NaBloPoMo


yeah, this thing has been holding me back.

What about BlogEveryHourWeek or HowMuchCrapCanYouTypeInOneDayMonth?

Actually today I am rather proud of myself. I didn’t have to resort to endless memes, nothing posts (well except maybe this one, but a bird was terrified by a fart, so it was something) or just linking to blogs I like. Which is what I was afraid I would do….

And looks like I must be doing something right cause today this little blog debuted in the top 200 Australian blogs! Oh. My. Freaking. Gawd. Not something I was expecting after only being around just over 3 months! Pop over to Megs blog Dipping in the Blogpond to see the others. I am number 199 or something *snort*

Thankyou my lovelies, I feel special!

So now what I want you to do (besides thinking of a name for Mario-porn-star) is click on that button over there ‘add this blog to my technorati favourites’ and then go and claim your blog. Helps us both out apparently. Makes my little number go up as well as yours and you too could be dancing around the loungeroom manically squealing ‘In your face, In your face, I am a Suuuuuperstaaaaaaaar!’ or something similar while the boy and the bunny look at you like you are insane.

The boy who is nekid and fondling the next tooth he is planning to extract and the bunny who we think has Tourettes. They are judging me……

I told Mario-porn-star. He was flabbergasted that people would actually want to read my blog. Seeing it is just about cooking and housework *gaffaw*. Might actually come clean with him one day.

I told my girlfriend H.  She looked at me incredulous and said ‘You have a blog?’  Oh. Right.  I forgot.  I haven’t told anyone I know in real life about this little thing…..

So this potty mouthed, fab shoe wearing, coffee ho is a happy little chicky tonight, loving the peeps in cyberland.

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I am debating on a new name for my husband.

DH is just not cutting it any more. Not since Mario-porn-star. THAT name suited him.

But once he shaves off that Mo. Won’t really ‘go’.

He wants to be known as Sex God. SG for short. Methinks Stupid Git is more appropriate.

Or Wog Boy. That is certainly descriptive.

Here is the final photo of the monstrosity.

mofoto-last-day.jpg

Rather pathetic really, for a whole months growth. His chest hair is thicker….

So my lovely internets again I am coming to you to name another family member.

I guess you want a little something for your trouble. How about when I amend ‘The Magnetobold Family” page at the top there to update DH/Mario-porn-star’s details, your name and permanent link to your blog. That page gets around 5 or so views a day so that is a lot of lovin’ right there.

OK, let the madness begin. I will keep comments and nominations open till Monday evening.

And I am waking him at midnight (cause you know I will still be up, sigh) and shaving the bastard off.  He can choose to co-operate or not.  I have my girlfriends Epi-lady here, and we know that hurts like fuck.  Hmmmm, could be rather entertaining……

Screaming children, frazzled parents, slow walking pensioners with bags full of change, punch ups in the carpark…..

Yes, the Christmas spirit is alive and well at my local shopping centre (mall).

Today I started my Christmas shopping. Usually I am almost finished by now. But nooo this year I am totally disorganised.

So I dragged my sorry arse filled with the joy of Christmas shopping I made my way to the home of off key Christmas musak. Seems everyone else in a 100 kilometre radius had the same idea.

Hence the car park punch ups. No I wasn’t involved. I was just standing around enjoying the show shouting ‘Kick him in the balls!’, ‘It was totally your park girl, pull her hair till her scalp bleeds’ with all the others.

City girl in me never died, so I walk fast. I shop fast. Old lady with the walking frame get the fuck outta my way cause I am on a mission.

Today’s mission was getting the rest of the paraphernalia for the outside decorating and the wrapping paper, cellophane, ribbon, cards and shit.  Remember this, it is important.

First port of call was the local coffee place. Make my order, stand in the required possie and wait. For 15 freaking minutes! Every bastard had the same idea as me. But when I got my extra large (I get them to make it in a milkshake cup) double latte with an extra shot, I kissed it and took off in my usual 500 miles an hour fashion.

Weaving through the prams, toddlers, aforementioned old people, disembodied heads on top of laden trolleys and strategically placed beggars people selling raffle tickets, I spied some really cute 3/4 pants. Hmmm, I have time. Lets try them on.

Yeah, it didn’t go well. Good thing I didn’t buy that holiday decorated icepick I saw earlier or I would have stabbed myself repeatedly in the eye to reduce the pain of seeing myself in the 3 way mirror.

Into the discount shop to find some cute but cheap frugal cards for the kids to give to their friends. Run into one of the feral mums from school. Am civil but talk quick and get the hell out of there. Cardless.

After an hour my feet are killing me.  These shoes are gorgeous, but not made for speed shopping.

I carry my bags full of Santas (got a thing for Santa *snigger*), lights and 2 bucks a packet candy canes out to the carpark.  Flipping the bird at the guy who nearly runs me down in the race to get another park.

I get home, unpack my purchases.

Shit.

Now I need to go and get the wrapping paper, cellophane, ribbon, cards and shit.

****************

I am going to come clean.  I wrote this last week.  Tonight I wrote a long and very personal post in response to some of the lovely supportive emails I received after yesterdays post.  But I guess I am not ready to share it right now.  I will, in time.  But in the meantime…….  

Thankyou, my internets.  You are all my biatches. 

