Category: amazing

Conversations with mum

Mum: I found one of those hard drives PiC told me about.  It’s a one trilobyte passport.

Me: Trilobyte? You mean terabyte?

 Mum: Yeah that. Sorry, I was thinking about Star Trek.

Me: That was TRIBBLES! 

Mum: Oh, fuck it!  Whatever.  Amazon is a whore.

fin


Best. Present. Ever.

EVER!

Beisbol

 

2004 World Series Baseball…signed by the team.  *dies of excitement*


adventures and cake and dingleberries! oh. my!

You know you have an incredible mum because when you were younger she let you make your own mistakes , but knew when it was time to step in and give you a hand or help you pick up the pieces.

You know you have an amazing mum when you suddenly realise as an adult that there were many times when she went without, but never saddled you with the burden of knowing that.

You know she’s extraordinary in that she’ll always be there to listen to you bitch and moan,  and isn’t just sitting on the other end of the phone waiting to speak.

But you know your mum has officially entered the realm of UNBELIEVABLY BATSHITTINGLY AWESOME when you ask her, ‘Can you draw me a bag of dicks?’ And she doesn’t even question you about it, this just shows up in your inbox two days later.

bod2 

Thanks mum, you’re so fucking money.


oh balls…

When you are the empathetic type, be sure the person who is sobbing- that you are offering a tissue to- isn’t a completely batshit-crazy tiny racist Thai woman who continually asserts that SHE’S NOT CHINESE!

Otherwise, you will have to sit through her tirade about how her boss is an (adjective) cunt.  The epithets and racism will continue to come, no matter how uncomfortable you try to make yourself look.  Apparently, being a young, friendly, white woman is a license for someone to go crazy with the bigotry. Awesome.

This isn’t the first time this has happened to you…

 

Learn from your mistakes.  Sheezus.

And….

This is what Google spat out when I searched ‘tiny racist’…seriously.

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The *real* platypus poop post

I am under no delusions of grandeur that this blog is wildly popular by any means.  It serves as more an exercise in mental masturbation for me and hopefully gives the few people who actually know about it a giggle.  But there has been a disturbing trend pretty much since its inception.  People seem to stumble upon my little corner of the internet in search of Platypus Poop.

The top searches that lead people here are in short: platypus poop, platypus f(a)eces, platypus droppings and platypus shit.  (More recently the searches have diversified into the realms of what Dobermans think, ant pile and badass chilli, though they are a small percentage.)  I feel kind of bad about this, particularly if it’s some poor kid attempting to research the humble platypus and its respective poo, only to be accosted by a slightly unhinged and sweary collection of stories written by a slightly unhinged and sweary expat with a bit too much time on her hands.

It got me thinking though, how could people find this particular blog with that particular combination of words?  So I did my own search and found something incredibly interesting.  There is a huge hole in the interwebs regarding the toilet habits and, er, leavings of the platypus.  So, young friends, I am here to help you.

As the platypus is a small mammal that has a varied diet of plants, larvae and small freshwater shrimp I would reckon that their poop is probably small and pellet like.  Similar to that of a rabbit (maybe?).  Deeper (much, much deeper) searching leads me to another assessment that it resembles hamster poo, but I don’t know how accurate this is because the domestic hamster and the platypus are very different creatures.
So let’s say rabbit/hamster to settle the debate.  And there you have it.  If there’s anyone out there that actually knows what it looks like or has a picture of said shiz, I would appreciate your input.  Because, and I don’t know if this is a good or bad thing, when I do an image search for it this website pops up not once or twice, but FIVE times, on the first page no less.  There is a hankering for this information, folks, so I’m just trying to fill the gap.  I appreciate that my photos are turning up in a search, but I can’t imagine the thoughts that must run through people’s minds when they’re conducting a simple search to satisfy their curiosity and are accosted by a giant bowl of refried beans.  Which, may resemble crap but I assure you tastes infinitely better.

Also, there seems to be another search that brings people here and that is platypus meat.  And…seriously?!?  Platypus meat? Why?  Do people actually eat platypus?  What do they taste like?

As for the remainder of the searches- Dobermans probably mostly think about chasing things and likely don’t really care for getting pissed on, ant piles can be dangerous and painful, and badass chilli is just that. Bad. Ass.


Monday Munchy Malfeasance*

Dear High Street purveyor of ‘delicious’ lunchtime meals,

Hi!  Let me start off by saying, for the most part, I really like you.  I’d friggin’ marry your cheese and pickle sandwiches if there wasn’t a chance for the relationship to moulder after an unrefrigerated romance.  But there’s something we need to talk about; have a discussion, a palaver, if you will. 

Your salads are kinda gross. (Mummy Tourette always told me to lead with the good and then stick the knife in.)

I happened into one of your shops today, hungry and looking for something to satiate me.  I found myself in front of your cooler box of love.  Your friendly fluorescent lights beckoning me to choose one of the brightly blissful packages of ambrosial goodness.  It took me about 10 minutes- because honestly how can one choose between such salacious synonyms as: scrumptious, yummy, enticing and delectable?  There were so many to choose from, but I settled on the ‘Tempting 5 bean salad with spinach and grilled halloumi in a spicy tomato sauce’. It certainly was. What? I dunno.  I bought this salad based on your duplicitous description- preparing for the incredibly awesome flavour assault on my taste buds.

What I got was this-
It’s like a Dali painting.  ‘Toyed it, my heart’, obscure and abhorrently delectible!

Seriously, High Street?  I mean, seriously?  How do you only grill (your incredibly salty) halloumi on one side?  How does your tomato sauce taste less like tomatoes and more like cheesy feet?  How does your 5 bean salad actually consist of 3 beans of varying sizes?  (And by the way a lentil is not a bean, it’s a pulse.) Also, the extra helping of lime?  Would have appreciated a warning that the first bite of my supposedly mildly spiced salad would involve me having a lime induced seizure.  There was no description of lime on your label; can you be more forward with your sour intentions before I shove you in my mouth?

But your most nefarious infraction, your most poisonous predication was this-

I’ll be a-giggling while I consume your soul!

The best name I can come up with for these slimy, diseased facsimiles of red onion are…well, diseased facsimiles of red onion. (Or purple sluggy mates of FUN!)   Why, high street, did you decide to torture me?  Why did I have to spit the purple sluggy mates of FUN! out after first chomp?  Because they’re disgusting, High Street.  Just gross.  Onion does not age well in the best of circumstances.  It’s even more monstrous when you decide to use this half-cooked nastiness in your so-called fresh salads.  Half-cooked anything in a fresh salad is blasphemy, is it not? (I realize the ridiculousness of calling any refrigerated salad with an eight day outdate blasphemy, but go with me here, I’m trying to prove a point.)

So what does one do in such a situation, High Street?  Continue eating this rubbish because I’m ravenous?  Yes.  Yes, I did. Understand, I was f*cking famished, High Street.  And I ingested your abhorrent awfulness to fill my belly. 

It took a hell of a lot of Cholula and a bit of Johnny’s, but I managed to get it down. Can’t say I liked it, can’t say I didn’t. But next time High Street, keep your sickly, slimy slugs from hell to yourself.  And let me get along without your lime of doom. DOOM!

CHOLULA!
*this post contains copious amounts of absolutely amazing alliteration, use wisely! Like Cholula.

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