For your consideration

As you may have noticed, there hasn’t been much blogging going on around here lately. I’m not sure how long this situation may continue for, so until I do some more writing, here’s a few ways you could pass the time.

For a start, perhaps you might like to read about how this blog’s favourite ever “current affairs” show has reached new standards of excellence in making stuff up and then providing truly unconvincing explanations for their idiocy, followed up with the most amazing half-assed apology EVER EVER EVER. Read all about it here.

From a new low point in television to a new low point in the world of blogging, look no further than the truly amazing world of Victoria Beckham’s very own blog (and thanks to the charming Welsherella for drawing my attention to this one)

The list of gift suggestions for Valentines Day may be as bad as it gets, but I’m not sure because I stopped reading and hired an illiterate person to smash my computer with a large hammer halfway through it.


Finally, to recover from that travesty, perhaps you could pause and enjoy the following excellent quotes from various episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer


Willow: "Buffy, earlier you agreed with me about Thanksgiving. It's a sham. It's all about death."
Buffy: "It is a sham. But it's a sham with yams. It's a yam sham."
Willow: “You’re not going to jokey rhyme your way out of this one”


Buffy: "And you have a girlfriend named Olivia, and you haven't had a job since we blew up the school, which is valid, lifestyle-wise. I mean, it's not like you're a slacker-type, but... Oh, oh! When I had psychic power, I heard my mom think that you were like a stevedore during sex. Do you want me to continue?"
Giles: "Actually, I beg you to stop."
Buffy: "What's a stevedore?"


Xander: "Here's your coffee, brewed from the finest Columbian lighter fluid."
Giles: "Thank you. Horrible."
Xander: "Aren't you supposed to be drinking tea, anyway?"
Giles: "Tea is soothing. I wish to be tense."

Cordelia: "I personally don't think it's possible to come up with a crazier plan."
Oz: "We attack the Mayor with hummus."
Cordelia: "I stand corrected."
Oz: "Just keeping things in perspective."
Cordelia: "Thank you."


Giles: We'll get our memory back and it'll all be right as rain.
Spike: Oh, listen to Mary Poppins. He's got his crust all stiff and upper with that nancy-boy accent. You Englishmen are always so... Bloody hell. Sodding, blimey, shagging, knickers, bollocks. Oh, god. I'm English.


Spike: "It's a big rock. Can't wait to tell my friends. They don't have a rock thisbig."


Frat Guy 1: "If we cannot scare the young women, they will not fall into our arms. We'll have womanless arms. Halloween's not about thrills, chills, and funny costumes. It's about getting laid."
Frat Guy 2: "Is there any holiday that's not about getting laid?"
Frat Guy 1: "Arbor day."


Giles: Well fine, then just stay up there and keep making bunnies. It's a capital plan.
Anya: What capital? I never know what you're talking about. Loo, shag, brolly, what the hell is all that?
Giles: What? There's no way that you could remember me saying any of those words.
Anya: Oh, bugger off, you brolly.


Anya: Spike’s insane in the basement
Willow: Spike’s what in the what-ment?
Anya: Insane. Base.

Willow: "This means I can't help you study for tomorrow's final."Buffy: "Ah, I'll wing it. Of course, if we go to Hell by then, I won't have to take'em. Or maybe I'll be taking 'em forever."

And if you are enjoying this so far, you can find six season’s worth of them right here.

And that’s about it, really. Actually blogging will resume sooner or later. Hopefully.

Why do I still read mX?

I’m glad you asked.

It’s simple. If you pan for long enough, every now and then you strike a rich vein of pure gold. And Monday 19 February 2007 was the day it finally happened.

Exhibit A would be this little story, entitled “Vanilla Vice Vice Baby” because any variations on the “Ice Ice” theme never gets old. Here it is in full:

“Vanilla Ice put on a drunken show at a New York Club on Saturday, the New York Post reports. Ice and his crew of five put away bottle after bottle of Jagermeister, and when he took the stage, spies said, he began screaming obscenities at clubbers.”

I thrilled that Vanilla Ice is still doing shows around 14 years after his career peaked with a non-speaking-unless-rapping-counts part in “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2: The Secret of the Ooze”. That alone would have pleased me endlessly. But I am even more pleased that he is clearly still living the dream, and that people who actually went to a Vanilla Ice show in the year 2007 had abuse hurled at them, even if it was hurled by the one person in the world who had absolutely no right to do so.

And we simply can’t leave this story without noting that mX apparently believes that the audience was full of “spies”. Yes, they pluralised it. Who on earth is spying on Vanilla Ice shows? Seriously, do we believe that the choreography department from “So You Think You Can Dance" were there taking notes in preparation for the release of “Ice Ice Benji?”* Were the remaining members of Queen sneaking in so they could steal back their own bassline after taking Bono’s comments at the start of Rattle and Hum far too literally? Were the Food and Drug Administration secretly investigating an anonymous tip that someone was planning to start cooking MCs like a pound of bacon without wearing a hair net? Will this ever stop?**


Surely, surely that was the high point of Monday’s edition of mX? No, there’s more.

