipods and replace your Emo music with my favourite techno. (this will be hard to enforce as we actually like the same music)

8. Thou shalt do homework before playing on the computer. Oldest infidel, you are in VCE now. You have homework every night. Yes you do. I will ring your teachers. And invite them over. And they will come cause I can be very persuasive. Infidel-that-was-born-second (cause apparently ‘middle child’ fucks up psyches or somesuch. I prefer using my own methods) you don’t get off easy. Your friends got more honours than you did last year. What the fuck? I don’t care that you got six A’s and the rest were B’s. More study for you. *snort*

9. Thou shalt not walk in the room and start talking at me when I am blogging. This really really pisses the Almighty Mummy off. You will walk in, kneel on the floor with eyes averted until your presence is acknowledged. Wear knee pads. It could be a long wait.

10. Thou shalt love everything that I cook. And then praise the Almighty Mummy for her culinary prowess, even if it is soup. From a can. That you reheated yourself. I bought the bastard and you will bow to me.

11. Thou shalt not stand in front of a full fridge and/or pantry and bitch that there is nothing to eat. I am not a fucking mind reader and the store doesn’t stock ‘I don’t know’. I asked. They don’t. Have an apple.

Yeah, yeah, that was 11. But do you really think any of them will be followed?

I would be happy with just number one. OMG would I be happy with just number 1. Of the number 1’s and 2’s. Yeah that would be good.

Happy New Year my internet lovelies. Now go forth and resolve to resolve tonight. And then pop back here and let me know what you decided to give up do to make 2008 better so I can hold you to it and tease you mercilessly when you break the resolution by 1pm on the first of January cheer you on.

Mwwwaaaa! Looking forward to spending 2008 with you.

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Two very exciting things have happened today. And I am jumping out of my skin with excitement!

Firstly. I was wiping Boo’s arse earlier and noticed that he had his first solid bowel movement EVA! Boo has been gluten free since ‘toddler diarrhoea’ didn’t clear up by the time he was four. We started a half arsed *snort* gluten challenge but over the last couple of days he has been eating hot dog rolls till they have been coming out the wazoo. And solid!

Oh. My. Freaking GOD!!! I am so excited I could just, well, share my sons toilet habits with the internets. I am just bouncing people. Looked just like the Mr Hanky I packed away with the Christmas decos.

I swear it freaking winked at me and said BoooYaah!!!

I resisted the urge to take a photo for you all. I concede that some may not be as enamored by my sons fecal floaties.

And the second thing. Well I am sure I will be forgiven for announcing this after a good bowel movement, but today sees the launch of the newest most exciting Aussie Blogging forum in the world! It was supposed to be a secret till tomorrow. I was planning on having a play and wielding my magic moderating powers without an audience. I was going to do a vague post and keep you guessing and begging and sending me shoes to get me to tell, but then Meg, Snoskred and Andrew let the cat out of the proverbial Gucci puppy carrier.

The Aussie Bloggers Community project is born! Here is the link to the forum. We are all having fun in there right now and literally hundreds of people have visited since the unofficial launch at 6pm.

Meg has done all the hard work with the linking and stuff so pop over there to read all about it:

Dipping in the blogpond

Or just click on all three of their names and read what they have to say, oh and subscribe to their feeds. You will thank me! (Don’t forget to subscribe to mine too! Bwaaa haaa haaa!)

And then get your arses over to the forums! Oh and my lovely overseas friends, it’s not just for Aussie sheilas and blokes 🙂

Just don’t forget to come back ya hear?

Well, well, well….. Looks like I definitely still have my moderators hat on cause there was not a fuck, shit, biatch in sight. Must be mellowing in my old age. Probably something to do with that red shit on my leg. That apparently no one but me can see…..

It is freaking hot.  More than sweaty breasticles, my lovelies, I am glowing all over the shop.  Wipin’ up my glow with a towel kinda hot.

It just hit 41c (105.8F) while I was driving the kids around to various sleepovers.  Got the honour of meeting my bosses wife, lounging in the pool with a glass of wine lucky biatch, when I dropped Moo and her best bud off for a sleepover there tonight.  She seems lovely.  Apparently she has heard all about me, *snigger* but was still nice to me.

Went shopping to buy large clear plastic storage containers for the Christmas Decos (going to cull a lot.  17 boxes might be a tad excessive I do concede) and take the girls to spend their Christmas money on a game for the Wii.  The girls went one way, and I went straight to the coffee place.

As you do.  On a freaking stinking hot  day.  You buy the largest Latte you can find.  With an extra shot.

While I was waiting for them to make it, my FREE coffee cause they have these little card thingy’s and your 8th one is free, I wandered over to put Lotto on.

Our little indulgence.

‘Oh!’ says the little girl that served me, all of 10 years old I reckon, ‘You have a win!’

‘Cool!’ says I, thinking this is my lucky day, might chuck a little something special in the cart at Safeway.

She calls over her mum.  I know it was her mum cause she said ‘Mum, what do I do here?’

People behind me are mumbling.  I am thinking, wait your turn fuckers, Mummy is getting an avocado, or maybe even TWO! Oooh, cherries would be nice…..

‘Congratulations!’ says Mum.  I am thinking a lot of freaking hoo-ha for 20 bucks lady.  Now hand over the cash my coffee is getting cold.

