mamahog 'n the lets

Byebye Mike.

2012-02-02T12:00:00.003+02:00

I have loved you a long time now. Thank you for the laughs, the tears, the inspiration, and the joy. I will miss you, you beautiful fool.

2012-01-15T02:23:00.003+02:00

So. I've moved to England.

It's shit.

.....

and cold.

and Grey.

I don't have a job, -can't seem to find one despite my vast life experience- and live on VERY little. I'm looking for a job,

and claiming 'benefits'. I'm currently getting £30 less than the 'poverty level'. It's a fairly cool 'social-economical experiment' and a SHIT way to live.

We left about 90% of our possessions in Istanbul as we couldn't afford to ship them. Ex husband and father of kids, NOT helpful.

But we do live. The girls have bikes, and we have a railcard, and enough food.
I passed my first maths exam with 100%. I will start an MA in Education next week. It won't help me get a job, will cost me at least £2500 (which i don't currently have, or foresee having anytime soon) and not actually qualify me for much, but I may at least meet people and learn something. I also volunteer at the school twice a week. And study maths.

I spent an evening with my sister tonight: after 6 months of living 3 miles away from her.

I ate a LOT. And drank a fair a mount of Ginger beer and Gin, which she bought despite her debt of at least £20000.

We didn't smoke. I haven't done so for over 2 months now. I still think about cigarettes about every 15 minutes. Cigarettes are OVER. She's at about a month and having relationship difficulties.

Life's currently SHIT.

I look forward to sleep as it gives me time off from guilt, despair and FURY. unless you count dreams.

I miss writing. Good night.

It’s the same old song…

2011-07-18T21:36:00.006+03:00

Ben yabancigim, ben yabancigim. Ben yabancigim Istanbul da.

Quite a few years ago when I was young and hung out regularly with Turkish film-makers, I had a very stupid idea to make a cover of the famous Sting song: An Englishman in New York. We’d butcher it to become: I’m an alien; I’m a legal alien… ben yabanciyim istanbul’da. We would record a video and become the next summer number one. We had the whole concept worked out: find two other foreign girls, one blonde English rose, dressed in a long flowery dress, the other mini-skirted and Very Sexy. I’d be the middle of the road option in jeans and trainers. We’d spend the video touring Istanbul’s sites. A night restaurant scene, dancing down Istiklal, our hair blowing in the wind as we sped along the Bosphorous in a convertible car in the sunshine, and finally, rolling up a dark, gelled haired Turkish kebabci or the like, in a carpet in the Kapali Carsi and trying to smuggle him home.

They jumped at the idea, and it could have worked too, if I hadn’t worried about tarnishing my coolness for all eternity and chickened out.
So the whole thing fell apart. Thank goodness. How annoyed would I have been if they’d done it anyway and I’d missed out on all the cash and silliness?

I’ve been in Istanbul for well over a decade now. And have had many, many silly ideas to match that. And many more silly experiences which would make for great video.
The Istanbul I came to in ’95 was a very different cat from the one who purrs around me today. But then I guess so was I.

Since arriving as a shy 25 year old I have been single, dated, been single again, been married to a Turkish man, had children, been a separated single parent, found love on the internet, and imported a toy boy.
I’ve had a ludicrous amount of ridiculous jobs, including being employed to test the security of a high profile foreign embassy by bluffing my way in with a spanner strapped to my inner thigh. I narrowly escaped getting shot.

While working with fashion magazines, TV and cinema, I’ve acted in commercials and been dubbed into Turkish. I once played in a pop video next to an old star whose wig got blown into the sea by a helicopter and had to delay my crying scene when I couldn’t stop chuckling.

I was once aggressively pursued by a billionaire, and had his bodyguards frighten off my lovers. I’ve been told I have boobs like oranges by the local muhtar, and I’ve jumped out of a moving taxi outside the Dolmabahce Palace, once it became apparent that was the safest option.

Men acting inappropriately on the street have been knocked unconscious by the same hands that have massaged the rich and famous. Burglars have been chased out of my house by a naked screaming Mad Me and been hit with things both large and metal. I’ve turned the tables on an incompetent electrician and plumber duo by insisting they take off their socks and stand in my newly installed bath to see how long it takes them to be electrocuted. They re-installed it post haste.

The same woman who has had her favourite vibrator stolen by her cleaners, and DEMANED to know which one took her “plastic pee-pee which goes jjzzzzzzzzzzz”, has taught in schools and supervised other teachers. She has taken care of her own and others children. And she has taken solace in her local village and been humbled by the sense of community and freedom it has offered to her and her family freely.

Turkey has given me the opportunity to grow and change with it. To try, to succeed and to fail on a daily basis. And it has given me some wonderful stories to tell. The sense of achievement each day that I am still alive, and have not yet been mown over by a taxi or swallowed by an earthquake are probably reason enough to be glad. But there are always more.

And now after all this time, and with all the beautiful and dreadful people, both Turkish and foreign whom I have met over the years, I have a family of incredible friends, Yemeksipeti, an ex-husband who has turned out to be a fantastic dad, two cats and my two amazing bi-lingual young children who manage to ensure that life never gets dull in an entirely new way.

I’m still a yabanci. Yet I’m also Istanbulu. I’ve gone almost completely native, and I’m home.

Even now as I sit surrounded by a useless paperwork monster, around 3 cubic metres of half filled boxes, bare, stained walls and way too many bin-bags fit to burst. As I send hundreds of emails with two completely separate CV’s to prospective yet unlikely employers in the UK. And as I bite my nails while looking at ugly, small, miniature windowed, overpriced rental houses in Cornwall, and drink a gallon of tea (with milk) per day. This is still home.

Don’t get me wrong… I am very excited about moving back to the UK. We have many very good reasons for doing so, other than just the words ‘Fresh Start’, and real Cheddar cheese. But…

Well just ‘But…’ really.

No matter how many things I may hate about here, like power and water cuts, I’m sure there’ll be as many -if not more- that I will hate about my old and my future home, the UK. After being here so long there are less things I miss about there, than I know I will miss about here.

Burasi Istanbul abi yah. It’s here. And even when I’m not, I’m pretty sure it will remain my home for a long while yet.

So as I finish typing up my little farewell note to her, with more than a tear or two in my eyes, maybe I’ll have to start working on re-writing the words to that old song again… I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien, I’m an Istanbulu in England.

Sisters Grinn

2011-01-08T18:54:00.000+02:00

in my absence here, we have been busy here and there...

Being in cities, and making them.
And over the last year we have all been very busy writing and drawing and painting stuff.
And today i believe it's time to share, or at least begin to.

But first, does anybody remember this? It's from way back when i first started to do underpants, and actually did. blog.
The 'lets were only four at the time, and we spent most of our time at home :):)
And they spent almost all their time painting and drawing and building, and were just beginning to write.

Nowadays they are 8. They go to school and rarely get home before 5pm. They have ballet class on Saturdays and i have to share them 2 nights a week with their dad. Which all in all leaves us precious little time for much of anything frankly!

But they do still manage to produce the odd bit of brilliance, and i'm going to share some of the stuff that's made me smile recently. (transcribed exactly as written on the originals)

First up are some recent Fairy stories from the Sisters Grinn

The Cauli flower cheese monster

By Loveday Grinn

The cauli flower monster was very weird. When ever he was hungry he would eat himself. But when he would eat his body the body would grow cauli flower again. But he was actually a cauli flower cheese monster. So then one cheesy morning the cauli flower cheese monster woke up and decided to try something else to eat. So he went out, he saw a bug and tried to eat it, but it was yucky so he went on. Then he found a turtle, he tried eating it, but it was hard to eat. Then he found a human. He tried eating it. It started to cry and cry and cry. Then he stopped, he couldn’t do it. It was to young to die so he went home and ate his body.

The leaf Eater

By Yashi Grinn

Eleynie was looking forward to Christmas and wished she would get a puppy. Her mum and dad said a dog was too expensive. They said that because they knew she didn’t believe in Santa Claus. Eleynie didn’t spend much time with them because they had so much work to do. She didn’t think it would be a very good Christmas.

On Christmas morning Eleynie ran to the living room and looked under the window (her mum and dad didn’t even care to get a Christmas tree). She saw four presents. She opened them one by one and none of them were a puppy. Then she heard a munching noise coming from outside. She looked out the window. She saw a puppy. It was starving. That’s why it was eating leaves. She brought it inside.

Her mum had said she could move whenever she liked so she decided to. She would bring the puppy with her. She packed her stuff. Then she gave the puppy a name. it’s new name was Stanley. Then she found a new home.

I will be posting some of this years art work later tonight or tomorrow. :)

has face on her egg.

2010-12-18T18:03:00.002+02:00

when mama was a little more 'Dog' and a little less 'Log'

2010-05-20T20:08:00.004+03:00

It's been 5 years since half-nekkid-Thursday started. I got on board almost a year after it started, in March 2006 with this self portrait of my arse:

bodily-functions-and-toilet-humour is the post that went with the arse.

I managed to keep it up (and pert) for about a year, on and off.

Here is the link to my last real HNT.

and one of the photos:

I still have the dress, the beer and remarkably, the shades. but no longer do i have the time, or the same habits. Also the arse has expanded slightly.

I'd love to get back to it. and to the writing.
but for now, i'll just be content with the desire. and the little reminders.

Thank you to Osbasso.
and to all the other HNT'ers with whom i have had so much fun with in the past. It's still a lovely idea, and i really do appreciate it very very much.

For more nekkidness sidle on over to my hnt tag.

Because nekkid time is funtime!

*

the knocky downy kitten club.

2010-04-26T10:42:00.008+03:00

Three months...?

It's rather ridiculous i know. but things are good. so that's something.

We've been busy.
The girls Love their school. although i'm still hammering my head on the fence about whether it's worth $20,000.
i like the new Doctor Who much more than i imagined i would.
i've joined a gym.. and like that EVERY bit as much as i imagined i would. in fact MORE. and still sing about it during times i'm not there, loudly, a lot.
Rob's got a job he really likes, plus he's still working at the school until june, which he hates. but we have enough money to eat meat again rather than lentils and beans everyday. so that's a plus.
i've recently spent a lot of time shouting at the po(+o)p(-e) and British politicians on the comp and telly.
Which is Always Fun.

Also, we have a new cat who isn't exactly new anymore. Our Beloved Fatboy was never returned to us, and we Still Miss Him Terribly. however after about 7 months of mourning tearfully and calling the Thieving Fucking Cunts in Samsun only to be Lied to, we met a Starving scraggly Little alley-kitten near the bins. and began to let go, while letting a new one in.
and that's what i will present for your viewing pleasure today.

The highly (honest gov'nor) edited pictorial life story so far of Gabriel Bernard Richens Orangejello Cheddar Mashup MacGregor.

FILTHY. even after his first bath.

Now that's more like it. Fluffness.

"ooh can i knock that down?"

"Ugh Humans. did you forgets i has CLAWS?"

"i is pwetending to be 'angelic' good huh?"

"Hmmm mine growin boneses luvs these gas pipes unders de carpet"

"is dis sofa shwinkin? or amz i gettin large?"

With age comes not just fat but also wisdom....?

Maybe Not.

"Anyway.... we have a new (read: 2nd hand and FREE thanks to my lovely friend Funda) sofa, which has plenty of room for big EIGHT year OLD Girlets. and MEEEEE!"

"paws off, she's MINE!"
*

And there you have it. some evidence of Aliveness in Us during the last 6 months.
Next time i'll be showing you some ART!
Let Art in fact. which makes it even more Brilliant. EIGHT year oldLets ART. they are EIGHT!!!
eight i tell you. how did That happen??
freaky.
but Bloody Marvelous.
*

R.I.P

2010-01-02T15:18:00.003+02:00

sob.

Don't blink!

2009-10-31T17:33:00.010+02:00

Blink and you're dead.

Don't turn your back

Don't look away.

And don't blink.

Good luck.

Who blinks?? I'm too scared to blink!

but here's two more... i just can't resist ;)

we luurve halloween ;)

happy all hallows all!
xxx

excuse me. hi... yeah.

2009-04-04T00:28:00.001+03:00

so hello. do you remember me? i used to come here sometimes. a while back.
you may have read me.
or not.

yeah, scraggy hair/spelling. and no capitalisation.
yeah i do do that. sorry.

i know yes, it is rather annoying. i do actually have a pretty flimsy feminist story to fail at justifying that actually.

no?
you don't?

ok.
sorry.

so um.

well...

the thing is, i am finally alone for an evening. rob is on a bus braving bulgarian border controls for his visa and the littlets are snuggled up in sleeping bags in a camp at the foot of my bed.
i kinda decided to sod the allergic sinus thing and pour some shandy and well, i've turned off the telly, put on some damien rice and i feel like i can actually finally actually say hi to old friends, and even consider updating my long neglected underpants.

would you mind?
really?

bugger.

i was sort of counting on you to say 'yes'.

anyway. sod it. you're here now..

life with twin ludicrouslets , dying computers, a partner who's a now a mostly unemployed, at home all day frustrated yet inspired-to-write Mac-Hog, too many things to do, or not do due to television and self-inflicted ennui of an evening, and cat stealers has meant i haven't actually aggressively shoved the boy off the seat in front of the computer and sat down alone at the one remaining household hand-me-down mac long enough to do anything but read mails and annoying news articles or rush off lesson plans or crap magazine articles since before christmas.
ugh.
but at least i am still able to write the worlds longest sentence in 2 minutes flat.

and apart from the dying and dead computers and cunty cat stealers, and lack of writing on underpants purely for my amusement, life is good ;) if a bit lot skint.

and i still sing a lot.
which helps.

but i do miss my fatcat*. and writing.

but enough about me.
sorry, it's been so long. i just needed to vent a little.

so what about you?
how are you doing?
no really... i do care.

really? yeah... i know you've told me already.
but i haven't read, or visited, or yes...
sorry.

yeah i'm crap.
i'll try to do that now.
really.

no really. i will.

ok, yeah.
so um.
cheers. thanks. bye.

for now.
i'll be back soon. ish at least.
no i will. but yeah, right, i'll check how you are doing first next time.

oh, um. yeah bye.
was good to...
ugh catch up.
later.
cheers.

*

fuck i miss him.

somebody's stolen my cat.

2009-03-12T00:02:00.001+02:00

and the bastards have sent him to samsun, to some sick mother.

bastards.

there will be blood.

oh yes i did eat too much chocolate orange, stuffing and figgy pudding and custard.

2008-12-26T02:20:00.004+02:00

happy christmakkah!

from your loving nearly middle-aged-new-aged-humanist-agnostic-atheistic christmas loving lush.

am shlightly pished.

i got vodka and chocolate. the lets got a sheep brains to dissect and remote controlled flying stuff. macyummy got a book and chess.

and we all got fat and tired and huggy.

hope you did too. ish.

kisses.

edit (one vodka later) : apparently i'm actually a pantheistic-nearly middle-aged-new-aged-humanist-agnostic-atheistic christmas loving lush.

re-edit (after a good sleep, orange juice, and two cups of earl grey) : or not.

geniuslets

2008-12-04T20:17:00.003+02:00

let1: "if nothing existed and before anything was, what colour would it be?"

me: "ummm, maybe black?"

let2: "no. because black is a colour and if nothing existed there wouldn't be colours yet"

sigh.

the bile before the storm.

2008-11-25T16:06:00.003+02:00

i should write something clever here.

also i should go and make dinner out of all the organic veg that's rotting in the fridge.

i should sort out all the scraps of paper lying about in 4 bags, spilling off the desk, and covering shoes in the hallway.

i should also be able, by this ridiculous age, to afford to send my daughters to a school where they don't get hit, punched, pinched or scratched every day, have their lunch thrown on the floor or get sent home, because schools been cancelled at the last minute, with a stranger who then, finding noone at home, leaves their lunch outside my front door, takes them back to school, leaves them there with some other strangers, and doesn't inform me, their dad or my partner despite having all our mobile phone numbers, AT ALL ALL BLOODY DAY.

but i'm too fucking angry.

so i'm going to cry, and swear a lot instead.

cuntingshittingarsefucks. haven'tgotafuckingbraincellbetweenthem.
screwingaroundwithmydaughters,i'llgivethemafriggingblollockingthey'llneverfuckingforget.
arsingfuckwits. bunchoffuckingpenises. crappylittledipshits.
gggggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

and have a beer.

the beautifulets will not be attending school tomorrow. but i will.

but first i'll get out the dictionary and work out how to say the above in turkish. and some.

cocksuckers.

A day in the life.

2008-10-08T19:30:00.001+03:00

or That which makes it all worthwhile...

in the ever cosy darkness of the 'letroom, two warm, single beds, pushed together and tied with ribbons and an old spotty hairband have a dip between them. this depression, filled with soft excess quiltage and two little stray hands cushion my body perfectly on each side.

another hand rests light upon my throat, as another gently caresses my cheek.

and one of their owners quietly whispers

"you are the best mummy in the whole wide world mummy."

"and loveday is the best sister."

and rob is the best............ mummy's friend."

"i love you so much."

"here, have some money. it's for you"

"and here's one for rob too."

"i love making you presents. and being generous."

"i love you."

earlier in the day we went to school. i to sing, wipe noses and teach the putting on and off of shoes to nine 2 year olds over and over again all morning.
them, to write 11 pages of useless surf.

they cried as soon as i picked them up, telling me once again how they don't like their school, or the pushing and shouting it appears to involve.

we drank fresh lemonade at the health food shop while we discussed how rubbish but necessary our respective schools are, before buying ingredients for tomorrows packed lunch and walking home to do another two hours of our english home-school comprehension and maths measuring work.
they showed me their perfectly made beds that they'd made themselves this morning after i left at silly o'clock. they fed the cats again. then i did the dishes and not yet enough of the laundry, cooked cauliflower and blue cheese soup, and organic roka and tuna quiche with sauted potatoes while they built cities and covered the front room with chair towers and ninjas and man eating sharks.

we ate together, talking to our new turtles and watching them do gymnastics and dive practice.

we called our favourite birthday boy back in blighty, and tackled the monstrous demolition and tidy up job, and then teeth, pyjamas on and off to bed to read stories and sing songs as we've done each night for the last 6 years.
while the best mummy's best mummy's friend made the lunches and stacked and wiped.

i still have washing to hang out, and wash, and iron and put away, and school plans to write, and underpants and photographs from this (and last summer still) to edit, and a piece to write for the local magazine, about how once you've been fortunate enough to have a maid to clean up after you and iron, you become frankly incapable, and desperately call her name at least twice a day when she leaves for a two month much deserved holiday.
and the paper monster on the desk is spreading.

but the lovelylets, restless and still chatty, stroke my cheeks and tell me how much they love and miss me, and beg me not to leave them, ever. while i sink slowly between the beds and feel so full of pride and joy and love and worry that my heart could burst. and i tell them that i am exactly where i want to be.

but if i'm completely honest, i could also really murder a vodka and a fag.

bad language.

2008-10-05T17:37:00.002+03:00

one of my daughters just said baths are lame.

lame!??

i blame the resident yank and camp rock.

grrrrrr.

what a lame post.

now obviously, MY laughable punctuation, crap spelling and minimal capitalisation are sort of done on purpose. kind of. like...

