Slices Of Life

Many successful and classy bloggers give alot of themselves. Whereas I just give alot of crumpet. Some of the more affecting bloggers provide a window to their lives and invite everyone to peer in. Normally I find peering at crumpets more interesting but I’ve decided to experiment with a change of pace. I’m going to make like a “normal” blogger and give you some slices from my life.

This is how pretty much every day begins. I enjoy a ration of 10 minutes of blissful alone time whilst I trot down to the beach to get a “real” coffee. Seeing the sun come up over the ocean is merely a bonus.

There are many crumpets out training at this time of day.

There are many crumpets out training at this time of day.

Its all down hill from this point onwards.

Its all down hill from this point onwards.

Back at home I have



and basil out the wazoo.

Its faulty. (Hands up who got that very poor TV pun)

Its faulty. (Hands up who got that terrible TV pun)

I’ve mentioned the out of control bougainvillea in previous posts. Dadabulous finds it therapeutic to hack at it with a lethal looking hedger trimmer. He tells me he is training for the zombie apocalypse. I could take this as a sign that my husband has a) played too many computer games and b) watched to many episodes of The Walking Dead. Instead I choose to take comfort in the fact that he is skilling up for the inevitable zombie Armageddon. It helps me rest easier at night.

Bougainvillea for Dadabs to hack at.

Bougainvillea for Dadabs to hack at.

Lamest excuse ever to post a pic of Andrew Lincoln. But who needs an excuse - he is a crumpet.

Lamest excuse ever to post a pic of Andrew Lincoln. But who needs an excuse – he is a crumpet.

Here’s something I never thought I’d have. A pine.

No not Chris Pine.

No not Chris Pine.


An actual pine tree.

An actual pine tree.

I can see how you got confused there. Both are quite wooden. Still I wouldn’t remove either from the yard.

Do you ever do this – convert Sunday night’s roast into a curry with the help of a tin of coconut milk? I am turning into my mother,  your mother

and everybody else's freakin' mother.

and everybody else’s freakin’ mother.

Meanwhile I bake much but  I don’t like to talk about it.

Lets keep this quiet.

Lets keep this quiet.

Its my dirty secret.

Its my dirty secret.

Dadabulous recently acquired new office space in the middle of Hipsterville central. He immediately set about funkifying it. It was not enough that he built the board room table with his bare hands, he created a post modern art work to go with it.

Its a homage to the buildings industrial heritage.

Its a homage to the buildings industrial heritage.

I know you are wondering if the chains came from our own personal collection and whether the whips are missing them. You’ll be disappointed (or perhaps relieved) to hear that they were sourced from Ebay.

Step around the corner and you’ll encounter this. Its the definitive sign that you’ve landed on planet Software Developer. Yes really – my husband has an inflatable dalek in his office.

Our Dalek is looking a tad flaccid.

Our Dalek is looking a tad flaccid.

The inner city suburb where we work really should be renamed Funky Town. In stark contrast to the buttoned up world of stockbroking there is nary a suit to be seen. They are worn only by those foot soldiers of Satan aka real estate agents who can be spotted patrolling the joint. Otherwise pretty young things prance about in leather hot pants and Doc Martens – and that’s just the blokes!!!!!!! No seriously – I have never seen so many skinny jeans, hipster beards and thick rimmed glasses concentrated in such a small area. I luff it (to shamelessly borrow from another blogger who actually has some style).

Like the Gen Y’s I am getting in on the shorts as work wear action. Clearly I have an under supply of shame.

What to wear to work when your office is in Funky Town.

What to wear to work when your office is in Funky Town.

Meanwhile you know you’re in Funky Town central when its not a cafe – it’s a caffeine lab. I love what these people do in a test tube.

lab medI’ve given you gardening, fashion, a sunrise, baking, crumpets, another fine example of Dadabulous’ wood and a blow up toy. What more could you want in a blog?

Hows your life looking these days?

Happy Easter


PS: Congratulations to all those who rated in the Kidspot Village Voices. I’m not jealous, peeved or miffed in any way to have been completely overlooked this year. :-(




Postcards (& Other Randoms)

If I were Yoda I would say things like

yoda med

You have to imagine me doing the voice.

Yup – this really is me.

football meme med

World’s second most over used meme.

I’m not even interested in it from a crumpet perspective. I prefer men with necks and unsmushed faces. Moreover although I have absolutely no problem with brawn its brains I covet. For me when it comes to equations

Oh my Prof Brian.

size matters. Oh my! Prof Brian. (Potentially a new meme)

If you are one of the thousands of footie fans out there I really don’t mean to “dis” your passion. Nor do I mean to imply that anyone who plays league is unintelligent, although getting thwacked around the head every weekend can’t be good for you. Let me explain my position. I was born and bred in Sydney’s Sutherland Shire which means a rusted on allegiance to the Cronulla sharks. Mention this to anyone outside the insular peninsula and their reaction is inevitably

A Sharks fan? Fecking hilarious.

