15 Comments

A Recipe For Chaos

This blog tends to avoid culinary related matters unless we are talking about tasty crumpet. There are a plethora of bloggers out there with expensive cameras and a sprinkle of talent who can do the food porn thing way better than I could ever hope to. Nevertheless Mumabulous does like to spice things up. So today I am going to share with you an example of modern Australian cooking straight from Hells Kitchen, or as some people prefer to call it – Canberra.

Modern Australian cuisine

Modern Australian cuisine

Ingredients

  • One fractured global economy
  • One unsustainable fiscal structure
  • One biased and polarized media
  • An utterly dysfunctional ALP
  • A generous splash of factional infighting
  • Half a cup of high level corruption
  • A dash of union toadying
  • One troupe of ideological zealots with a penchant for marginalizing the only voices of rationality within (alternatively known as The Coalition)
  • A teaspoon of climate change denial
  • A heaped cup of business lobbying
  • An assortment of self interested crazies (alternatively known as the Palmer United Party, Motor Enthusiasts Party or RevHead Party)
  • A tablespoon of naive dewy eyed idealists (The Greens)
  • One very pissed off Australian public
That aint humble pie

That aint humble pie

Chefs Note:  Under no circumstances should compassion for marginalized groups such as the elderly, the unemployed, the working poor, the sick, the disabled or refugees be added to the mix.

Method

  • Puree your leader as frequently as possible
  • Shred your (poorly explained ) policy at the slightest sign of public disapproval
  • Cook up the lamest election campaign in the history of democracy
  • Blend catchy but ultimately meaningless slogans with frequent appearances in Speedos
  • Mix a faux debt crisis with a scare campaign about the carbon tax
  • Mince public health and education
  • Knead the less well off into submission
  • Roll out a set of unpalatable policies
  • Chefs Note: Adding credible opposition policies at this point will cause the mix to spoil
  • Place the minor parties in a senate shaped saucepan and stir over heat
  • Continue until the whole thing boils over
  • Dissolve both houses.
  • Start again.

What a dog’s breakfast!  No wonder the Australian public has lost its collective taste for politics.

A dog's breakfast.

A dog’s breakfast.

Love

Mumabulous

Australia gets the raw prawn

Australia gets the raw prawn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


31 Comments

Ridiculous

On a daily basis I will encounter at least half a dozen things that strike me as ridiculous. I’m not talking ridiculous in an awesome way like Weird Al Yankovic – an individual who can spin silliness into gold. I’m talking about palm on forehead, there’s no hope for the human race type ridiculousness.

Musical alchemist -turns shite into gold.

Musical alchemist -turns shite into gold.

Perhaps its yet another sign that I am morphing into my parents as I age.  Alternatively just maybe stupidity abounds and I am just noticing the tip of the proverbial ice berg. As Einstein himself said.

Einstein-Quotes-med

The butt of many jokes

Mumabulous grapples with the BIG issues and right now I can’t find an issue bigger than this

Nicki Minaj's enhanced butt.

Nicki Minaj’s enhanced butt.

Now here’s an album cover I (and the rest of the world) wasn’t ready for. My girls struck more elegant poses whilst they were potty training. Meanwhile that pink G-string will never be extracted. Scientific wisdom has it that not even light can escape from a black hole. Better not get too close!

Social media mafia

Imagine this scenario. You are a young, upcoming mafioso in Sicily. Your extortion racket is cruising along nicely. You need respect. Its important to cultivate a carefully crafted image. Naturally you take to social media where you post painstakingly posed photos of yourself enjoying the fruits of your labour at all the right restaurants, clubs and beaches. Its mandatory that you boast about your criminality. I mean if you rip off  hard working small businesses but dont post about it on Facebook did it really happen?

Talk about FB mafia!

Talk about FB mafia!

The cops are notoriously behind the curve when it comes to technology. However surprisingly they do have a basic grasp of Facebook and Twitter. Ergo the duckfaced Tony Soprano wanna-be pictured is now in prison and his tale of woe is all over the international media.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2714810/From-omerta-online-Modern-mafia-bosses-break-tradition-generations-secrecy-flaunting-wealth-power-Facebook.html

The link above alone attracted 655 comments questioning this criminal mastermind’s masculinity. I particularly enjoyed this quip:

They started at the Bottom and worked their way up.

I’m sure its not the look the guy was hoping to project.

Where to put it

Babies notoriously don’t come with a set of instructions but luckily public conveniences do.

Thanks for clearing that up.

Thanks for clearing that up.

