And he had two daddies....

Right then, I'm outa here. Before I go, I hope you all have fabulous Christmases and New Years. And thank you all for reading and a bit thank you to my lovely commenters.

Now, a community service message from the girl whose been spending lots of time with the police. Two things.

1.Wear your seatbelt.
2.Don't speed.

I know it sounds naggy and boring, but I'm regularly seeing the results of what happens when people are seatbelt free and speed friendly. When it comes down to it, speeding cars are metal missiles and us old humans are merely flotsam and jetsam.

*Gets off soapbox*

I shall leave you with a New Zealand take on the Christmas story.



Merry Christmas !

Weather

Just currently we've got snowstorms raging through Europe, parts of Australia being bitch slaped by floods (ya what?) and New Zealand being bathed in glorious summer. (Not to mention general global warming, but since that's the loudest pupil in the class, it can just sit in the corner quietly for a moment).

Anyway, all of this aside, the prize for 'Best Attitude Towards Weather Being Hurled At You' goes to these boys from New South Wales in Australia. A clip sent to me by one of my 'Stralian cousins.



Eat your heart out, Pamela.

Persepective

The other day we were filming and it was about 27 degrees. We were all banging on about the heat, how hot it was and how we were struggling in it.

I got back to work and sitting waiting for me in my inbox was a photo from a colleague just titled, 'Having a bad day?' And it was accompanied by this message 'Things could be worse, we could all be filming in Scotland....a scene from a friend's day a work yesterday.....'

In a nano second my heat-while-working whinging paled to complete insignificance.

Sound Advice

I've heard this advice and I can one hundred percent vouch for its authenticity.

'Kids, don't drink and drive.....kids, don't drive when there's a warrant out for your arrest.'

That's my community service message for the day.

You're welcome.

Ridiculous question for the day.

'Kate, have you seen Jackass in 3D?'

Holy Shitbags Batman...

...were you aware that people can be this stupid?

I have no idea who Priscilla Caputis is, apart from the fact that she loves putting poison into her lips. Either that, or she's really allergic to something she's just wrapped her laughing gear around.

I shouldn't be hanging around Awful Plastic Surgery cause, photo by photo, it makes me despair over how we're evolving... but it's like a car crash.

I.Just.Can't.Not.Look.

Lord Sleep. Don't mess with him.

In the very early hours of this morning I got a call from one of my team from work. It was concerning work and she was working (and before you ask, no, I'm not running a team of hookers). She needed an answer which was the difference between another four hours on the job or not.

But I digress.

The first thing she said was, 'I'm really sorry for waking you up'. And it got me thinking. (There was quite a bit of thinking that went on in the two hours that it took me to get back to sleep).

My question is, how come sleep has so much respect? ( I may have answered this question in the previous sentence, but I'm ignoring myself).

But think about it, you never want to ring someone too late at night - in case they are sleeping. If someone has gone off for an afternoon kindy, you tip toe around the house, to make sure you don't wake them up. As a species we don't really like to wake up anything that's sleeping - except cats, cause that's entertainment.

Is it as basic as the time it can take to get to sleep, or is there some other reason that I'm spectacularly missing ?

Or, is it just time to put sleep in it's place?

Walmart Fashion.

People of Walmart continues to entertain me, no end.

It's possibly because that's all my brain is capable of conjuring up for a post just currently. (Copy and paste is the fast food of blogging).

You know how reality television was born out of a writers' strike? People of Walmart and Awkward Family Photo are brought to you by me currently working a seven day week and feeling a little bit tuckered out at the end of the day.

Anyhou, it's self inflicted so I shall put the violin away. Instead! Behold these beauties.

Oh yeah. Giddy up. And below I think is her spiritual sister.
However I shall save the best till the last.

The Australian Office saw it and thought of me, bless her. And it was inspiration for this entire post.
I am without words. But I'm think I'm right when I say she's only wearing a pair of shorts.

She's only wearing a pair of shorts.

Which is okay if you're a hot bloke, or a wee ankle biter.

Otherwise it's wrong in so many ways.

Brutal.

Australian readers will already be aware of this ad.

But, as I'm currently doing a lot of work with the police, I am now getting my head around just how important these messages are.

And, boy, this one packs a punch.