2008-09-10T18:15:00.001+03:00

but how on earth can anyone (or group of anyones) possibly be capable of running a pretty bloody large country if they don't even have a good enough grasp of the English language to understand analogies, even ones they've used themselves in the recent past?

it begs the question, (as they have used the same analogy themselves) whether or not they have a friggiting CLUE what the fuck they are talking about.

well no, actually it doesn't. they just don't.

i'm sorry that i feel the need to say this, all my lovely american friends, (i'm not really saying it to you as i'm pretty sure any of my friends reading this feel exactly the same way... i just needed to rant as i've had another shit september day and feel like taking it out on here and on someone who deserves it- not you...) but your republican party are a bunch of cuntybrained arsewipes who will do everything they can to hurt anyone who doesn't agree with them. which appears to mean about half the country.

ugh.

palin doesn't mind destroying the environment in alaska (never mind the rest of our planet) to bring the price of oil down.
and honestly, is that really something that's top of the list of priorities???? the price of oil???????

after all, it's only that price because the oil companies like being rich.

oil SHOULD be expensive, not to make the bastards rich but because it's a limited resource and we should be concentrating on weening ourselves off our addiction and finding alternative methods of making ourselves lazy, fat and toasty.

also, both palin and mccain want to ban abortions. they both want to even make contraception be seen as abortion. they both want to force women to carry babies they don't want and overpopulate the world even further. just because they don't like it.

and apparently because palin has been picked, now women will vote for them?? really? are they completely mad??? she obviously has absolutely No sympathy or empathy whatsoever for most women in america. she has said nothing so far about the fact that america is one of only 3 countries in the world (along with Papua New Guinea, Swaziland, Lesotho) which don't provide paid maternity leave for women as standard. she has said nothing at all about all the children born without healthcare.
because frankly, she's alright. and she doesn't give a flying fuck if anyone else is or not.

but what really pisses me off most (insert sarcasm here) is that they think nothing of using bad grammar, tropical storms and smear campaigns based on utter nonsense to get what they want.

they are as loopy, narrow minded and hateful as scientologists.

and they scare the crap out of me. (just like scientologists)

i like americans. i'm in love with one, and i'm very fond indeed of his family. and i love at least 3 others, my children are american citizens. and i'd quite like to maybe be able to make them all happy and spend some more time there in the near future.

but frankly, if half of america's voters allow those horrible illiterate phonies to continue in power i will have to put my foot down and say no!

No! to my babies doing trick or treating or thanksgiving.
No! to all that gorgeous thick cut smoked bacon you make so well.
No! to learning a few of the rules of fumbleball.
No! to pecan pie (ouch... this is getting painful)
No! to family reunions (ughaaaaooooooooowwwww!)
No! to beautiful wide open spaces (kkkkkgggghhhhhuuuugh)

it hurts.

and not only that, but what the fuck will the freaks do to the rest of the world?? it's too terrifying to even contemplate. so far in their last 2 terms in office they have managed to kill hundreds of thousands of foreigners and american soldiers alike.

it just makes me shudder.

so please, i beg of you, give peace, freedom, marginally cleaner air and family planning a chance.
do not let the bastards pull you down.

or make me and my family endure another four years of me shouting vulgar remarks at the telly everytime the fuckwits come on the news.

i promise i'll also take the necessary risk and vote our ridiculously crapfilled british government out too as soon as i get the chance. and i have to add, obama has really cool ears. that's totally worth voting for. all our british alternatives look like they've been hung upside down for 2 hours, and i'll still vote for them any one of them as long as they''re not labour. (ugh that hurts too)

ex-brownies honour.

with lipstick on.

buggeringcuntingshitforbrainsarsingfriggitybollocksingtosspots.
gggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

oops sorry. must turn off news NOW.

and stop reading the 2008 GOP platform (pdf)

or at least buy earplugs for the innocentlets.

bugger it all. september is crap.

2008-09-03T15:31:00.004+03:00

we hate school.

yashi most. every day she cries. embarrassed, she hides it, and wipes away her tears silently, until someone asks "what's wrong?" and then she breaks down in unstoppable sobs.

loveday tried to be strong for her sister, and me. joined in as much as she could. but now she develops tummy aches. bent double, crying in pain. "can't possibly go today", but is cured within half an hour and forgets the hurt, once told she can stay home.

i peel tiny fragile hands away from my arms. fake smile and cheerfully tell them "it will be ok. i promise. i love you. see you soon."

and then i leave. i go and teach someone else's children and watch them all go through the same.
i take calls from their teacher and listen to the sobs down the phone.
and cry myself, as soon as i get a moment alone.

i hate school.

i have nightmares. i awake in tears, after falling from great heights and losing my grip on babies who are pulled down faster, further, away from me.
nightmares where i cant stop swearing, and my children say "oh for fucks sake" when things go wrong.
nightmares where i tell white lies to my children and can't find them again to say sorry a moment later.

then i'm awoken by cries from their bedroom, as they have woken too, sweaty and scared of indescribable monsters who took them before i could save them.

all is not well in hogland or letland.
september sucks.

we all hate school.

hotness

2008-08-03T23:23:00.003+03:00

we've been busy being strange.

and hot.

and up to our necks in sorting out the craploads of crap that are crapping up our home.

and computer.

will post something more coherent and interesting once i've deleted, sold and chucked out said crap and can actually find my mind.

now, where is it?

(this is where you'd be able to click on a link and listen to the pixies. if my mind had been found, and it had space to search for a site to host it for me.)
(or actually, i suppose then it wouldn't be relevant anyway.)

so if you have any pixies, play some now.

if you can find it.

hair today...

2008-05-23T22:30:00.001+03:00

gone tomorrow.

the lovelet just got even cuter :) and now i feel as if my heart is going to burst.

my darling bravelet was so insistent that she wanted her gorgeous locks cut off "just 'coz" that i had to give in. but we couldn't find a style we all liked. until we walked into the place, saw the lovely german girl who worked there, and loveday leaned and whispered in my ear "i want my hair just like hers. only without the glasses, and without the old"

for now yashosh is happy to keep her beautiful tresses long. and as long as we do lovely, pretty things with them, she's gorgeous enough to keep people looking at her too, and not just freaking out about how fabulous loveday's new cut is.

of course it helps that's she's funny.

and the bribe/promise that i'll let her dye a couple of streaks semi-permanent pink, once i find some cool hair dye, also helps.

grimm fairytales. to put you to sleep.....

2008-05-01T18:51:00.002+03:00

once upon a time in a land far far away, lived an aging swellhog and her two beautiful young daughters. despite being delightfully happy, busy and productive, they all occasionally, secretly wished for a fit, interestingly talented, yet decent bloke too do household chores, play ticklegames with and generally enable them all to sit for hours in front of crap telly. they were not even aware at the time that they wished for this. but deep down they are pretty sure they did.
during the peaceful hours of eventime, once her brilliant offspring had drifted off to their sleepy dreamworld of mermaids and luke skywalker, the swellhog, who hadn't yet begun to swell, would sit and write cackhanded stories about their lives.
she would illustrate her tales with amateur photographic snippets, and absolutely wonderlet drawings which depicted their humble yet exotic seeming lives quite adequately given the dodgy equipment.

lo and behold, one particularly busy day, the secretly wished for decent bloke actually bloody appeared, as if by magic from the stalkernet, by way of contemporarymail.
the swellhog was almost too hassled at the time to notice as she was busy packing for a freebie weekend break to blighty with the current diversionary tactical male.
but appear he did, and despite being properly fobbed off for a dirty weekender, he continued to write his support and funnies. and upon the swellhogs return, she, in characteristic twatiness, gave away way too much information, and their friendship was sealed.
the beautiful young daughters, never happy to be left out, joined in whenever they could, sending pictures and soundbites, and monkey textspeak galore.

before long the three, far, far away unladylike ladies had enveloped the more than decent bloke into their peculiar weblife, and, after months of romantic yet completely nerdsome correspondence, the virtual lovers finally met. our more than decent bloke sent a bounty with which his hearts desire could purchase the means to fly across the ocean, to be near him, and meet with him at last.

the swellhog had stopped eating lunch for months and spent hours and days in the worlds most expensive gym, sweating and starving. she swam and sunbathed compulsively and even began painting yuckstuff on her nails to get into peak physical perfection in order to wow the decent bloke. and wow it did.

when they met, they fell into each others arms, and despite the difference in space and time, and the seriously fucked up shoulder ache, drugs and love did the wonderful things that drugs and love often do, and lusty love blossomed.

but before long our lovely lusty pair had to return to the reality of different spaces and times. and already swellinghog boarded her plane and was returned to her two most precious loves, her beautiful daughters.

for over half a year, these lovers talked each sunrise and sundown. they wrote the words they had each fallen in love with across the world. and they waited and planned, and dreamed of the day they would be together. more than decent bloke, visited, once halfway across the world, at the land of our heroines own mother, and once at her own birthaversary, until finally it came. the day he would come at last, and stay.

two days before the most beautiful girls in the worlds birthday, decent bloke made his biggest voyage yet. the biggest adventure of his life. the one in which he would become a member of that far far away household, and start doing the chores proper like. starting with making the birthday cakes.

happily ever after is a myth as we all, by now, surely know. that doesn't mean it has to be unhappily ever after either though of course.

adapting to a supposedly exotic country is never easy, what with the bloomin power cuts 'n shit. and fitting into a close knit family of three (albeit flipping fabulous) women for a decent bloke can surely be no picnic either. but our hero performed amazingly, as we never doubted he would.
accepting a bloke in, no matter how decent, and having to give a toss about what he thinks about stuff and actually remember to listen and tell him things is not easy either for an independent swellinghog.
and as for those superb little wonderbeings, the greatest daughters in the world, it surely cannot have been a bed of roses having to share swellingmummy. or have another person to notice misdemeanors and tell them off in loud bloke voice.

yet each and everyone of our heroines and our hero, made a life together worthy of cheese. they found one another across a world of difference, and struggled and laughed and bitched and shouted at and with one another in their exotic sounding home consistently for over a year.
and they were happy.

then one day, they decided it was time to all go together to visit decent blokes own family. time to fly together over the seas, to meet his delightful mother, and father and sister, and her own glorious offspring. the date they set was a year to the day of very much more than decent blokes arrival in their home. they found tickets which wouldn't cost them a kings ransom, and contacted all the kings men to make sure that there would be no problem just paying the hefty fine for having overstayed their tourist visas at the airport, as had always been the rule of the land. our swellhog was not in the least afraid as having been a visitor herself to this land for 12 long years she had paid many a fine every time she left almost, and was always welcomed back for the mere ten spondoolies she graced the visa dude man's sweaty palm with.
having been assured of a safe return by one of the kings women, the swell family set off for the western lands not quite as quietly as the neighbours would probably have liked in the middle of a sultry pitch black night in the late spring.

only to be told by one of the kings very sleepy men at the home of the great winged creature that would whisk them away to the western reaches, that they would be banished.

banished. for months and months.

they left their far far away exotic sounding land, banished. a year to the day of their wonderful beginning of a life together. and took wing across the worlds blue waters to the western lands slightly in denial.

a fabulous holiday was had. despite the in denial swellhog's mutinous lumber region, and the consequential taking of many many drugs and the highly embarrassing use of a wheelchair for museum trips. they bought dinosaur eggs, and remote control spiders. they ate swell flabblob inducing foods, and blue candyfloss. they spoke with birds, and americans. they met an elf, a girl with a magic finger, and their brilliant elder brother and sister, and even an olivia. they saw an orangutan with an ear fetish and got plants that eat bugs. they celebrated the incredible daughters sixth birthdays with fantabulous new grandparents.
and after frantic letter writing and phone calls with consulates, the swellhog and her most wondrously beautiful progeny took flight once again, back to the far far away lands thoroughlyish unbanished.

but they had to leave their very much more than a lot decent bloke behind. and kiss him goodbye.
for three long months.

and now they sit. decent blokeless, skint and rather a bit more than fed up.

and the once romantic correspondence that brought our currently star-crossed lovers together continues. slightly less romantic now, and a bit more bloody annoying.

but they will endure. and one day not toooooooooo far from now, these miraculous lovers and their wonderlets will meet once again.

in a land far, far away.

*

it's been a hell of a month. it's ongoing.
but the fabulets are evermore wondrous.

so that's something.

and now they are six.

i hope all's well in all the other far far away lands.

g'night.

i pledge never to swear my allegiance to

2008-03-11T21:24:00.003+02:00

fuckwittage like this.

but i'm always happy to swear at it.

how bloody DARE they????

making our children pledge allegiance to the queen?? what the friggitybollocksing hell do they think they are playing at?

and don't even get me started on singing 'we are the pantsing crapsong world'.

what a bunch of dimwitted cuntybrains.

arsing tosspots. can go stick their shrunken shit-for-brains down their beloved majesty's corgi's lavatory.

and i'll happily flush it while they are at it.

fucking muppets.
.

rosbif sans frogs.

2008-02-20T17:48:00.007+02:00

ok i know heat rises 'n shit. but i never appreciated until now, how much the downstairs neighbours heating warmed my tootsies.

and they've only gone and moved out.

my feet are frozen.
and i detest wearing slippers.

and i miss practicing my french by listening in on their private conversations in the backyard.

ma petit pied est geler?

is that right? it doesn't have quite the same ring as 'ma petite culotte est mouillée'
and now my spelling. grammar and accent are just fucked.

poo and oui.

i miss them.
i'm a call em and beg for their return.
or at least for a cup of tea and fromage at their new maison.

and i hope we get cool new neighbours soon.
who like to be warm, and are partial to screamy elephants overhead.

white out.

2008-02-17T03:23:00.004+02:00

snow is falling. it's a blizzard out there.
my cab ride home alone should have been scary but somehow wasn't. booze makes us resilient.
my shoulder (5 old slipped discs) is achy.
the house is empty and cold, and i gravitate toward melancholy music as always.
there's cat shit on the bathroom mat.

yet snow always makes me happy.
and booze makes us resilient.
and numbs pain.
the house is empty because my children are staying with their father who they love, and my new love is playing poker with his new found mates just down the road.
melancholy music makes me smile and sigh.
and i'm brilliant at ignoring cat shit.

the wind is drumming a rhythm with the plastic crap and bits of broken tables and chairs left on the balcony, and the playlist is looking up.

i'm out of touch, and a little annoyed with myself for letting life take over.
but i forgive.

because i'm busy. i have the worlds best buffers. and i saw some fabulous films and danced like a twat.

and later we will all dress up woolen toasty, head outside, and make an igloo.

life is good.

am sulking.

2008-01-23T18:00:00.000+02:00

have headache.

Heath Ledger is dead. sob.

and Obama's a twat.
(not because of his muslim roots and any fuckwitted smear campaign, but due instead to his pathetic defensive crap like: i'm a christian and believe in jesus etc.
i knew but hate to be reminded that america and its politicians rely on the "religious" vote as much as the so called fundamentalist countries they attack everyday.)

and that when shitfaced and tatally word deficited my definition of old school "cool" s so ruthelessly unmdermined by a spring macbantom that i'm slagged off for incoherentidnessness. just coz he wouldn't know an 80's cool tune/livestyle if it rolled over and snorted itselfself.
(i mean it's all relative and i'm the first to admit that i'm terminally uncool now. thank fuck!( and yoda)
bah sucks.

heath ledgers dead and he shouldn't be.

am severely disappointed.

n' shit.

+pp and spellingness and soberness. nut i mean EVERY worsd.

++SULK.

on the last days of christmas....

2007-12-28T16:17:00.001+02:00

my true love sent to me...
via gmail...

the yummiest sister/aunty and cousins EVaaaaaaaaR !!!!

go on listen. it's fantabulous ;)

now obviously, as these first two songs are what i used to sing to the babylets when they were teeny WEEny, i cried.
all the way through.
as did my mum who came over to visit.
great uncled-erek who was visiting too, aww'ed and laughed. as did macyummy and the ginormouslets.

and we played games, ate too much and had a party with good friends and home made pies.

it was all we could ask for and more.

i hope yours was too.

to peace, love, happiness, understanding, and compassion in this coming year.
and for an end to fucked up sinuses.

i'll raise a guinness for us all.

and we'll make our own (rather less well produced) audio response soon i promise.
and try to write more.
and start working out again.
and keep away from the cancer sticks.
and go and see the herbalist bloke.
and keep enjoying and loving my wonderful babies, lover, friends and family more than infinity in trousers everything.

mwuah!

thank you for the....

2007-11-22T11:30:00.000+02:00

happy thanksgiving!

now that i'm living with a macyank i apparently have to serve mashed potatoes (? really? just mash?) with roast (or deep fried if he gets his hands on a bigger saucepan) turkey (or rather chicken, as we've been having trouble locating turkeys here in turkey), and watch american fumbleball all evening.

good grief.

oh well, i can think of worse things to be doing.... thank goodness i've got chicken, potatoes, gravy browning and a yummy family to enjoy it all with!
AND, the 2 herniated disks which threw themselves out centrally and made me into a screaming, crying, swearing and wheelchair/sofa bound, metre-rule wielding madwoman for the last week have begun to ease themselves towards their proper resting place.
and i can stand up straight again.

just in time to cook.

so while i hobble on over to my physiotherapist before starting on the bird stuffing, i wish all the other americans i know a very happy day, full of food, the giving of thanks and fumbleball.
and while the bird's in the oven and before the guests arrive, i'll ask you to go over and improve your mind while giving away some free food, to others. so that they might be thankful too.

go on! it's fun, charitable and educational all in one. definitely one more thing to be thankful for.

along with:
brilliant physiotherapists.
enough food to make us slightly in need of the world most expensive gym.
gorgeous, healthy and helpful children.
a macyummy who doesn't really mind what i cook, but is cute/tricky enough to inspire me to do what he wants.
male nurses who have the kind of drugs that make me very happy to have needles in my arse.
spuds.
cheese.
sunshine.
my fabulous group of girlfriends who came to my rescue and laughed as i hobbled and screamed and waved my stick, and cried.
my helper galina, who suprised and massaged cream into me and helped get me stuff without complaining once.
my new camera.
the knowledge that my family will be coming over for christmas.
pear juice.
my truly invaluable wooden metre-rule.

happy maclaysiaday

2007-11-09T00:00:00.000+02:00

sadly i can't be with you today.

but i can give you the next best thing:

isn't she
pretty

oops! but what was she thinking??

now hurry back baby, with new technology, and take pictures of the fatblob. i'll still look a little like this with the right lense, stockings (over it) and half a bottle of vodka ;)

happy birthday mactoyboy.
i love this time of year when for 10 days you are only half a decade younger than me.

but at any age...infinity.
in trousers.
found.

hakfthugh!

