Entries in funny (8)


The Xmas Tree Goes Up When I Say It Goes Up. Not Now, Damnit!

The Thanksgiving food was not even completely cleared from the bench, table or faces of the children when Spike asked about the Xmas tree.

So, are we having a real tree or a fake one?

Ask me when it's Xmas time, dude.

I was having a small bout of diabetes, which was very much self-inflicted. This year, as well as the pumpkin cheesecake, I made Ben a dark chocolate salted caramel pie thingy that seriously could be used to kill things that are allergic to dark chocolate, salted caramel pie thingys. I'm getting a sugar coma just looking at it. Holy shit. And the kid wants to talk about the friggen Xmas tree?!

It's one of the perks of being married to a Yank. The Thanksgiving buffer. You can go to the shops in October without fear of coping a bauble in the eye. They've got Halloween to deal with. No Yuletides, instead you get ghouls by the pound and you will get caught in a fake spider web... it better be fake... Holy sacks-of-tainted-candy day, it better be fake?!

After the Witch Bits (TM) and Lolly Cauldrens have been put away, you're still safe. No Jolly Ol' St. Nick slipping into ShapeWear to shove himself down your chimney. Nor are there any Rudolphs - Nureyev or Gin Blossom-Nosed. Nope, you are greeted by great honking gobblers and Pilgrims as far as the eye can see. No Bing Crosby songs to murder in a lift, but you can while away the hours calling the Butterball Turkey Hotline for help with all your most intimate Meleagris needs. "Can you eat the snood?"

So, can we do the tree now?

Dude! I'm having a caloric collapshun here! It's STILL November - and I've still got smallpox soaked blankets to hand out to complete my genocide of an indigenous people tryptic.

Child looks at mother like she's poo'd on the festive floor.

Engages mild-whine mode.

But we ALWAYS put up the tree on Thanksgiving! I'm serious!

I just don't have an answer for that. Not one that doesn't begin with the phrase, "Oh ferfuckssake!" He's adament. ON Thanksgiving. Tree, now! Family traditon of decades standing. I didn't know kids could suffer from delusions of grandeur...

Can we look at that dark chocolate, salted caramel pie thingy again? Holy crap, I'm getting contact high.

It's not Xmas til Bill Murray says so.  The PLASTIC tree can probably go up this weekend. 3 weeks out. The box of lights can be untangled and the broken ornaments can be tossed.  It's December. Everyone breaath...

I give it 4 weeks til we start seeing Easter Hot Cross Buns in Woolies. 


[obnoxious link removed because it wont allow you to turn off auto play.  thanks Ellen!  Google, Bill Murray, Xmas]



I Got Lost In A Changing Room

I got lost in a Changing Room.

Yup. Lost. 

And yes, a Changing Room IS what you're thinking of. One of those "one way in, one way out" dealios. And to be perfectly clear - the one way out is the the same one way that you just walked in. S'pretty straight forward.

I've got a sense of direction as keen as a GPS hooked up to a second rate Latvian satellite. If we're lost - ask me which way *I* want to go. Which ever way I point - you can pretty much bet your cherubic child's life that turning the opposite way will get you to your destination.

Some people are good at singing. Some can play the flute. I've got a friend who can play drums while she sings. Me? I can get lost inside 4 square metres. 

Holding my bathers in one hand and a fitting room garment tag in the other I swished behind the curtain. Yes, not even a mysterious door to blame for my disorientation, just a curtain that doesn't even reach all the way to the floor. Inside that room cubicle, I tried on the bathers, sobbed, made mental notes to One, never try to buy bathers again and Two, eat a future spite-dim sim

When I left, I swished the curtain open again and headed for the exit and the judgmental thin woman with the over-plucked eyebrows who zealously guards the Size Hangers. You know when you're not really looking where your going cause you just wanna get the fuck out of Myer and you sense someone else in the vicinity? Alright, shut yer face, Target. It was Target. Never the less, I could see the other lady coming in to the change room and... ok, fuck off. Fine! It was KMart. I was in KMart, trying on bathers that I knew were gonna split me like a pale white brie on a fine cheese board. Cheese shouldn't wear bathers anyway. I just needed to grow a white Penicillium Candidum rind. Where was I? Oh yeah, walking out of the change room. Two fleeting thought crossed my mind as the other KMart lady came towards me; One "She'll get outta the way." and Two "Sheesh love, let yourself go much?" 

