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!


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.

I have been waiting for this day all year. December 5 is Day of the Ninja.

Ninja’s of the world unite!

I totally stole this from Raincoasters site. You don’t mind, do you Raincoaster? Anything to get the word out about the Ninjas. Cause the world needs more people running around with t-shirts on their heads and making weird noises.

So here is how to make yourself a ninja and scare the shit out of the chick at the checkout at Safeway.


Click on the picture to make it easier to read.

And then wouldn’t you know it, a ninja broke into my house.


The biatch was trying to steal my formally-known-as-the-Bathroom-Tree™ now Hallway Christmas tree! Oh the humanity!

But it is OK, she looked eerily familiar, I think I saw her in the bathroom when I was brushing my teeth this morning, so I deflected her with my ooh-look-some-pretty-shiny-shoes moves and she disappeared.


But later on she sent her minions….

boo-ninja.jpg moo-ninja.jpg

Stealth Ninja moves boy and Ninja Biatch.



Today I have been tagged for a shi-ite load of memes, got an award and Meg made me a pretty for my blog. Will be working hard on them tonight.


Oh and apparently I get to put this little lovely on my blog. Noice.



Thanks All for Women!

A common phrase in this household is:

‘you are going to blog about this aren’t you’

my response ‘I fair am.’

Everything and everyone is fair game.

Once on a blog someone mentioned that if a man is right handed his left testicle will hang lower. And vice versa. Apparently there was a study or something (methinks high school boys?)

So I went in to DH. He was asleep.

I lifted up the bed covers to look.

‘Whaaaat?’ came the mumbled sleep filled voice from the bed. Asshat went to bed while I was up with the little turd bouncing off the walls.

‘Which hangs lower, left or right? C’mon inquiring minds wanna know!’

A cloud came across his face. ‘Your blogging about this aren’t you?’

I hightailed it outta there.

The next morning while he was doing his manly duties, making me a bucket-o’-latte, he called me into the kitchen.

‘You know that question you asked me last night?’

I stepped carefully out of reach…

‘Yeeeeesssss?’ I cagily replied

‘Well tell them no. I am right handed and the left is higher’

Cool. Excuse me while I go and update……


Speaking of blog fodder and DH.  Here is the latest MoFoTo.


Edwardo the pool boy has no fear of losing his job.  Nor the pizza delivery guy.

It is less waaa waka waa waa, more waaaat the fuck were you thinking Mario. mario.jpeg

I’m making tshirts for Boo’s party. I am loving myself sick in the one for me.  I thunk it up all by myself.


*gaffaw* Oh how I crack myself up.


For those more delicate types that have no idea what this means…..

J.K. Rowling announced recently that Dumbledore is gay.

A beard is a woman that hangs out with a gay man as a decoy so people don’t know his sexual orientation.

and Boo has been awake since midnight.  I have given up on trying to go to sleep.  The warm fuzzies I was feeling are long gone and the kid is close to being smothered with a pillow.

If I only had the energy.

Right now we are watching an infomercial.  Windsor Pilates.  Sexy women with lovely legs.  Boo is in his element.  I am actually getting quite into it.

Where’s the phone?

Oooh!  I just got an email.  I’m gunna be rich!  My friend (well he started off the email with Dear Friend, so he must be, right?) Fernando Carlos is offering me 25% of 16.5 million dollars.  Some guy died with no ‘hairs’ so apparently we can just take it.

All I have to do is send him my name, address, bank details, phone number and occupation……

But wait! Mr Edwin Martin has just offered me 40% of 384 million pounds!  And his offer has to be better because it is full of ! and “” as in, will be sent to you ASAP!! and “dead customer”.

Not really sure of what a “dead customer” is.  The ” ” have confused me a tad.  Does it mean he is “technically dead” or does that mean he is “dead when we say he is dead, just give us the go ahead and your bank details” dead?

Any rate.  I’m gunna be rich!  No calculations for me at 3am, but whatever percent of hundreds of millions of dollars is quite a lot huh?

I can get me a babysitter to deal with Boo’s nocturnal games, build a padded soundproof room and get me some sleep.

Oh and the Windsor Pilates system.  Only $70 bucks every two months for drink coasters.