2007-11-05T21:49:00.000+02:00

snotting buggery.

i'b bin dzick egged. as as de yashosh.

but wid de nazal spway ud bitabins is geddid a bit beda.

i was gettin wreally frustraded, and cross wiv de messy 'apartmed, so i'b bid boovig de furniture, ad decoratigs. so at least de 'ouse is lookid better now.

but by boyfreds id maclaysia.

ad i'b got to go back to work toboro.

so ab 'opig the wild 'edache and bonkers bind wondering will stop.

sorry. i do this hurts to read but fuck it. i'b dick. and i hate chicken soup so don't eben try.

i will be back to share sub of de wild bind wonderigs when i don't soud quite so paffe'ic.

bye.

falling leaves

2007-10-22T18:25:00.000+03:00

down a little alleyway behind the wesley chapel. moss on the ever damp concrete, where the sun rarely shone, i'd let myself in. somehow inside was always bright. everything painted white. or variations thereof.

i drop my bag next to the figurines on the side, and head through to the kitchen. a frozen 'fresh' cream and jam sponge is defrosting on the table. bless her.
lift the lid of the chest freezer and pull out 2 rectangular butter sauce boil-in-the-bag fish. now where are the new potatoes?

the little net curtain in the widow is still and spotless, and the radio plays, though i can't be bothered to pay attention to what- 'golden oldies' i expect.

nanny's still at the oxfam shop, where she volunteers. there's a jumper and a tight red skirt in the bag that i bought from her earlier, when i popped in to get her order for tea.

i love this woman. and this place. i love this ancient orange flowery biscuit tin, that is never EVER empty.
god i do love biscuits.
i love these naff white china horses, and old fashioned paintings. i love the massive dictionary and scrabble board always within reach. and i love her old lady smell. similar to the one at the oxfam but cleaner and crisper and tinged with coal tar soap.

she's not my nanny by blood. she's my sisters but not mine.
she's the mother of the man i dislike thinking about more than any other.
but he is never ever mentioned. we never let that stop either of us.
she's my nanny by will.
she's still nanny. and now that i've left home and moved away and then back against my will and have to travel miles to school, she is my rock. my little haven of peace. and it suits her well.
this wonderful woman was divorced for a younger model years before. she's a good christian. a bright, cheerful, forgiving and caring woman. she helps. and never says a bad word. ever.

all we need is a little radio. hot tea and convenience food. countdown or scrabble and conversation from our wildly different lives. she tells me of choral recitals, her friends, her job her sister, her daughter, my sister. then i talk of hair dye and house parties. we are somehow both interested. and we smile. and we laugh.

laughed and smiled. when i visited her yearly once i'd left.
when i was pregnant and huge and wobbly.
when i brought my babies to meet her.
when she almost forgot who we were, but hid it quite well considering.

and i cried as i left.
never to see her again.
i knew.

i miss her. gone now for a year. my nanny.

*

so different from my gran. who died many years ago now, when i was only 15.
she with the fantastic food, meat and gravy pies, the only edible scrambled egg of my childhood, the buttery potatoes and seafood sometimes presented in shells.
and her marvelous frocks.
and getting up at 6am to take out her curlers, put on a sexy baby-doll and climb back into bed with papa.
she who convulsed on the floor to last of the summer wine and danced to burl ives and gave me asda stamps, and stationary to play office with.
and who pulled me out from the back of the sofa for masturbating and told me it would make me ill.
but who also let me dress up in her shoes and taught me that a girls should wear good moisturizer and be nice and smiley -never a bitch- as scowls are bad for the skin.
who took me to buy leather gloves, stylish tweed suits, and wore a deerstalker hat.
she who would laugh loud at the world in our kitchen and everywhere she went, and tell stories of women she still called by their maiden names 40 years on.

who died suddenly and young and refused to have her date of birth written on her cremated remains plaque. as she'd spent years, and good money concealing her age.

*

so different again from olwenorbetty. those inseparable maiden (great) aunts (papa's sisters) from my childhood, who outlasted them both.
those peculiar women who picked their teeth. and spoke low and funny.
who put me off lemon curd almost for life. -by very demonsterously sucking the knife and replacing it in the jar.
who's boobs somehow managed to come lower than their waists despite the rest of us all having AAcups or tissues shoved down our fronts.
who wore woolen stocking, and sandals. and unashamedly sported hair on legs, chins and upper lips. and who insisted on always kissing everyone wetly on the lips.
who always seemed confused.
and confused the young me. and us. and who's names i could never really tell from the other.
until now.
now that olwen's gone too. this july just passed. and i finally know which one travelled to asia and germany as a young nurse/midwife. which sister sent my mum and uncled-erek exotic presents and returned one day different, and odd.

and now betty is alone, and depressed. and still writes tragic yet hilarious, yet tragic letters. (like about how olwen used to perform midwifery on a bike, or how betty tried to kill herself in a bath) and a memoir, telling us how much she still misses her brother (the reason my gran took out her curlers and went back to bed- my papa), and now sister, and remembers a life not as much lived, as endured, feeling grateful for small mercies, yet heavy under their weight.

*

paolo nutini- autumn
*

and now autumn is here again.
and the other generations of women in my family are all going about their business.
feeling the weather turn wet and cold and windy.
watching the leaves turn.
patching clingfilm over splits in terraces to stop the rain flooding the french women's flat downstairs.
tightening purse-strings for the cold winter to come, and for christmas presents we've yet to buy.
reading with their children, and thinking about how to clean the place up before the older generation comes to visit.
reading with their mothers and wishing they could watch some telly.
thinking about photos and frames, and ways to make sure we are not forgotten. and don't forget. how to keep ourselves and the women who helped shape us alive. for the next lot.
how to keep busy, and happy with all this weight.

i thought i liked autumn. it's colours, and smells, it's chestnuts, conkers and leaves to gather.

but i think i've been mistaken. maybe with the years it's just taken on another meaning.

in more recent years autumn makes me a little sad.

last year certainly did, for good/bad reason. and this year feels much the same. for no reason other than the feeling.
we've lost another 2 of our remarkable women since last autumn.

and today i can't help but wonder who, of all my family of women, i resemble the most.

eva cassidy- autumn leaves

oops i appear to have mislaid my mouse

2007-10-17T17:19:00.000+03:00

or my inspiration, or my will to blog.

dear, dear me, i have been neglecting my underpants terribly.
and you.
many apologies.

i've been busy having work related drallemas, which almost resulted in a job change but morphed at the last second into a pay rise, lots more creative input and responsibility, and my own art room project, in which the whole school will be invited to get messy.
which in the end is a good thing for all.

and i've been doing lots of very little else frankly. lots of being too lazy to go out, or to sort out photos or films, or to write, read, or even to watch rubbish tv.
and LOTS of long hot baths and early nights.

any more details would bore you to tears so i'll give none.

but, life is good.

except for the fatblob, which is the next mission. once i buy membership at the world most expensive gym again for my birthday next month.

despite which, i promised to show a few of you my bum....

CLOSE YOUR EYES NOW IF YOU DIDN'T SIGN THE PETITION!

it is a vintage, pre-blob bum, obviously.
but hey it's still funny to look at how teensy those hips were in those days -back in the last century-, the newer, post bloblets, and cheeseblob bum version, could eat 'em for breakfast.

i'm afraid, as you may remember my beloved nikon got nicked so there'll will be no photographic evidence of the fatblob until it's all been conveniently and expensively, sweated and jiggled, and starved away.

but i will try to write a bit anyway in the meantime. and i've still got spaggillions of summer photos and films to avoid editing so you will still get the odd visual.

maybe.

occasionally.

pah, in my dreams.

phew that was exhausting... i've forgotten how to type. write. sit.

oh yay, wine please...

yes a large one.
and could you start running the bath?

ta babe.

what?

bloomin 'eck, look at that flippin mirage. was i really that much of a moody cowbag thenadays?

oh flippin 'eck.

2007-09-24T15:30:00.000+03:00

kebabistan's arsewitted lawyers have only gone and banned wordpress now! stupid friggin pillocks.

sorry for the rudearsey but they actually did it a while ago and it's still in effect now. and that makes me a bit pissed off about the posterior frankly.
bloody fuckwittage.

so pretty pwiddy please go sign the petition as it's a bit of a ghost town around there at the mo.

and in the meantime anyone around here can go visit wordpress bloggers by swapping the wordpress for the wordprexy.
ie:

istanbuldespatch.wordprexy.com
cassowary.wordprexy.com
almax.wordprexy.com

those buggers don't swear nearly as much as me either, so you'll probably like it over there.

ta very much and tes(sounds like 'sh')ekkur ederim and sa(silent 'g')ol and merci and if you're really nice, and sign from every single one of your email addresses using lotsa different names i might show you my bum.

in other news... accuweather.com says that our weather on thursday will be "Beautiful with several hours of sunshine. Winds from the NE at 6 km/h.
Realfeel®: 27˚c " which i find quite sweet. "beautiful" is so much nicer than 'fine' or 'fair' or even 'sunny' dontcha think?
sunday's looking even more cheerful look: "Brilliant sunshine and beautiful. Winds from the NE at 19 km/h.
Realfeel®: 23 °C"
i guess that's something turkland still has going for it anyway.

superb!

ta ta for now :)

edit again... now the moronic, narrow-minded teeny-weeny willied little pricks have gone and banned wordprexy.com.
arsewipes.

it was all started apparently because the lawyers of a total wanker head of a cult here got upset when a wordpress blogger slagged his 'religion'/money-making cult off, and as they are money making cul/nts the've paid lawyers to ban the whole of wordpress.

-on a side note, the afforementioned religious wierdo published a massive and very heavy book recently about creationism which he gave to journalists on some plush boat parties/ book releases. one of those journalists gave it to me to have a giggle at during a girls night a while back. as i opened the great tome (snigger) at the first page of photographs... ferns actually, a bug flew up out of it and into my face FREAKING me the fuck out! i closed the book on the nasty little buzzer instantly, yelled VERY loudly and jumped a couple of metres across the room.
i was mocked. a lot. and finished yet another large glass of wine very quickly.
but when we finally did find the page again, there, clear as black glutinous squelch and perfectly squished flat was a giant bigger-than-a-horsefly-adactyl. and it CAME OUT OF THE BOOK!!!!!!!!

now that's creepy. or anabiosis. or creationism at it's weirdest.

anyway thats 2 reasons now why i now detest the disgusting pisspot and his bunch of white suited cronies who want to ban words on a screen.

in the meantime you can find wordpress from here by going via proxy.org and ignoring the ads.

i'm off to make up some new swear words. i'm almost out.

tis talk like a pirate day 'a day

2007-09-19T18:45:00.000+03:00

'tis true. 'n we are REALLY quite very good at this actually. 'coz i 'arken from down smugglers cove way i does. an the turribletwins was bornedown thur 'n all on a fairly cold spring day way back in naughty-two.

as you well knows by the now, we sailed as if by a winged serpent drectly on to the turklands, an, to our hugelynormousishlike credit, av' become the dreaded Pirates of PissTanBul.
'Cap'n loveday the RRRRRRrrrrrrrrr' and 'Cap'n vahshi yashi' * arr old 'ands at sharin the limelight, the command, the bounty, and stealin and kerbludgeonin. an we're busy doin undercover stinksomey work at an 'ighly gullable pre-schooly thingymajig at the moment. we got 'em well fooled that we' are sweetness 'n light fer now... but we're allweeys on the lookout for a weakness or an angle don'tcha worry 'bout that.
*'vahsi'- an old turkish/persian/azerbeyjani/arabic word, with a squiggly 's' wot means 'sh' means, in english luangijical terms: 'wild', 'savage', 'barbarous' or 'un-tamed' i'll av you know.

so ye go on an av a fine chattersome day me darlin's ('n don't go skimpin on the rum, it does grease the'old vocal achordilons a treat!) or a'll av ye come an swab the turkledecks for me. they're done covered in sgetibolnez thanks to the scummy young twosome.

oooh an afore i set sail in my faithful old bubblebathtub again, does this not freak the fuckockles out of anyone else? i've done stuck an hounds tooth in me ear, spit on a blackbeard and done 7 turns on the poopdeck for superstischious buggeries sake but 'them meteors spreadin the plague sure do put the willies upa'me hind quarters an no mistake!

now Garrrawaywiya ya bunch of lilylivered bottom-of-me-toothbrush-pot-scum-bags!

phrrrrrt.

edit wednesday evensong whilst taking a gander at the 'fashion police' at the emmies: shiver me underpants me 'hearties... but be will ye New Worlders PLEASE be beggin me pardon and for the love of all thats wicked and wonderous STOP using the travestious phrasing "Umpire waist" (phugh!) and be using the most truthful greatness that is "Empire waist"?
even us vagabonds know that most umpires waists leave little to be desired.
but an empire waist is about the only goodly thing to come from that filthy french (HakPthUgh!) floozaphine the empress of old.

and it hurts grievously my dandyish floppy armed shirted soul to 'ear such foulness bein' said over again by so called fashiony expertieses.
'urts i say.
and maketh me wanna stab something nastily female in blue taffeta, with stupid flippish 'air.
so it does.

don't be fooled...

2007-09-16T20:58:00.000+03:00

oh yes sure they look innocent enough here...

but only weeks before they were doing this...

and the pirates of just down the road from penzance were not just acting the daredevils, they were taking hostages.

luring blue-eyed angels into the tub...

just to take e'm hostage and stab 'em brutalishly in the underarm area. after lunch.

thank heavens for the not-quite-light-saber wielding fart-monster/blue-eyed-angel brother.

he gassed em good.

and after extensive therapy/hypnosis/bribes they're acting more or less normalish again.

because, snuffle, we all start school tomorrow :( sob. sniff. SNORT.

and i've only just skimmed the edges of the photo/film/audio sortingout.
i might have to get them to kidnap some editors next time.

happy new week land lubbers.
and watch out for deceptively cute, cross dressing, wee devils. they have my blessing to make hostages of anyone who's proficient with i-photo/movie/youtube or the like.

oh noooo! help it's the dreaded titty terror! eeeek!

2007-09-13T14:59:00.000+03:00

bugger-it-all!
i had wanted Fart Wars to stay up for another day or so at least.
as it is so light, and funny, and stooopid. and brilliant. n stuff.

but instead, fucking arseholey fuckwittage mongering facefook.cunts have gone and done something so moronic...

that i'm going to have to post some more pictures of

BOOOOOBIES & BABIES
instead.
just to redress the balance.

so these are for you facefook.

suck

tits.

...obviously this would all be more effective if i could bombard their stupid site with booby-babies, but frankly, i never wanted to join the tossers website anyway. i've got enough to do and you can bloomin google me if you're a long lost friend who's got nothing better to do for gawds sake.

so there, with nipples on.

byeeeeeeeee :)

fart wars

2007-09-12T18:21:00.000+03:00

right then, i think it's time for some of this.........

FART WARS!!

sorry i'm laughing so loudly it's hard to hear the actual farts, but i promise they ARE real, and i had no idea they were coming. i'm not even sure he did.
though he's a boy so he probably did.

that's eric by the way. my fantastic nephew :)
enjoy.

remembrance

2007-09-11T16:26:00.000+03:00

(press play, then pause and i'd suggest listening after you've read so that it will stream properly ;)

today.

with this age, i have begun to miss people i've never even met.
i mourn their absence from the lives of others,
and the impossibility of my ever running into them and exchanging a smile, or maybe even a frown, for who can tell what might have been.
the time has passed.

but with each tear i shed for these strangers lost, with each swelling in my throat and behind my eyes, i am grateful for my distance.
grateful for the impalpability of my connection.
for having no sensual memory of touch, or smell, or taste to miss, i remain one of the lucky.
feeling so much as i do i cannot begin to comprehend the loss for those who knew.
but i can hear the whisper of infinite sadness.

and so i can only delve into their stories.
the ones that i missed.
to ensure that i feel something yet.
to ensure that i don't forget.
to ensure that the imprint of those lives will endure, with more than just those that actually held and inhaled them.

in each of our private journeys, we must remember.
my grandparents stories, my aunts, my uncles are being forgotten gradually.
and i know i should remember them all for as long as i'm able.
stories of joy and the stories of horror.
we retell them in order to learn. and to face the future in better understanding.
and through a worlds grief and remembrance, my children must learn it too.

and for as long as i am here, to show them,
we will share every story we know.
we will learn about life and about the ones now gone, and we will search out their tales.
we will celebrate the joy that each life has shown, as we cry for their loss.
and we will continue to hope that less are lost each day.

and throughout this age, and the next, we will remember,
and we will continue to miss more people, that we have never even met.
and mourn the impossibility of our ever running into them and exchanging a smile, or maybe even a frown, for who can tell what might have been.
that time has passed.

Eric

Gary

Alicia's own words
and
reflections of her grieving father

please do follow these links, to read part of the stories of three wonderful human beings who deserve to be remembered.

take care my friends. and hug those you love extra bearhuggilly today.

you can find more of last years tributes, the new ones and the list of names, at these links...
project2996 main
last years tributes

re-born squiffy.

2007-09-09T02:00:00.000+03:00

although i miss my babies terribly, (they're on holiday with their baba)
and i miss my boyfriend horribly, (he's on holiday with all his old friends and family in seattle) (and he got his bags nicked as soon as he arrived, which included his laptop and my CamerA! soB. )
and i cried a LOT yesterday because i miss them all dammit, (especially my camera)
and i suddenly get scared?? alone, after living alone most of the bloomin time for the last 20 years (it's all since STOOOoopidly watching 28 days a couple of months ago. bloody idiot.), (angry zombies that can run are fucking SCARY!! and it could happen. ggrrrrrrrr),
(sorry, all that text size-change stuff hurts my eyes too, but i'm too squiffy to sort it out now.)

,,,,,,,,being finally back in MY OWN HOME, drinking lots of wine, staying up ricockulously late, having my period and listening to all my old favourite sUPER dooper emotional boy singery music is flippin buuRilliant FUUUUN.

but it is also funny that the worst thing about being blissfully happily in LOVE, is that it always has the side effect of making us neglect our old loves like paolo and damien and iron and wine, and even the streets.
and then we (or maybe just I) go through a kind of guilty cheating thrill when we (I) get alone time to get all smoochy with them again. maybe more so as we (I) have the added thrill of not feeling like that anymore. but i still love the faint memory of 'pain' and in the knowledge that it can always come again, i strongly believe that it's always good to stay friends.
you (I) wouldn't want to be left all alone ever without boy's-to-sing-at at as back up if the world did crumble again huh.

so i am guilty of NOTHING. it's not cheating if the object of my obsession is only occasional, and doesn't know i exist and is famous. and only makes me sing. right. and i do sound good once i'm boozed up.

and it's inspirational. i now have a soundtrack, and only need to edit about 3 months real time video and photos together to go along with it.
and i will do that as soon as i've stopped singing loudly and dancing and slept and sobered up.

laundry's all done.

but cigarettes would still make it all an ELEVENTYGAZZilionGaGILLION times better. in trousers.
buggeritall.

me pissed :)
...and making eyes at i-tunes ;)

'grant my last request, and let me hold you,
don't shrug your shoulders,
lay down beside me,
sure i can accept that we're going nowhere,
but one last time lets go there,
lay down beside me.
for one last time lets go there,
lay down beside me.
lay down beside me.
OoooowooooOooooowooh'

night.

...and things.

2007-08-30T11:26:00.000+03:00

have been in blighty.

antique computer at mums wouldn't let me into my own pants.

am now inundated with dirty cotton ones.

will be back as soon as have dusted, hoovered, laundered, scrubbed, tidied and sorted.

kiss kiss.

and stuff.