I dont want to imagine the scenario that made this sign necessary but apparently some people cant work out that loo paper goes in the loo.

Head in the clouds

I am not against public art per-se but Clover Moore’s most recent proposal strikes me as a bit excessive. “The Cloud Arch” will soar 75m above George Street and cost around $9m. To me looks like Christina Hendricks (of Mad Men fame) silhouetted against the city skyline – a view which most male Sydneysiders would doubtless appreciate.

Cloud Arch

Cloud Arch

See the resemblance?

See the resemblance?

Nevertheless in these austere times I can think of about 9m better things to spend $9m on. In fact I’d like to suggest a cheaper alternative. I’m envisaging an arch over George Street in the shape of one of Clover Moore’s signature studded chokers. Sydney would  have an arch (which it apparently needs) and Clover’s style would be immortalized – win-win!

The end

I’m calling it. The current fad of serving breakfast cereal, kale smoothies and god knows what else in pre-loved jam jars is over. I saw this in the free Woolworths magazine – a clear sign that every last drop of cool has been rung out of this trend. (Sadly I was reading the Woolies mag in bed clad in my flannel PJs – just be glad I don’t do selfies) Hipster foodies everywhere will be forced to move on. Meanwhile I have no shame and would happily consume alcohol from a jam jar if that were the only serving option.

Cool no more.

Cool no more.

Me too

Today I too was whacked with the silly stick. It was high time to take my loose coin collection to the bank. We transferred it to a bucket for easy cartage. The problem was that the bucket was too heavy for my feeble arms to carry more than a few paces. Hence I placed the bucket in one of my husband’s wheeled storage containers from Bunnings.

Heavy freight.

Heavy freight.

I then dragged this contraption several blogs down the street in full view of hipster cafes to my bank only to find it did not have one of those new fangled coin counting machines. The lovely young teller offered to cart the bucket to the neighboring bank which does have a coin counting machine rather than total it up himself. We stepped out into the sunlight there it was like a gift from God – an abandoned shopping trolley! I transferred everything to the trolley and trundled up the street looking like a complete dork albeit an aided dork.

The moral to this story is that $420 is worth dorkifying yourself in front of your entire suburb for. The other moral is don’t allow your coinage to build up – spend it!

What’s completely ridiculous in your life right now.

Love

Mumabulous

 

 


16 Comments

I’ve Been Thinking About…

I’ve been thinking about Katy Perry and so has Reservoir Dad.

http://www.reservoirdad.com/blog/reservoir-dad/secret-celebrity-fantasies-an-intimate-conversation

Your husband probably has been too if the truth be known.  I am coming at the whole Katy Perry phenomena from an entirely different (ahem) angle. With her curvilicious bombshell image and her catalogue of  irrepressiblely catchy tunes its no wonder that Ms Perry is among the most popular female artists on the planet. Nevertheless I believe that she could expand her popularity even further. Currently she’s ignoring the married, middle aged but not dead yet demographic. With just a little lyrical tweaking Katy could bring this potentially massive audience into the fold.

For instance “Hot and Cold” could be rewritten to describe the trials and tribulations of sharing a doona. “Roar” celebrates self actualisation and is a mighty positive message for the kids yada yada yada. Perhaps the song would resonate more deeply with long term marrieds if it were reworded thus

 I got the rattle of a chain saw, fell asleep after red wine
‘Cause I am pissed and you’re gonna hear me snore
Louder, louder than an elephant
‘Cause I am pissed and you’re gonna hear me snore
ZZZZZ ZZZZZZ ZZZZZZ
ZZZZZ ZZZZZ ZZZZZ
ZZZZZ ZZZZZ ZZZZZZ
You’re gonna hear me snore

Had too much red wine now you're gonna hear me snore.

Had too much red wine now you’re gonna hear me snore.

The risque “Happy Birthday” no doubt has some appeal with the over 40s gents. I’d suggest it would appeal even more if instead of

So let me get you in your birthday suit
It’s time to bring out the big balloons
So let me get you in your birthday suit
It’s time to bring out the big, big, big, big, big, big balloons

it went something like

So let me get you in your sox and jocks
It’s time to bring out the big Bunnings gift card
So let me get you in your sox and jocks
It’s time to bring out the big, big, big, big, big, big Bunnings gift card

What he wanted.

What he wanted.

What he got.

What he got.

I know for a fact that a Bunnings gift card would excite my husband far more than balloons in any sense of the word.