Boo has been a crack up lately and here are a few snippets….. remembering that this kid had ‘no functional language’ 4 years ago.

In the car, I am singing along with a Pink CD. The song is ‘Nobody Knows’

Boo, turning down the music: ‘Mum stop being so morbid, sing something with a little BOUNCE in it, will ya?’


While having a haircut after school:

‘MAKEUP!!!!’ ……. like in the movies…

he wanted the brush to brush away the hair from his face.


This morning when I threw his school clothes at him:

‘What do you expect me to do with THIS?’


Caught by his teacher lining up 4 girls against a wall so he can stare at their legs:

‘I wasn’t doing annnyyyy thing! I was looking at their, their SOCKS!’

Thankfully the girls had no idea what he was up to. My Boo has an obsession with legs, mammal legs. People, dogs, horses…..


Moo was looking for her pillow. She searched the house. Finally she found it.

In the bathtub.

Boo had placed her pillow, a bag of toys, 4 towels, a chair, a computer game, a sandwich and a pair of pants in there.

What was he up to????? I don’t know, and neither does he.


Barely audible squeal from the hallway.

Terrified voice stage whispering ‘Daaaaadddyyyy!!!! Help me! Help ME!!! There is a scorpion!!! A SCORPION!!! Daaaaaadddyyyyyyy!’

And here is the terrifying creature.


Moo took the photo. The line is the grout of the tiles. The ‘scorpion’ was an earwig. I fell about laughing while he cowered in the corner screaming ‘Stop it Mummy!  It’s not fuuuunnnneeeee!”
Boo now knows the word for earwig…..


Watching the TV. John Howard is on. Boo looks at the televison.


Hmm, me wonders if the child is psychic!

‘Boo are we going to win the lotto?’

‘Don’t be silly Mummy!’



That freakin’ Macca’s ad is driving us all insane.

The chick on the radio was singing it too for-Christ-sakes….. AND not getting paid for it.

It is ingrained in our psyche.

So tonight we are having Maccas. Cause I can’t get that stupid jingle outta my head.

Boo decided what I was having, a cheeseburger with BACON.

Then he turned to me and said

‘You want single, double, quadruple or quintuple bacon on your burger?’

Can I have a side order of trip-to-the-hospital-to-clean-out-my-arteries with that?

My name is Kelley and I am a comment junkie.

I cannot go to a blog and not comment.  Even the really weird ones I come across, I have to at least say ‘thanks’.  It’s only right in my twisted mind, for me to let them know I was there.

Cause I don’t want anyone thinking I was a stalker, or *gasp* rude.

I guess I have always been like this.  Hear a conversation in the line at the supermarket, I will at least make eye contact and smile.  I will strike up a conversation in line anywhere.  At the deli counter. At the hospital, washing my hands in the ‘ladies’ (I draw the line at in the stalls, I know people that do that and that is just gross! Ooh there is a ‘gross’ comment for you DooDaddy! Not as gross as your kitchen though) My girls used to look at me in awe and say ‘Mummy you know everybody‘ their innocent eyes gazing up at me in wonder.

Now they just think I am mad.

But, tonight as I sit in Boo’s room on my laptop *stroking her lovingly* waiting for him to go to sleep, but he is seeing how far he can hold his drinkbottle away from his face and still get the water in his mouth, while singing the ‘Bacon bacon bacon’ McDonalds ad, I am in a state of panic.

My comments are not getting through.

They are disappearing into the ether.

And that means that I am visiting a blog without commenting.

Does anyone have an inhaler?  A paper bag?  I am hyperventilating.

I can’t comment.

I am getting to the point where I have so many blogs to read and feeling that I have to comment that I am getting rather overwhelmed. I am avoiding blogs that I love because I know that I will want to make a long winded comment and I don’t have time.  So when I get there, there are so many to read, and comment on, and I don’t want to be rude, or a stalker and…….


That was my head exploding.

As I said.  My name is Kelley and I am a comment junkie.  It has been 10 minutes since my last attempted comment.  I have 4 windows open with 7 tabs each, full of blogs that I want to comment on, but I am too scared.

Scared that I will write a comment and it will disappear.

Perhaps I should be more concerned with the content of my comments, than the sheer number, eh?