“A Sharks fan? Fecking hilarious!”

To the district’s eternal shame the “mighty” Sharks have never won a premiership, are cursed by a “finals hoodoo” and have an uncanny knack of “snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.”  They actually reached the grand final in 1978. I remember it clearly as it was a momentous occasion for my family and possibly the high light of my father’s life. Naturally we were crushed by the Manly sea eagles.

Nowadays Sharkies fans commiserate by circulating this sort of thing around social media.

sharks med


Cronulla meme med

As I have since escaped to the light side of the Georges River I could deny my past and start supporting the local team – the Eastern Suburbs Roosters. Yet my “Shireness” runs deep. I feel as though loyalty to the Sharks has been branded upon my very soul.


World’s most over used meme.

Its far far easier to feign complete disinterest. I’ve since reached a point where the disinterest is no longer feigned.


If you are part of the vast Australian middle class, you have probably spent many a child hood holiday in budget accommodation up and down our coastline. You are more than likely all too familiar with the local gift store and its plethora of tacky souveniers. Among the piles of shell jewellery

shell necklace med

and the ubiquitous kangaroo scrotum

and the ubiquitous kangaroo scrotums

chances are you’ve encountered this fair dinkum Aussie bloke

with remarkably well toned buttocks.

with remarkably well toned buttocks.

I swear I have seen him at every seaside location I have ever visited in this country. He really gets around. What’s more he’s been baring those gluts for donkey’s years. Admittedly this guy is always grossly out numbered by cards featuring scantily clad Aussie sheilas but we’re not interested in that.  The dude’s broad brim hat demonstrates a sensible approach to sun protection. I’m sure he remembers to slip, slop, slap – which would be an interesting event to witness.  Meanwhile this adorable little fellow doesn’t need to given that his sun screen is built in and soft to touch.  All Aussies know that koalas can really shred the tube.

A ridgy didge Aussie gromit.

A ridgy didge Aussie gromit.

This stuff really brings out the poet in me.

I love a sunburnt country

A land of naked rears

Of  random surfing koalas

And roos chugging cold beers.

roo med

Are you a rusted on sports fan? What are your favorite kitschy souveniers? And which memes are you completely over?



I'm bringing out all the classics today.

I’m bringing out all the classics today.


Your Inner Voice


I’ve just submitted my final TAFE assignment and I’ve got one more exam to go before the whole thing is done and dusted. I can almost taste the freedom. It’s so very, very sweet like sunshine and lolly pops.

What freedom tastes like.

What freedom tastes like.

I can’t tell you how motivated I currently am to kick on with my career. I really can’t. In fact I am positively chomping at the bit to throw on a bejewelled kaftan (a tent of magnificence ) and swan about like a professional in a variety of exotic locations. Palawa Island in the Philippines is a good enough place to start. Oh my this is some titillating travel porn.

This works for me.

This works for me.

This too.

This too.

I'm so excited and I just cant hide it.

I’m so excited and I just cant hide it.

Hold on a minute… Didn’t last week’s post also feature a stunning South East Asian island destination? Is this blog becoming repetitive?

Thanks Fass. Have I ever told you that you are HAWT?

Thanks Fass. How unusual to see you here and OMG you are still HAWT!!

Your Inner Voice

Now I’m going to veer off on a totally random tangent. It is said that the key to self love and hence happiness is changing your inner voice. Its an interesting concept. I am fed up with my nasally Shire girl whine*. I would much rather my inner dialogue took on the soothing tones of

Benedict Crumpet-batch

Benedict Crumpet-batch

Not to be confused with a batch of crumpets.

Not to be confused with a batch of crumpets.

The really awesome thing about this is that as it is my internal voice I get to write the script. This means the Crumpet-batch says lines like ” Hand me a microscope because girl your butt looks miniscule in those khaki shorts” and “I demand to see your birth certificate because there is no way you look 43″. He’s such a talented actor always gives an Oscar worthy performance. It is convincing enough to have me doing my own rendition of Summer Nights.

Well-a well-a well-a, huh. Tell me more, Tell me more.

Well-a well-a well-a, huh. Tell me more, Tell me more.

And so he tells me more. Things like – “Hey girl – I saw these in the supermarket and I just couldn’t resist getting them because they remind me of you. I can’t wait to try it out when I do the next load of washing”.

Small but mighty - is really putting a positive spin on it.

Small & mighty – is really putting a positive spin on it.

And ” I got this as well because

I'm so ready for your jelly".

I’m so ready for your jelly”.

Oh my – I can feel my self esteem swelling by the minute.

Do you ever indulge in travel porn?

Who would you like your inner voice to sound like?



* For those of you who are unaware of my shame – Dadabs and I were born and breed in Sydney’s Sutherland shire but didn’t meet until we were in our mid thirties and living in the inner city.