Sadly, the people it should be punching may still think they're six foot ten and bullet proof. I really hope not.

From Planet State the Obvious.

The Pike Mine Disaster.

If one more newsreader asks a journalist in the field, 'What is the mood of the town tonight?' I will hurl a brick at the television.

I kid you, not. UPDATED!

Due to my complete inability to say no, I have found myself working seven days a week for, pretty much, an eight week stretch - give or take the odd day off.

I would like a cup of tea and a lie down however, on the upside, I am learning a whole lot of stuff across a diverse range of subjects. Some of it more practical than others.

Things like; if you want good veggies - start with good soil, don't plant your Nicotiana flowers beside your tomatoes, beagles are escape artists and, if you don't want to get your car stolen in Auckland, avoid buying a Subaru.

I had heard that last chestnut of advice from the police...and then life just went ahead and reinforced it.

Yesterday morning a woman I work with woke up to discover their car had been stolen, right outside their bedroom window. Their alarmed and locked car, no less.

Even more strange was that, few hours later, stuff from their car was discovered in another stolen, abandoned car. ( I think the moral of this story is, don't try and understand the minds of criminals).

My colleague and her partner were understandably a bit gutted; they don't have the time to get their car stolen, they've got a small child, they need two cars as they both work in different directions, it's nearly Christmas and they're about to get married.

So there was delight this afternoon when the police rang to say they had found their car. And it was in one piece. Joy! Immediately her partner left work to get to go and pick it up.

But it wasn't going to end as happily ever after as they'd hoped. An hour later she got a call from her partner, he'd turned up to where their car had been found...only to discover that it had been stolen a second time.

And yes, it was a Subaru.

UPDATE: Last night my colleague's partner was driving around their suburb, SPOTTED their stolen car driving and, a police helicopter and dog chase later, their stolen car is now recovered!

Now that's a story you can't make up.

Volkswagen Stereotype.

So, if I get it right, all Volkswagen drivers have milk in their tea?

Apologies for the animal week.

I reckon whoever invented this animal was on some seriously good drugs at the time.

Either that, or the animal is on something rather synthetic and strong.

More evidence here.

Now, could someone tell me what that critter actually is ?

I have one thing to say...no, make that two...or three...

There are three potential explanations to the following..

1. This cat has huge balls.

2. This cat is dumb as a box of rocks.

3. This cat is exercising his right as a cat (i.e superior to all species).

What think you?

P.S Apparently the above isn't working - try this one.

When family photos make you feel anxious...

I thought it was time for some more treats from Awkward Family Photo. Today, we go in order of creepiness.

First up we go with the family that dresses together...

...will have long term scarring effects on their children.

Next, I would just like to point out the terror that is in that dog's eyes. Possibly he's concerned that his owners harbour amibitions of being suicide bombers?
And I think the next two come first equal in being uneasily wrong.

Please tell me that these two below are still getting dressed. However I fear I'm wrong, cause doesn't the bow tie generally come after the shirt ?

And this is what you get when you cross Tarzan and Christmas - a whole lot of wrong.

Guns and koalas.

Here's Frodo, the joey koala from Queensland who has been shot fifteen times by some heartless fecker.

There is so much support out there for the wee fella, that he even has his own fundraising page Everyday Hero - $150 and rising if you care to throw some dollars in his direction.

But I have a question. Does he get so much attention because baby koalas are impossibly cute? Would people care so much if he was a shot lamb? A shot rat ? A shot baby giraffe ? (Yes, I believe a shot baby giraffe would also have his own fundraising fan club.)

I suppose baby-anything has heartstrings pulling power, however I'm vaguely suspicious that baby koala does tend to be one of the rock stars in the cute-animal stakes.

That's three people's days' wrecked.

From my apartment I have just seen a car like this.....crash into a car like this...
...and then into a car like this....
She's one hell of a way to kick off a Friday night.

This just in from The Australian Office.

Except her version was accompanied by Rod Stewart's 'I am Sailing'.

Reason #6574 why I don't want to go on a cruise.

Just another day at the office.

Today I spent the afternoon out with the police.

Lights, sirens, catching bad guys, accidents, going really fast to get to accidents and one loon.

It was sensationally cool.

The end.