2007-08-01T20:54:00.001+03:00

am alive!

am slightly goldenish around the fatblob if you squint your eyes a bit, and wear dark glasses!

as are the splashilets! and READING wordythings and writing stuff like " I woce up and I yund" and " iet spgeti bolnez"!

my disgustingly foody keyboard gave up the spacebar, and the numbers 456and +. so that made maths EVEN harder, and words and underpants and stuff for a while!

am 2 days back in pistanbul and up to spiderswebs in steveinghotseason-cleaning. have filled to brimming 6 bin bags in past 2 days and created enough space to house more junk.

have finally learnt never to buy anything from bosch. they are rubbish. and rude on the phone. and rubbish.

am too lazy to look at, edit or post pictures as take far too many.

will do soon.

promise.

hello ;~)

ooh a wiggle... how'd i do that?

hearty achey ouchness is:

2007-07-10T23:31:00.000+03:00

or (as maybe that's a little Bit strong..)

'the universe is Not cooperating.'

recent proofs of this are:

...my gorgeous little babies crying that they don't wanna go on holiday to the beach with their baba, (even though they LOVE IT there, and i'll join them when i finish work in only 5 sleeps,) because they'll miss mummy, because "but (they) LOVE (me) SOooooo much!" , and crying for A LONG TIME before sleeping, one after another and consecutively. and holding my hands EVER SO TIGHTLY until they slept, when i finally pried them free. sniffing.
did that make any sense? i'm still a little raw.

... being asked by one babishko quietly, if they can watch the little vampire film Again (for the 3rd day running), because "the Very nice boy when he's being a vampire does have a Really, Lovely, sort of, you know, Lovely, Baby face, doesn't he mummy?"
poor luke skywalker's finally lost out to a blood sucker. (oh NO! see?? she's shifted to the bad boys, like her mothers misspent youth, yikes! and she's only 5!!!)

...finally discovering that since turning 36ish, having twins and grudgingly giving up ludicrously expensive gym membership one year ago, and doing BUGGERALL since, i can no longer eat cakes, chocolate, potatoes and biscuits, with extra cheese on everything, without growing extra fat on everything quicker that i can say "Holy Fuck i'm a fat Fucking Flab Blob!" and having all my trousers attempt to garrote my middley wibbly bits.
and burping a lot.

...realising that despite being a fucking fat blob, i can't seem to stop myself eating extra cheese on chocolate cake, CANNOT remember how to stop watching shit telly and do floor exercises, and even when i do remember, cannot for the life of me seem to muster the energy to lift the fucking fat blob off the sofa. resulting in guilt feelings as well as burps and fatblobness all evening.
and i HATE CSI (all of 'em).
which all goes to prove that as my waistline disappeared it took my willpower with it (or would that be the other way around?) (or does it matter really which came first?) and the Only way to Salvation would appear to be being dumped (obviously that's always a winner as you lose your appetite and need to look fabulous to stand any bloomin chance of Ever getting Laid again) (ooh does that mean it's all my boyfriend's fault for making me complacent? can i blame him?) (Hell No! it's ALWAYS ones own responsibility... no one can make anyone do anything... and blah) (generally) (but actually... bear with me... having a boyfriend though yummy, may actually be VERY bad for ones health/waistline, i mean i know shagging burns calories 'n stuff, but frankly, i do a LOT more lying around, and cooking grown up food involving cream and butter, AND he ENABLES me, by saying he "loves me anyway", or "(he) love(s) (my) tummy", or "have some more chocolate", n stuff.) (bastard) OR litter-ally tons of free money falling from the sky that i could dash around collecting just so i could thrust it eagerly at the outfriggingrageously expensive gym bastards down the road, and beg them to take me back and let me grunt and sweat and swear and glow and snif. and complain that my $1800 per year doesn't pay for a few bloomin snot tissues in the bloody changing rooms, in their fine establishment again.
or stand up straighter, starve and suck the fatblob in at all times and Never wave at anyone Ever again.

...and it's all made worse by the fact that having small (though almost perfectly formed) teeny weeny boobies, the fatblob sticks out further than my chest. making me appear fatly pregnant when i'm NOT! and meaning that even very close friends put their hands on it and question me with excited smiles. (making me wonder if therefore having a tit job would maybe be a good idea as then i'd have room to nurture/disguise the belly fatblob over time...)(no! no to fake boobs and silicone stuff in my boobies)(and hells NOOOOOO to havinbg to wear a bra Every day)

actually.

...and i'm still flabbing SKINT.

bugger-it-all.

*

Oh AWright, ok.
i know none of that's Really Very serious, but well, frankly fuck it. my babies wis cryin. and i gotsted sadened.
and i've got to go on a beach holiday involving swimwear and the baring of fatblob soon.

but/so really, you' know... life's awright n all that.
:)
the girls are great. and lovely. and loving. we are all going on holiday (on the arsesorted cards) now or soon. i've got someone utterly macyummy, whome i macwuv, who makes it hard to leave the sofa and who shags me despite my flabblobness. And i got my hands on another naked aging pop star recently. that's always good for moral. dancing away the heartache and all that malarky.

except did i mention the amazing expanding stomach? and arm flaps and buttocks and back...
.
.
.

oooh the lovedove just put a spell on me.... apparently saying "AbraDAGABra" and kissing the fatblob is all it needs.

maybe if a write a book on that magic new diet plan i can make the kajjilions of spondoolies needed to enter the most expensive gym on the planet again...

as some years Americas Top Model said a little earlier on on 'MYMAX', "there's no testimony without a test."

or a little 'mony' in my experience.

or moany.

or testi ;)

a cautionary tale.

2007-07-04T23:17:00.000+03:00

you know, it's a well documented fact that too much sun, and sea...

especially when going Half Naked...
(in New bikinis)

with beer,
(not to mention baked potatoes, Extra Cheese, meatballs, more beer, and Beer, and fabulous new bands like beirut, and others i've currently forgotten but which will come back to me, and more beer, and ummm...oh yes, Old favourites, and sunsets and, and..)

and Much Bopping About Gleefully,
with beer,

will generally result in horizontal boyfriends on a sunday.

...but despite the predictable male Snoritude, girly glamour simply CANNOT be quenched.

and after only Minimal amounts of BabyButIt'sNotZappingMyPainQuiteEnoughYet Drugs, nutella with fresh fruit, Moaning and HarRuMPHing about,

the super Clingy, OwwMyHeadachey! female will often seek out and find Some other Cutie to kiss, and with which to share declarations of Undying Love.

so beware!
it's a slippery slope boys and snorey girls. You Have Been Warned.

*

oh but bloomin'eck how i Love festival season! specially now i's got me my easy pee matey!
yay! summers here and the livin is Easy.

if a bit sticky and laaaaaaazy ;)

enjoy thee lovelies, go get boppy, and happy and drink way to early in the day. just once, and nap :)
and enjoy the nakedness the heat forces upon ye.

ooh and hope y'all had very happy independancey day celebrations all you northern americans.
ah maybe that's the MacYanks game... fight the evil Oppressor's with MacSnores... good tactics ;)
my baby's sooooo smart!
now, i need a cuppa tea...

half baked mermaids.

2007-06-28T14:21:00.000+03:00

now check out their technique!

and how adorable they look, sleeping on a half naked mummy on the way home.

it's hot hot hot... and we're off to the pool again.
happy weekend fellow waterbabes, and landlovers.
stay cool ;)

a q to the u...

2007-06-25T17:59:00.000+03:00

while going over the alphabet today:

moi: ok, so what's this?

the fabulets: a 'U'.

moi: yup, and what does 'U' usually sound like?

the lovelet: 'YOU' are a plonker!

and all i can think as i look at them both rolling around laughing is: 'W!'

96 degreeyeeees in the shade...

2007-06-22T18:27:00.000+03:00

feeling hot, so hot in the shaaayeeeade. seriously. it was sweatsome.

but the flag went down a storm.

we were rushed off our feet with budding young artists. and a few oldies too. most of them oddly were french. but it was me who added two naked manly chests and the consul general herself added the heart and the Q. and none of it would have been possible without the ever-so-comfortable-with-his-feminine-sidekick macYank the yummy.

diversity rules the day.

it was a scream. we all got thoroughly sloshed or sugar-rushed, and came home with winnings of sweets, wine, books, dvd's and most treasured of all, some home made lemon curd. scrummy. though due to squiffiness we lost the flag somewhere en route...

anythewiser, that's enough about that...

this weeks teaser is: what was i?

and 'what was i thinking?' i mean 'singing?'

answers on a virtual postcard please ;)

sum of the parts...

2007-06-14T22:17:00.000+03:00

the answers to last weeks teaser were in fact:
a) a flamingo
b) a pogo stick
well done and commiserations to all you blind fools and better luck next time ;)

so this week as well as playing more pictionary, and making up group stories a word at a time, we've been planning a mural for this years british consulate summer fete.
i plan to drink a lot more pimms this year, and have even managed to secure a space in which to do so (so NOONE except maybe her travesties government can drag me away before i'm at least slightly squiffy)

i'ma be running a group mural project with my macyummy and helperlets. macyummy's spent the last couple of days mapping out a 1m by 3m long union jack/flag on canvas. and 48 of anyone who wants can paint or collage in (vaguely) the right colours can do so in a 25cm squared square. having a boy around makes stuff like this possible, as without him the complicated business of looking at numbers would have caused me to froth at the mouth and i'd have drawn a bulldog instead. mind you he was aided in the fact that he has it tattooed on his right forearm for easy reference. dirty cheater.
anyway he done good...

so in the end hopefully it'll look summat like this:

i'll hopefully take and post some pictures of the actually fer-real paintycollagedy piece once its done. if i don't get too squifftied up on the cucumbery goodness.

and in the meantime here's a less than half but bigger than a 1 48th piece of nakedness.
and if you're REALLY lucky maybe i'll even post you some other bits in future busy weeks so you can make your own collage ;)

happy puzzling sweetpeas.

and raise a glass for us saturday afternoon. i'll raise a few for you all!

beneath all the game playing...

2007-06-07T00:09:00.000+03:00

is the bare half-naked truth of life in the bul.
(minus the obligatory screaming obviously)

pictionary anyone?

with 5 year-olds.(get guessing dude! you've got less than a minute left already!!)

Or 'word-at-a-time'?

'The fat cat sat on somebody’s lap.
He was rather big and fat.
The pig that was unfortunately there, was a little lion.
Their psychoanalyst fixed their heads.'

(anyone fancy playing along?)

...and finally, when you've brushed your teeth properly, it's storytime before beddybyes:

"'The Moody Land was only a story Haroun,' Rashid replied. Here we're somewhere real.' When Haroun heard his father say only a story, he understood that the Shah of Blah was very depressed indeed, because only deep despair could have made him say such a terrible thing."

*

we live in a sea of stories. yet i'm buggered if i know how to tell any ;) (add embarrassed emoticon here. will get onto it soooooooon. promiseish)

happy yet another other week darlings.
head over to os for some more explicit pictionary.

and know i do love you, and you do all smell warm and inviting, i'm just a lazy/busy/ouchy/flaky/Arse. honest guv.

aaaand Goodnight.

more half necking today.

2007-05-30T18:49:00.001+03:00

kisses from the reverend rob and sunshine on my milky skin.

a splendid weekend on a car_less isle, with only the stench of horse to bring me back to earth.
MMMMMMmmmmmmm :)

romancing the discs.

new instant friends, meaningful matrimony and more beer than sleep, are, apparently, a better cure than any other prescription drug.

welcome to my new kissy belief system.

enjoy the happy flesh. it's soooooo very grateful to be unbraced and worshipped.

oooh you know you wanna... come on. join in and get necking too!!
and i just know you'll have a splendid weekend ;)

half neckid friday.

2007-05-18T22:00:00.000+03:00

well so much for me thinking i was BACK. the only thing back around here is bad back. and it's a total pain in the neck(arse).

it's getting better now. i can twist a reasonable amount again, and am on less drugs, though you'd never know it. i appear to have lost a large number of brain cells, either that or the drugs have had the accumulative effect of making me dope queen of ouchland. i'm dozey and thic k. and i have a killer headache working in a two ring motion and blah.

i don't know quite what's happening really. as i banned anyone from talking about the dreaded and totally ridiculous 'nazar' (evil eye) crap soon after the babylettes arrived in turkland it certainly can't be that.
i'm wondering if it's maybe something along the lines of holiday flu. you know, how when you finally get away and relax after working furiously you suddenly get sick as the work dog you are.
not that i've really stopped working, but much more than that, having been a single, (though assisted pretty well monetarily, by the ex) working (part-time 3-job-juggling) mum in a foreign country, i suddenly find myself, decidedly unbloominsingle, working quite easy and enjoyable jobs and being for the most part the native in our everyday life. and i'm relaxed and happy! i have someone who's i love, who's really good company, to share the responsibility with. yipeeee!!

so how do i celebrate?? well by getting a fever and buggering up my sinuses, damaging the bit of my brain that makes me balance-making me feel car sick even when i'm not in a bloody car, finding odd lumps in wobbly places, pimples all over my noggin and finally at least one herniated disc in my neck (felt too ouchy to drag myself for an x-ray and evil bum, or worse, epidural injection, as it feels exactly like it did 2 years ago when i had an MRI to confirm what they said was 5 herniated discs).

bloody ridiculous.

obviously my body has hardwired itself to be single. and now that i've found someone and started to relax it says "Nooooooooo!". it says "this is too easy!! we like the challenge, we need stress to survive! dammit woman! if you can't fuck it up with your moody snappy period shit, and your shoe obsession and cheese and beer/biscuit-belly building, then we'll do it for you! we'll repulse him, and bore him back to seattle as quick as you can say: "ouch..bugger...OUCH...i can't even pull down my own pants down to pee........". so... NAH NAH NA-NA NAH!!! you're pimply, and faa-at, you got yellow sno-ot, and you're o-old. you're pimply, and grouchy, you got zii-its, and you're BORING!

i hate my body.*

so thank ether for brilliantlets. and macbrilliant.

for the real joy beside my tears ;)

*apart from a few 'sensual' bits who still rage against the machine. they are loyal subjects, and will be even better rewarded once we regain control of the whole...including my hands, and my taste buds. minds out of the gussets now please!

some joy inside my tears

2007-05-07T01:50:00.000+03:00

i realise you are way too cool for school 'n shit, but.... ignore shirt, and ignore bad hair, and ignore his 'christianity', and enjoy one of the most beautiful and important songs ever written, and the best voice to sing of it.

i dare you. to listen pwease.

i do, every time i drink a teensy weensy bit to much, and then i dance, and i consider it a tonic. stevie keeps me focused. and loving.

happy new week sweetpeeps. i don't wanna bore you buuuuuuut..... (i love you, i love you, i love you. etc and... )

i like being blissfully happy, but not everyone everywhere is so happy.. (and you know, it doesn't always last) ...so send yours in right away.
mwuah!
and i wanted to link in the text to at least 3 other songs but, well, you know, i was a bit too wasted and happy dancing to find then 'n fish, so i didn't, but here's what you need to search for when you fall in love as i did aged wee: love's in need, masterblaster, history (joy inside my tears), blame it on the sun, all in love is fair, i believe, superstition, etc etc.

my manor

2007-05-03T18:29:00.000+03:00

on reflection i can see....

we all build shanty towns in our lives.
with old placards, stakes and roofing. things once used to stop rain, or advertise our wares. we pile them and balance them upon one another, to stop the winds or sand-storms and to shelter us from prying eyes.

but though we build our walls, someone will always see (or hoist themselves) over them.

and with all those that do, we can huddle together and share. and we can spread our bounty wide, and we can nourish ourselves and one another with our gifts.

eat drink and be merry friends. for though we are very happy here in our gang, there's still room on the beach for more.

happy hnt my lovelies. tear down the walls on my sidebar to find more nakedness.

and here's to finding sand in your pockets for weeks to come. :)

flora, fauna and merriweather.

2007-04-26T15:27:00.000+03:00

i slipped away for a while.

away from the glare of the computers screen and the bright light bouncing in from the terrace.

i retreated back into my cave. back to my cool mossy depths.

i wore new lingerie fresh from the post, and let romance wash into domestic bliss.

i ate too much and drank a lot, and laughed, and played, and shagged.

and i contemplated life as a part of a twosome. or a foursome counting the lets.

i freaked out a little and then relaxed a lot. and watched an awful lot of telly.

i took some time away and now i'm at ease. and once again ready to let the light shine, softly from different angles.

happy half nekkidness darlings.

slip on over to the sidebar for more, and have a lovely weekend full of sunshine and shimmers.

mwuah!

my dead grandmother accidentaly ran over my iguana.

2007-04-24T19:12:00.000+03:00

i'm sorry!!!! (for anyone who actually gives a flying fig)

i have all kinds of excuses. some brilliant, some slightly naff. all true. nearly.

but as i'm so totally busy snuggling and watching firefly dvd's and eating chocolate and am out of practice writing and stuff i'm going to post this filler post to help me get back into it with no writing pressure 'n shit.

so here are some pictures of what's been keeping me busy. pensive hoola-cat-girls, killer rabbits, cross dressing pirates and quicksand and the like really do play havock with ones underpants.

i've just about managed to wrench myself free... for a while. i'll visit you all soonish. i promise. thank you for being nice to my balding, hairy and slightly sad arse boyfriend. (as if i'd ever hold off physical affection as punishment... i'm more likely to insist on more. "service me scumbag!!").

until thursday my lovelies. i will be back soon! it is good to be back and to see you all again.

le sigh.

HNT: Seraph By Proxy

2007-04-19T01:57:00.000+03:00

When an angel falls, it’s not from grace
It’s not so crude or commonplace
When an angel falls, I think, instead
She’s simply falling into bed

MacYums here.

Keda's in bed, fervently being ravished by the sandman at the moment; thus, she's tasked me with fulfilling your unquenchable thirst for nekkid brilliance.

Enjoy.

She wishes for me to say that she loves you all, she's indubitably not axe-murdered and she'll be back on track with that whole words and writing and aversion-to-spell-check-and-shift-key thing very soon...once she realizes that her boyfriend's lackadaisy in terms of undapants posting is communicable and decides to inoculate herself by getting off her sweet, sweet ass and publishing her own shit, tout de suite.

If I were Keda, I'd now tell you to look to the sidebar on your right and figure out what HNT is all about (if you've no idea.)

If I were Keda, I'd also have written that last sentence as follows:

if i wers keow id' now te ll ouko ij a io iiq i34 98 ubk 8j 'aeuyiysv HNT is alro asodk nsadkflksado (plbbbbbbbbbbtttttttttttttttttttt!!!!!!).

(FUCK...I'm not getting laid for the next 30 years. But it was so freaking worth it.)

smooches where it's naughty...

r

fin...

infinity.... in trousers.

2007-04-07T13:32:00.000+03:00

a couple of nights ago, the true loves of my life and i snuggled up together to watch a bit of telly before bed. in such a familiar and comfortable way, one lovelylet either side of me, my arms wrapped around behind them both, i squeezed them gently and sighed.