PS: My apologies to Melbourne Mum who is the biggest Crumpet-batcher in our blogging community (We’ve been disallowed from calling Benedict fans “Cumberbitches”-(http://melbournemum.com/2014/02/18/the-retort-files-cumberbitches/ ). Its only his voice I want – I swear.


Out Of Control

Normally I go about my daily business unconcerned about the reportage in the tattle rags but this headline gave me great cause for alarm.

Omigawd! Be alarmed!

Omigawd! Be alarmed!

Oh My!  KK’s butt is “out of control”. Does that mean KK’s famous derrière is a major threat to society? Has it morphed from a weapon of mass seduction into one of mass destruction? All I know is I’m worried.

This story conjures up the scenario deftly described in Andy Griffiths’ apocalyptic Bummageddon trilogy. The series starts with The Day My Mum Went Psycho – which is what KK’s appears to be doing right now! In the books twelve year old Zac Freeman is discombobulated (discom-BUM-ulated?) when his rear end keeps detaching itself and running away.  When he follows it one night he uncovers a global conspiracy (conspir-ASS-y?) of bottoms. The bums of the world are planning to render all of mankind unconscious by creating a planet wide fart. We can only hope for humanity’s sake that this is NOT what KK’s posterior has in mind.

KK's autobiography?

KK’s autobiography?

Meanwhile the Bummageddon series should be made into a movie franchise. It is hilarious (or as my father would say “a hairy ass”) and could turn KK into a major film star (because currently we are just not seeing enough of her ). Perhaps Miley Cyrus could co star as her rear end is not backward in coming forward. What are you waiting for Disney?

Miley comes forward backwards.

Miley comes forward backwards.

Speaking of bums – here is a well toned and bedazzled set.

Nice segue eh?

Nice segue eh?

I have not yet watched The Real Housewives of Melbourne or RHOM as it is affectionately known. However it has already taught me a thing or two. Firstly it has turned my preconceived ideas about Melbourne upside down. I apologize in advance to any Melbournites who may be reading for the gratuitous use of stereotypes. I thought that Melbourne prided itself of being a bastion of good taste, refinement and understated elegance unlike brash Sydney which has a harbor and beaches to compensate for it’s lack of couth. There’s nothing understated about the RHOM posse.

RHOM has also shown me what’s missing from my humble eastern beaches existence – SEQUINS and BLING. I probably should have learned this from the uber blog Faux Fuschia but there’s six real housewives so the message is amplified.  By contrast my life looks like this.

Real housewives of the eastern beaches.

Real housewives of the eastern beaches?

I wake up too late, throw a rumbled pair of khaki shorts over the Best and Less underwear I’ve slept in and do the school run before showering. Thankfully I have a hat and sunglasses to preserve my dignity. Being the eastern beaches everybody else manages to look effortlessly chic whilst doing the same thing. The real Real Housewives of the Eastern Beaches could be a blog piece in itself.

If RHOM is anything to go by its not only sartorial razzle dazzle that I lack.

One pair of angel wings - hunks included.

One pair of angel wings – hunks included.

I need to get me a set of angel wings and a pair of dark swarthy hunks to affix them. One hunk per wing is a pretty good ratio as far as I am concerned.

Finally in an argument which should be filed under “first world issues” Dadabs has forbade me from doing botox even though I am so ready for it. He views it as a vacuous and  narcissistic pursuit and believes inner beauty is far more important. ( He even says he doesnt care if I put on weight – bless him!). However for all his politically correct talk I suspect this is the real reason.

Dadabs would rather look at wrinkles.

Dadabs would rather look at wrinkles.

Have you watched the RHOM?

Do you share my concerns about KK’s renegade butt?



PS: I promise to raise the tone next week as I dont think I could go much lower.

Meanwhile – Richard Roxburgh! Nuff said.

RR med


How To Be A Dirty Old Lady

I wandered into one of my local coffee establishments and casually flipped through a publication entitled “Living The Dream”. I mistakenly thought it was an advertorial about coastal real estate when in fact it was a how to manual for grey nomads. It made me realize how tantalizingly close I am to fulfilling a long held dream of my own – the dream of becoming a dirty old lady. I’m ploughing into my mid 40s and analysis by the Ponds Institute has shown that my wrinkles are 15% deeper than they were a few years ago. I’ve even sprouted a few fresh ones. In the meantime I’m sure you’ll agree I haven’t become any more respectable – at least not on the inside where it counts.

Being a dirty old lady is an ignoble goal for us all to aspire to and if I can do it anyone can. Here are my best tips on how you too can live the dream of being of being a dirty old lady eastern beaches style.

1) Two of your attributes should be increasing in size as you age. They are your sunglasses and your husband’s bank balance. What did you think I was talking about dahling?

Your sunglasses like your husband's bank balance, can never be too big.

Your sunglasses like your husband’s bank balance, can never be too big.

2) Identify your worst bodily asset and flaunt the heck out of it. Afterall the Kim Kardashian has built an entire industry out of doing just that.

If it can work for KK it can work for Mumabs!