Jetstar and me are over.

I have to say, I used to be completely perplexed by the pricing of airline tickets.

How come, if I wanted to Auckland - Queenstown on the 15th of November and return on the 18th of November (just randomly selected days), it could cost me anywhere from $268 (Jetstar) return to $824 (Air New Zealand on a fully flexible fare) ?

I'm pleased to report that I now have the answer, the difference is getting there.

And I've worked this out the hard way.

This year, for one reason or another, I have spent loads of time flying. If it's for work, I'll go Air New Zealand but if I'm paying for it, I'm seduced by the lowest fare. If it's a matter of twenty dollars or so, I'll go for Air New Zealand, otherwise I'll suck it in and go for, you guessed it, Jetstar.

To be fair, generally they've always been pretty reliable - however when it's come back to bite me on the arse, it's bitten me hard.

The first time was, when my flight that should have landed at 9pm landed at 2 a.m. That was due to fog - but the worst thing about that was that my Jetstar flight was the ONLY flight that had been affected by fog.

After that flight I swore and declared Jetstar were dead to me. Stomped around trumpeting, 'Never again!', 'Fat Chance Airlines', etc etc.

However.

Due to a combination of things - time heals all wounds and I'm very shallow - less than three weeks later I found myself merrily checking in at the Jetstar counter.

However after my latest Jetstar debacle my relationship with Jetstar is OVER. Fried. Ended.

I'd done a last minute change of flight, changing it for a sparrow's fart the morning after I had originally booked . I needed to be on a shoot by 9 a.m and this flight got me in at 7.40 a.m. I checked the weather, which was going to be good, and booked away. Things were going to plan.

Arrived at the airport at 5.45 am. Things still going to plan.

Stood in queue. Read the television screen : CANCELLED.

Plan Royally Screwed.

To cut a very long story short, why did they cancel mid check in? Weather ? Mechanical issues? Earthquake? Crew been abducted by aliens ?

Nope, nope, nope and possibly.

Crewing issues.

Crewing issues ?

How come you discover, half way through your check in that you have crewing issues?

At least the time when my flight departed five hours later than it had been originally scheduled, they texted me four hours earlier to tell me about it.

Anyway, I screamed around to Air New Zealand and got myself on the next flight, which got me to work 15 minutes late. Air New Zealand saved the day.

But you know what the irony is? All the money I have saved by flying Jetstar this year I blew on that Air New Zealand flight.

When I went to write this blog I did a Google search to find out other people's Jetstar stories and my search didn't just reveal stories - but an entire site dedicated to disgruntled Jetstar passengers titled, unsurprisingly Don't Fly Jetstar. It makes for an entertaining wee read.

Currently Jetstar's tag line is 'Low fares, good times.'

I have a new one for them. 'Jetstar:fly with us if you don't need to get there'.

Anyone else been Jetstarred?

Another question.

Is this photo for real or has someone photoshopped man-arms on to Madonna?

Question.

Could someone please tell me why telecommunications companies, banks and other such organisations say to you at the end of a call, 'Is there anything else I can help you with?'

I know that they're supposed to be asking in goodwill but it always seems to me to be the most pointless question they could ask. And I'm sure all the people who ask that question get really sick of all the smarty pants who say things like:

'Yes, I'm having trouble finding the lever to open my bonnet on my car, you wouldn't know where it is, would you?'

'The winning lotto numbers would be a start'.

'You don't happen to know a good mechanic, do you ?'

Also it's not like they're trying to upsell, 'Would you like fries like that?'

So if someone could explain the logic behind why hundreds of support staff are forced to endure the daily torture of having to ask that question, that would be peachy.

And is it just a New Zealand thing, or is this an international problem?

Sigh.

(Small font means I'm whispering).

Some people try and rid the world of famine and poverty and then there's shallow and flippant types like me who go on crusades to rid the world pointless questions.

Bloody lucky I'm not an animal cause Noah would have never let me on the Arc.

I turn my back for a couple of decades and suddenly the Street is not what it used to be.

Okay, so I'm not it's target audience but check out this from Sesame Street. (Ten bucks says you don't last longer than thirty seconds).



Me, I prefer vintage Sesame Street.

I love Oscar. Think Johnny is pretty special as well.