"mummy," says one, "i love you more than i love myself."

ggnnnhhh

"actually i do too! mummy... i love you more than i love myself too."

i want to shout to them.. "love yourselves more babies. always love yourself more than anything else! you are the most precious. i can take care of myself. you have to love yourself more!"

but when i do say it gently they reply "but why? i do love you more than i love myself mummy. do you love you more than you love us?"

and the true answer is always "NO! i do love myself, but i will always love you more." and how could it be any different?

"....when you are a mummy you will love your babies more than yourself. but until that day love yourselves most dear ones. i'll always be happy to be a close 2nd or third!..."

these two incredible gifts became five yesterday. friday april 6th 2007. or rather at 2am in the morning, and in those 5 years and 40weeks since they have been in my life, they have taught me to love myself too.

these two beautiful, funny, compassionate, cheeky, individual, yet wonderfully close little angels, have made me stronger than i could have ever dreamed.
they have shown me that i am good enough. that i can do what needs to be done. that i can love unconditionally. that i can make myself and other people happy. that i can look after myself. and others. that i can juggle jobs, and children and home. that i can live without a man as well as i can live with one. that i can get along reasonably well most of the time with my ex husband. that i can learn new things, and am brave enough to keep moving. that i can still have fun, without money, without a partner, without enough time. and that i can still meet new wonderful people.
and they have shown me that life keeps on around me and that i can either sit and watch it go by or i can grab a hold of it and enjoy something in every day. as children have that incredible ability to do.

they have taught me much in such a short time. as much as i have taught them, without a doubt.

and as much as i love myself, i will ALWAYS love them more. i will take very good care of myself, i will do what i need to do for me, so that i can continue to be a happy mummy. because happy mummies find raising happy children easier i think. but my love for them will exceed all else, for as long as i live.
and though now it's so very beautiful to hear how much they love me, as they grow, and one day soon, learn that i am right, and that they must, and do, love themselves more (until of course they become mummies themselves), i shall be proud to know that...

until the planet with the rings on it.
until as far as oban star racers.
until the end of all the planets and stars.
up to the moon and past the back spaces
until 230 and 56 and 32 and infinity the highest number.
in trousers...
i will love them more.

and can i just say....

2007-04-02T23:26:00.000+03:00

sistine chapel. egg tempera.
(i know i'ts old news but i've got a bee in my bonnet again.)

it'll be a shame to see it go. i hope they give us ample warning before they tear it down. which the catholic church is really going to have to do now it's allowed bill shitface donthavaclhue to be their spokestwat. or look like total hypocrites.
oh woops. sorry silly me. dumdeedum dee dum.

i would love to see it before it's totally discredited for being edible and showing rude nudie bits and stuff.

i'm still pissed off about missing all those buddhist artworks/pieces of filth that the taliban destroyed. it will be a pity to miss these old renaissance artworks/pieces of filth too to the other sides henchcunts.

on the other hand it'll do wonders for italy's tourism in the coming... how long do you reckon we've got?
umm, right. easyjet.com, thy, mumbles and googles cheap flights...

next post will be friendly and family orientated i promise.

it's the modernartlets birthday's on friday and my virtual boyfriend will become 3d tomorrow.
so things are definitely looking more chocolatey flavoured by the second :)

lubricate arse insert blogspot

2007-04-01T09:12:00.000+03:00

i know that's rather rude, and i do sort of apologise ;)

but it's not my fault hardly AT ALL. someone from iran used that exact sentence to do a google search and found me a couple of days ago. poor bugger was obviously finding it hard to find what he was looking for too... as i was only on the 4th page.
(i was quite pleased he spelt the word arse correctly rather than the other 'ass' thing. that's something.)

i've been feeling a bit like lubricating my arse and inserting my blogspot recently so i do sympathise on one level. but not knowing quite which level they were coming from i may be misguided.

mine was more from an... um... 'am fed up with whining about minor health stuff but have nothing else about which to write/ have lots about which to write but no inspiration/ bugger it this bloody seat's really fucking uncomfortable/ i'm stuck/ should be writing that bloomin article but can't be bothered but now feel quilty writing anything else so i'll go eat something with cheese instead/ want to write something quite heartfelt but it might upset people. but... ' kind of way.

one friend suggested maybe the seeker just really hated blogger. but i think blogger wouldn't really care unless it hurt them. and with all that lubrication i sincerely doubt they'll feel a thing.

i just think iran's searcher is sexually repressed. i mean living in iran frankly it's law to be sexually repressed. he/she needs an outlet and hopes that we kind 'bloggy' people will help him/her.
just like the person from suadi arabia who found me whilst searching for 'women having sex with gorillas', or the ones from kuwait and tunisia looking for 'vibratores' (that's actually a very popular search and i take full responsibility as i actually talked about, and named a post after that.), or the pakistani looking for 'my big twat.com' or the ones from the uae and egypt, and texas and virginia (don't blame me for the locations- they pop up from sex based google queries ALL the time), who's exact searches i can't quite remember off-hand.

and you know what? we can actually help them.
-maybe not quite in the quick fix kind of way they were actually hoping for- i'll leave that to the sex bloggers and web cam people. they do a fabulous job already-
but i will continue to talk about and bring attention to the hypocrisy and dangerousness of sexual repression everywhere.

i mean just the fact that none of my weird pervy searchers ever come from europe, but always from strict religious countries and the american bible belt is proof enough for me that if people don't have the freedom to have normal healthy sexual education and relationships with themselves or others, or have nonsexual exposure to the human body in all its forms then they start craving much more peculiar and unhealthy ones.

that's why i think this lunatic, and the 48% of ManySubNormalBrainedCreitinous readers who voted and agree to finding this beautiful sculpture offensive too, are obviously extremely dangerous in the grand scheme of things.
i mean jesus, like other blokes in general was apparently created in god own image right? (meaning god has a willy?) well, even if being the supreme being and all he didn't have one, he did make jesus (according to this guy and many perfectly nice people like my mum and others who read me regularly.) and jesus was apparently blooming PERFECT. so why should his willy (which also apparently was never used for sexual purposes, and only for totally innocent weeing.. jesus did wee didn't he?) be anything to be ashamed of or offended by??

why should any willy be seen as offensive? especially if it's not even being seen in a sexual context. i just do not get it.
baby boys have willies. we don't find them offensive. we (or i at least and a few of my friends) find them SOOOPER CUTE. so why should a willy on a sculpture be any different?

it's like people being offended by boobs. it's just silly.

especially when they are being used to provide food.

and when we see them sexualised on tv, in advertisements and magazines every bloomin day with nobody really getting up-in-arms at all.

which is why incidentaly, i am Absolutely doing a public service by refusing to wear a bikini top whilst on the beach. when it's hot and i see blokes walking about topless it makes me very angry that i am expected to wear a top. for no reason other than other peoples embarrassment and sexual hangups. i don't take my top of because i want everyone to see my boobies, any More than joe hairy-fat-moobs does. he takes his t-shirt off because he's hot and thinks 'stuff this'. and so do i.
but i will not take off my top just yet in the middle of the street. i will stay hot in respect of these poor misguided fools, and work gradually to bring about equality. shock therapy's a little extreme even for me. but the beach and the pool are a good place to start.)

trying to hide the innocent human body from view is stupid.

stupid stupid stupid.

and dangerous.

whether or not you like the sculpture of the sweet jesus, it has a right to exist and be shown. and is a lot better than having a mutilated or covered-up de-sexualised version.
i think it's bloody brilliant personally. and a great comment on how this 'christian' event has been taken over by the chocolate industry. his willy should never have been an issue .
though i'm not a christian, jesus was Very cool. and i am a fan of chocolate.

but the really important thing is, had i seen that sculpture without all the stupid brainless furor i would have thought it was a beautiful and powerful comment on how our most basic treasured beliefs and feelings can me forgotten behind our consumerism... i would never have even noticed the peepee.

and i would NEVER EVER in a BILLION squAJILLION years have thought of licking jesus' chocolate balls.

but because of mr pissyprick sexualising it and making the genitals such an issue, now i can't get them out of my mind!!!

fanatical repressive lunatics make people into evil perverts. it's official. i know. it's happened to me.

sulk.

i'm sorry.
i should totally probably have done the insertion while i had the chance.
i'm going to miss you guys i've just offended.
but remember it's totally that rabid religious runts fault.

Handicapped shNozzle Thursday

2007-03-29T14:40:00.000+03:00

scent pays our rent.

patchouli, petitgrain, bergamot and rose follow me everywhere i go. gently masking that which comes from within, complimenting me.

frankincense, and myrrh slow the breathing and calm the choking of mere mortals daily here. lavender and rose, melissa and rosemary nudge them softly back to life.

jasmine and sandalwood ease weary souls, and ginger and black pepper warm and comfort their aching hosts.

instead of coffee or fresh baked bread, this humble home fills senses with citrus and fragrant leaves. fig perfume, and home made potions. freshly washed towels.

we grow rose geraniums and say aloe to vera, and greeting her gaily as we pass, apologise for breaking off her arms.

windows are thrown open, to the air, the earth, the trees, the light.
we breathe deep around here. and touch one another.

yet just recently we've been hiding a deep dark secret.
something ugly and rancid. evil and foul. something hideous and hard to bear.

a stench that only i can sense.
a Phantosmia that almost drove me mad. making me apologise to everyone who entered for something which was not really there.
except in my head.
within and not, as i believed, without.

my nose has been playing tricks on me. my sense, has gone and lost it's mind.
and it will take at least 6 different kinds of ludicrously expensive drugs to repair.
if i'm lucky. apparently.

i smell a rat. decomposing. and teenage boys feet. i smell vomit and dead cat.

it's probably my own fault that it's got so bad. why would i choose to believe my lovely home stank rank for so long despite rigorous cleaning and oil diffusers and incense, the burning of herbs and our most wonderous smelling plants?

i should have seen a doctor earlier. or as i'm beginning to suspect at least practiced some reiki on myself. instead of snorting and scrunching up my nose at my noses disobedience i should have held it lovingly. i should have drunk even more water than i do already. i should have channeled positive energy to my sickly sinuses and focused on them with Love.

i'll start tonight. after i've cleaned it with saline and then done the nasty spray thingy, and then the peculiar iodine coloured concoction the chemist had to mix up for me, that i'm supposed to drop three drops of into my nostrils 3 times a day (i've still to master the fine art of that) and taken the 3 different pills.

yes. Love, channeling through the inner tubes in my noggin. Love to the little cilia. Love and Light and Air. i'll make Love to my nose. with positive thought and energy and LOVE.

and no more sniffling and sniveling and blaming the cats, or the cleaner, or the rotten floorboards, or those sneaky bath dodging adolescent boys who i suspect break in at night to hide their old shoes in my cupboards.

and with faith and LOVE and Drugs i'll stop the hurt, and smelling arse and teenage boys trainer feet...

and smell the roses once more.

if i'm lucky.

apparently.

for more arousing anatomy and aromas go see osbasso or the half-nekkid button on the sidebar.

and have a lovely, thoroughly unstinky, weekend all, :)

H.N.tishooooooooooooo!

2007-03-22T00:01:00.000+02:00

loveday and yashi,
had wheezles
and sneezles,
they bundled them
Into
their beds.
They gave them what goes
with a cold in the nose,
and some more for a cold
in the head.
they wondered
if wheezles
could turn
into measles,
if sneezles
would turn
into mumps;
they examined their chests
for a rash,
and the rest
of their bodies for swellings and lumps.
they sent for some doctors
in sneezles
and wheezles
to tell them what ought
to be done.
all sorts and conditions
of famous physicians
came hurrying round
at a run.
they all made a note
of the state of their throats,
they asked if they suffered from thirst.
they asked if the sneezles
came after the wheezles,
or if the first sneezle
came first.
they said, "If you teazle
a sneezle
or wheezle,
a measle
may easily grow.
but humour or pleazle
the wheezle
or sneezle,
the measle
will certainly go."
they expounded the reazles
for sneezles
and wheezles,
the manner of measles
when new.
they said "If they freezles
In draughts and in breezles,
Then PHTHEEZLES
May even ensue."

yashi and loveday
got up in the morning,
the sneezles had vanished away.
and the look in their eyes
seemed to say to the sky,
"Now, how to amuse them to-day?"

(puking A Lot came was how they did it, though it's harder to make that cute'n funny haha. oh and i know i sound like poo. that's why i've translated above.)
by A.A. Milne (and christopher robin)

so in the last 2 weeks we've gone from this...

to this...

to this...

and finally this...

or at least they have.
i'm sticking with a 'No Comment' for myself for now. but i will add that i'm back at work and reading books on the balcony so i'm perfectly acceptable really in the grand scheme of springs.

i hope you are all breathing easily without a kidney shaped spitoon in sight.

now i'm off to stick my head Very close to some 'Steve-ing Hot water'.
and i'm sorry i'm not even remotely starkers, but believe me, the state i look at the mo you should be feeling Mightily Relieved ;)

happy fursday babes. i hope you're all sneezeLess and superb.

ooh yes and off to the sidebar with you and the button thingy, if you fancy a brighter pound of flesh ;)

ugh

2007-03-17T11:32:00.000+02:00

we've all been sick twice in a row culminating in a let-on-a-drip scene at a local hospital last night.

the serum did it's magic though and now the sicklilet in question has morphed into a bouncy artlet once again. so don't worry.

i can't write though as the pukelets are also now demandinglets as they've got used to my full lying on the sofa groaning attention and are not eager for me to become normal again anytime soon.

will tell you all the grizzly details when the light in here stops hurting my eyes and the buggerlets stop asking me to stick and cut stuff.

meanwhile you could be fabulous, and have a giggle by going here and buying this for people even more in need than us.

re-educating galina, and meatballs.

2007-03-11T12:53:00.000+02:00

yesterday we had a fabulous day.

an old friend picked us up in her GINORMOUS american hulkwagon and took us to ikea. she has 3 children.. one of whom is in my class at my new job (he is cutie patootie, and i hope one day to have an E.E or a Jedi just like him), another is also a girly the lets age, who often played with them when they were all still peeing in nappies. the third is very cute but still titchy tetchy so luckily he stayed at home with their lovely helper.

hulkwagon has tv in the back for the are-we-there-yet'ers. meaning that my friend and i could discuss all the intricacies of male circumcision in relative peace, and has enough room between the seats to fit oslo and 6 people in winter coats. which was just what was needed today.

it may not sound very exciting to you, but ikea may well be the best day out istanbul currently has to offer. and that's really not as bad as it sounds. but... most importantly it has lead to the re-educating of an (i wish) singularly pathetic female who recently uttered the ridiculous words "we need men to change lightbulbs", into a woman who can now say "i know how to screw"

yipee!

For starters, as soon as we enter everyone gets given free measuring tapes and mini pencils. and you know how we like free stuff.

then we get to chuck all our woolly layers in a trolley and ride it around the display areas. very fast. and in the opposite direction to everyone else. :) There’s usually something cheap that’ll keep them happy for a while in the kids toys/furnishings bit. This time we got a bumper box of chalks so that we can do pavement drawings by the bosphorous at a later date. the buggerlets then hid in all the little tents and slid down the mini slide, there were strange people doing face paints and balloon modeling, and then we got to get our muddy footsies all over the 'show' rooms. ace. (btw, i didn't take any pics inside as i was obviously rather busy)

and then it was time for... oh my god.. pink fish (salmon) and trees (broccoli) and stodgy meatballs (mine, all mine.) and cake and tea and fruit juice and my oh my it's virtually bloody FREE. and all the wastage doesn't seem so important suddenly.

After a quick wee in the kiddie sized loo, followed by a dip in the ballpool, came the filling our trolley bit. that glorious retail therapy. a bit tiring for the wee ones, but its mummy gold, and as there’s a hotdog and ice cream stand just the other side of the checkout which charges 50kurus (about 35c or 18p) for a cone, it was fairly easy to keep them focused. but really.. it's all about the flat-packs. thank gaia we've got room in our house for another wooden chair, and a macyummy coming soon who'll need the bumspace.

so we bought: a flat packed wooden dining chair (for macyummy), a flat packed open cupboard and sliding plastic boxes (for all our learning-the-lets-to-read stuff), a reading-stories-at-bedtime-chair (for mummy), a gorgeous cushion (for the fatcats probably, though i'll fight dirty with them for it), two stools/tables (for general gorgeopusness and stackability), chalks (for the beeverlets ), assorted replacement glasses, hangers and curtains 'n stuff (for all and sundry).

and it all shqueeeezed in between the stickylets in the hulkmobile perfectly.

now i know that anyone who's even bothered to read this far is now thinking "bloomin 'eck, do i really give a flying fig?" but frankly, ....hmmm cheers, how you doin?. i write this for my own amusement as you know. and i know that i am actually about to, rather soon indeed actually reveal, how my moldovian helper learned to screw. finally.

if you managed to read last weeks ridiculous rantings you may remember that while i was sick i got annoyed that even though i could hardly drag my sorry arse out to the loo, i was expected to climb up precarious stools and change a lightbulb even though i pay someone else to help me do rubbish like this. because when i asked my helper to do it and then showed her how, she still screwed it the wrong way, breaking the attachment, and making me have to then dig under the kitchen sink to find a new attachment, and then change the bloody thing myself. her excuse was "i had a father and 2 brothers. why should i need to do these kinds of things?"

so when we arrived home today and the eagerlets and i started to pull the packaging off our new and brilliantly sparkly-in-spirit wooden stuff, she said in horror "shouldn't we wait till ***** comes? because We can't do this. we Need a Man"
to which i said rather a lot of words.. not all of them in the dictionary. and many capable of getting one's underpants banned in pakistan.

i then swiftly proceeded to build the cupboard..... (btw, i didn't take any pictures of the action because frankly i was busy, and i'm a plank)

...with lots of banging and screwing assistance from the handylets. halfway through i suggested that she make the (piss easy) chair, and told her that the fabulets would help. and she only went and did it!!

and with ease. and now miss moldovia is feeling rather proud of herself. and that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside :)

Plus the weenielets made the box that the chair came in into a dolls house, once it had been suitable painted and wallpapered, they were obviously inspired by all the showrooms :) Yay! constructive, educational and creative! (and as you can see above, one of the stools is already a dolly throne and the cushion is supporting a poor feverish yashoshkosh, so it was all money well spent)

Excessive food and drink for 3: 17ytl. (£6.20)
Chair: 25ytl. (£9.20)
The look of satisfaction on all the apprentice-carpenterlets faces while they hammer in wooden pins: Priceless! (which translates roughly to the cost of a 2 bed flat in central london)

Permalink: this is a fabulous idea. go visit :)

phewTube :)

2007-03-09T20:15:00.001+02:00

well i'm so glad that little storm in a teacup is over. turkey saw sense and...

normal obsessive viewing of macscrummy-the-younger has been resumed.

in full force ;) (how could one not get weak at the heads-shoulders-knees-and-toes over someone who sounds like melty chocolate?).

oh and the lets missed their kiwi.

so we are HAPPY again. you know there's nothing like absence to make the heart grow fonder.
and after a busy day visiting turkeys football federation trying to find girls football and succeeding, we are feeling rather pleased with the world in general.

which reminds me... there's some thierry over there 'n all.
oh joy! le sigh.

we do so love YouTube and macyummies:) (and frogs in red)

Hopeless Nutjob Turksday

2007-03-08T07:09:00.000+02:00

right. well. don't blame me...

i would have posted a highly raunchy, artistic and inspirational film for your viewing pleasure today.

but you tubes been banned 'n shit, so you'll have to make do with me earlier, and a banana heart.

oh all right. here's a little bonus to make up for the obvious distress the lack of raunch will be causing right about ...