Then of course there’s “Teenage Dream” which could be re-imaged 25 years later with “Middle-aged dream”

Gonna get your heart racing

In my baggy Mom jeans

Be a middle aged dream tonight

And the hits keep coming as it were.

On the opposite end of the spectrum P1, my seven year old is currently obsessed with The Voice Kids. She was obsessed with MasterChef Kids but has decided that singing is easier than cooking. In two years time she’ll be old enough to compete and you can be sure that the franchise will not have disappeared by then.  P1 is taking advantage of the time lag by cramming in as much practice as possible. And yes we are hearing her “Roar”.

If I have gleaned anything from the program its that Delta is supremely irritating. Otherwise I’ve observed that the pint sized performers show a maturity beyond their years. The choice of material is often very adult. Young’ens belt out “Not pretty enough”, “The this girl is on fire” etc like they’ve lived and breathed every word. Of course they are all unbelievably talented but I like to see kids being kids. It would be so refreshing if a contestant got up and breathed new life into a school yard classic like

Jingle bells, Batman smells

Robin flew away

Wonder Woman 

Lost her bosom

All on Christmas Day

Hey!

batman-smells-christmas-song med

Or

Jesus Christ, Superstar

Riding down the street on his Yamaha

Cops were there

But he dont care

‘Cause he’s in bullet proof underwear

 Then there’s the timeless classic

Mama mia

I’ve got diarrhoea

10/4 open up the dunny door

Too late

All over the kitchen floor

Alternatively

Too late

Done it on a dinner plate

Even at their young and tender ages my girls are showing an aptitude for making up puerile lyrics and I am not discouraging it. I may have laughed when they celebrated the end of toilet training with this little ditty;

“Now you’re just a potty 

Where I used to go”

I may have also let out a gigle when they worked their magic on that 90s dance floor anthem by C&C Music Factory

Everybody dance now

Pull your buddies pants down

Everybody fart now

Brrrrp, brrp, brrp, brrrp

It seems the apple doesn’t fall too far away from the tree and I couldn’t be prouder. Meanwhile Dadabs rolls his eyes and pretends not to know us.

Would you like to see pop music pitched at the middle aged? How about kids action like kids instead of mini Mariah Careys on kids programming?

Love

Mumabulous

Its Katy Perry : 1, Mumabs: 0

Its Katy Perry : 1, Mumabs: 0


29 Comments

10 Things I Am Over

As I know you enjoy my middle class whining so much, I’m doing a 10 to 1 countdown of things I have thoroughly had the Richard with. Without any further ado;

10. Bore-gust.

I introduced this concept in a post that nobody read. Basically its like Dry July except the booze is staying (along with chocolate and coffee). Instead I am sacrificing posting about hawties on this blog for the entire month of August – hence the catchy name – Bore-gust. August is only a few days in and I am over it already! Nevertheless I am a woman of my word and I will restrain myself until at least September 1.

9. Cherry Pits.

Whose idea was it to place a tooth shattering stone in the middle of the world’s most succulent and tasty fruit? Oh right – it was Mother Nature’s. Its just more evidence (along with menstruation ) that she is a bitch. Doesn’t humanity have the technology to genetically engineer this minor inconvenience out of existence? Just because we can means we should right?

Good one - Mother Nature!

Good one – Mother Nature!

8. Kids Swimming Lessons

Dont you just love standing around the public pool – NOT? I can feel the brain cells literally dying in my skull whilst my eyes tear up from all the chlorine gas in the vicinity. Then after half an hour of my life that I’ll never get back watching my child do laps, I get to tackle the sodden change room. Its even worse when I have to take two them and watch them simultaneously instead of wasting even more time flicking through Facebook on my phone.  How I loathe swimming lessons – almost as much as

7. The Park

I have had seven years of standing around  public parks. I am completely over it. Mind you if there is a nearby cafe and some half decent company I can bear it on a good day.

6. Dieting

I began restricting my food intake at age 14 when some of my harder edges naturally began to soften. That’s thirty years of being on a diet. Thirty long years of skipped desserts and not having fries with that.  I only allowed myself an entire ice block when I was pregnant. These days I have been known to do crazy shite like buying chocolate honey comb bars, taking  few bites and throwing the rest in the bin.  I’ve even tried Jenny Craig when my weight hit a high point. It was a complete failure. I am over it. I want to eat all the food.

Like these delicious triple chocolate brownies I made with P1.

Like these delicious triple chocolate brownies I made with P1.