And while we're talking about Oscar, did you know he started out orange ? And that in Germany he's called Rumpel aus der Tonne which means Rumpel from the wheelie bin.

Being an uber star, he's featured in a handful feature films and few other telly shows (Scrubs, The Simpsons, Southpark to name a few) but I do love what he said in The Great Muppet Caper. Miss Piggy had just hurled Peter Ustinov (now she's one broad who catapults the term 'high maintenance' into a whole different league) into a pile of boxes and Oscar emerges and says, 'Hey, what's all the racket?'

Peter Ustinov: 'What are you doing here?'

Oscar: 'A very brief cameo'.

Peter Ustinov: 'Me too'.

My shoes don't eat meat.

Brother-in-law alerted me to this event. (I'm linking to it, cause you wouldn't believe me otherwise).

But just so do you don't have to go there (gawd listen to me, these days a click is even a drag), here it is in all it's glory.

'We're hosting another party selling certified cruelty free women's shoes. Anyone interested in women's vegan shoes are welcome to come along.

For those of you have been to previous parties, please note that we have a new range!

This party is hosted by Vegan Style.

Feel free to forward this invitation on to anyone you think might be interested.'

Hope to see you there :)

Okaaaaaay. Obviously I have a few questions.

Since when did shoes evolve so highly that they could eat, (apart from your bank balance or your heels) ?

Or, have I got it wrong and are they cruelty free cause they're a state of the art, ergonomic masterpiece that won't give you blisters or make your feet hurt?(But just make you look sensible).

Hmm not sure.

Anyway, if you're interested pop along to 50 Hope St in Spotswood, Melbourne tomorrow between 4.00- 5.30 and you can check out their new range.

Somehow, I can't see me getting there.

Question.

Just how excited are those Spanish miners right now ?

Except, possibly, for the guy whose coming out to meet both his wife and his lover.

You know you're living in 2010 when...

...your mother and sister are in Uzbekistan and your 73 year old father rings you and says, 'I felt like some boiled eggs, then I realised I had no clue how to make them. So, I Googled it......'

Outstanding.

And on that note, I've got some work to be getting on with, back in a week.

Tootlepip!

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

Okay, I will stop stealing other people's discoveries, like small furry animals. And I promise I will start putting some thought into my posts, but I'm lazy and this is just too ridiculously good to ignore.

I found the sleepy kitty over at Popbitch.



Now, if you're thinking that the kitty cat scored an epic fail on finding a comfy bed, well, think again.



Proof that if you really want to sleep in a teacup, you can.

Particularly if you're a kitten.

Australia's Next Top Model...or not.

Evidence that,on some days, being Sarah Murdoch really does suck. (You'll need to watch it to the end, and if you don't know anything about this - I recommend you do as you're told).



Today I am really pleased I am me.

When I grow up I don't want to be Donatella Versace.

S0 I was over at Awful Plastic Surgery (as you do) and look what I found.

A really big reason to not go under the knife.

I know you may not believe me but.... these two people below really are the same person.

And there wasn't even a car crash involved. The only difference between the two is quite a number of invasive facial procedures and a small pile of years.

I have to say Donatella circa 1991 is a dead ringer for Martina Navratilova.

Donatella in the 21st century is just plain creepy. I bet her plastic surgeon loves her, though.

As well as the person who manufactures the poison for her lips. They've struck Donatella gold.

I think this is yet another example of my theory, 'The higher we evolve, the stupider we become'.

Warning: Do not watch this if you're feeling a little squirmy.

Or if you're about to eat.

Brother-in-law sent it to me and, while I was watching it, my appetite went straight to jail, it did not pass go and it most certainly did not collect $200.

So, naturally I'm sharing.

*Runs quickly out of the room*

I think it's the randomness of it that appeals to me.

This is one of the places part of the ceiling in my old office in Christchurch ended up after the earthquake......as well as all over the floor.

I want that cat's number....

...cause s/he's looking pretty accomplished in the art of making people feel better.



Just as long as those claws are filed to within an inch of their life, I am lining up behind Spot for my turn.

I don't even think Victoria Beckham would go near these, or maybe she would ?

Regular readers of this blog will know that there are times that I think Fashion is a nasty, evil type who gently mocks us.