‘You have won $1125.25!’

‘I WHAT?????’  My poor little heat stroked mind is not computing.

She points to the screen that is showing the whole fucking shopping centre how much I won.

I start stammering and sweating glowing that little bit more.

‘Really?  Oh. My. God!’  Any one would have thought I won 1st division the way the lady and I were carrying on.

Little girl counts out my cash and puts it in an envelope.

Yeah baby!

I spend the next 15 minutes trying to find the girls.  Finally find them perusing the games in Target.

I tell them.  Moo launches herself at me in excitement.  My coffee goes flying.

My beautiful FREE coffee.

Then the little biatches give me a list of all the things they want.

But Mummy has other plans for this money.  Oh yes, my lovelies, you KNOW what I want…..

Pity a grand will only buy one shoe.  I will have to learn to hop elegantly.

So I was in the shower this morning defurring.

And cleaning the shower.  And deep conditioning my hair. All at the same time. Cause I am a woman and I can multi task  like that.

And I saw this:

leg-crap.jpg

What the fuck?  Yeah, it is a shocking photo but 1. I really didn’t want to look. 2. Boo has a thing for legs and if he saw me taking photos of my leg then he would want to do a freaking power point presentation about it and take it to school for show and tell and C. isn’t it humilating enough to post a photo of your leg with freaking red shit all over it without breaking out the bloody floodlights?

My grandma has that sorta shit.  How did something like that end up on my freaking inner knee cap place?  Yeah, like it has a name.

It is right on my leg where I rest my laptop.  Leg bent, laptop resting, opposite foot tapping ‘hurry up, hurry up, the tiny terrorist is occupied for 5 fucking minutes let me get a quick post/comment out before he starts his reign of terror again’ tattoo.

So what is it? Radiation poisoning from my MacBook?  Bloggers inner thigh?  Laptop-itis?   Is there a support group I can join?  A magical creme?

Amputation?

So I am starting to look like my freaking eleventy hundred year old grandmother in the nursing home.  Better check my chin and upper lip for Nanna hairs.

On second thought.  Lets not.

I am over guest posting at Snoskred’s today.

A post inspired by bone tiredness, too much wine and spending the day with my awesome Daddy.

No swearing in sight.  Really freaking hard, especially after the last couple of days.

If you want me to come and mess up your blog, offend your readers or do a shoe parade, just click on the ‘Talk to me’ button up the top there and let me know where and when.

Just remember the coffee.  Skinny latte with a extra shot.

It’s done.

Despite the best efforts of the universe to prevent it’s erection (*snigger* I said erection…. shuddup, I am delirious) the cubby is finally up.

Apparently you don’t need instructions, or the right amount of materials, or pre warning that you will need specialist drill bits, a kick arse professional strength drill and a circular saw to complete it.

Apparently no one has sued them before for false advertising.

Apparently it takes 2 people 2 hours to erect it *snigger*.

In reality it took 4 adults, 15 hours to put up.  Well, actually 3 adults 6 hours to put the base up wrong, 1 hour to dismantle and then the remainder putting it up right.

one-wall-up.jpg

See that?  Only about 3 foot too tall.  Would they listen to me?  Noooooo.  They actually erected *snigger* the whole fucking base and then realised that they could actually stand under it and then went oops.

There were injuries:

blood.jpg

MPS got a splinter.  Awww, poor baby.

There was night time drilling and hammering.  With lots of beer.  And singing.  And gnashing of jaws and thumping of chests.  I went inside.  I don’t drink beer. Or like hearing my husband, brother and father singing to Pink.

night-time-building.jpg

And pizza at 10pm.

And more beer.

And then start all over again in the morning.  Well, after breakfast.  At 12pm.  Hmmm.

And more beer.

Apparently drills only work if my brother has beer.

And then at 7.30pm tonight they downed tools.

It was finished.

front-cubby-finished.jpg

There was a round of applause.  And gasps of ‘FUCK it’s HUGE!’

finished-cubby-side.jpg

Boo decreed it to be the best present ever.  Well I told him to say that.  Gotta use that freaking echolalia to your advantage.  I am ‘the best Mummy ever’ and ‘Gawd Daymn Gorgeous’ too.  It’s true!  Boo says so.

Tonight there has been a flurry of activity in our driveway.  Kids I have never seen before and the neighbours children all congregating and peering down our driveway.  Hoping for an invite I expect.

Should I charge admission?

Day 2 of the Great House Extension Cubby Building of 2007.

There has been much bitching and kvetching and gnashing of jaws.

Every now and then there is a call of ‘I need to urinate’

And that person is found playing on the Wii.

The Wii that has been named ‘Jesus’ in honour of the season. Born on Christmas Day.

My father has fallen in love. Absolute rapture. My legally blind father is finding every opportunity to play.

Will post tonight if when the cubby is finished, with all the drama, blood and empty beer sustenance bottles. While cradling the biggest wine glass I can find.

If you don’t hear from me, you will find me rocking in the corner repeating:

‘No fucking instructions. Two thousand dollars and No. Fucking. Instructions.’

edited to add:

Sorry. Just realised that some people don’t know what a cubby is. Seems to be an Australian term. See this post for a picture.

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