5. Double Drop Off.

My husband’s office is a simple 30 minute bus ride from my home. However when you have young kids nothing is simple. I drop P1 at the her school whilst fending off various whinges. Then I drive to the next suburb, deposit P2 in daycare and explain yet again to the staff why she is inappropriately dressed. Once liberated from children I negotiate the labyrinth of backstreets to find free all day parking. With the car securely anchored I make like the Proclaimers and walk 500 miles then I will walk 500 more just to be the Mum who misses the bus to Central Station. The whole process takes about 90 minutes by which time I collapse at my desk.

4. Double Pick Up

Reverse the above in the afternoon and throw in some shopping along the way. Exhausted by the double pick up and drop off its all I can do to throw together dinner for my family. Which leads to me to the next thing I am over

3. Cooking dinner

I make an effort  to give my family a variety of healthy but tasty cuisine. However it difficult to keep ones cooking mojo up when one’s endeavours are met with constant criticism. For example  the other week I produced a hearty beef bourguignon (with tender beef cheeks) only to have P2 declare it tasted like ” one thousand bugs crawling in my underpants”.  I suppose if you are going to be an ungrateful wretch you may as well be creative about it.

Funnily I never get these sorts of comments from the kids on pizza or taco night. Instead I get them from my husband! Last night he complained about my use of the wheat based stand and stuff tacos. He preferred the corn chip type apparently. I may have become ever so slightly unhinged at that. I may have uttered something unprintable.

2. Washing Dishes

It is said that there is nothing certain in life except for death and taxes. I would like to add a few items to this list of life’s certainties.

- politicians of all persuasions are fundamentally unlikeable

- if you’re a Mum you’ll spend half your life doing the dishes.

- your husband will never do the dishes voluntarily meaning you’ll have to resort to threats and promises.

My autobiography - Dishes - The Story of my Life.

My autobiography – Dishes – The Story of my Life.

1. Wiping Bums

This should be self evident. Back in the Jurassic age when I was managing a stockbroking back office I used to joke that I had to wipe the dealers bums metaphorically.  I had no idea what lay in store.

 

What are you over?

Mumabulous

 


11 Comments

Screw The Housework…

So its 22C here in Sydney’s stunning eastern beaches and the good news is that the boss has given me the day off. The bad news is that I have a head cold and feel lousy. Damn.

In my delirious state I thought that reading a Facebook feed about Tom Hiddleston writing a charming thank you email to Joss Weldon would put a smile back on my dial. Na-uh. That plan backfired. It only added to the mounting pile of evidence that I am the world’s dullest individual.  Paul Keating – whether you love him or hate him you’ve got to agree he made a stunning contribution to the Australian idiom. One of Paul’s sayings was “You’re all tip and no iceberg”. This is not how I would describe a Hiddles/Joss bromance. When it comes to coolness that is the entire freaking berg!

A visual depiction of the Hiddles/Joss bromance

A visual depiction of the Hiddles/Joss bromance

I by contrast am this.

A standard ice cube

A standard ice cube

I’m not even a novelty ice-cube in the shape of a body part.

In my state of feeling both poorly and profoundly uncool I said to myself “Screw the housework” and took myself out on a coffee date.  These are the views I was subjected to in lieu of doing the vacuuming.

Taking photos into the light - a cardinal sin.

Taking photos into the light – a cardinal sin.

Eastern beaches - ooh yeh!

Eastern beaches – ooh yeh!

Yesterday was similarly stunning. I found myself in a take away joint on Bondi Road eating a BBQ chicken roll for lunch. That is itself newsworthy. Ooh the condiments. So much mayonnaise! I was devouring it shamelessly like a cougar would Kit Harrington when I happened to look up. There on the pavement haloed by the sunlight was Redfoo! The unmistakeable afro teamed with the ironic retro cool big glasses. If it wasn’t Redfoo it was a guy who likes to bring attention to himself by presenting exactly like Redfoo.

I like to maintain a modicum of dignity around celebrities by not acknowledging their presence – at least until they approach and ask if I am Mumabulous. This time despite myself I smiled in recognition through a mouthful of crusty bread and succulent BBQ chicken. He nervously grinned back. I am sure he is used to old ladies smiling at him  and has learned to deal with it graciously.

Pretty much like this - except he was wearing trackie dakkies.

Pretty much like this – except he was wearing trackie dakkies.