Currently she's channelling Chinese designer Guo Pei.

I never thought I'd say it, but I reckon ski boots would be more comfortable than these puppies.

I surprised there aren't small spinning wire treadmills with mice running around frantically.
The double heel is an interesting concept but not one that I would run with, though.
'Honey, I'm just nipping down to the supermaket, be back in a jiffy.'

Okay so maybe, just maybe, they're intended for an art gallery or museum and not possibly for everyday use but why ruin a good story?

That would be boring.

Okay, she's making a movie and I'm not...

...she could buy small Pacific nations and I couldn't.

She has an army of staff and I have.... my multiple personalities (but we all get along just fine).

However in light of the staff situation, I think one of them could have advised her that perhaps there was a better look lurking in her wardrobe? Maybe?

Cause I reckon one day she will see this photo and promptly fire her staff for failing to say, 'Love, you're looking like a bag lady. Do not leave the house.'

Or am I missing something ?

Someone was 'aving a larf at my expense, I am convinced.

On Saturday I heard Harry Ricketts, an Associate Professor in English, Film Theatre and Media Studies at Victoria University, being interviewed on National Radio.

And it reminded me of a time that I made a sensational fool of myself.

I am talking a gloriously, sensational fool of myself. We're going professional here.

I was doing an interview with him so I turned up at his home, crew in tow and knocked on the door.

And he kindly welcomed us in.

About now I'd like to say that it all went swimmingly to plan, but no. This is me we're talking about.

I led the charge, following him down the hallway like normal people do.... but then proceeded, with absolute no apparent reason, to fall spectacularly on my face.

I was taking 'falling on your face' to a new level.

My dignity took a sabbatical and there I was left, trying to gather myself, and pretend that nothing hurt.

Needless to say, the crew were merciless in taking the piss out of me, falling about in stitches, they thought I added huge value to their afternoon.

Harry was generous about it; vaguely concerned...incredibly polite....a teensy bit embarrassed on my behalf...but I knew, at the end of the day, he thought I was a goose. Just like the crew told me I was.

But the whole irony of the situation, and here's the thing that really gets me, I was interviewing him about.......comedy.

It still makes me squirm.

So that's my morning talk, please can some of you share ?

Dear Mother Nature

Could you please stop bitch slapping Canterbury?

They're really sick of it.

Love from the rest of New Zealand.

At least brickies have got job security.

My Saturday started at 4.43 a.m with my phone ringing.

'Have you just had an earthquake?'

'No.'

'We've just had a massive earthquake'.

'Oh Jesus.'

I immediately leapt out of bed, Googled 'recent earthquakes' and ended up here. There, just above Andreanof Islands in Alaska which registered a measly 2.6 (closer inspection did reveal it was an aftershock, though) was Christchurch New Zealand, with a seven after it's name.

Now, if something is going to make you shit yourself, let me assure you, that well and truly did.

Obviously it was nothing compared the terror, fear and subsequent heartbreak that Cantabrians suffered yesterday morning and are going to continue to suffer for some considerable time.

But since I wasn't dealing with basic things like survival and shock, my immediate thought was - how bad was it going to become? Exactly what was the extent of the damage going to be? How many deaths ?

At first, when journos were still scrambling from their beds, the only information on National Radio was coming from people who were texting in and all I could think of was, 'At least they can text in.'

I was terrified that someone was going to discover a suburb full of dead people.

Thankfully, no.

I immediately started texting people that I care about to see if they were alright. It was interesting how the tone of the texts changed during day as, once the initial terror wore off, it seemed that an adrenalin high then kicked in, then later on, sadness, as reality kicked in.

I'll share a selection.

'Freaked out but ok.'

'Chimney's gone, house like bomb site and strange piles of silt in yard. Cut feet and bruises but, I'm good really.'

'We are all good. Lost the chimney, but we are fine. Bit worried about insertnameofwife's shop, cause we can't get to it.'

I replied: 'Heard about looting on radio, but if it's on the radio, it would have come from police, and if it came from police, they're on to it.'

Him: 'Cool, I will keep my cape and undies under lock and key for the meantime then..'

Me: 'Yes, Superman'.