In the car on the way home from school, Boo’s favourite song of the moment came on the radio.

“Chasing Cars” by Snow patrol

I unconsciously started singing.

Boo hates that. Shuddup. He hates EVERYONES singing, not just my off key efforts.

Boo turned to me and started singing with me.

We were harmonizing in the car.

He kept looking at me and smiling the sweetest loving smile. No yelling, no screaming, no slapping-me-round-the-head. Just singing along and smiling.

Got a bit difficult to drive for a while there. You see I, um, had something in my eye. Which was causing my vision to become blurred and water to trickle down my face.

Boo kept singing. Boo kept smiling. Boo kept looking at me like I was the most wonderful thing in the world. Even better than a mustard sandwich.

Then we got home. He ran around and opened my car door, like he always does and said:

‘Open the door, open the fucking door’

and then sunk his teeth into the door jamb.

Back to reality. But that bubble of bliss in the car was wonderful while it lasted.

And here for your viewing pleasure (DO NOT watch this with small children in the room!) the inspiration for Boo’s request to open the door. No, I don’t let him watch this sort of thing, I found him watching it this morning when he greeted me with ‘Mee-fucking-ooow’.

Oh, and while I was writing this he pulled out another tooth.  A fucking BACK tooth!  How the hell does he do it?

I gotta find this kid another hobby.  He is going to run out of teeth.

or so the gossip mongers say. And we play along, cause we are shit stirrers like that.

If they knew me well they would know that S is not, um, manly, enough for me *snigger* and we were friends looooong before he was my boss.  And he adores his wife.

We regularly have bitch sessions, compare coffee houses and are often found huddling in the corner giggling at the resident dress-like-a-teen-even-though-you-are-pushing-menopause hooker workmate.

Oh, and he is my bitch. And my daughters best friends Dad. So nooky in the conference room, I don’t think so, more like we would be doing each others nails ifyouknowwhatImean *wink*

Today we were gossiping. I was sitting on his desk, wearing a short skirt, he was leaning close, workmates eyes were popping out of heads *gaffaw* and this was the conversation:

Me: You bastard! You went and got a coffee and not me one.

S: I think I have PMS. I forgot, sorry. I was just at the salon. We had the most awesome salad but I just needed CHOCOLATE! So I got this huge hunk of mud cake…… but I know you don’t like cake. See I was thinking of you.  Even if I forgot to get you a coffee.

(his wife owns a beauty salon)

Me: Gimme some of your coffee you big girl (he has the same as me, double skinny latte no sugar)

*slurp*

S: Did you see A has that low cut top on again today. I don’t know where to look!

Me: *giggle* I am so going to tell her you said that.

S: Shutup! Don’t you dare!

Me: Hey does anyone have next week off?

S: Why?

Me: C’mon. Does anyone have next week off? Lemme look.

S: No, don’t want you to look. I will miss you. If you are not here I don’t have any friends.

*big girly pout*

Me: C’mon let me have next week off. You didn’t buy me coffee remember?

S: OK. But who will I talk to?

Me: I don’t care, I will be a lady of leisure. You could always come up at lunchtime and bring me a coffee.

*both sniggering* I said it loud enough for the gossipers to hear.

So I have the rest of this week off because of school closures for Boo and then next week to do with what I wish. Oh the bliss.

Oh and I will miss S. Cause he is my bitch. And cause he is fabulous.

I do have plans to do a lot though.  Thinking I might put a bit of a sidebar thingy on to keep me accountable.  You know, shit like ‘lounge around’, ‘do my nails’, ‘do lunch’, ‘build a cubby house/pergola’….

Perhaps a bit optimistic, but hey I have never been known to take on small projects.  I need just enough pulling-my-hair-out-hysterically pressure to work off all the caffeine I consume.

UPDATE:

Rat-fuck-son-of-a-bitch.  Moo just announced that she has Monday off.  That sucks.

yeah, so I get home. I nick outside to get the washing off the line and I am greeted by this MONSTER at my laundry door (gotta learn to not got out that freaking door, perhaps HE left the handprints on the fence?)

I screamed like the big girly city chick that I am and high tailed inside. My heart beating a million miles a minute.

Any one would have thought I broke a nail or *gasp* scuffed a shoe!

yard-monster.jpg

I downed my double skinny mocha to build up enough courage to go outside and take a photo for my lovely internets. See how much I love you all? I risk my personal safety to have photographic evidence of my trauma so you will see how desperately frightening it is to live in a country town.

I leaned out the door as far as I could to take this photo. The weed in the concrete is in fact 7 foot tall. (shaddup, it is I tell ya!)

I have peeked out the window and it is still sitting there. It’s huge claws ready to rip out my heart or at least give me a scratch worthy of a Simpsons bandaid (cause it has to actually break the skin to be allowed one of the hallowed Simpsons bandaids in this household).

Perhaps word has got out to the monsters of the world that Casa Magnetobold has a new family member.

Perhaps they are laying in wait to over power me and get to the bunny.

OH.MY.GOD! What if Too sees it and wants to *gulp* keep it as a pet!

Moo and Too are staying at my parents.

Boo has been sleeping through the night.

He is tired.

There is wine.

Bugger Movember.

Mummy needs a new coffee machine.

*snigger*

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