I didn’t mean to stalk the dude but I had to be somewhere so I scampered out and followed him up the street. He kept sticking his head into the doors of various businesses and high fiving the proprietors which strikes me as a very Redfoo thing to do. All the while he was dragging a wheeled shopping bag behind him. Hipsters having been trying to bring such contraptions back into fashion for decades (which is about 5 years in hipster time). Whilst some aspects of Nana-chic like freaking knitting have caught on, the wheeled shopping caddy is yet to win mainstream affection. I predict that’s about to change and by Christmas all the kids will be wanting one.

The hawtest accessory.

The hawtest accessory.

You heard it here first!

Meanwhile I have the dubious honour of being the only bored housewife on the planet who has not yet read that book. You know the one with the 50 Shades. Just when I thought the hype had died down and we could all move on with our bog standard sex lives, the movie trailer came out. Middle aged women are being titilated afresh. Having not read the trilogy does not prevent me from being an authority on the subject. I was planning on writing a post about who could beat Christian Grey in a fight. However the field of contenders was (ahem) too broad.  I’ll just say I hope I wasn’t the only person to have noticed this.

Movie poster.

Movie poster.

TV Series poster.

TV Series poster.

Hmmm – remarkably similar wouldn’t you say? What’s more many an intelligent woman has been known to get tied up in knots over Don Draper.

For what it is worthI have my doubts that Don Draper could land a punch on Christian Grey. Nor could Redfoo but his afro could knock anyone out at 20 paces.  Perhaps my beloved Hiddles could deck Christian Grey because despite looking like a wet paper bag would be a match for him,  he reportedly does all his own stunts. However it goes without saying that my crush du jour Rollo could seriously kick Christians Grey’s butt!

Oh my! The smart money is on him.

Oh my! The smart money is on him.

I hope you enjoyed this tasty morsel. It will be my last for a while. I have been thinking out the sacrifices made by the thousands of good folk who participated in Dry July. Giving up their selfish pleasures to raise awareness about cancer is laudable. So I too should join in and do my bit. There aint no way in hell I’m giving up the booze! (or coffee or chocolate for that matter). That’s just beyond the call. Alternatively I propose refraining from posting about celebrity crumpets on this blog for the entire month of August. I shall call this endeavor – Boregust.

Who is with me?

 

Love

Mumabulous


15 Comments

Heroic

Disclaimer: This post will be politically incorrect and tongue in cheek. If you can not handle political incorrectness and tongues in cheeks click away now.

You probably don’t know this and I doubt that you care very much but the geek community is currently all a lather. “Why?”  I hear about three of you ask. The Marvel comic empire has recast Captain America as man of colour. The African American actor Anthony Mackie is about to don the red, white and blue spandex.

And I for one have no problem with that.

And I for one have no problem with that.

Resistance from the nerd herd isn’t based on race for geekiness embraces all colours and creeds. Rather the noise is coming from purists who object to iconic characters being messed with. Why not invent new kick ass superheroes to represent ethnic diversity on the screen?

Plans are afoot to reintroduce Thor as a woman. In the eyes of many (including myself) this is taking political correctness a step too far. If it’s a nod to feminism it’s misguided. In fact I would stress that its detrimental to women (especially middle aged housewives) as it is depriving them of a perve.

Thor - the only reason many middle aged couples can agree on a date night movie.

Hemsworth – the only reason many middle aged couples can agree on a date night movie.

Meanwhile woe betide Stan Lee if he dares to turn my favorite villainous crumpets Magneto and Loki into chix! There’d be rioting in the streets (well a one woman protest ) if female kind are denied that action.

As I have stressed before, I am a feminist. I DO want to see women get equal billing when it comes to saving the world from the multitude of supernatural, alien and mad scientific threats that it constantly faces. The way forward is to add new female superheroes to the stable. If feminism is to be truly vindicated these new super butt kicking sheilas should have realistic bodily proportions and be aged over 35.

With this in mind I would like to pitch a fresh heroine to Marvel Studios - The Wicked Cougar.

An extremely rough artistic impression.

An extremely rough artistic impression.

By day the Wicked Cougar is a mild mannered middle aged mother. She may or may not live in the Eastern Beaches, do a bit of bookkeeping and have an uproariously funny blog. By night she transforms into a bad guy hunting machine and is at her most devastating when the bad guys just happen to be young and hunky.

Her arsenal consists of magic bullets containing a potent mix of cheap botox and nasty sparkling wine which render evil doers both immobile and insensible. Nevertheless her strategy of choice is scaring the bejeepers out of her prey with inappropriate cheesy come-ons.

Like this one.

Like this one.

And

See the fear in his eyes!

See the fear in his eyes!