If it can work for KK it can work for Mumabs!

3) Be sure to wear your exercise gear when you frequent your local cafes. People will think your wealthy husband is funding your gym and coffee habit and you wouldn’t want to do anything to discourage this impression.

The right look for your local cafe.

The right look for your local cafe.

While we are on this topic

4) Female only gyms? Ha Ha Ha – That’s hilarious. You really had me going there.

5) Do not attend exercise classes. Do you really want to be in a room with 20 other women who are hawter than you? Go instead to the free weights area. Those boys will appreciate the audience.

Dont deprive him of an audience.

Dont deprive him of an audience.

6) Is your beach dominated by svelte honey skinned teenagers? ( I say YOUR beach because YOU like totally own it). Don’t be intimidated. Intimidate them right back by wearing skimpy bikinis for maximum cellulite exposure.

My cossies - be afraid! Be very afraid!

My cossies – be afraid! Be very afraid!

Alternatively out-bling the whippersnappers with your kaftan collection.

The louder the better

The louder the better

Do you need more inspiration? Here are some absolutely fabulous role models.

ab fab med

Sweetie dahling.

Being a man does not stop Dame Edna from being a dirty old lady.

Being a man does not stop Dame Edna from being a dirty old lady.

Betty White comes in like a wrecking ball. Isn't she gorgeous!

Betty White comes in like a wrecking ball. Isn’t she gorgeous!

I wanna rock it this hard when I'm 74!

I wanna rock it this hard when I’m 74!

I want to buy a motor bike with a side car and take off on a foodie adventure.

I want to buy a motor bike with a side car and take off on a foodie adventure.

The Queen of Dirty!

The Queen of Dirty!

Have you got any tips for me?

Who are your favorite dirty old ladies?




Tween Angst

According to my 6 (and a half) year old P1 this is a very uncool lunch box. Apparently your lunch box you  is a factor determining the pecking order in the playground. When I picked this up in Target I was unaware that I was purchasing social death for my child. In retrospect the fact that I was in Target should have given me the heads up. I guess as a mother I am an ignor-anus which is defined by the Dags Dictionary* as someone who is both ignorant and an asshole.

How uncool is this lunchbox?

How uncool is this lunchbox?

By contrast this lunch box is acceptable. Naturally P1 and P2 are squabbling over ownership. Don’t ask me why. To my parental eyes its like comparing Ryans Reynolds and Goslings. I can see very little difference in it myself and who cares when Fassbender is twice as hawt as both of them put together.**

This is socially acceptable - who knew?

This is socially acceptable – who knew?

I am informed that the Fassbender of the lunch box universe is the Smiggle range. (That wasn’t intended to sound rude but you’ve got to agree the words “Fassbender” and “lunchbox” belong in the same sentence) This was decreed by the arbiter of good taste and sophistication that is the girl’s eight year old cousin. No parental reasoning can stand in the way of that opinion. The tribe has spoken and it said “thou shalt have Smiggle”. I resisted P1′s whining and pleading for this particular number and now she has to deal with the daily humiliation of eating her play lunch from a lame pussy cat shaped vessel. I am well on my way to becoming a fully fledged embarrassing cow of a mother. Imagine how diabolical I will be by the time the girls hit their teen years. Mwah Ha Ha.

P1's object of desire

P1′s object of desire

With the new school year just commenced P1 has begrudgingly accepted the pussy cat face but only because “it will fall apart soon” . I guess I will be seeing you in Smiggle.

Another rite of passage signifying the transformation from tot to tween is the switch from ABC 4 Kids to ABC 3. P1 has deemed ABC 4 Kids “too babyish” and refuses to have it on. P2 echoes this sentiment but happily watches Play School when P1 is not around. If it has not happened yet in your household it will soon. It won’t be long before you too will be pondering whether the mildly risque but highly surreal material your child is watching is really age appropriate. Fans of Jimmy Giggle and/or Sportacus may find their child’s shift in viewing habits a little disappointing. Rest assured there is el mucho eye candy on ABC3. The problem is that the ABC3 crumpet looks like it can’t legally drink yet. Go ahead and oogle. You’ll make Stifler’s Mom proud.

This is you watching ABC3

This is you watching ABC3

P1′s current obsession is the program Total Drama Island. She loves this Survivor parody despite having no clue about the original Survivor. Apart from being an avalanche (sometimes literally) of toilet humor the show has introduced her prematurely to the world of teen dating and relating. It has also taught her some slightly dirty ditties. The other day she came out with “Hey Mum – Beans beans – they’re good for the heart”. I cut her off with “Yes I know that one darling” and we both cackled like grotty school boys. To top it off the show has given P1 her very first crush – the bad boy Duncan.  Last weekend at the beach I caught her writing in the sand with a stick “I love Duncan”. Better that than Justin Beiber. Like any worthwhile fan girl she has done her own artistic interpretation of her idol.

In case you cant tell P1's drawing is on the left.