'Lost lots of glassware and both the chimneys gone but we're all good. I've been doing some shabby brick work on the roof, which I've finished. Now just sitting in the sun being lulled to sleep by the gentle aftershocks. Ah! So restful. Like a hammock, but better.

'A disaster zone, just trying to clean up, very sad. How are you ?'

Hold on a moment, you've just been in a massive earthquake, I'm on solid ground and you're asking me how I am? Wow, that's generosity of spirit.

That shot is just outside my old office. Needless to say, it's fully screwed.

Something like this is Mother Nature yet again (Haiti earthquake, China earthquake, that volcano I can't spell, let alone pronounce, Pakistan floods) showing us how insignificant we are.

I prefer it when she ignores us.

Admit it, it's a bit like a car crash, you can't look away.

Sorry, to do this to you twice in one week but blame Brother-in-law, he made me. More delight for you, this time from People of Walmart.

In no particular order, here we go. Giddy up.

Okay, hands up who skipped deportment lessons.

Oh my stars, I've just realised that's not a brown belt round the middle. It's the flesh component to her ensemble.
Do you think his top shrunk, or his top grew?
I think this man is glorious.
And finally....
...I'm dying to know what shoes she has finishing her outfit.

Happy Friday!

My, how time flies.

I have now lived in Auckland for two jars of peanut butter.

That's all.

Just when you thought the internet was out of surprises...

Regular readers of this blog will know how much delight I get out of sites like Awkward Family Photo and People of Walmart.

Knowing this bordering-on obsession of these sites, an old friend of mine alerted me to this post that tells me there is a site dedicated to 'inappropriately toned discussions of various unfortunate persons' social networking profile pictures, Slavic style'.

Oh joy.

I particularly like the way the writer describes some internet surfers as internet-trash-scouring-philistines.

Yup, you got me in one.

Anyhou, because I'm shallow and flippant, accompany me while I go take the piss out of people I don't know.

If I'm not mistaken, there is either some serious rug wallpaper going on there or this is from a scene dropped from Inception.

Don't know about you, but I suspect Vavara from Moscow has been drinking.

This really does bring new meaning to, 'taking the piss'.

Apparently Svetlana is 25.

And now, for my finale. I think we potentially we have a match made in heaven.

I think we've found Mr Slasher's perfect mate.

And let me just remind you of one thing before you judge me harshly. These shots are from these peoples' social networking pages. They've posted them, knowing that the internet is not an exclusive members-only club.

Love from your friendly internet-trash-scouring-philistine.

Garfield, eat your heart out.

'

Could someone please explain ?

When Crocodylidae turn cute.

Yesterday I went to my six year old niece's ballet recital.

Apparently, they had been practicing for weeks and she was very excited/nervous about it. They were performing an adaptation of Peter Pan in front of an audience of over four hundred.

'What is your role?' I asked, when I arrived.

'A cwrocodile.'

Now, I know you're thinking that is the equivalent of being a tree but, I'll have you know, she was a sensational cwrocodile.

And she stood head and shoulders above the other seventeen cwrocodiles.

(That is a complete lie, they all looked exactly the same. The only way we could pick her was cause she was the shortest and was grinning like a loon).

Our cwrocodile was on stage for about two minutes.

The recital went for about two hours.

And it was worth every second.

Photoshop:tricking people since 1990.

Since I got completely sucked in by photoshop in my post below (due to being eternally optimistic, naive and not that bright), I would like to ask all you photoshop trainspotters whether the photos below are photoshopped or not.

(Okay, you're not trainspotters, just smarter than me).

The story goes that in a zoo in California , a mother tiger gave birth to a rare set of triplet tiger cubs. Unfortunately, the cubs were born prematurely and died shortly after birth.

The mother tiger started to decline in health, and the veterinarians felt that the loss of her litter had caused the tigress to fall into a depression. The doctors decided that if the tigress could surrogate another mother's cubs, perhaps she would improve.After checking with many other zoos across the country, they found that there were no tiger cubs of the right age to introduce to the mourning mother.

(I would like to point out at this stage that there appears to be no consideration for the other mother tiger who they were intending on taking them from, anyhou back to the story).

The veterinarians decided to try something that had never been tried in a zoo environment. They rustled up a litter of weanling pigs. The zoo keepers and vets wrapped the piglets in tiger skin and placed the babies around the mother tiger.

