BooYah!

Last night I had 8 hours and 20 minutes sleep. I am physically swooning at the thought of it.

That’s FIVE HUNDRED minutes sleep.

*swoon*

MPS ended up sitting with Boo for me. Got him in his bed at 9pm.

The kid was asleep by 9.15pm.

Bastard.

I asked MPS if he farted in there, therefore knocking the kid out in a stench induced coma.

MPS hypothesizes that perhaps he is just boring.

I concur.

I went to work with a bounce in my fabulous shoe’d step.

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With time enough this morning to paint my toenails a pretty shade of pink!

Now for the apologies. I have memes and awards backed up here. Gunna need some hospital grade enemas to clear them methinks. But I know there are more.

Remember the other day when I was whinging about Firefox and deleting my post? Well half of those zillions of windows I had open were memes to ‘remind’ me to do them.

So of course they are gone. *sob* GONE!

So please, if you tagged me for a meme or gave me an award in the last couple of months let me know in the comments here and I will do them, with flair and venom as is my style, and give you your linky lovin’.

Cause we all lurve our linky lovin’.

And speaking of linky lovin’ thanks to the awesome Stimey, I pink puffy heart her even before she nominated me for a Bloggie for Best Australian Blogger. Thanks Stimey, I ❤ you too!

Now off to visit all your blogs, well, those of you that comment, wink, wink, say no more. Cause over the last few days I haven’t had two brain cells to rub together and you all deserve better than that.

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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.

Cause it so is a land. Shuddup. It is too. We have our own currency and everything…. shoes, coffee and chocoate. Just like the Inca, but with clothes and bedding and shit.

******

Boo: Get me a blanket I need to do a poo. – paper or blanket….. we know the answer.

******

Me: Harden the fuck up – to the mayonaisse that was a tad runny.

******

Workmate: I think of you whenever I put on my shoes. and they were white! *shudder*

******

Workmate: What the fuck is that in your hair? A chocolate box ribbon? Nice shoes! – work Christmas party. I tend to get a little dressed up.

******

Too: Number 3 freaky neighbours!!!!!! – as I was driving out the driveway on my third trip of the morning (total today = 8 )

******

Me: Aren’t they new feet? – in reference to person hiding in the bushes across the street.

******

Conversation between me and my boss at the work Christmas lunch:

S: Oh look a Yummy Mummy!

Me: Nah, she is so hard faced.

S: Aren’t all Mummies?

Me: What about your wife?

S: Yeah. Hard faced.

Me: What about me?

S: I am going to get hurt now aren’t I?

******

Moo: Oh pretty! Can I have one? – about the packaging of my packet of tampons

******

My dad: What is that smell?

Boo: It was ME!!!!!! – 5 minutes before the blanket request.

******

Boo: Gawd Daymn! That’s Uranus!!! – while I was wiping his arse

******

My daughters in the bathroom:

Too: So I said ‘That tastes like arse’ and she is all ‘How do you know what arse tastes like?’ and I said ‘It’s like shit and sperm and Nanna’s cooking’

Moo: What! How do you know what sperm tastes like?

*thump* that was me falling on the floor…..

******

Moo: Men are so stupid. Don’t they know that ‘fine’ means no and if you take it you better protect your testicles….. – in reference to McDonalds ad where a guy asks for the last chicken nugget.

******

Workmate: I’m so tired!

Another workmate: Have you a death wish? Don’t say that near Kelley, she is wearing some lethal heels today.

******

Phone conversation between Too and I. Me at work and girls home. 9.30am

Me: Good, you are up. Wake up your sister and have something to eat and I will call back with what I need you to do today.

Too: OK, call around 10.30. I am planning on ignoring the phone around then.

******

Picking up MPS at train station. Notice a cut on his head.

Me: What happened to you?

MPS: I got hit in the head with a broom head.

Me: You what?

MPS: I was trying to close the roller door with a broom and the head fell off and hit me in the head.

Me: Too many heads. You are making me think dirty thoughts.

******

Me: Too can you put the bins out?

Too: Which ones?

Me: The red one and the green one.

Too: Which one is the red one?

******

Got a nice cheque in the mail.

Me: Mumma’s gettin’ her some new shoes!