.....ummm......... (did you know that 'um' means vaJ.J. in turkish? if i said 'ataturk didn't care much for vaJ.J.' do you think this'd get banned 'n all?)......

......now.

that didn't help?

oh well. maybe next week ;)

happy thursday 'n all, all. see sidebar for something with a little more sizzle.

oh and my 1's of concerned turkland friends.... if you are annoyed that previous films of the wonderlets and paolo the dishy aren't working you can see them by going here : http://vil.mobi/ and agreeing. though i doubt it'll be down for long. this ban being completely pointless and, oh bugger. what do i know?

byyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

p.s. this post contains one tiny little almost insignificant wee lie. can you find it? :)

Ataturkey YouBoob.

2007-03-07T13:48:00.000+02:00

(there's a friday edit below)

well bugger me backwards again, why dont ya?!

there i go, feeling slightly less achey and growly, and all ready to watch a weee bit of my bit on the side paolo...

and turkey's only gone and banned it!

well not yummy mr nutini himself, or the drooling over of, but YouTube!

this is all i see when i call up youtube.com:

Access to www.youtube.com site has been suspended in accordance with decision no: 2007/384 dated 06.03.2007 of Istanbul First Criminal Peace Court.

'pparently according to my mate at reuters "A Turkish court banned Google Inc.'s
YouTube because it showed a video ``insulting'' the country's
founder, Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the Vatan newspaper reported.
The video-sharing Web site will be shut down in Turkey after
judges ruled in favor of an Istanbul prosecutor's petition
against YouTube for showing images of Ataturk and a Turkish flag
that included obscenities in English, Vatan said. It is against
Turkish law to ``insult'' Ataturk.
Unidentified officials at Turk Telekomunikasyon AS, the
fixed-line phone monopoly that runs the national Internet
infrastructure, told Vatan that access to YouTube will be blocked
as soon as they receive legal notice. The state owns 45 percent
of Turk Telekom.
The Turkish Justice Ministry has appealed to the U.S.
Justice Department for help in tracking down the person
responsible for the video, the newspaper also said. California-
based YouTube also featured a video alleging Ataturk was a
homosexual, Vatan said. That video has been removed."

can i just say 'what a load of Arsing-Buggery-Fart-Stinky-Bollocksing-Pants!'
and 'Tossers.'

now i'm going have to use my imagination, and sing it myself.... (sympathy for the neighbours needed.)
and i can't watch any of my own videos, or put any new ones up. Fuckwits.
as my source from reuters said: (off the record) "doesn't china pull shit like this?"
in answer to my question of how long they think it will be down for they said "till its either humiliated into allowing it again or its overturned or never"
at which point i swore, almost fainted and had a relapse. i want drugs again.

i'm going back to bed.

if only they could get stuff to work here as quickly as they could get stuff shut down, life would smell a damn sight better, and we could wear nice shoes, out.

Grrrrfrnnicketypooingbollocksyataturk'shairyarsecrappyfnicktygrrumbleblllllfart.

edit (friday): in all fairness... we are perfectly entitled to slag off the president or prime minister here in turkland too. insulting the turkish government is common practice here.. as often as possible. as it is in the US or the UK.

it's when you talk about the 'great founder' atababe, or insult "turkishness" or the 'alleged' genocide during the great time of genocides, that they get all wobbly.

so, although it's still bloody ludicrous and wouldn't happen where 'you' live, it makes more sense to compare the stupid courts crappy decision to yanks insulting the american 'founding fathers' or brits, ummm i dunno, EGBERT (king: 827 -839), and frankly with a name like that egberty deserves all the scorn he gets. he was almost certainly a fag.
just sayin :)
anyway, it's back on again now.. so i'm busy catching up on the raunchiness i've missed these past 2 longgggggg days.

fever and foulsobdess. and laundry

2007-03-05T21:56:00.001+02:00

i'b sick egedd. but dis tibe wib a sweaty high fevber ad lot of ouchy pain. and i'b takend lubday wib be. poor fig
so we're lyig id a ndest id du funt voom.

we spet bost o du day id by darkend bedvoom. but dow be are bawed so ventured out to du telly. it's bind goig od for 4 days dow ad fwankwy i'b sick ob it.
we fidaly sent yashosh to du babas. coz she was clibig du wawlls. poor fig.

as you pwobabwy can't understad be adyway, ad you don't wreally want to be hearig about how adoyed i'b gettig by stuff like by 26 year old hewper dot dowig how to change a lightbulb (coz dere were two ben in her house apparently... is dat a valid excuse? if so please shoot be.), or dat by compfort packet of biscuits dat i just tried to open had dot just one dlayer of huban pwoof packagig, but TWO!!!! so dow by hands and teef hurt too, and it bade be cwy!... i'wll just say dis:

du lubbylets did sub fabulicious drwigs du other day. so go see dat instead. it buch bore joyous.

lets do laundry

go od take a look. it's dice over dere.

happy dew week ad germ fiwled kisses to awd and sundwy.

skullosawrus

2007-03-01T07:52:00.000+02:00

we know how to deal with lurkers on the stair.

knock if you dare...

but we can see's you

so beware!

actually you are all very welcome ;)
but if you want to see more inviting forms go take a peep though the half-nekkid keyhole.

and have a lovely thursday one and all.

...more tea vicar?

2007-02-24T13:39:00.000+02:00

i'm in a foul mood.

there's no real reason for this foul mood. other than vast amounts of yellow snot and it being my monthly foul mood week.
and that right at this moment, my house is cold, my kids are out with their dad, and i miss my virtual macyummy. and i can't think of anything to write here. but can't stand looking at my feet for another day.
and i still miss smoking when i'm in a foul mood. which makes me miss smoking even more. putting me in an even worse mood.

dammit.

and i'm too stingy to turn on the heating when the lets aren't home. it sucks being a celt.

so what do you do when you are in a foul mood, avoiding doing stuff that needs doing, are not allowed to smoke, are in love with someone who's thousands of miles away and sleeping, and you are bloody freezing cold?
(and your favourite vibrator is still broken...)

well yeah i do that first a couple of times and then...

I drink way too much tea with milk, wear two pairs of legwarmers, and trawl through the brilliantly preserved evidence of how i fell in love and more importantly MADE SOMEONE ELSE FALL IN LOVE WITH ME, on gmail.

it's genius.

obviously i can't show you much of it. what with it being very personal and occasionally rude, and incriminating. and frankly, hideously embarrassing. but it is bloody funny.

and accidentally a brilliant way of making me feel a bit better. well keeping me busy without actually doing anything productive or smoking at least.

for one thing it shows me that you can have even worse days that are almost the COMPLETE polar opposite of this crap day.

for example:

"keda richens
to Rob show details
19/06/06
yashi just stepped on a barely opened carton of chocolate milk squirting it a metre and a half all over the carpet and onto the sofa (all white).

the good news? we have no water at present. it gurgled away about an hour ago.

the better news?? but of course not before my washing machine decided to flood the floor from underneath this morning. they wont send someone till tomorow so my bathroom floor is covered in sopping wet towels, under and over the vinyl which is ruined. the rest of the towels are inside it.

i could ring them out i guess and use the water from them to attempt to clean the carpet and sofa. they would however be rather sudsy no doubt. though the best news of all is that i feel rather weak and fluey/unwell myself, and the effort that would involve is way beyond my powers right now.

so as far as housework's concerned chance would be a fine thing. but given the mood i'm now in, i am all for letting it go. let mother nature deal with it. i've had enough. ya hear me? ENUFF.

so we went out this afternoon to give back the deelibopper butterfly antenae which the school demanded back (on the phone whilst i was covring the bathroom with towels). (edit: they were part of their costume from their school show. ) it was a nice walk athough yashi and i were both feeling rather pathetic.

on the way home we stopped at the local organic fruit shop to buy some oranges and strawberries. i pay in bulk every few weeks and i've been avoiding this fruit shop for a while and going to the market whenever possible as the last bill, a few weeks ago, came to 500ytl (about $300). i asked to pay my debt again as i didn't want it it to mount up again, and the fuckwits presented me with a bill dating back to january! JANUARY!! for 580ytl. they havent been knocking off any of my bloody payments. so i've probably paid 2 or 3 times for it all. i now have to go back over all my credit card bills for the last 6 months to prove i've paid! cunts. don't they realise i'm busy, skint and HATE numbers?
hell.

and it's 32/89 degrees outside! and feels similar inside. i need air con. these fans do shit.

i need a real boyfriend who'll hug me and hand me a beer. and maybe even have a gander at the bathroom. but as i'm not lucky enough for that....

i'll THAnk the ether i have a gorgeous virtual one who i can write it all out to in silence, who i know won't get annoyed by my annoyance, and who will send me kisses and love and comfort from afar. thank the ether for that. :)

good morning darling heart. thank you for being in my life. however far away.

here's hoping your day is pleasanter!
k*

xxx"

so that made me feel like at least this day isn't that one. and we are all clean. and stuff. and once i dreamed of cooler air. and stuff.

but then the virtual boyfriend is still virtually bloomin virtual. so i make another cup of tea, grab another chocolate brownie, take the nicorette gum out and start to sulk again

until i find this.. which i sent to my gaga sisterhood the morning after the massive booze and ice-cream meet-up where they got the lowdown about my insane "fly to a foreign country to meet up with potential axemurderingtoiletrollstacker man who i fell for over the stalkernet" trip.

"keda richens
to pelin, ayla, zeynep, Deniz, Sebnem, yesim
show details
06/10/06

rob just reminded me of an event during our trip which i really should not have forgotten!

on the 3rd morning we took a cab to a lovely greasy spoon, beth's cafe for breakfast. as we left the taxi the driver leant back and said something to rob. i leant in and he repeated himself for me.. (rob wrote it exactly as the cabbie said it... he had slightly dodgy english)

- Hide quoted text -
---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Rob Macyummy
Date: 06-Oct-2006 13:26
Subject: Cabbie...
To: keda richens

"I've seen a lot of handsome couples...handsome men with beautiful women. And I see in the two of yours eyes: You're going to be together forever. I see a lot of good looking people together but they don't stay. You two will stay forever.""

and that kinda helps with that. you know... makes it all worthwhile 'n shit.

that is of course if you think that sweet little african cabbies have 'the eye' and stuff. which really i'm a bit 'meh' about in general.

but today i'ma grab hold of it and become a believer. and i'm gonna keep reading through more recent ones until i get to the raunch and can go lie down again... ;)

lazy saturday afternoons i got no time for worry.....

and ooh look at that! i wrote a post without even thinking. not a very good one but at least you can't see my feet anymore and i didn't have to do anything but talk to myself.

life is good.

ish.

oh bollocks. i'd kill for a fag.
is 9 cups of tea unreasonable before 4pm?

here we go lou be lou...

2007-02-22T00:16:00.000+02:00

Bright red soled black shoes,
I love these loubou’s
Though I may have to sacrifice a toe.
Time and hormones,
Have spread my footbones,
Causing old ‘gypsy’ feet to outflow.

But these crippled tootsies,
Can still play footsie,
Be it less under the table than above.
And though standing’s a pain,
And walking’s insane
They still fill my heart up with love.

The littlets covet,
And the loubou’s love it,
They tickle and touch them, it’s sweet
But if they think I’ll give them up,
They are dumb out of luck...

And they’ll just have to lick my fat feet!

no children or animals were harmed in this production.
(only phalanges)

happy thursday darlings. i hope your footwear is kinder to you today :) though i dares it to be as yummilicious.

sorry i'm a week late. have a good weekend babes, and hobble on over to the sidebar for more fleshiness.

hog 'o phonics (level 2)

2007-02-17T18:43:00.000+02:00

now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surfaces of the deep, and the spirit of hog was hovering over the waters...

2007-02-13T23:59:00.000+02:00

it's my underpantsaversary today.

1 whole year of sitting on my arse on this hideous(ly), uncomfortable chair, staring at the screen of a my macrap reading and writing a load of pants.

i didn't think i'd do anything to mark the occasion. i had no plans and i'm too busy to put much thought into it now. but after chatting to one of my 3d friends today on gmail, i suddenly realised how important this whole thing has been to my life this year. and i felt tears sting the back of my eyes.

apart from the obligatory angst ridden rubbish that i scrawled in some notebooks during my art school years, and a kind of journal for the hoglets that i wrote them during my pregnancy and their first year, i'd written nothing since school.
i had no idea that i even could, having never been any good at keeping diaries. but one year ago today, i was bored. and thought "what the hell?"

it was the time for me i guess. in hindsight i can see that i was probably bored a lot back then. and though i didn't really lknow it at the time, lonely. the lets had started school 3 mornings a week, and were seeing a bit more of their dad. most of my friends here had either recently left the country or were working daytimes, and going out in town in the evenings. i live far away from my family and other friends, i had very little massage work or money coming in and though i've always been 'creative' i had no real outlet, and my 'relationships' were purely convenient and unintrusive. i was actually quite happy in many things. life was calm for the first time in a long while. which was very welcome. but i needed to move on. to change something, and i had no idea what.

my friend pelin told me i should do it. honest guv. it wasn't my idea. i didn't even really know what a blog was. she sent me a few links and i started exploring.

and sHemale am i glad she did!

(fyi: i just accidentally typed 'biggle' instead of 'middle' during an IM chat. and now i can't stop giggling. and i'm not even drinking alcohol)

though my typing skills have not improved much AT All, and my arse hurts, and not in a good way, i can honestly say, that blogging, has, though i hate to say it, as it sounds cheesy and crap, changed my life quite significantly.
there. i've said it. shoot me.

this year i've found that i can still contribute, politically and personally to the world outside my living room without actually even leaving it. that i can record visually and with words the stuff that surrounds me, and invades me. i can still learn, have fun, discover new music, film and art, and meet and be inspired by strangers, without spending silly amounts of cash, twisting my ankle and spending the rest of the day moaning and drinking flat coca cola in sunglasses.

but most important of all, i've learnt that i can do some things i never knew i could do. some things that i love, and that now i've started i will never be without again.
and through doing those things i've not only met all of you, but i've made some amazing 3d friends for myself and for my children. friends that i hope to meet one day. and i've found that i can earn money which will allow me to do stuff that i love, by doing stuff that i love.

and i've met a man. the bestest man i've ever met. one who's nice to me. and supportive, and caring, and funny, and sexy, and can fix stuff, and has a nice penis, and wears hats, and who is strong and brave and not even angry when i expose his impending baldiness. who doesn't mind my beer belly, and accepts my shoes, and can hold an 'infinity in trousers conversation' with the lets. and who isn't scared of my mum, or my obsession with paolo nutini.
and he smells nice.

life is good here in my underpants.
and it smells nice.

thank you all for helping it to get that way. you have all contributed. and i will be eternally grateful. you challenge me and make me think. a lot. in a good way. mostly.

this is an anniversary that actually really meant something to me. one in which i can see the changes and progression of my life. and one that shows hope. this underoosery has been grood . and i look forward to many more with you. so cheers! have a drink on me ;)

now if only it wasn't another stupid valentines day here tomoro all would be peachy.
he might be fabulous but even macyummy's penis doesn't span oceans.

thank gaia for IM.

hog 'o phonics

2007-02-12T19:47:00.000+02:00

this is what happens when mamahog's try to teach hoglets to read without a book budget.

these trotters don't help with the mouse control either obviously.

but i don't think it's too bad for a first novel.

i'm already working on my sequel ;)

um yes.

2007-02-11T23:54:00.000+02:00

not that i'm obsessed or anything but frankly....

what is it with all these younger maclovelies who speak so eloquently to my soul?

nuff said.

Hacking off Non-essential Toes

2007-02-08T03:21:00.000+02:00

life's a funny old thing innit?

time and seasons weather us all. as the world turns around us and throws off its little shods of muck to splosh us in the back of our clean shiny trousers. or shods of earth in which we can grow something that eventually smells quite pleasant actually after lots of watering and careful pruning if you're willing to brave the threat of creepy crawlies and stick your nose in it.

...and breathe.
ooh hang on i think i need a beer.
.
.
.
.
yup that's better.

some things of course come easy and are pretty damn delicious and shocking and frankly hard to believe but real none the less. and marvelous.

but it's all always prone to change at the drop of a kilo.

and i don't just mean beer/life, and it's myriad mysteries.

i mean how my footsies swelled while i had babylets in my belly and now no longer fit into my poshestest of shoooezes. almost 5 years later!
snif.
i know i've complained of this in passing in many a post, but just tonight i was reminded again when i went to put on my favouritest louboutin's. the last time i looked (about 5 days ago) it was still possible to just about shqueeeeeeeezshe my flippers into their delicious leatheriness wiv the pointy bits and red underbits. yet tonight it most definitely was Not.
sob.
(i blame the internet)

so i had to go with the pradas.

the thing is.. one of these was a gift. the other was paid for with very hard earned cash. and both are beLOVEd. yet today neither allow me to walk. or at least not without cutting off a toe (louboutin) or looking as if i've been kneecapped (prada).
and that frankly is a fucking tragedy.

both used to be, once upon a dream, my favourite and mostly snuggliest comfiest (actually if we are talking about the louboutins then that's a slight fib if we really want to truthful. though they weren't THAT uncomfortable as far as stupidly high courts go, hell i wore them to my papas funeral, and that involved stacks of standing up)-and stay with me now- fuck-me shoes.
the lou's were total vamp. and the pradas always had that lovely sexy librarian feel to them.
either way they were wearable and yum. often.

but now they are purely decorative pieces in my hallway. and it's a rotten waste!
which all goes to reminds me that not all change is good. and though i have other sexy shoes that fit, none, frankly with ever be a scuff on these two.

so, thank plod for cheap cross-eyed shoe stretchery people just down the road. i've finally just decided that i'm gonna go down there tomorrow and beg.
(yes. just now. this minute. at time of writing actually.
remember. beer.)
BEG i tell you, for them to stretch my louvoulies to the limit. and then pray that i wont still need toe surgery.

coz thanks to the nice fertile earthy shods i've got a macyummy (who's turned on rather a lot by my well heeledness) coming Not soon enough, and a film festival opening (who because of the Not-soon-enough clause) i'll be forced to go to accompanied by the best looking but most fancyingMENtooingest date, and 1's of other stuff to do coming up, which will all require horny feet.

and all of you earthy shods will get to see their redsoliness next week. (even if it does mean the toe gets it.) so brace yerselves.

and i will too ;)

happy thursday sweetsneaks.

and trot on over to the sidebar for more...
if your feet can carry you.

edit: please forgive the load of old twaddle above. i was slightly squiffy at the time. and forgot the 'No Publishing Pants whilst Pished' rule.

meet and veg.