And here is the proof.


This email was sent round our office and, while everyone else was cooing with delight, I was saying, 'I bet there's one really pissed off mother pig out there as well as a rather cold tiger.'

My other thought was that they'd just gone further down the food chain, found some cats and wrapped them in pig skin and given those to the mother pig.

Anyway, you photoshop experts, is the wool being pulled over our eyes yet again ?

One of these things is not like the other one.

My fabulous 82 year old uncle sent me this piece of advice...'When you are in deep shit, look straight ahead, keep your mouth shut and say nothing'.

Accompanied by this photo.

I'm picking that fox just won the fox equivalent of Lotto.

And I'm giving the photo the benefit of the doubt and I'm refusing to admit that I may have been outsmarted by Photoshop.

*Closes her eyes, puts fingers in her ears and starts chanting 'Mary had a little lamb' over and over again.*

The New Yorker

I was working yesterday and one of the guys told me about a cartoon in The New Yorker that he'd recently read. It was of a guy who had been pulled over by a cop. Underneath was written, 'I wasn't texting Officer, I was building a ship in a bottle.'

I laughed like a drain.

Wise advice.

Last night I was having a glass of wine with a colleague and we were discussing two other colleagues who have recently both been viciously bitch slapped by Life.

'At the end of the day,' she said pragmatically as she stubbed out a cigarette, 'we're all dying. We've just got to make sure we do some really cool shit before we do.'

I think I may get that etched in stone.

I shall never complain about the size of my garage again.

An old friend of mine sent me this..



I have no clue what this man is saying, but I think he is sensational.

Because I'm now obsessed with....

...Awkward Family Pet Photo, I simply cannot resist from inflicting these on you. (Don't fret, it's not as bad as pinky in post below).

The word for today is beige.

B.E.I.G.E

Beige.

And don't you like the art direction in this shot ? The hydrangeas, the picket fence...
When I first saw this photo, I thought the rabbits were guinea pigs (well, guinea pigs with large ears) and my brain immediately took me back to horror of the time I encountered 85 of them.

Oh no, I have successfully creeped myself out.

Have they invented brain colonics yet?

Oh sweet mother of god....

....look what Fat Sparrow (she's not posting regularly right now, she's busy) has shown me.

If you spend a bit of time here, you'll know I waste a lot of time over at Awkward Family Photos, however I've now discovered a whole new world. I'd like to welcome you to the spooky world that is Awkward Family Pet Photos.

I just want to say to that puppy, 'Just because your owners (and I want to emphasize, owners) really want to be reindeer, doesn't mean you have to share their dream. Oh and, ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!'

The family that gets strangled together....
Sorry about posting that one.The horror. And, yes, your arse does look big in that.
The woman wants to know who the dog's hairdresser is.

And finally one that I just don't get. I mean, the first thing that springs to mind is, 'First you must catch the cat...'

Thank you, Countess.

Countess Interrupted (This is all about me! Don't like it... piss off!) has given me a Cherry on Top Award. Which is very kind of her.

Protocol dictates that I tell you three things about me. So in no particular order, here we go...

*I'm good at throwing. But if you spend every morning for eight years throwing stones into the nearby dam while waiting for the school bus, competing against your sister, your brother and the three neighbourhood boys - there really is no excuse.

* When I was trying to get my first job in television, I was living in Australia. I had to send the producer ten story ideas from the newspaper for a children's show. I hadn't watched the show (granted, not my sharpest move) but sent in my ten story ideas and, in due course, got the rejection call, 'I think you're more suited to current affairs', he said.

Now, I really wanted that job. So I immediately sat down (still without watching the show) got ten more story ideas out of the paper and sent them to him with a letter saying, 'I think you're being a xenophobic, narrow-minded worry wart who is showing his age, so I'm giving you another chance.' I attached balloons to my application and couriered my second application over to him.

I got the job.

*I am outrageously bad at booking flights. But that possibly doesn't surprise you, especially those who know me.

And now there has to be a photo... sorry, couldn't decide...

I have a thing for the thing for beaches and the moon.

And finally, I must play it forward, so here we go:

Injaynesworld

Infantasia

Tagged, you're it !