A regular and usually pretty frustrating feature of mX is their “My Platform” section, where they ask a relatively inane question and clearly have decided that for efficiency’s sake they will print the first three answers they get NO MATTER WHAT.

So, in response to the question “If you could take anyone on a date, who would it be?”, answers one and two were “Jessica Alba. Because it’s Jessica Alba” and “Hugh Grant, there’s something mysterious about him.” Adam Eddington of Richmond, you are either a philosopher or quite lazy. Would it really have been so hard to come up with “Because she was in ‘Idle Hands’ and I want to ask her if Seth Green is as funny in real life as he was on Buffy”? And Laura Walters of St Kilda, what is so mysterious about Hugh Grant, other than the intriguing question of why so many filmmakers have apparently needed someone to play the role of Hugh Grant?

Fortunately, this otherwise unsatisfying segment was rescued by David McColl, the 21 year old concierge from Brunswick West, who answered “My girlfriend, of course”, which makes him my official nominee for Seriously Sweet Dude of the Month.***

BUT WAIT THERE'S STILL MORE.

No visit to the land of mX is complete without a visit to the letters page. And that’s where the finest piece of correspondence in the history of the world ever was to be found. And it said:

“Whenever I buy a DVD I have to sit through a trailer telling me not to watch pirate movies. Yet Johnny Depp stars in one and the posters all say it is a must see film. Please make up your minds, Hollywood moguls. – Craig, CBD

Regular readers of this blog are no doubt wondering if I wrote that letter. No, I did not. That letter was written by Craig, and I am clearly not Craig.

This did make me wonder if I had a long lost identical twin brother, which makes sense if you think about it. Presumably my mother christened me “I’m not Craig” so people would not get the two of us confused.

In any case, Craig from the CBD, we salute you for not only having the sheer nerve to submit this appalling dad-joke for publication, but for finding the one place where such a travesty would actually get published (other than this blog right here, obvs). And I am lost in admiration when I pause to consider that you not only wrote this joke, but you then had the stunning audacity to suggest that every mogul in Hollywood was at fault here.

If we ever meet in real life, Craig from the CBD, I will rush to buy you a beer just before the entire universe explodes.









* This is actually a great idea and if they haven’t thought of this yet they really should have someone please ring Mary Murphy right now.

** Yo, I don’t know.

*** We may run this competition every month from now on. Nominations are now open, etc.

More cuteness? Yes

So, it's been a week or so and nothing much has happened except much not sleeping, mild distaste for my job and serious amounts of growing of new teeth. So, since I can't blog about the incredible amount of random weird stuff that happened at work this week because any of my colleagues who read blogs would instantly know it was me if they ever accidentally read this, it's time for much more of 'hey hi how cute are my childrens'.

Cherub is all giggly and trying to walk and eating whatever we feed him or he can steal from his big brother and there is much general gorgeousness. He has also started saying 'mumma' and 'dada' and on a really good day he'll sit in my arms and cling to my neck in a manner utterly reminiscent of a koala bear.

As for Bundle, he keeps finding new ways to be cute, but one of my favourites happened during a trip to the supermarket a couple of months ago. As we passed another small boy sitting in a trolley, that boy started bouncing up and down in his seat. Bundle pointed at him and said "Bunny!"

He followed this up by bouncing up and down in his own seat and announcing "Bundle's bunny too."

Also, I love reading stories with him when there are pictures of bunnies, just so I can ask what sound a bunny makes and get the inevitable reply of "Rabbit rabbit."

SO CUTE.


And just one question. My two year old son now takes showers by himself. Is this normal?

Five reasons to read this

In great news for those who want to read even more stuff about me, Aussie Rock Chick has tagged me for a meme which I think means I have to tell you five things you didn’t already know. And here they are.

1. I once marched in the Anzac Day parade.

The reason I have never mentioned this is that, having done so, I have to admit that I was in a marching band.

This was a very long time ago.

My favourite thing about the whole experience was that there were clearly more veterans than marching bands so after we had marched the whole length of the parade route we had to get on a bus and go back to the start and do it again.

Surely people watching the parade must have noticed this.

2. I own a sarong

And I wear it often, although mostly just around the house rather than to work or something.

3. I have read more than on edition of Creation Ex Nihilo

This is (or possibly was?) the official magazine of the Australian creation science movement. An old friend of the family was right into this whole creation science thing (was it just a coincidence that he was from Queensland?) and because a certain member of my family was silly enough to express a polite interest rather than screaming DUDE YOU’RE A NUT, this guy decided to give us a free subscription for a year.

The good news is they only published it quarterly. Still, that meant at least four occasions where I could get together with my brother and sisters and spend a good half hour mocking this thing.

It’s kind of the written equivalent of watching The Bachelor.

4. I am surprisingly amused by the word ‘quiche’

Okay, this one is a bit slack. But true.