In case you cant tell P1′s drawing is on the left.

Now I hate parents who blow smoke about their child’s talent as much as the next person but seriously I think its a really good drawing. Mock if you will but I think there’s some real artistic ability there.

Are you experiencing Tween Angst?

* Dags Dictionary by Richard Glover is a book about words that should exist – but don’t. With nearly 400 freshly minted words, and based on the hit ABC radio game.


** Some may disagree with this assessment but I have put my subjective opinion into a simple mathematical formula. You can’t argue with the math!

Michael Fassbender = 2 x ( Ryan Reynolds + Ryan Goslings)


Way Coooooool

The South Pole conjures up images of a godforsaken frozen wasteland. Any mention of the earths’ bottom end makes me think of those awful penguin movies – the ones that are supposed to teach us the true value of family. In reality those lecherous penguins hook up with a new squeeze every year. That isn’t monotony monogamy. Its a wasteland full of tarty birds.

A new squeeze each year.

Tarty birds

Its also a white back drop for intrepid teams of wanna be documentary film makers pushing their bodies, minds and souls to the absolute limit with some ridiculous challenge like pulling a year’s worth of supplies over thousands of kilometres of ice on foot. Why Oh Why?

Prince Harry recently completed such a mission for charity. What a guy! He gets naked and contributes to worthy causes. It would be fab if he could do both simultaneously but sadly there was scant opportunity for strip billiards on this trek.

Prince Harry is hawt at the South Pole

Prince Harry is hawt at the South Pole

Tarty birds and Prince Harry make for a winning combination but there’s much more to the South Pole. There’s some seriously big and mind blowing science happening down there.

The South Pole is (fittingly enough) home to the Ice Cube. I’m not talking about the crazy mofo rapper/actor. Rather it is the world’s largest neutrino detector. In one episode of The Big Bang Theory Sheldon was offered a position down there which should give you some indication of its significance to the physics/cosmology set. The structure is a vast array of basket ball sized sensors which dangle like Christmas baubles 2,000 metres below the surface. There are well over 5,000 of the things suspended in the ice. The clarity the complete blackness make it the perfect place for picking up neutrinos. Similarly there is a night club in Sydney’s South called the Vinyl Room which also very dark and consequently the perfect environment for picking up divorcees (so I have heard).

This diagram shows just how big the project is.

This sucker needs on big G&T

This sucker needs on big G&T

It was no easy (or cheap ) feat to install all this complex equipment in the ice and the project involved collaboration between 41 institutions from 12 different countries. So we must have a pretty good reason to hunt down neutrinos.

dom med

One of over 5,000 sensors.

What are they? As far as my tiny brain can comprehend, neutrinos are tiny particles which arise when an atomic nucleus breaks down.  They have no charge and don’t interact with anything which is why they are mysterious to scientists. The universe is absolutely buzzing with them but they very rarely come into contact with anything. To give you some  idea each second, about 100 trillion neutrinos go through your body.  In your entire lifetime, just 1 single neutrino might interact with an atom in your body. Seriously how do people know stuff like this? They can come from radio active decay here on earth and are created by our own sun. Super nova and gamma ray bursts make a souped up version and this is type Ice Cube is looking for. Understanding more about neutrinos will help scientists better understand the nature of matter. It will also help us ultimately understand the origins of the universe itself.

In April 2012 Ice Cube found a pair of neutrinos which they were certain originated from outside the solar system. It was a big deal in physics circles and the pair were christened Ernie and Bert.

Ernie and Bert

Ernie and Bert

are kind of a big deal.

are kind of a big deal.

Its pure research and no one knows where it is going to all end up. Its hoped that it may help explain mysteries like what is dark matter and how gravity works. In the meantime I find it amazing that people can identify this tiny winy infinitesimal things and pin point where it the universe they came from even if it was millions of light years away. Sure there’s a strong argument that we should be devoting our resources to solving practical problems in the here and now like ending famine, curbing global warming and curing cancer. Nevertheless the cult of physics fascinates me. Whilst the mainstream is all a twitter about Sienna Miller’s brief encounter with Daniel Craig (whilst she was dating Jude Law)* there’s a core of people devoting their lives to unraveling these esoteric questions. It restores my faith in humanity.

The world's coolest lab.

The world’s coolest lab.

As my favorite piece of laboratory crumpet Prof Brian Cox says ” .Time and again history shows you that trying to understand nature as a goal leads to the most wonderful discoveries that change civilization. It’s impossible to know which bit of that discovery is going to lead to something useful”.

What do you think?



*Personally I am aghast about this.  Its simply unfair that one woman gets to have so much fun. Biatch!


Sheer Randomness

So its school holidays. I know you know how it is – five weeks of mind numbing play dates, family movies, crafting, cooking  and hours of skin wrecking sun exposure on the beach all in a vain attempt to distract computer addicted children. If your anything like me you may toy with the lofty goal of keeping your kids screen time to a minimum. If you’re alot like me you’re failing miserably. As I write P1 is watching her umpteenth episode of Total Drama Island on you tube. P2 is lounging in her underwear  in front of the media centre in a manner reminiscent of Al Bundy (from the TV classic Married With Children).