The best mode of transport for the Wicked Cougar would be a Wicked campervan with an offensive misandrist slogans on it such as

“A hard man is good to find”

or

“A man in the hand is worth two in the bush”*

Alas thanks to the power of social media that is no longer an option. I’m going with a gleaming white Porsche SUV that no one suspects of ever going off road let alone on a hawt villain chase.

My first choice of transportation.

My first choice of transportation.

Being the magnanimous sort that I am happy to volunteer my self to play the leading role.  Wearing skin tight leopard print spandex and kicking butt along side the likes of Hugh Jackman (or rather drinking G&Ts in our trailers whilst our body doubles kick butt) is an arduous task but like scrubbing the loos someone has to do it. Having said that in recent weeks I’ve found myself outclassed on every level by Jacqui Lambie.  I thought I was the consummate dirty old woman but after Jacqui’s recent radio comments I’ve accepted that I’ve got a long way to go.

First up to the casting couch.

First up to the casting couch.

When it comes to channeling the spirit of the Wicked Cougar Jacqui is a hands down winner. I nominate her to take up the leopard skin print mask. Well endowed and cashed up villains consider yourselves warned! Jacqui cant wait to get her claws into you. Rioooooooow!

In the extremely unlikely event that the folks at Marvel reject this proposal I intend to go down the crowd funding route in order to bring my vision to the big screen. I’m not content with just one feature film mind you – I’m totally thinking about the franchise. I’ll start with a trilogy.

1) Claws – Wicked Cougar Origins

2) The Eye of The Cougar

3) Carry On Cougar.

What say you blog fans? Would you support a dirty old lady as a super hero?

Heroically yours

Mumabulous

* We have the fabulous Mae West to thank for those gems.


9 Comments

I’ll Show You Mine

So the the lovely Em at Have a Laugh On Me and the fabulous Kirsten and Kirsten and Co have shown us theirs. Handbags that is. I invite you to go and judge these ladies by the contents of their carry alls  –  here http://havealaughonme.com/2014/07/24/behold-the-contents-of-my-handbag/  and here http://kirstenandco.com/whats-in-your-handbag/.

As my favorite fearless blog-panions* have bared all its time for me to show you mine as it were. Drumroll please.

Here is my handbag.

Release your inner serpent!

Release your inner serpent!

I chose the faux snake skin because it represents my animal spirit – a sinful serpent. Ssssssssssssssssss!  Not really – I chose it because it was cheap and I have been known to be a tight wad. More importantly the black and grey colour scheme accessorizes perfectly with grime.

Keeping with the snake metaphor (because I am enjoying it so much), let’s shed a layer of skin. Here is what lies beneath.

Its what's on the inside that counts.

Its what’s on the inside that counts.

 

 Not one but two pairs of garish sunglasses – because as I always say Variety is a Spice Girl. If I’m in work mode I go for the conservative beige pair. If I am feeling just a little cheeky however I will don the bright pink number in order to guarantee maximum clash with my outfit.

Not one but two pink hair ties – which coordinate spectacularly with the sunglasses. Fashion bloggers everywhere should be trembling at their keyboards.

Not one but two pens – you never know when a hunk is going to ask you for a pen hopefully to take down your phone number. Sorry you caught me day dreaming again. Nowadays I give out phone numbers for the purposes of play dates rather than hawt dates.

Wallet - Because money talks and it says “Make mine a large skinny cappuccino please”.

Coinage – Which has staged a mass breakout from the confines of my wallet.

Cards –  These appear to have teamed up with the shrappa and escaped my wallet.

Bus ticket - Dadabs office is located in FunkyTown where the hills are alive with the sound of parking meters. Besides bus travel gives me ample time to consume social media through my phone. I dont do nearly enough of that otherwise.

Comb and lipstick – A rare concession towards good grooming.

Gym tag and locker key – Like my good self these items haven’t seen much action lately.

Kleenex Clean an Fresh Wipes – Because spills happen. You can be certain that the most disastrous spills (I’m talking chocolate milkshake and on white T shirt ) will occur when you haven’t got these babies with you. Its a predictable as the sun rising in Sydney’s East and shining all day out of the East’s collective derriere.

Miscellaneous receipts –  which really need to go into the recycling but I’ve been slack.

Keys – God have mercy on my soul if these ever go missing again because Dadabs surely wont.

I trust you’ve been titilated by my big reveal. Why dont you show us yours?

Love

Mumabulous

 

 

 

 

 

 

* A term I just invented meaning people you’ve become friendly with through blogging if not IRL.