Second only to my fear of country music is the thought that I may one day feature in a bus stop ad, my belly a timely warning against the dangers of self-indulgence, and so I try, or at least try to try to go to the gym. Sometimes this means … Continue reading Or don’t.
There are exceptions. Obama, for instance, or Henry Winkler from Happy Days. Other than that, though, I just assume that people with 3000 friends and upwards do nothing else but sit at home all day trying to find friends of friends of people they sat next to on the bus once. Then again, … Continue reading It’s a truth universally acknowledged that people with too many Facebook friends are in need of a life.
I’m crosstitching again. After a hiatus of 14 years, I’ve flung the craft closet doors wide open and said “come one, come all, and watch me stitch like nobody’s business.” The vehicle that makes this emancipation possible? Irony: that clear unequivocal message that says how … Continue reading Rain on your wedding day is just bad luck, Alanis.
What are you doing this weekend? Having a quiet one I’m not. I’m going out. Where are you going? To a hen’s night – I’m making vodka jelly shots and my friend’s hired a stripper. I’m assuming this kind of banter constitutes the fourth year … Continue reading I go for the conversation
This blog is a kind of panegyric to crappy ads – ones that make the kind of claims a less generous person might call lies. There’s so many to choose from, but here are a few of my all-time favourites: Oil of Olay can STOP AGING. You can’t make this up. Most skincare companies fall into … Continue reading Isn’t it just the worst when you buy a soiled oven.
Winning the lead role in our grade two production of Rockin’ Robin changed my life. I’d tasted the sweet nectar of acting success and I’ve been thirsty ever since. Dehydrated, it would seem, because thirteen years later twenty year old me was impersonating a vegetable at … Continue reading There’s no business like show business
I had a knee reconstruction ten years ago, and despite what the amateur thespians on the footy field would have you believe, it wasn’t that big a deal. My doctor was gruff but harmless, the anaesthetist was friendly – as would be I at that pay grade – and the … Continue reading Nurse Pol Potty and the Case of the Overflowing Bedpan: A Tale of Revenge
The Humanities Dept. is really just one big nudist colony; small mercy being that they’re a sedentary breed, generally found/not found tucked away in a corner behind a big pile of books and a bigger pair of glasses. I usually wear clothes, but the other day, for the purpose … Continue reading I’m pretty sure that emperor’s naked
No hard feelings from this end; I just wish that there was an outright display of aggression rather than the constant subliminal undermining in her “friendly” letters. At the moment, this hostility manifests itself in well-wishing letters and a selection of mind-bending drawings, clearly intended to … Continue reading My sponsor child hates me
I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but it’s too late now. Another thing that was wrong with the Corolla was that the petrol gauge was unreliable; it would say that I could make it to Sydney when I hardly had enough to leave the driveway. Since … Continue reading That gear got biblical