Moo: ‘You are not African American mum.’ turns to Too ‘she is so white bread’

******

Coming out of Safeway and notice the car tyres.

Me: Looks like Mumma aint getting new shoes. Looks like the car is gettin’ new shoes…

******

 

And for your viewing pleasure I present you with todays shoes. These are my Christmas shoes. They sparkle!

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I had the office enthralled with my toe less stockings. They honestly couldn’t get their heads around the fact I was wearing stockings…. and they were toe less. And that my nailpolish matched the shoes.

This is what I have to work with people! I didn’t bother showing them the matching handbag, lest their heads explode.

Monday marked my 3 month obsession with foray into the blogosphere. Over this time I have had some burning questions that I haven’t asked because 1. I didn’t know who to ask, 2. I was worried it would sound silly asking basic questions and C. well I am a lazy biatch.

So here I am, cap in hand, asking my internet lovelies to help a chick out.

Comments:

Well you are all well aware of my comment addiction. I have that little button on the sidebar that says I follow if you comment. And I do, religiously. But what if the person I am visiting has it too? When does ‘I follow’ become ‘I am stalking you’?

Some bloggers answer comments in their own comments, some reply personally, some do a weekly wrap up answering questions and acknowledging their peeps and others still seem to all but ignore their commentors. Besides the last one, which do you prefer? I tend to comment on a blog and unless they have one of those thingymagigies that emails you every time there is a new comment I would never know if the blogger replied to what I said.

And that brings me to the next question. How do you do one of those thingmagigies on a WordPress blog? How do you turn it on and off on other blogs?

Blogrolls:

Who is on your blogroll? Do you have one? I have been thinking of having a stalker blogroll (my lovelies who comment) if you think that is a good idea let me know and I will pop you on it, and promise not to slap an AVO on ya.

Do you list everyone on your Bloglines (or insert feed reader here) or just the people you read regularly?

How do you find out if you are on someone elses blogroll? Do you reciprocate? Even if it is a freaking weird arse blog you would not normally read?

Buttons:

There are a shit load of buttons out there, technorati, bloglines, google reader (devil spawn I know Meg!) are the only ones I have. Are there others that I should have to add to your reading experience? Cause you know I am all about pleasing the peeps.

Now cause I am all about pleasin’ the peeps I will stop with the questions and present you with todays shoe selection. Freakin’ hot = shoes I can slip off quick.

red-summer-shoes.jpg

Today we went to Officeworks, those that have been stalking me playing along at home will know that we normally go to Officeworks on a Monday, but this week we mixed it up a bit due to some other commitments. As we were leaving one of the staff came up to me. I am thinking ‘Shit, here it is. Don’t come back here anymore, we don’t want you sitting on the office chairs and making the place look untidy.’

Officeworks chick: ‘Excuse me, can I ask you a personal question?’

Me: (thinking) Here we go, she is going to ask what is wrong with Boo and then tell me that she has a cousin/nephew/neighbour/cousins-brothers-babys-daddy with Autism and then I will be roped into counseling another freaking family and it is so fucking hot I don’t wanna think about anything but mopping up the river of sweat between my breasticles and standing naked in front of the airconditioner…. ‘Sure’

Officeworks chick: ‘How many pairs of shoes do you have? I have been watching you everytime you come in for the last year and you always have the most gorgeous shoes on! I really love the red boots’

Me: ‘Not that many, but what I have I love’

Officeworks chick: ‘Well you have great taste in shoes. Can’t wait to see what you are wearing next week!’

I walked out happy. Got me another stalker.

********

Now please don’t get all excited about the fabulousness of the shoes and forget to help me out with my very serious questions! 

Hate is probably a strong word. How about I fucking despise Summer, more than pregnancy hormone induced hemorrhoid’s and even more than when my coffee machine expired.

I hate the Romans already, ahem, Summer. I hate Summer already.  Channeling ‘Life of Brian’ again.

And it is still spring.

Today it was hot.  Freaking melt-the-bitumen-under-your-fabulous-shoes stinking hot.

I don’t take the heat well.  My body is designed for temperatures under 28C (82F) not this ridiculous 37C (98F) for 2 days straight.  AND expecting the same tomorrow.

Let me share some of the things I abhor about Summer.