My kids.

My kids.

Despite having a number of ideas for blog posts swirling around my head (some intellectually worthy, others distinctly unworthy), school holidays have rendered me incapable of riding a coherent train of thought. For now I present my disconnected musings.

Random Thought No 1

The Edelstens: Did the recent news that its Splitsville for Brynne and Dr Geoffrey Edelsten shock you to the very core? I’m completely rattled. Their’s was a love that appeared deeper than coal seam gas. A love which no amount of fracking could dislodge. But beneath the rock solid facade there was much seismic tension. Apparently Dr Geoffrey humiliated Brynne by chasing down (an even) younger model on the dating site Sugardaddy.com (There’s a heads up for all the single girls). Really – some guys dont know when they’ve got it good.  I mean if those (spectacularly engineered) bazookas aren’t enough to keep your septuagenarian husband in the yard I don’t know what is.

The word is that Brynne plans to stay in couple’s glitzy pent house. My advice would be to upscale to an estate with a rambling garden. That way she can employee the services of  1) a hunky gardener and 2) a lean and muscular pool boy. Having a ruggedly handsome personal trainer drop in a few days a week may also help with the “healing process”.

Meanwhile  I am sure that Dr Geoffrey has written himself a repeat prescription for viagra and refreshed his Sugardaddy.com profile. Helloooooo laaaadies.

Its tragic when a pairing of intellectual equals comes asunder.

Her milkshake couldn’t keep the Grandpa in the yard?

Random Thought No 2

Who is James Boag? I’ve no idea but wouldn’t it be fabulous if it was Colin Firth? (BTW – That’s a rhetorical question). Seriously what could be better than a beer with Colin Firth? (That’s actually not a rhetorical question. The answer is a five beers and a port chaser with Colin Firth).

Fancy a beer or five Col?

Fancy a beer or five Col?

Random Thought No 3

Politically incorrect TV: Since motherhood I have all but abandoned the TV. Nevertheless when I occasionally return to it I often find myself guffawing  “I can’t believe they showed that “. These moments are most concentrated on SBS but are by no means confined to it. Shows like Misfits, Quads, South Park, Archer and (the thinly veiled porn that is) Calfornication make me raise both eyebrows so as to resemble the McDonalds emblem. I can because Dadabulous has disallowed botox.

My eyebrows while watching Californication.

My eyebrows while watching Californication.

David Duchovny and Tim Minchin - it goes some way to explaining why I sometimes watch this very rude show.

David Duchovny and Tim Minchin – goes some way to explaining why I sometimes watch this extremely rude show.

Whenever I find myself ashamedly titilated by Hank Moody’s outrageous antics I cast my mind back to a time when television was far more shocking. Do you remember programs like Mind Your Language, Love Thy Neighbour and Man About the House? These classic British comedies championed the double entendre and the kind of “nudge, nudge, wink, wink” humor that they just don’t do anymore. The shows also employed deplorable racial stereotypes, the likes of which will never (ahem) darken our screens again. Take Mind Your Language for example. This program which ran between 1977 and 1979 used the premise of an ESL teacher to lampoon non-British cultures (no that’s NOT an oxymoron) in an extremely puerile way. The French girl was a nymphomaniac in a low cut top. Not to be outdone the Swedish girl was a bigger nympho in a plunging top AND a short skirt. The Greek and Italian dudes were greasy lotharios constantly hitting on the French and Swedish girls but never getting anywhere because the foreign ladies were hawt for the teacher. The German girl was naturally dour and humorless whilst the Chinese girl always showed up in military uniform spouting Maoist quotes from the Little Red book. Everyone was a few sausages short of a picnic. All races were equal in their stupidity. Of course to my unsophisticated eight year old mind this was freakin’ hilarious.

I cant believe this was ever allowed on TV.

I cant believe this was ever allowed on TV.

If the TV networks ever tried this schtick again the interwebs would break with the barrage of complaints and outrage! I guess this proves that society has moved forward (in some respects at least) over the past 35 years. In the enlightened present television gives us sex and violence out the wazoo (figuratively speaking – although in the case of Misfits its literal) but a simple racial stereotype sends us all into a hyperventilating meltdown.


Random Thought No 4

Allo Allo – Whilst we are reminiscing about bawdy British comedies, I want to bring back my favorite piece of childish smut – Allo Allo. Let’s cast Nick Frost as the pudgy French publican with inexplicable sexual magnetism and let the World War 2 mayhem roll on. Did they ever find the painting of the fallen Madonna with the big boobies?

Allo Allo - childish, smutty and bloody hilarious.

Allo Allo – childish, smutty and bloody hilarious.

Do you miss any old shows?





