A Man’s Company

This is one of my favorite jokes because it resonates with my personal experience.

Q: When does a woman enjoy a man’s company?

A: When he owns it.

Boom Tish

I’ve gone off to work in Dadabulous software development business. Who said that sleeping with the boss gets you nowhere? Doing the accounts for my husband would not have featured highly on my adolescent list of dream gigs. It would have been out ranked by more glamorous career options like foreign correspondent, Booker prize winning novelist, screen writer and massage therapist to Keanu Reeves. ( I had quite a thing for the dude back in 1989).

Keanu's performance in Bill and Ted's was topped only by his work in Point Break.

Keanu’s performance in Bill and Ted’s was topped only by his work in Point Break.

At the moment however its just too convenient an option. One’s own husband is the ultimate family friendly employer. I mean your boss is not going to get angry at you having to leave early to collect a sick child. Note this happened twice during my first week of being in the office.

So far it is OK. Keeping tabs on our money is something I care deeply about. On the downside for not the first time in my working life I have been plunged well and truly in the deep end. I’m doing a job where I have no experience using a system I am unfamiliar with. The previous book keeper left a big mess and there’s no one to show me the ropes. Once again I’m in clean up mode and the pace is glacially slow. Why does it always seem to fall upon a woman to sort this shite out? At least the amounts I have to reconcile are in the tens of thousands rather than the millions which was the case when I was working for a big arsed American investment bank.

Dadabulous - if Dadabulous looked like Ashton Kutcher as Steve Jobs.

Dadabulous – but Ashton is not as cute as Dadabs even when playing Steve Jobs.

Between work and finishing my TAFE course blogging has somewhat diminished as a priority. So I’ll leave you with a few random thoughts. Some of you claim to enjoy those.

Bieber Fever

Here’s a bandwagon that I had no desire to climb on but Dadabulous’ reaction to the whole Bieber debacle surprised me. One evening over dinner he declared with a hearty chuckle “Justin Bieber – what a legend!”. The remarkable thing about this comment was that he actually knew who Justin Bieber was. Most pop culture sails comfortably over his radar. He remains entirely oblivious Twerkgate and thinks the Kardashians are Star Trek villains.  By stark contrast he was able to recount Bieber’s Ferrari racing incident in great detail and made reference to some of his other misdeeds like being caught with a private jet full of weed. “He’s f#$king awesome. He just does whatever he feels like and there’s no consequences ” Dadabulous concluded.  Bemused I asked “Surely you can’t like his music?”. “Oh does he sing?”

He's got a Ferrari but he's too young to drive. Dont you just hate him.

He’s got a Ferrari but he’s too young to drive. Dont you just hate him.

I think many of us watch these celebrity train wrecks with a heady mixture of amusement, disgust and jealousy. Who wouldn’t want to do whatever the fork they feel like, whenever the fork they feel like it with whom ever the fork they please? Most of us refrain because we realize that actions have consequences. Some of us even have a sense of common decency. Bieber merrily lacks both these qualities and is living an unadulterated dream (for now at least). We love to hate him and hate to love him for it – unless of course you are part of the happy few who couldn’t give a toss.

I’m excited

Folks I’m excited. Alexander Skarsgard has been cast as Tarzan in a movie. You know what that means? – an entire movie with ASkars romping around the jungle in leopard skin jocks.

Reimagine this scene with ASkars and Margaret Robbie.

Reimagine this scene with ASkars and Margaret Robbie.

Actually that’s not why I am excited but I bet some of you are now.  I am all a quiver because there’s been a significant break-through in stem cell research. Over the past few months Japanese researchers have developed a relatively simple technique to make ordinary adult cells revert to an embryonic state. This means they can grow into any type of bodily cell. According to paper published in Nature the team took cells mice transformed them into stem cells and reinjected them into mouse embryos. They found that the engineered cells integrated perfectly into the bodies of the developing mouse pups.  If the method can be replicated in humans the implications are huge. It potentially means that we’ll be able to kick start damaged organs into regenerating themselves. Its important to keep in mind that this is very early days and the research is being subject to intense scrutiny. Even if it can be proven to work in humans it will be many years before it can used in any practical sense. Still having stuff like this on the horizon gives me reason for great hope. Perhaps we’ll have a future where the blind can be made to see again, paraplegics will have their damaged spines repaired and cancer and alzheimers will be historical relics. That’s more exciting than ASkars – a little bit. In the meantime I predict that sales of leopard skin jocks will skyrocket.