BANG! I walked straight into that fat lady with the hideous bathers over her arm... The lady with the lovely red hair and the Vivienne Westwood handbag. I had walked into a mirror. Mirror Me was pretty pissed off she'd walked into ourselves too. 

My name is fahey and my super power is Direction. I am Direction Girl!

Donations can be sent through to my PayPal.

What's your super power?



Have You Checked The Children?

I am childless.

Not in any legal sense, I believe I DO have to go and collect each of my progeny when "the bell goes" but for right now, I am childless.

These two ----> are both at their respective places of higher learning/germ incubators. BOTH could not be happier to be out of the house!

It's kinda weird. 

I'm reading similar tales from friends and friends of friends on my twitter feed. FaceBlech has a mention of it too.

There's lots of:

"It's too quiet here."

"I feel lost."

"Anyone wanna meet up for something? Anyone?! Hullo?"

Me?  Well, you are NOT going to understand this at all, unless you too have small humans in your home, but...

I just had lunch, right? Cop this, By My Self. The WHOLE thing. In ONE go!
I know!
Ridiculous! As IF that kind of thing can even happen!?

No one asked for "just one bite". No one snuck (it's a word) in a slurped up the dregs of my coffee - which as everyone knows, is the best bit. AND get this, it was still WARM!  No one complained about their cheese being 'weird", no one wanted to swap a "yucky" grape for a "rounder one". Pfff! Amazetastigals!

With full disclosure, in that time I have also ahd nine panic attacks each time my new phone (that's another story!) makes a noise because I think I'm late for picking up the smaller of my two posers. I am not. I've got another HOUR to myself. A whole human hour. Woo.

There's probably washing to do (oh shit there IS stuff in the machine I must try not to forget) and the floor could really do with a clean of some sort but, that shit can wait until Wednesday when Young Johnny Hands On Hips goes back to kinder again.

Ok, I admit it, the silence is WEIRD!

Here are MY Simple Tips To Alleviate The Weirdness

Yelling  Punctuate the silence with random, "Stop It!" and "Get OFF your brother!" and "Because I absolutely fercucken said so!" 's.  Don't worry about the neighbours. She's just WISHES she thought of it first.

Mess  Take it upon yourself to smear vegemite on your clean frock, right where everyone can see it. If you're feeling adventurous, you can spill a full glass of something sticky all over the floor. Draw on the wall, you know you want to. 

ABC2  Crank it. And admit it. You miss hearing the soul destroying repetitive droning of that sinister Yo Gabba Gabba.

Wipe A Strangers Ass Ok don't. If you want to get OUT of practice, be it on your head.

Drinking. Well, der!

Simple, homespun methods guarenteed to lift you out of the weirdness. 

Don't worry, school holidays are coming up again soon.


Viva le School Year!

Spike and Mo's Mum xxxx




Da plane, da plane Boss, da plane...

So, when did all this start happening?  

I pay attention to most things, yet this Thing appears to have hijacked a 10-speed bike and passed me by.

You know what I'm talking about. Especially you middle-aged ladies. Now, I'm not usually one to judge,(*who am I kidding, I'm judgeier than Judge Rienhold) but while I've got you here ladies, what's with all the bicep arm band tattoos? (Ah "Boss, da plane"... I geddit!  Yer funny, Prinny.)

Don't act like you don't know what I'm on about. Pamela Anderson has one. I've seen it. It's tacky. She wears it well, but that does not make it, untacky. Angelina Jolie probably has one too, but let's be open and honest with one another. Angelina could take a nasty tumble off a Blahnik, roll in some rescue-mongrel dog shit and still walk it off as a fashion-first accessory.

Oh wait, you DO know yours doesn't look like this, right? 

Nope, nice lady at the gym/pool/doctor's surgery/school pickup/cafe/supermarket, yours my fragrant darling, looks like this.