I’ve been blogging consistently (well almost) for 18 months. Surely that effort entitles me to a completely random post. And surely school holidays is the time to utilize this well earned privilege. With two kids to keep entertained, my creativity reserves are running low. Therefore instead of constructing a purposeful post designed to both illuminate and educate I’m going to spray you with disconnected thoughts. I’m going to make like Jackson Pollack except with words rather than enamel and aluminium paint.

Jackson Pollack's Blue Poles - It looks random but there's order to the chaos

Jackson Pollack’s Blue Poles – It looks random but there’s order to the chaos

Here we go. Splat!

Random thought no 1 – Dadabulous is a futurist.

My husband is a self proclaimed expert on the direction of future technology. Over the 10 year course of our beautiful relationship he has regaled me with enough predictions to fill a book. It would be a cult favorite like Alvin Toffler’s Future Shock or Damien Broderick’s -The Spike. Every time we commence one of these discussions I always say “I am going to write all of this time and call you on it in 50 years time. I’m really going to enjoy telling you that you were wrong”. (Isn’t it lovely that I can say that to him with there being a realistic chance of it actually happening). Anyhow I for the purposes of collecting blog fodder I asked him whether he thought Google Glass would take off in 2014. (For the haplessly non-tech like myself – Google Glass is a headset which looks like a normal pair of glasses. It performs the role of personal computer but is entirely voice activated. Screen images are projected onto the glasses lenses)

The answer was “no” qualified with a “not until the AI improves to the point where the Google Glass can act like a virtual personal assistant”. This was followed with a diatribe about how badly artificial intelligence has been done so far complete with a practical demonstration of the degree to which Suri sux.  She really is a dumb arse! So basically we have a five to ten year window before Google Glass really goes mainstream. The oracle has spoken.

My concerns about Google Glass are more simplistic. I am worried that people are going to be walking (and God help us driving) around distracted by the images on the Google glass. The number of people seriously injuring themselves by slamming into poles is set to sky rocket. I’ve seen the future and it has a flat nose.

This nob is about to become aquainted with a pole.

This nob is about to become acquainted with a pole.

Random thought no 2 – A prediction of my own

Fassbender is in line for the Best Supporting Actor award at the Oscars  for his harrowing performance in 12 Years a Slave. On behalf of the Fass-cinators the world over – “WOOT!”. However he wont be getting a 13 inch statuette this year (Not that he needs it. Nudge nudge. Wink Wink).  There are two reasons why.

1) As evidenced by the George Bush presidencies Americans are an intellectually inferior race. They simply don’t get the Fass-appeal.

2) More significantly Jared Leto lost 18 kgs to play a transgender AIDS victim in The Dallas Buyers club. The rule of thumb goes that the more physically and emotionally challenged the character the greater the chance of getting the gong. Jared is a shoe in – most likely a sequinned wedge.

And the Oscar goes to the trannie.

And the Oscar goes to the trannie.

Meanwhile if there is any justice in this world the award for the Most Gratuitous Beefcake in the Feature Film should go to Chris Hemsworth in Thor 2. That shirtless bathing scene was approximately 30 seconds of well toned torso which contributed absolutely nothing to the plot (such that it was). It did provoke Dadabs to prod me and comment “Well that didn’t take him long” and to subsequently admonish me with “Control yourself woman” when I cracked up laughing in the cinema. In a similar vein the Best Performance by A Pair of Leather Pants award belongs to the Loki costume.

Random though no 3 – Who’s your gay crush?

This is similar to the Thinking Woman’s Crumpet game except without the vaguest possibility of crumpet. Any satisfaction is purely cerebral – not that there’s anything wrong with that.  My number one gay crush is undoubtedly the incomparable write and humorist David Sedaris.  In the idealised alternative universe (aka the Mumtopia) I attend dinner parties at his West Sussex home trading bon mots and wry observations. Like this one -

In the last month of the presidential campaign, I tuned in to conservative talk radio and listened as callers considered the unthinkable. One after another, they all threatened the same thing: “If McCain doesn’t win, I’m leaving the country.”

“Oh, right,” I’d say. “You’re going to leave and go where? Right-wing Europe?” In the Netherlands now, I imagine it’s legal to marry your own children. Get them pregnant, and you can abort your unborn grandbabies in a free clinic that used to be a church. The doctor might be a woman who became a man and then became a woman again, all on taxpayers’ dollars, but as long as she saves the stem cells, she’ll have the nation’s blessing.

I'd happily share a brolly with my gay crush David Sedaris.

I’d happily share a brolly with my gay crush David Sedaris.

Honorable mentions go to

Stephen Fry: If I have to explain this you should not be reading my blog. Move along.

Having Hugh Laurie as BFF makes Stephen Fry's awesomeness even more awesome.

Having Hugh Laurie as BFF makes Stephen Fry’s awesomeness even more awesome.

Graham Norton: When my blog becomes world famous and celebrities start lining up to get the Mumabulous crumpet treatment, Graham Norton will be my first talk show gig.