Reasons to be cheerful

Reasons to be cheerful



PS: Do I even have to say that I would prefer to see Fassbender as Tarzan? That would have me swinging from a vine screaming “Aaaah Aaaaah, Aaaaaaaaaah!” Much like this really…..




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!


Its Like Totally Random

Gold: In days of yore when the Egyptians were pre-occupied by a minor infrastructure project known as the Pyramids, I worked for a stock broking firm. One of my colleagues was a failed actor. It seems a tad harsh to describe this guy’s preferred career as “failed”. He embodied many of the traits necessary for actorly success. He was tall and built like a brick dunny, handsome but not impossibly so. More importantly he was charismatic and very, very funny. Unfortunately for Tom ( he was blessed with an actorly name), its not all about looks, charisma and talent in that order. The streets of Hollywood are strewn with attractive, charismatic and talented people who never made it. Its about luck and (I hate to use this term) X factor – an undefinable quality that strikes a chord with people at a given time.

Always enterprising Tom turned his talent for persuasive bullshit into equities dealing. Whilst on paper that sounds like a natural progression, Tom didn’t seem to “feel it” like some of the others. Perhaps he wasn’t such a great actor after all. My boss for instance was hooked into global markets for every waking hour of the day, every day of the year.  It would be a considered an OCD like mental disorder if it didn’t make people rich.

My former boss - no not really. We weren't that exciting.

My former boss – no not really. We weren’t that exciting.

Tom flogged a rag bag collection of dodgy mining start ups to high net worth investors who enjoyed a gamble. He’d spend the rest of the day talking like a pirate (especially on international talk like a pirate day), quipping about the sexuality of the rest of the dealing desk and impersonating Rick Astley. (He would turn to the guy next to him and say with great sincerity “Hey Jon, We’ve known each other for so long. Your heart’s been aching but you’re to shy to say it” This would usually be met with an enthusiastic “f@#k off” but the two would disappear downstairs for a ciggie at regular intervals).  The trading day commenced with a meeting where the team would wank on  about  discuss what happened in international markets over night. Tom’s job was to provide a run down of global commodity price movements. When discussing the price of Gold he’d burst into the classic song by Spandu Ballet. This never failed to provoke a reaction from me because I love that song. It cut through any pretentiousness like a knife through butter. I kinda miss him.

Your overnight commodities run down was GOLD!

Tom old mate your overnight commodities reports were GOLD!

But I hope you give Rick Astley up.

But I hope you give Rick Astley up.

Useless song lyrics: Last week  I had the unbridled thrill of visiting the Homemaker Centre in Alexandria. I know – rock n roll all night and party every day people!

The Homemaker Centre - will the partying never end?

The Homemaker Centre – will the partying never end?

Walking through the sliding glass doors my ears were assaulted with a barrage of 1980s easy listening classics. When I heard “Waiting for A Girl Like You” by Foreigner it struck me that I knew it word for word. I am deeply ashamed. Of all the things I could have used my neurons for, this piece of aural cheese is engraved upon my cerebral cortex. Perhaps its because there is a resonate truth in the lyrics.  Feel free to croon along.

Maybe I’m wrong

Won’t you tell me if I’m coming on too strong?
This heart of mine has been hurt before
This time I wanna be sure

I’ve been waiting for Tom Hiddleston
To come into my life
I’ve been waiting for Michael Fassbender
A love that will survive
I’ve been waiting for Colin Firth
To make me feel alive
Yeah, waiting for Damien Lewis
To come into my life

Hang on a minute. That’s not the lyrics to a classic piece of yacht rock.  That’s my celebrity hall pass list in order of preference set against some bad 80s sax.

Is your head full of useless song lyrics?



Footnote: Whilst doing “research for this post I stumbled upon this rather interesting picture of Spandu Ballet. They appear to have been caught smuggling five budgies out of the country. Now that really is GOLD and I could not keep it to myself. Boy bands don’t do this sort of thing anymore and pop music is all the poorer for it.



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?