Quiche quiche quiche quiche. See, it’s just hilarious.

5. I once wrote poetry for a Pizza Hut waitress

For reasons that escape me, a few of my friends decided we should celebrate my 18th birthday by going to all you can eat night at Pizza Hut. From there, it was inevitable that we would use the menu as a scorecard. It was not necessarily inevitable that we would all decide to entertain our waitress (a delightful young lady named Coral) by writing poetry for her, but I suppose that if you hang around with people who were destined to help invent the game of “You’re not Craig”, this is the sort of stuff that will happen.


Do I have to tag people? Anyone reading this who has not already done it can do it. If they want to. And don't forget to let us know when you do.

Let's get ready to ramble

And we’re back from a flying trip north for the medieval wedding of the year. It went surprisingly well.

We flew out on Friday morning. I was, as ever, thrilled that Virgin Blue have a policy of playing “Life is a Highway” every time I get on one of their planes. Cherub coped with his first flight remarkably well and Bundle giggled all through take off which can only be a good thing.

We had lunch with Honey Bear’s father, drove across town to pick up a portacot from a friend, stopped to buy groceries (and I remembered everything on the list except nappies because I’m just that smart) and drove so much further across town that we ended up out the other side at our final destination for the day, Honey Bear’s sister’s property.

And we stopped for a minute.

Bundle was in for a busy weekend with his two cousins, both boys. After a few minutes of shyness, he saw their train set and from there everything was completely fine. Cherub also enjoyed the train set, but more for chewing on than for building and stuff.


Saturday morning started at some appallingly early hour. You know it’s too early when the roosters start crowing after you get up, but it is a pleasant sound if you are not trying to sleep through it.

I’m not sure exactly where most of Saturday went, although I seemed to spend most of it in a giant inflatable pool playing the elbow game with my nephews. Then it was time to dry off and suit up (in chain mail) and drive back into town for the wedding. Honey Bear was in the wedding party so we got there two hours early. This caused some small concern when I discovered that none of the family members or friends of the bride were in any way dressed according to the theme, and they all looked at me like I was a complete nut, which may be true but not because of the chainmail thing.

Fortunately, they all eventually got into their armour/ monk’s outfit/ selection of medieval dresses and all was well. At least half of the 30 guests ended up in costume, which is not too bad really.

After rocking the couple’s two week old daughter to sleep (which made me go temporarily insane with cluckiness but I’m better now) and moving a few tables and stuff, it was time for the wedding to begin. Despite my initial concerns about the wackiness of the whole thing, it was absolutely beautiful, and amazingly well planned considering that the groom has no organisational skills at all and the bride had been rather busy giving birth just recently. Despite all that, the vows, which they wrote themselves, were lovely and when the groom’s father read an Irish blessing at the end of the ceremony there was barely a dry eye in the place.

From the ceremony, it was straight to the reception, which was also in the backyard of the groom’s parent’s house. It was a wonderfully relaxed and informal evening, with speeches from anyone who wanted to make one, including, surprisingly, the caterer. One of my favourite moments of the night came when the groom’s father tried to give the caterer a bottle of champagne to say thank you but the unopened bottle he grabbed off the table turned out to be Passion Pop.

This is what happens when the bride and therefore half the guests are around 19 years old.

For me, the highlight of the night came when after three excellent speeches from the best man, the bridesmaid and the groom, it was the bride’s turn. She said “I haven’t planned a speech and I’m not getting up because I’m too tired. [raises glass] To booze!”

Fabulous.

We wandered back to the farm to find two children already in bed. Also fabulous.

Sunday passed in a whirl of more roosters, returning the portacot, coffee with one of Honey Bear’s oldest friends, another plane flight, a quiet drive home from the airport and then a pleasant hour spent sitting in the car in my carport with a good book, a cup of coffee and two sleeping children.

It’s Wednesday and I’m still exhausted. But I own a suit of armour which is really something I will never get tired of saying. Ever.

Is this a good idea?

After reading Dr Karl’s Mythconceptions article in the Age last Saturday, I have decided to start a new charity event. Basically, people will volunteer to act in a wacky, crazy and generally incomprehensible manner for a day. They will be sponsored to do this.

Sponsors can either pay on the basis of how many hours this completely mental behaviour continues for, or they can nominate a particularly poor decision they would like to see, in return for a suitably large donation.


The purpose of this annual event will be to fund education programs for people who actually believe things like “the earth is 6000 years old and all that stuff about fossils is a wacky conspiracy”. We will spend the millions of dollars that we raise teaching people to think first then draw conclusions, rather than starting with the conclusion and then bending reality to try to make it fit, employing every logic torturing device known to mankind in the process (and also, apparently, flat out lying).

Now all I need is a catchy name for my new charity event.

I’m thinking of….








Wait for it…..











And remembering that this is the name of an event where people are paid to act in a crazy manner……





It will be called…..





















Fund A Mentalist.









I’m so sorry.