And bless ya!  No, really. I'm hardly an early Linda Evangelista my own self. (I have been know to get out of bed for a skoche less than 10k) Our arms are not as firm as Angie's. Our backs, not quite the bony ridge of ribs and vertebra Tommy Lee used to complain about as he looked for somewhere stable to rest his drink. Our hips, also not as taut as Pammy's ever have or will ever be. Our skin, dimples. Yes, Angie's does too, but only adorably at her face cheeks. (Can you tell, I'd totally do her and feel confident she'd say, thank you?) It's not as if I'm against personal etch-a-sketches in any way. Some of my best friends are you people!

It's just that I'm just trying to reconstruct a timeline for when The Memo went out and you all rushed off and got your tramp stamps. The guardian angels on your shoulders. The four leaf clovers on your pretty cloven hooves/feet. Your barbed-wire Pammy bath/arm rings, the Ying Yang on your calves and the adorable dolphins on your child-bearing hips. When, pray tell, did all this shit go down?

You're right. Perhaps I was too busy ordering coffee or asking about the lemonyness of the lemon tart, "Are you sure it'll punch my lips off. or not?" Was I occupied ordering shoes, Vivienne Westwood handbags and other essential life-sustaining things, online? Had my head up my own arse, you suggest?  Well, it wouldn't be for the first time, I answer truthfully.

Perhaps the true guts of all this is, I'm shocked that I'm actually shocked every time I see a greying-gracefully lady with a poorly inked bingo wing, or climbing rose bush tendril wrapped lovingly around the name, "Jayden" upon her person? It's not like you've stood in front of me, opened a box of adorable kittens and just started punching the cutest one.

I think what I need to do is take the earbuds out of my ears, pause Episode 218 of The Bugle and ask. "Sooo, what prompted that then?" Perhaps you'll tell me to "fuck off, love" or "Oh girlfriend! Don't go there!" or lay into me with some heart-string-tilling sob story which will make me rush right out and not get one too?

Chaps, you're not off the shiny hooker either. Every prematurely balding white man I see with an sleeve of tribal tatts makes me giggle self-righteously to myself. "How was the initiation ceremony?" I pretend to ask. "Did you have to hunt and kill your own food/enemy/pets?" He glares back at me from the treadmill. "Are you a man now? What's your spirit animal? The Guinea Pig?" I enquire.

A couple of my darlingest buddies are totally hot, Rockabilly-esque sauce boxes. (I'm talking about you KB) Tattooed from hither to yon. There isn't a lot about them that isn't Raw Sex (oh gawd, remember them!?  *love* ) about those broads - maybe it's the 'tude that comes with their tatts?  I dunno?  

Susanna Lee is here,  [pictured left] go look at her. Go love on her beautifulness and be jealous. Wickedly funny, sassy as all hell and tattooed to b'jingos. I love everything about her.

Nice lady at the gym/pool/doctors surgery/school pick-up/cafe/supermarket if you were half as rocking as Lucky or KB I'd go with you to pick out your new Japanese Water Symbol and I'd mop your brow as the gold-toothed gent with the hubcaps jammed in to the space his ear lobes used to occupy etched it permanently on to your back fat.

Buuuut, yer not. So you're gonna catch me staring at you, giggling a bit then I'm gonna ask. "Soooo, what bought all this on then?"

Multi-scarred but not inked, capricious Me! xxxxx

Where's your tatt?  What did you get?  Why?  Where? Leave me an answer in the comments section, if you wouldn't even hardly have a mind.  



A Stop Motion Merry Xmas

Hey! So there's all that food and all those presents!  The house is resting under a typhoon of shell packaging, gift wrap and gross tonnes of over indulgence.

We decided to do a Stop Animation movie for Xmas this year. We expect the awards to start rolling in, any second now.

Please enjoy our Xmas 2012 video which is excellent enough to show off to your friends, relatives, associates and assorted well-wishers.  And for the first time - this is a world premiere, for those with a good internet connection only - we are making ourselves available in high-definition too!  I know, high def, who'da thunked it?  Take that, terrorists!


Ben would like to apologize for the quality of the narration, but the directrix wouldn't hear of changing it.

I would like to unpologise for the cuteness of the smallened actors. It's just how we made 'em.

Merry All That, you lot!

Lotsa love, 

ME, Him, Mini Me-Male Version and Interesting Combo Platter Boy xxxxxxxxxx