Flies:  The sticky little bastards that get into everything and join their little friends the

Mosquitos, to make my life a living hell both day and night.

Dickheads that say ‘So how’s the heat?’  Moron.  What do you think?  We are sweating buckets and fighting over the last bag of ice at the supermarket.  So I am thinking it is bad.  Fuckwit.

Stupid people that say:  ‘It’s not so much the heat, but the humidity’  Do you think that makes you sound smart?  History tells us that TV weather people are not the brightest characters. Just spewing what they read from the autocue without any comprehension. Hence you are an idiot, making me more superior than you, so piss of and stop talking to me.

All the humongous fat women that feel it necessary to assault my peepers wearing skin tight spaghetti straped moo-moo’s sundresses.  Get a freaking clue, just because it comes in extra-whoa-mumma-huge doesn’t mean you should wear it. And for all that is good in the world SHAVE those furry armpits!

Oh and invest in some deodorant.  Please.  I will spot you the 5 bucks for the extra super strength.

Boob sweat.  Oh how I hate boob sweat.  The trickling sensation between the breasticles that reminds me of a creeping spider (oh yes, I think EVERYTHING is a spider) that makes me run screaming to the nearest loo to mop up the ‘glow’.

The smell of the school halls when I go to pick up Boo.  The smell of the 12-13 year olds that haven’t quite discovered deodorant (Impulse spray is not a deodorant girls!) mixed in with old textbooks and orange peel.  Bletch.

The endless night.  Oh holy-mother-of-GOD I hate the hot sticky nights.  I am a wrap yourself up in a heavy doona girl, not so much when the mercury is sitting in the mid 30’s (celcius, I am too hot and bothered to convert it for you guys) at 1am.  And I can’t sleep naked.  Not with the nocturnal visitor with the stealth ninja moves, who I am only aware of when I feel the poke on my breast and the exclaimation ‘Why do they bounce Mummy?’

Oh and us insane Australians that swelter in the kitchen on Christmas day cooking a traditional Christmas dinner.  Turkey and roast vegies and all the trimmings and then freaking HOT PUDDING!  WTF?  Are we insane?  Or are we just so totally brainwashed by the American way of life that we have to eat a hot meal when we can fry an egg on the road? (yeah, we are, I admit to hot turkey and freaking-pudding)  And then poor Grandpa gets suited up in the Santa suit, hands out the presents and spends the rest of the day in hospital with heat stroke.

But there is one thing that I like about Summer.  Watermelon and coffee flavoured icecream for dinner. yum.

Oh and shoes.  Yeah, pretties.  Here are today’s.

pink-shoes.jpg

The photo doesn’t do them justice, they are such a pretty shade of pink.  And I have a handbag that matches perfectly!

here are my new shoes

bling-shoes.jpg

You must realise the trauma I am going through to post this.  DH and Boo have got grumbly tummies and there is a permanent green haze enveloping the house.  I have ventured inside from my hidey hole outside to post this for you all, my lovelies.

DH took the photo this morning just before I left for work.

DH ‘What is the photo for’

Me ‘Stop grumbling and take the freaking photo, or I will do it myself’

DH ‘If I angle this camera right, I can see right up your skirt’

Me ‘Not in Movember, buddy’

DH eyeing me warily ‘Do any men read your blog?’

Me ‘What?  Nah, it’s just about housework and cooking and shit.  Nothing guys would be interested in.  Only women blog.  It’s so not a guy thing’

DH ‘So why do you care that you think your ankles look fat in the photo?’

Me ‘Cause women are biatches and I gotta keep the lesbians happy’

DH with a glint in his eye ‘Lesbians?  Did you say lesbians?’

Me ‘Fuck off idiot.  It aint never EVER gunna happen, now give me that camera before you end up with a stiletto in the forehead’

Photo of the shoes. On or off?

In the box or modeled?

Modeled by me or Moo. Too can’t cause she is seriously broken (at the doctors right now), Boo will eat them (or shit on them..) and DH…… well he doesn’t know about them yet.

Oh and guys, you can vote too. Don’t want to be sexist or anything, just guys don’t tend to get excited about shoes, unless that is all the woman is wearing…….

*snigger* this can technically count as a NaPo- whatever post!