2007-02-02T22:21:00.000+02:00

so after a much needed night alone with macyummy in a hotel room in london, i travelled the 6 hours back to cornwall alone on the train. wearing a low cut top and high heeled boots, i was flushed from my lovely night and fresh faced due to the obligatory weeping-a-little-at-the-airport. i sat at a table by the window, surrounded by bags filled with some much needed retail therapy from the station and let england's green and pleasant lands speed by romantically at my side.

a few hours into the journey 5 tall, polite though rather spotty young men with the stinkiest cheesiest feet ever got on and sat opposite me. they helped various old ladies with their baggage and chatted in some eastern european language. polish i think. they asked me the time once, and after answering with a smile i continued to read my book on english history the whole way.

except at one point, when, still avoiding eye contact, i put it down briefly to think a little on something it had said.

at which point i was promptly asked "excuse me please, but how much money would one kilo of potatoes cost in this your country?"

bloody cheek!!!

if that was a bizarre form of chat-up, (which i'm mortified to admit i doubt) then flippin 'eck babe, if you have to use groceries i'd suggest something more sexy like legumes? or asparagus. but either way i very much doubt any of it's gonna get you laid.. even with all that melted cheese in your shoes.

and i'd just like to add that from now on in public spaces i will endeavour to always keep my eyes glued firmly in front of me onto some first class hentai.

i mean really!! do i look like i know the price of spuds???

give. me. strength.

hot crossed bum

2007-02-01T21:30:00.000+02:00

i'm keeping everything crossed once again.
i may as well.. it's not as if i've got anyone nearby to bother uncrossing for.

so for another couple of months i'll be staying crossed.

and wishing up peace and love and health to some friends who sorely need it.

and courage and joy and health to some littles in need of those.

and a job in istanbul, and strength and calm to my macyummy.

and patience and faith and health and a little more patience to myself.

and maybe a little more joy for us all.
we could all do with some of that.

i've been feeling a little low...

i'm hoping high heels and positive thinking will save the day.

they usually do.

happy half nekkid thursday underpant people.

*

visit more nakedness via the sidebar button link thingy.

EDIT: actually this just cheered me up a bit

fatty batty zoom boom.. and hnt!

2007-01-25T10:25:00.000+02:00

(edit) download this to hear our voices during bedtime stories :)

or just press play below

well what with all that cheese, and pastry, and chocolates, and cake, and crumble, and clotted cream, and pate, and stuff. we got a wee bit ummmm... wider round the rump.

so we got busy dashing away from scary dinosaurs and sharks in londinium to try to work some off.

it appears to have done the trick for now. though i feel mama's got some way to go before i feel like getting my wobbly waist anywhere near naked again.

this is up a little late and not as i originally planned... the internet and my computer hate me and joined forces last night and this morning to waste hours and hours of my very precious time and worse.. SILENCE me.

basturds.

but anyw*nkers, i went and done it! with only a little help from my nerd in shining armour :)

i meant to put more interesting photos in the slideshow too but after working on this since silly o'clock i'm bored frankly. and wanna go cuddle a let.

have a lovely thursday guys 'n gals. and weekend if i don't get back here before it's over.
i stupidly sent an email to my big group of friends yesterday asking if anyone fancied popping over for sunday dinner. instead of the usual 5 or 6 they ALL said yes. so now i'm stuck wondering how the hell i'll fit enough poultry and spuds in my oven to feed 14 people.

and where they'll sit and what they eat off and with.

it's not just the internet that hates me apparently... i appear to have a deathwish myself.

eeeeeek, and as the old cleaning lady scrubbed the temperature gauge off the stove i have no idea what the heat is. joy.
they'd better all bring a LOT of booze!
*

buggeritall.

2007-01-21T01:41:00.000+02:00

...well, nearly it all...

the good: the spots are healing. the weather's quite nice. the girls are happy enough to be home. (* sunday evening edit: and my lovely gunners just beat booman.U. so i'm as happy as a pig in muck which as i'm up to my armpits in reorganisation of papers, toys and books is strangely apt )

the bad: i've got a cold and post holiday depression.

the ugly: (and very bad indeed) Hrant Dink. the editor-in-chief of agos, the armenian community in Istanbul’s newspaper, and outspoken proponent of recognition and peace between turkey and it's armenian citizens, was assassinated in front of the newspaper’s head office in istanbul yesterday.

everyone's miserable. many friends knew, loved and supported him. there is a huge sense of anger and loss all around. and rather a lot of tears for him and for worry about turkeys present and future.

the assasin's been caught apparently. but who hired him still unsure.

anyway. in totally unrelated news this happened which did give me a giggle.
and i'm listening to the pogues and billy bragg on last.fm which is loverly.

i'll be back visiting you all again shortly. between tidying up the piles of junk and papers that don't seem to yet have a home. and sorting out what to do with the kids when i start work monday.

joy.

hope you lot are having a good weekend.

poor poxy kids

2007-01-16T11:42:00.000+02:00

(edit)

....have gone and got the dreaded lurgy. poor poor babies.

more later.

gotta go give them an oatmeal bath and put more cream on the welts. (again)

bloody chicken pox. loveday's got over 30 on her face alone!!!
(not that you can see it in this picture as that was 2 days ago...)

they are smiling less now. ugh. but we will endure.

hope you lot are healthier.

Hand kNits and Togetherness

2007-01-05T00:53:00.000+02:00

happy hnt darlings.

loveday took this! good huh?! i bought a tripod today so there should be some less blurry pics as well as the usual shiverstyle soonish.

i'm still on the clockwork comp so i'll stay brief..

sorry i've not been visiting. i will catch up when i return to macturkland after the 16th.

we've been playing lovely old fashioned games and doing antique jigsaws, as well as eating too much cheese and chocolate.
we went in the garden today and picked moss and berries and made miniature gardens in biscuit and cake tin lids.

we are having a lovely time here. my macyummmy man is arriving tomorrow for the weekend too. hurray!

i had a facial. :)

and we've been shopping carefully in the sales, and wearing our woolly jumpers

so things are good with us.

i've wanted to write about loads of stuff. but can't seem to find the time or stand the cold room and dodgy old packard PissyCrap. so i've been jotting down notes and i'll try to write something slightly more interesting after i visit you all upon my return.
in the mean time here's a few new pics.

love to you all. and i hope your new year has started happily and hopefully.

may it bring all that you need and a little more of that which you just desire.

peace sweetpeeps.

tis the season for inertia

2006-12-28T23:21:00.000+02:00

i'm having trouble with my mums computer. frankly as far as my maccrap goes.... ALL IS FORGIVEN! nothing is lovelier than my machine. well maybe some things.. but well.. whatever.

dial-up sucks kakabottoms.

as do packard bell junkboxes. as do chilly dining rooms.

so i'll be brief...

having a lovely yummy holiday thank you very much.

family so far all behaving, and being cute and funny.

so far.

mostly.

british food fabulous. with a little help from the french and the cornish.

weather not too bad at all.

mamahog lazy arse.

couldn't even be bothered to set up camera to PissyCrap yet. so no new photos sorry. and with this dial up connection so far having taken 36 minutes to upload a picture and no joy yet it possibly wouldn't have been worth bothering to do anyway.

if it ever does decide to be brave and get visual there'll be some pics from last year that i found in my mums documents below.

if not it didn't.

byeeeeee

hope you are all having lovely hols too.

kiss kiss.

ooh it went 'n did it! dear old codger. i'll pat it and stop swearing at it (quite so much) as my new years resolution.
maybe.

hey ho.. my feet are frozen. off to bed with hot water bottle. both things that i only seem to get at my mums ;)

yep, and a happy new year too babes.

grungeOrama.. guccirama

2006-12-19T16:41:00.000+02:00

i've been told 3 times in the last few weeks that i am a hippie.

apparently my wearing plaits in my hair, my sheepskin waistcoat and favourite grotty old fake fur lined boots make this obvious. as do these...

in my defense i'd like to argue that they choose what to wear to school. not me. (unless they are wearing some flimsey cotten frock and no knickers whilst there's snow on the ground.. i put my comfy fur encased foot down then)
...or is that the reason? that i allow them do go out dressed as loonies.

sure i think about the environment a fair amount and abhor war 'n guns 'n stuff. i went on rather a lot of marches as a spotty teenager, and shouted rude things at the boys in blue. i still sign petitions and am a member of way too many charitable organisations. i do still read my amnesty magazine religiously.

and we don't do too much junk food, except biscuits.

i also don't shave my armpits, and i blend homemade essential oil for my perfume.

i do yoga, and energy work in my holistic massage therapy sessions.

and we do prance about naked a rather a lot.

holy hallucinogenics man! we do appear to be turning into total hippies!

not that there's anything really wrong with hippies... hell they've got good values. they promote peace and most are pretty kind to the world, better than most, and relaxed. they gave me a few good years of childhood and some nice music. i do approve of them in general. much more than i do tories and republicans.

but i hate smoking dope!

and i can only tolerate a couple of reggae songs.. and for a very short time. usually until someone says 'jah man' and starts talking about moses. that REALLY pisses me off.

and dirt. those stupid rainbow fashions mixed with tie-dye.

and dirty hair.

and veganism, fruitarianism and even vegetarianism.. (though i did succumb to that myself for way too many years.. i'm well over it now though thank beef).

and i have over 70 pairs of shoes.. many of them scarily high and sexy and mostly made from leather.

but despite the imelda like shoe situation, i'm thinking that the main reason for people thinking i'm a hippie is our recent attire. i like the waistcoats and the funny princess froggy fashions on the hippielets, but i suspect that it doesn't translate so well when you are 5'6".

and i blame this entirely on the fact that i'm skint. i have no money to buy sexy fitted jackets, replace lost ballet cardigans and sport lacey suspenders and stockings, and i've nowhere to wear them anyway. all my threadbare clothes are at least 3 years old. many no longer fit, including my beloved prada shoes and evening dress that i grew out of whilst pregnant. sigh.

so as i'm not quite ready to go so far along the square route as asking for a razor, Aqua Di Gio and pajamas for Christmas, i will make it my mission in the new year to earn some cash so i can start dressing like a vixen again rather than a crusty.

i took the school job.

and i asked for and got a decent wage for it. so i'm on my way. fuckmefashions here i come. (and new lino in the bathroom)

we are off to blighty tomorrow to spend almost a month over christmas and the new year. i'll start with the sales there :)

and if i ever start waxing lyrical about the benefits of hemp, or go without dead animal flesh for more than 3 days please shoot me. it's the kindest thing to do.

in the meantime i'll be counting my proverbial free-range chickens before they've hatched and enjoy both giving and receiving this christmas, as well as hunting for some new completely unsensible high heeled shoes and matching handbag so as to stop the grunge spread in its tracks!

vegetarianism's for wimps!

hurray for hot deep baths!

scuzzy white kids wearing rainbow shirts chanting 'Jah Rastafari' and repetatively nodding their skunk addled heads to christian rock music with a mellower dub beat is a load of cunting bollocks!

sorry... i know that's a bit rude but it is! you see? hippie?.... my waxed arse i am! i'm just hippiesque without being stinky. honest guv'ner.

phew i feel better now.

do mamahogs dream of electric sleep?

2006-12-14T11:49:00.000+02:00

my focus changes. direction unclear
as i flit left and right in search of a path.
forward sideways up or down.
anywhere but behind me.
unless it's dark
when i find i'm afraid to flush the loo and walk back to the wall along corridors with eyes wide open.

new directions fly at me from every angle
making me smile.

each one shows promise.
each has merit.

yet put them all together and my limbs grow heavy.
muscles atrophy, eyelids sink, my body becomes a mush
and le sigh descends.
teensy weensy irritations stretch into yawns and slumber is my only desire.

and i go to sleep, sleep, and imagine that you're here with me.

i'm only a part time narcoleptic.
when dealing with doctors appointments, christmas shopping, airports and flight schedules, decisions.

so much to do, so all i want to do is doze.
say no. and lose hours and days, as i move in slo-motion and time wizzes by at the speed of a morning when you need to leave the house by eight sharp.

after the tension mounts, have to, need to, must, flicker and become holographic didn't i's should i have's and must i?
never mind. later.

i slip away, it's no use to fight.
my legs won't support me and my neck droops.

it's pleasant here in sleepwalkland. i'm surrounded by cool greens, soft moss underfoot and natural opiates support my skin.

let me dream and drift this way a while. let the waves of 'not now' wash over me and relax my soul.

before the moment passes and time slows again as the blood courses along my veins forcing me to wake.
and i snap out of it.

and say 'yes' again.

as always.... happy hnt....sidebar for more....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

shameful self promotion and blah.

2006-12-11T20:20:00.000+02:00

well i'm feeling a lot better babes. thanks for all the well wishes.

and thanks eversoeversomuch to the heavens for whoever invented oxycontin. very very nicey nicey.

i still don't have anything very interesting to say, but couldn't stand seeing my last post for another day.. so you get more rambling rubbish. apologs.

i'm busy lazily tidying, trying to recover fully and write some pieces for next months magazine as the deadline's wednesday. in between camp building, trying to make pistachio marzipan for christmas pressies and cleaning glue off the carpet as always.

so i'll just offer you this. it's one of my first 2 published articles. i have another piece in this months edition about a band called brazzaville who i met the other week too but that one's not on the website. this one's just a review of an exhibition, but i'm still really enjoying the new direction i'm being dragged along. though i think my name looks silly in print. hopefully i'll get over that. it's also a great excuse to get off my arse and go try new things... and the eagerlets cannot believe their luck!

i have 4 more to get written by the end of this week... so i'd better get moving. though i feel a bit sick. that's what happens when you get too excited over the marzipan sampling.
oh well, it's all in a good cause.

so that's enough crap about me for now... here are the davincilets at the museum. my wish list this christmas is topped by a tripod obviously.

happy new week darlings.

WHO what why really?

2006-12-10T13:06:00.000+02:00

the big hog is experiencing her first migraine in 20 odd years.

it aint pretty.

but it's not as bad thankfully as the ones she knows her mum and friends suffer.

i'm talking in the third person because i'm not quite sure where i am right now or who.

but the bloody lions keep appearing which can't be great.

so i'm typing in sunglasses.

i have to go out in the sun soon as a hog's work is never done. and anyway when i lie down it hurts more and weird stuff keeps flying at me so armed with these dark glasses and a peaked cap i will venture forth.

for now you could help a bit by going here and lighting a candle for some people who could do with some light.

and bloody blugger has chosen today to offer me beta which for some reason makes me feel even more anxious. should i shouldn't i, will i won't i, is it isn't it?

my mind is awash with eeeeeek.

sorry. i needs to focus.

and stop rambling.

i feel a bit sick.

toast.

and embrace the power of positive thinking. OHmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...

yogHNTinilets

2006-12-07T11:37:00.000+02:00

twisting soft pink limbs

the hog and lets get bendy

tied up to unwind

close my eyes and pray
i breathe deeply golden light
still full of hot air.

stretch on over to the sidebar for more half nakedness.
and remember, shoulders back, deep breaths and relax.

inşallah. if god pleases.

2006-12-04T16:26:00.000+02:00

today i am acutely aware of mortality.

one of my closest friend's husband had a kind of heart attack on saturday night. i can't remember the name for it now, but he was operated on immediately and has been recovering these past few days in intensive care. he will now have to completely change his lifestyle and work if he is to survive. he needs the prayer grunts today please.
he's 37. a young football playing, go-getting bloke. lying around shocked and wearing a nightie with only his dreams of 3 sexy nurses and a flannel to make him feel like the man he truly is.

on the way back from the hospital today i narrowly escaped my own death, and causing the death of at least 2 others... being the person responsible for paying the bonkers devout muslim lad who was driving me along those particular roads.

a perplexing and sweet smiling young man with a full beard and crochet skullcap. listening to echoing and disturbingly hypnotic family-favourite islamic sermons on the radio. he was the first obviously religious man i have ever seen driving a taxi here. he was cheerful and friendly throughout. he'd never been to my neck of the woods before and got quite excited about the prospect of visiting the coast road. and told me in no uncertain terms that "we are all born to the same god, and only through our own lives find our different names or leaders. none of these is important. as the one god loves us all if we love him".

nice to know i guess.... as we flew swerving from left to right using the whole road, and ran through 2 red lights almost chopping off one woman's foot, we slammed our right mirror back against other stationary vehicles twice and i began to understand why as i had first entered the taxi, he had called 2 separate friends and informed them that he would be "taking a customer to bebek inşallah, then inşallah i'll come back home, inşallah"
certainly without gods will, i, would be roadtoast.

although usually in such a situation, i would yell at them to 'slow down' or 'open (their) bloody eyes!', this poor guy really was doing his best. he just didn't have A FUCKING CLUE.
bless him. (which i guess is being done already without words from me.)

he asked me for direction incessantly. at every slight bend in the road he would slow jerkilly and ask if i wanted to continue on this path to the left or right. even when there was no other choice. the cars behind got pretty cross. one man who we cut off pointlessly whilst at a virtual standstill, actually got out of his car and came yelling towards us, but chauffeur abdullah or whatever his name was didn't even notice and drove off just as the irate man reached his window. that actually was quite funny.

everytime he slowed to ask my advice on which way to turn the steering wheel the cars behind would beep and try to overtake, but he wasn't having any of that either dear of him.. he'd mutter apologies vaguely and speed up swerving of course towards them rather than away.

i really have no idea why i didn't just bail out early. as i have two young children who need me alive that would have been the responsible thing to do. but poor young abdullah looked so eager to find the mythical land of bebek. and also i think i just froze. i know i couldn't get the imbecilic grimace/grin off my face until a full 5 minutes after i got home.

he was also very happy and indeed even shocked when he dropped me off and i said he could keep the 30kurus (20cents/10p). he blessed me.

cute. and terrifying.

and after that fingerbiting trip, my guardian angel or god, or whoever was on gods stop-the-loony-who-loves-me-and-mother-of-two-from-dying-tragically watch tonight will be needing some valium or more trendy sedative. so i suggest you don't do anything requiring too much divine intervention.

as long as young abdullah's on the roads praying for allah to take care of him the rest of us had better beware.

and start eating rabbit food, keep the health insurance payments regular and start wearing full nerf body armour.

* 'ş' is pronounced 'sh' so it's 'in-shah-lah' just in case you want to try your luck anyway.

GOD/ALLAH/YHVH/GAIA IT'S GOOD TO BE ALIVE! :)

warning hnt

2006-11-30T12:28:00.000+02:00

When I am an old woman I shall wear peach.
With a handbag that actually goes, and suits me,
And I shall spend my imaginary pension on budget barley water and woolen gloves
And sensible shoes and say we’ve no money for vodka.
I shall stand and fidget and bear the strain silently when I’m tired
And cut out coupons and frown at young punks
And get around to rustproofing my railings.
And make up for the frivolity of my youth.
I shall go out in galoshes in the rain
And volunteer to grow roses and pick weeds on a plastic wrapped cushion in public community gardens
And learn to knit.

You can wear twinsets and grow hair on your chin
And eat carefully for your cholesterol
Or only oxtail soup for a week
And keep a minimalist house with things packed neatly in cupboards.

