The Ghost of Michael Jackson

I can't believe I'm doing a Michael Jackson post! My mum sent me this (thanks a bundle mum), unbelievable footage - watch carefully and make sure your volume is turned up!

Smoke and Dishwashers

As I got out of my car on Friday night I was greeted on the front verandah by Mr Chic, Crash and Rowdy. Crash blurts out "Mum, the dishwasher died". I walk in the house and it STINKS of an electrical burning smell. It turns out that Mr Chic heard a noise and ignored it figuring it may be the new neighbours moving in, then he smelt something and discovered gigantic plumes of smoke coming from the dishwasher. He ushered the boys into the loungeroom and returned to unplug it and ensure that it wasn't on fire. Thankfully it wasn't, but probably wasn't far from it. Smoke filled the house. So yes, the dishwasher really did die. But a kitchen fire was prevented.

Can we afford a new dishwasher? When my tax refund comes back in 2 weeks we should be fine. 2 WEEKS! Yes, surely we can wash things by hand until then right? Mr Chic wasn't all that keen on the idea and after half an hour of standing in the kitchen doing dishes I was cursing and of a similar opinion.

Mr Chic went to one shop, found one that he liked and bought it. It got delivered yesterday afternoon and is now installed.

Crash and Rowdy thought it was quite a novelty to wash up dishes by hand - they had never heard of such a thing and were keen to help, well for one set of dishes only.

By the end of Saturday we were exhausted and as the dishwasher was only partially installed (one pipe wasn't long enough), Mr Chic & I opted for an easy dinner of dips, cheeses, bikkies and smoked oysters - yumm (not to mention a few drinks).

Aaaaaah yes feet up and totally chillaxed!

Cougars

I loved this skit on Saturday Night Live awhile back - sending up "cougars". It cracked me up.

The Urban Dictionary has numerous definitions of "cougars":

"An older woman who frequents clubs in order to score with a much younger man. The cougar can be anyone from an overly surgically altered wind tunnel victim, to an absolute sad and bloated old horn-meister, to a real hottie or milf. Cougars are gaining in popularity -- particularly the true hotties -- as young men find not only a sexual high, but many times a chick with her shit together. "

"A 35+ year old female who is on the "hunt" for a much younger, energetic, willing-to-do-anything male. The cougar can frequently be seen in a padded bra, cleavage exposed, propped up against a swanky bar in San Francisco (or other cities) waiting, watching, calculating; gearing up to sink her claws into an innocent young and strapping buck who happens to cross her path. "Man is cougar's number one prey" "

"An attractive woman in her 30's or 40's who is on the hunt once again. She may be found in the usual hunting grounds: nightclubs, bars, beaches, etc. She will not play the usual B.S. games that women in their early twenties participate in. End state, she will be going for the kill, just like you."

Nova 96.9 have a cruise on tonight called "The Cougar Cruise" and I've been listening to the radio each day as they interview prospective "cougars" for this cruise. The main point being to ask the women "how low would they go", ie, what's the youngest age that the guy will be that they'd sleep with? (well there's no sleep happening I'm certain, but you know what I mean!).

Part of the qualification criteria for being a "cougar" is being over the age of 35. THIRTY FIVE. I turn 35 in October. If I was single does that mean I'd qualify as a "cougar" (presuming I'd be wanting to sink my claws into an innocent young and strapping buck who happens to cross my path, which being single, why wouldn't I).

BUT if I'm now out with my girlfriends having a few drinks will "young bucks" think we are cougars on the prowl? Or perhaps the wedding rings, bags under our eyes and stray bits of vomit and snot from the kids on our clothing give us away?

Incidently - the red-headed cougar in the above picture is a celebrity we all know. Can you guess who?

The Addiction

Crash has a problem and we don't really know what to do. He's a thumb sucker. Here he is with one of his "blankies" - this was taken awhile back now and the blankies have gone to the Dummy Fairy who took Rowdy's dummies one night. Crash liked to hold the corner of a blankie whilst sucking his thumb. We were hoping that the removal of the blankies would solve the problem. Not so. He now holds the corner of a tea towel, or a cushion, or the blanket on his bed, or his shirt. It's not all the time, mostly when he's bored or tired.

We've tried sending him to the naughty chair every time we catch him. Mr Chic has threatened amputation of his thumb. I've painted on that stuff on his finger nail that is supposed to taste gross, but he didn't care.

We asked him last night "are you a baby?". "No I'm a big boy" "well why are you sucking your thumb? do big boys suck their thumb?" "No" he replied "But I can't stop!".

We don't want him teased when he goes to school next year and we also don't want a gigantic orthodontist bill when he's older!

Help!

A Luverly Smell

I love freesias. I do. I know there are those that think they really are an out of control weed but I love them. I love how the smell of them just reminds me of spring. I never get sick of smelling them. My Grandma has them growing in her garden and all through her grass. Her lawnmower man gets frustrated at her insistence that the grass cannot be mowed at certain times of the year because of the freesias.

Grandma likes to send me home with bunches of freesias however I've discovered that both Mr Chic and Rowdy suffer from hayfever so freesias aren't allowed in the house. So this time I've taken them with me to work and they sit on my desk in the corner. The fragrance is amazing. The ants living in the freesias and playing hide and seek with me are not so amazing.

Giving Up Wine

I was walking down the street when I was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless woman who asked me for a couple of dollars for dinner.

I took out my wallet, got out ten dollars and asked, 'If I give you this money, will you buy wine with it instead of dinner?'

'No, I had to stop drinking years ago', the homeless woman told me.

'Will you use it to go shopping instead of buying food?' I asked.

'No, I don't waste time shopping,' the homeless woman said. 'I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive.'

'Will you spend this on a beauty salon instead of food?' I asked. 'Are you nuts!' replied the homeless woman. I haven't had my hair done in 20 years!'

'Well, I said, 'I'm not going to give you the money. Instead, I'm going to take you out for dinner with my husband and me tonight.'

The homeless Woman was shocked. 'Won't your husband be furious with you for doing that? I know I'm dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting.'

I said, 'That's okay. It's important for him to see what a woman looks like after she has given up shopping, hair appointments, and wine.'

September Approaches

September is always a busy month and in a week it will be here along with Spring although it feels like it's here already the weather has been so balmy in the last week or so.

So September. Events in September are:

Birthday dinner for our dear friend (must organise babysitters)

Fathers Day

Lunch at a friend and client's

My girlfriend's 40th - although she lives near Coffs so we can't actually go

2 Nephew's birthdays

My Mum's birthday and Mr Chic's Mum's birthday

Fishing Club Presentation Night (must organise babysitters)

Day trip to Mittagong

And this does not include a stack of client work I have on at the moment and all the meetings that needs to go with that (and all after hours too).

Crazy I tell you.

I suppose I'll have to think about organising something for my birthday too as that's 3 days into October. Assuming that is, that I survive September.