Graham Norton - needs some Mumabs on his show.

Graham Norton – needs some Mumabs on his show.

Julian Clary: As I love my humor to be camp as the proverbial row of tents how can I resist a man who names his autobiography ” A Young Man’s Passage” ?

Oh Look! A two for one offer.

Oh Look! A two for one offer.

Do you have any randomness of your own this week?




I’m Baaaack

In December I experienced an existential meltdown and took this blog off line. Ok – some unkind people might call it a petulant dummy spit. Either way I fell into a funk about the blogging scene in general. Also after merrily blogging about crumpet for 18 months and thoroughly enjoying the process I suddenly became deeply uncomfortable about being the biggest perve on the block. In the intervening weeks I’ve decided I should just own the latter. As Shakespeare writes in Hamlet ” to thine own self be true”*. The fact is I am a dirty great perve and that is why YOU love me.

My crisis is mid life centric and remains unresolved. Usually when this kind of mood hits a man buys a convertible sports car and has an affair with his blonde secretary whilst a woman wanders off to eat, pray, shag Javier Bardem in Bali. Sadly these options simply aren’t open to me. For now I choose to obfuscate my sorrows with coffee, chocolate, pink wine,  half a dozen ginger haired British actors and Colin Firth. The only conclusion I’ve reached is that I feel more like the person I should be when I write, even if it is only something as puerile as this blog. Hence I’m back in the saddle. Its bound to be a bumpy ride but lets see where it leads this time around.

If only my mid life crisis could look like this...

If only my mid life crisis could look like this…

In the meantime here’s some observations from Chez Abulous;

The Hottie and the Nottie

A few months ago  #if my vagina was a movie was “trending” on Twitter. A number of celebrities joined the fray suggesting titles like “No Country for Old Men” and “Chamber of Secrets”. I was tempted to add “Anything with Tom Hiddleston in it” or alternatively “Free Willie”. However I thought that too lewd and vulgar even by my standards (not to mention far too exciting a prospect for Hiddles) so naturally I saved it for your reading pleasure.  Anyhow the point that I am rather dismally trying to segue into is that if my marriage were a movie it would be “The Hottie and the Nottie” ( a straight to DVD vehicle for Paris Hilton. What ever happened to her?  Who bloody cares?).  I ask you is it not enough that my husband is a successful software Maverick with a fetish for wood work who cooks gourmet BBQs on the weekends? Heck he even impressed my girlfriend posse by garnishing a tomato, bocconcini salad with basil flowers plucked fresh from our garden. Does he really need to be hawt as well?

Apparently he does. He has been rising before 6am to attend the gym or do an ocean swim three days a week and has been strutting around looking like an extra from the 300 movie. (Its irrelevant that the 300 movie was gawd awful). People have noticed. One of Dadab’s best mates said following an afternoon swim “Hey Red Bro, with a bit of scarification you would look like Azog the Defiler and I mean that as a compliment”.*

Azog. Separated from Dadabs at birth?

Azog. Separated from Dadabs at birth?

There’s no attempt at hiding the uber nerdiness that permeates Dadabs’ clique. If you dont know who Azog the Defiler is you are a philistine who needs an education. FYI – he’s the head honcho evil orc from the Hobbit series. He’s a nasty piece of work but totally ripped. Shredded! Meanwhile despite my best efforts at they gym ” I dont think you’re ready for my jelly” . Its just not fair.

The Hunk Boat

Just prior to Christmas I happened upon a sight so remarkable I just had to share it with you. We were at the Pyrmont Fish Markets sourcing a metric truck load of smoked salmon. We had stopped for sushi by the marina when a cruising yacht pulled up. That’s a typical occurrence at the Fish Markets. The non typical thing was that the boat was  packed to the rafters with shirtless hunks. I kid you not – it was standing room only and not a shirt in sight. I cant tell you how many hunks were onboard – it would be like guessing the number of sweet jelly beans in a jar. I mentioned to Dadabs my concern for the lads’ sun safety and he suggested that I offer to spray them with block out cream. My husband is a brilliant man.

So how many hunks were on the boat?

So how many hunks were on the boat?

The next day Dadabs asked where I would like to have my coffee that morning and I answered in all honesty “on the hunk boat”. Dadabs told me that I was way too pre-occupied with the hunk boat to which I replied that had it been a shipload of bikini babes he would have been equally impressed. His answer was “but as I am sensitive to your feeling I would not have mentioned it in front of you”. Ouch! Seriously though – it was a boat load of shirtless hunks! There are some things one can not stay silent about. Everybody sing “The hunk boat. Soon will be making another run. The hunk boat. Promises something for everyone”

Did you miss me?

Love Mumabulous

* Speaking of Shakespeare Fass is soon to be starring as MacBeth. The play needs a serious re-write in his honor. For eg.

All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Hawtness!

All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Sexy!

All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king of the crumpets hereafter!

* Red Bro is my husband’s nickname. Unlike Azog he has hair.