But now we must have clothes that keep us fly
And pray for our rent and swear in the street
And set a fabulous example for the children.
We must improvise dinner and read underpants and curse at the online papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old and start wearing peach.

*

(apologies for the wicked butchery of jenny joseph's words)

here are some blue and white prayer-pants flying at the base of my trunk. i did after all promise my arse.
now i obviously am not old enough yet to do peach effectively. so i guessed that powder blue might work....

no??

oh well. a mamahog can't change it's butt huh?!

i continue to praise life, it's energy, and the many kind friends that are with me along it's breezy paths. and pray to the ether for guidance and new roads. that won't make me get old (in spirit) before i die.

and say thank you.

from the heart of my bottom.

happy hnt to all. fly the flag of eternal youthfullness over to the sidebar for more half nakedness. and have a lovely weekend.

i'm too cool for school... (a prayer request.)

2006-11-28T00:27:00.000+02:00

so i've had a busy lazy week. full of yummy and lovey. and no computer pants stuff. i've smiled an awful lot.

i've got just been published thrice in a local magazine (which though fun as i get to visit stuff and scribble just like i do here, pays pants) and i've recently started an after school playgroup at my house for a group of 4 year-olds once a week.

but i haven't massaged for money in over a week. and despite having new found blagging-my-way-into-stuff credentials i'm still bloody brassic.

so as you can see below i still haven't got new flooring in the loo, and after the new washer and plane tickets home at christmas burning a fucking crater in mine and my ex-hubbies pockets i'm in serious danger of being forced to either give up the nightie slaying helper (who despite damages, actually helps a lot with laundry and dust and food and dirty loos and babysitting while i do the other jobs as i'm still a single working mum with no other viable childcare options), or taking a job that pays peanuts and would require me to drag mine and my sorry tiredlets arses out of the door at 8am every weekday morning, to go teach a class of ten 2 year olds till 1pm then come home and play and teach english reading and writing with mine, plan classes for the next days, repair what damage the helper has wrought that day, cook, write and go out research for my new writing gig and try to fit in massages too as i'll still need that money.

in lovedays words... "i'm scawered" and in danger of being fired from the magazine gig as i can't seem to punctuate effectively.

i did almost the same job last year in a different school and hated it. i was exhausted with the noise and the other kids, and came home numb and too knackered to give my little darlings the patient attention they deserve. i got narky with the huglets and then still had to do all the other stuff.

so YIKES. (see..? even the thought of teaching makes me talk bollocks)

i do realise i'm lucky. many mothers work long hours everyday. and i'm bitching about 5 measly mornings. but i hated it. and to cover my misery i have to act extra hard to make the class of kids feel that i love them as if they were my own and love being there... and that really is incredibly draining. teaching is a vocation. and it's not mine. mine is to be a fabulous mum and fun friend. i was neither last year. i was a whining snapdragon whose shoulder mutinied a lot.

so please pray to the ether for a miracle. for more clients, for more confidence and writing opportunity, for anything which will allow me to spend my time out and about and at home with my babies.
i'm counting on your positive thoughts people. happy, positive green and gold thoughts in mamahog 'n the lets direction... the lets are counting on you you know. do not force them to leave the house at that ungodly hour yet. they are late risers. and they take after their mummy... we need at least 30 minutes staring at the closet time each morning to function reasonably.

so a little virtual prayer petition power please. just give the ether a 5 second grunt of thought when you finish reading this, for our crabby-mum-and-neglectedlet fund.

do not let me down.
and i promise i'll stop posting toilet pictures.

otherwise, you'll be stuck with this kind of moany boring post all the time. and green snot on my two year olds pics.

come on now.. you know you don't want that.

would it help if i showed you my bum?

again.

threats and incentives.. you see, i'm a fabulous mum ;)

skip to the loo half naked.

2006-11-23T00:02:00.000+02:00

last sunday, november the 19th, was World Toilet Day. it's an important day in this mamahog's calendar obviously.

there are so many ways to celebrate a day as important as this one..

farting contests (both real or made up sounds... the lovedove's favourite)

sponsored number two abstinence (just put a man i'm likely to be having sex with anywhere within plopping-sound distance and i can go without visiting the loo for days on end)

no flushing (very californian and pc)

karzi parties (where you are forced to go to the loo to keep each other company- yashoshkosh's favourite)

turdlywinks play off's.

but i decided that in the end being as it was also my special 36th world looday and my macyummy man flew in early especially to suprise me, that i'd forgo doing anything too pooey.

and instead i've just been all sweet smelling and cute and slutty.

so my humble apologies for being away from my and your underpants this week. i've been busy .

photograph credits to my jackman who giggles at shit for shits and giggles.

skip to the sidebar for less crudeness and more rudeness half-nekkid.
and have a sweet scented weekend.

tit's! out! for the lets! i said tit's out for the lets!

2006-11-17T01:28:00.000+02:00

if someone asked you to cover yourself with a blanket while settling down to a meal at your favourite restaurant, because they felt uncomfortable looking at you due to some weird juvenile complex they had, would you do it?

if someone told you you had to wear the burka because they felt uncomfortable seeing any of your flesh, would you spend the summer months clothed in black, with mesh over your mouth, just so they could walk around shirtless and 'comfy'? would you really? in england? or america? or turkey?

are we as adult people really so repressed and selfish and unable to control our own messed up emotions and ideas, that we think it's ok to force them on to the rest of the world and our own babies, rather than face them and begin to recover?

apparently so.

stop the fucking plane. i wanna get off.

no. actually i want to push a few other people off and stay put thank you very much!

i first took a plane with the lets when they were 4 months old. we were told we had to sit in separate seats. one baby had to be with someone else. luckily my mum was with us so one littlelet was passed to her. which meant that i couldn't breast feed as we took off and landed. i tried to suggest that earpopping and screaming would ensue if they couldn't suckle. but was told 'no'.

screaming ensued. other passengers rightly grumbled, i was quickly passed baby number 2 and peace and quiet was resumed.

we went through that scene many times until the babes stopped feeding at 2 years old. each time everyone on the flight was relieved and joyous when my babies were attached to my tits.
it never once occurred to me to use a blanket to shield.... what? the little extra flesh? the heads of my babies? noone could see us anyway unless they stuck their heads into my seats which noone was likely to do really.
i was never asked to. i would have said 'hell NO!' had i been. how would they breathe? how would i keep it in place? why on earth should i need to?

we see low cut tops, see through tops, topless women in papers and magazines, workmen on the street, justin timberlake's nipples on the front of magazines every bloomin day.
and that's sexy.. sometimes.

but we aren't talking about sexy here. we are talking about lunch. why should we hide lunch?? what absolutely amazes me is that some truly sickminded people even equate breastfeeding to a 'sexual act'??????

we have been objectifying our bodies for centuries. especially the female form. it's no longer seen as natural. they have become purely tempation. sex. so it's no wonder many of you feel uncomfortable seeing them or showing them. i understand that its in-breed now. i also understand that it wont change overnight.
many people feel uncomfortable about women's breasts just like i feel uncomfortable about um, runny french cheese.
if i see it i want it. if i show mine i'm afraid someone's going to want to come and devour it. so if i have it i tend to keep it hidden. until i see someone i want to share it with.. or until i'm just stuffed and think damn it share and share alike.. not everyones going to want it anyway and it needs air.
even when i see it, i don't always eat it. i control myself more often than not. either it's not mine to eat. i can't afford it. or hell, it'll make me fat if i eat too much. look the other way keda.

where was i going with this?

oh yes.. so my attraction to runny cheeses is not so dissimilar to peoples attraction to breasts.
they are both nice. they are both pretty sexy in the right setting.

they are also completely natural and completely UNsexy in other settings.
they both provide food comfort and nourishment.

all in favour of banning cheese say 'I'.

all in favour of learning to control our own urges, averting our own eyes and providing nourishment, less complexes and a healthier freer world for the next generation say 'aye I'

if we continue to be ashamed of our own bodies, of providing the best food for our children and of seeing other bodies and human contact in it's most innocent form, we are not only repressing ourselves, but making sure that the next generation has the same hang ups. and all the underlying sexual predatory danger, and inequality that goes with it.

here in this 'muslim' country i have breastfed in posh restaurants, on the beach and on aeroplanes. in a cafe right outside the gates of a mosque i have balanced on a stool lifted my shirt and attached a baby to each nipple. men and covered women have come out of the mosque after prayers and congratulated me on my beautiful healthy babies while they suckled.
the men avert their own eyes.

noone at any time has asked me to cover such a natural thing. they have more self respect than that. as do i.

very good friends of mine have felt the need to cover themselves to feed their babies and it makes me sad. others have gone to the toilets to feed. to the most unhygienic places in the world. just to avoid upsetting anyone else or being stared at by people who might tell them to stop.

our children being forced to breathe through nylon blankets or in germ riddled lavatories.

because a few, very few, confused, ignorant, shamefilled, repressed idiots with no self respect have nothing better to do than to pass on their ignorance to the rest of the world and perpetuate their own inadequacies.

that makes me seethe. seeethe i tell you!

if we allow people to tell us to cover ourselves or our children we are going backwards. we are no longer allowed to touch. children are banned from hugging in schools, 5 year-old boys are suspended from schools for touching female classmates and we wonder why there is so much more teenage pregnancy, abuse and rape. humans need contact.
repression leads to violence. emotion, sexual and physical.

its time we started supporting each other and thinking about our children. we need to stand up for ourselves and those we need to feed. if you've ever been stuck on a plane with a baby in meltdown, believe me you would be very glad if the bugger would suck on a nipple!

when i fed the lets it wasn't to try to change the world. it was usually just to stop the noise and nourish them. but if the world want's to try to stop us from doing that then we should be prepared to kick the worlds bottom. and i'll support anyone who does that.

unlike some of the stupid uptight self and women loathing fuckwitted scaredyarsed cold hearted and unhealthy wankers commenting here and here.

and delta/freedom(my arse) airlines can suck my boobs!

so there!
with cabbage leaves on.

i'b had it up to by deck

2006-11-16T12:01:00.000+02:00

wew, i stiw can't spell anyfig. or taste. and fwankwy, i feel pooier than a poo souffle that lost it's poof. and it's wiff.

and i had to sped all bloobid day outside coz the refurbasturds upstairs wooldn't stop their incessant dwillig.

so dow i'b dackered and sicker.

BUT... i did go buy a washig bachide on the dever dever from a youg mafia bloke which was kinda fud. it'll come daboro.

AND yashi did dwess herself did mordig and decided to wear du gorgeous turkish shalwars dat she'd bid too scared to wear before in case people laughed at her. and she looked supercute.

AND i fidally got by act togever edough to order some books fum amazon wiv a gift certificate i was gived 362 days ago.

so figs are lookig up.

but undil i can breave agaid i'b godda be unda da cubbers doid as much o dis as i cad..

betweed screabs o "SHUT DU FUCK UP YOU DOISY DOSEWIPES!" at du ceilig.

here's wishig you all a happy hnt. and absolutely do snot at all.
and for dose of you who don't get turd od by sdiffles.. check out du buddod on du sidebar there'll be healthier hottie out there sobwhere :)

where's du bloody olbas oil?

2006-11-13T20:55:00.000+02:00

i'b iw.

by dose is bocked and by ead urts. and by fwote feews like a cheese gwater.
and by washig machine died takig de west of du floorig wiv it.
and dow by bathwoomb looks like a jumbu sale.
and by telly's on du blink too.
and i've had to tur dowd four clients.
and du giwls are bored.
and du basturds upstairs are thumpig and dwillig and bagig all bloomid day! i'll refurbish their bloody arses when i'b better.

but du tunnels visions impwoving.

so norbal but even skinter viewig will be resumed pwesently.

hope figs are less stuffy where you are.

bloody winter.

Happy Necking Thorsday in the lap of the gods...

2006-11-09T12:04:00.000+02:00

i could of course continue to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders

or...

i could turn the heavens on their axis, make the stars revolve and go gather apples..

i'll provide a back scratcher for anyone who wants to take the weight.
because i'm not planning on giving up my bounty anytime soon.

happy half necking on robicusandronicus' birthday.

and a happy half neck'ed thursday to the rest of you, wherever you are in the atlas.

my guy's bigger than your guy... spare a penny for them both?

2006-11-05T03:32:00.000+02:00

remember remember the fifth of november
gunpowder treason and plot

i see no reason why gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot.

guy fawlkes guy fawlkes, 'twas his intent
to blow up king and parliament.

he wanted papal rule from far,
religious fervour, catholic power.

death to all who don’t agree,
but he was catched. so england stayed free.

and this is what we celebrate tonight.
king and parliament saved from a treasonous plight.

they cried “holler boys holler boys, let the bells ring,
holler boys holler boys, god save the king”

and i can do nought but agree. (except for the king bit!)
any rule from afar does not bode well with me.

so today i question, is englands government led,
by its people's wishes, or someone else's instead?

because isn’t that treason? if our people and name,
are sold out to others for monetary gain,

and we sell out our armies and force them to kill
in immoral wars in gods name against its will?

so tonight it’s not the pope or guy i’ll burn on my fire,
the effigy burning on the funeral pyre

will be that of politicians and terrorists corrupted by greed.
putting their own wealth and power above their peoples need.

and i’ll pray for a earthbound movement of commoners to yell
“it’s time for our leaders to all go to hell.

and stop selling our human rights over the price of oil
and conflicting gods, before we are all made to boil."

xenophobic nationalism's destroying all good.
because our leaders encourage that, not understanding, as they should.

they use fear of the foreign to cover their tracks
as they scare us into laying blinkered, and flat on our backs

calling real patriots who question their motives traitors and fools
should we really continue be their tools?

so holler boys holler girls, stand up and sing,
holler boys holler girls let the bells ring.

and chime throughout the world, from every minaret and steeple,

“people should not be afraid of their government. Governments should be afraid of their people."

so remember, remember, the 5th of november,
the gundpowder treason and plot.

and think on who's taking care of your homeland now,
and if they are good caretaker, or not.
*

now for real poetry and inspiration for big meany monster vanquishing go visit the jabberwock. that was another of my favourite childhood rhymes. luckily even i wouldn't go so low as to butcher that :)

despite all i do rather like this grizzly time of year with all its historical tales and twists.
i'll miss the fireworks, bonfires, mulled wine and festivities tonight. i love england and it's people. they'll always be my family and my home.

and having travelled some of the world and lived among other cultures for years i see good all over the place.
the bad i see home and abroad is always from ignorance. from people never looking outside their own little bubble. thinking without questioning that they are better than anyone else. and from greed. sad how they often seem to go hand in hand.
and even sadder how often we turn that into nationalistic bile.
instead of just loving our homelands and wanting to share our joy in that, we seek to force our views on others, often with murderous results, and to demonise or discount anything which seems different. or that we don't even know.
very sad how the world over, it's the insecure bullies still causing fights, stealing the lunch money and calling people names. even their own.

anyway i'm going to enjoy this night of intrigue. and make a mini multi-headed 'guy' that looks and functions a little like the Pushmi-pullyu in the original dr dolittle film, but with a very long many-barreled name :)

now where did i put the sparklers??

Happy Nikon'ed Thursday

2006-11-02T12:01:00.000+02:00

first things first..

for all you muppets who thought i was using my phone for photos, sigh... i should be so lucky. only one new toy at a time in this neck of the woods, my antique cell phone's held together with gaffer tape!

i DO have a new camera though, as promised. a very sexy white nikon coolpix s3.
nothing too fancy.. but he's got 6pixels. and i can switch him from bog standard missionary to lots of foreplay and experimental s&m stuff when the mood strikes me, he's super adaptable.
and i do like to play with my toys as you know.

so all the weird colouration and blurring you've been seeing recently is intentional.. well, mostly. happy accidents are my speciality lets say :)

we are getting to know each other intimately, my digital love and i. and with all the little internal buttons he likes me to push i don't really feel the urge to change anything about him right now. so i'm just playing with him for all he's worth in his birthday suit. though in the future i would like to see him standing on a sturdy tripod...

last week we had quite an intense session, and he saw me in many positions and in many lights. though we'll be staying at first base for a while.

...and for the next couple of weeks i think i'll be sticking to that theme.

necking with my nikon.

so with the lights down low, here's mamahog overexposing herself and seeing double. twice.

quick, turn your head to the right and click for more half nakedness.

and don't be afraid to push the all the buttons. you never know what you might discover lurking in the shadow. just always be prepared for a suprise ;)

all hallows

2006-11-01T01:51:00.000+02:00

it was all rather last minute this, as we don't really do halloween. but on another rainy day (and sleety actually), it seemed like something fun to do.
so..

what we did to a pumpkin....

what i did to them....

and what they did to me and an old friend who popped around...

and what he said to them...

once upon a time in a far away land a little boy lived with his mother.

the little boy would not do any chores.
he would not help his mother tend the garden, or sweep the floor. he would not do anything but draw.

he drew cats. only cats. hundreds of them. he would draw them with sticks in the dirt. scratch them on the walls and covered every scrap of paper in the house.

his mother despaired.

finally one day she took him to the local temple and asked the priest what she could do for her boy.

the priest offered to take him in. to teach him to read and write and take his mind away from the cats.

but to no avail.

he would not read, would not write, would not pray. still the cats surrounded every surface within his reach.

the priests took care of the boy for some years, but eventually he was once again sent on his way. he packed a scarf with food and a pencil and tied it to the end of a stick. just before he left the old priest who had grown to care for the boy told him to beware. "stay away from the large spaces" he said. " stick to the small".

the boy walked for many many miles and as night fell he entered a quiet village. there was noone in sight, and all the doors and windows were barred.
as he wandered alone through the empty streets he came across a huge temple.
he tried the massive doors and as they creaked open he found himself inside an enormous vaulted hall.

he looked around in awe at the huge white walls and reached for his pencil.

and he drew his cats. large, and small. jumping, sleeping, stretching and rolling. cats all over the walls.

as night drew on the boy began to feel tired. he put down his pencil looked about him and remembering the words of the priest... "stay away from the large spaces. stick to the small", he found a little cupboard in the corner, crawled inside and slept.

some time later he was roused from his dreams by the creaking of the massive temple doors. through a tiny crack in his cupboard he could see a gigantic rat monster entering the temples hall.

he did not know it, but that was the reason all the villagers doors were barred and the temple deserted.

terrified he held his breath and closed his eyes tight as he heard the creature scratching and sniffing outside. but then, what's that he heard? hissing? moaning and keening...

"maaaaaauuuuuuuuuOOOOOOOOOOOWWW" meeeeeeeaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuwwww" "kssssssshheeeeeeeeee"

the sound of cats. fighting.

the boy sat curled up, eyes shut tight shivering all night. even after the sounds died down. until the morning sun shone in through the little crack and he timidly, and with stiffened limbs emerged from his hidey.

there, lying on the floor in the middle of that huge hall was the rat monster. dead. his fur matted and caked in blood. ears torn and flesh ripped.

and as the boy rubbed his eyes and looked about him in wonder, he saw that his beloved cats, still peaceful on the walls all around him, had something red glistening in the sunlight around their teeth.

happy halloween fellow spirits.