A Dingo's got my Barbie!!!

Swampy's Baby Shower for Karmyn.

I guess it's just as well that I'm confident about my sexuality, otherwise I'd be too phobic to go to a baby shower. But then even, if it did bother me, I'd still go becasue Karmyn is one of my oldest blog buddies, in fact she'd probably be my oldest buddy if it weren't for Swampy, Holtie and Pamela, (Karmyn's mom and my adoptive big sister), *all of whom are as old as the pyramids!

So anyway, Swampy (as only Swampy could) has offered to host a Baby Shower for Karmyn, which I think is pretty darned nice of her given that she's been laid up lately with a bad back and some splinters in her butt, both caused by excessive broomstick travel.

Seeing as it's a Baby Shower, which from what I can make out are sorta like Buck's nights, only without the ball and chain, or strippers, I have made my contribution a bit like a game with clever (well at least I thought so), tricky links, which will probably bore the shit out of you.

I know I'm a couple of days early (actually only one day for me, you know, international dateline and all), but I won't be able to post tomorrow (my 9th) because I have to take Belle back to Tamworth for a checkup (and you thought you finally had a Belle-free post didn't you?).

So to get my linkfest rolling, just click on my gifts.

* Updated...does that make it any clearer Swampy?

The old 'good news and bad news' schtick.

Yes folks, there's good news and bad news...the good news is that I now have something to blog about, the bad news is it'll be about Belle getting hit by a car.

I've just got back from the veterinary clinic and I'm still a bit shell-shocked. She'll be ok eventually, but our finances won't, it's going to cost at least a thousand dollars! To give you an idea of how much of an emergency it was, I didn't even take take any pictures, in fact I didn't even take my camera to the vets', which in the end turned out to be a good thing because since it was out of hours, there was only one guy on duty and I had to be his assistant while he stabilised her. I could take a picture of all the blood I've still got on my hands, but I don't think I will.

I'll give you the story tomorrow (my time), right now I just want to have a cup of tea and take a deep breath. Belle is still at the vets', and will be for a while yet.

Here's a picture of her in happier times, MDW took this one when she was up here for Easter...

Ok, for those of you who were disappointed with the lack of appropriate images of gore in this post, I'm sorry that I was too discombobulated to get pictures. However, as a consolation prize, here's a shot of what I'm having to clean everyday on Booey at the moment...

Oh, and Bentley has a skin infection that he's booked in for on Monday. It don't get no better than this!!

The Money or the Box?

Update** How tacky of me! I just realised not only did I not link to her, I didn't even properly identify her. "Who are you talking about?".....Why, Joy T. of course! There, that's better. I think you all know her anyway, but if not she's worth a visit.

Without doubt, I'll take the box every time thank you, the one on the right that is. Now if the question was "The Postage or the Box?" my answer may not have been the same. Jeezes the post office is making some money off us! Actually, it' making more off you than me, anyone who has ever received something from ol' WT should have noticed that the stuff I send, while not being spectacular, is always light!

But hey I didn't pay the exorbitantly expensive postage so why should I care? But the reality is I do, (it's just the kinda guy I am). Enough of the downers, let's see what's in the box...

Well that's strange, why would she go to all the trouble of putting leaflets and forms from Australian Customs Service in a package from Canada?  I mean surely I could get those things easily enough here, considering they just contain information about Australia! Oh wait, what does this say? Hmmm, that's not good. They seized the unidentified plant material, well there goes the attitude adjustment that I asked her to send. Dammit!

Not to worry there's other stuff in the box...

 

Yumm!! Look at all that Canadiany goodness! Woohoo! Lucky I only ever wear sweatpants and wife beaters (that's trakkie dacks and singlets, for the non-American readers). The only problem though, is those darned Canucks can't make a simple, normal piece of food. It's always got to be made half English and half French. Now the English half is ok, being of Scottish descent myself, I'm used to bland stodgy food (shit I hope Sam isn't reading this!), but the French half can be a bit weird as you can see from the photo...

Now I don't know about you guys, but there's no way I'm eating spiders and crusty ants! Merci, mais non! n'est pas pour moi! J'ils ne mange pas! I'm a bit rusty on my French but I think that's close (I could have used one of those translator gizmos, but where's the fun in that?)

On the other hand you can sometimes get a benefit from the food being made in both French and English, like the Cheezies for example. In this case I lucked out as I'm a bit of a cheese lover (both cutting it as well as eating it), and there was double cheddar, there was real cheddar and vrai chedder (the vrai chedder wasn't quite as good as the real chedder). But all in all, it wasn't really that bad, the Oh Henry! bar was a Grand Format (that's French for Big Bastard) so even though I had to throw away the French half, there was still plenty left.

Now this thing is going to slay you! I like to call it my Spannersaurus Rex....

He may not look like much now, but once he's armed he's a real nasty piece of work! I actually have mixed feelings about this guy, one the one hand it was love at first sight (and still is), but then on the other hand, having a trade background makes it hard to accept the destruction of what appears to be three perfectly good spanners (albeit imperial). But I'll get over it, because it really is a great piece of art.

Thanks very much Joy, your generosity is really quite amazing for someone whose grumpiness can at times make me look like Mother Theresa (before she shaved her beard). Hmm, does anyone know the proper etiquette regarding insulting someone who has just done something nice for you? Never mind, I'm sure it's okay.

Tune in tomorrow and I'll show you what's in the box that the wonderful Gawilli sent me.

Insomnia

It's 3:15am as I write this, and I don't actually have insomnia. What I have, is two stupid dogs who think it's funny to escape just as I'm leaving to go to dinner at a neighbouring farm (funny story, I'll write it in the morning when I'm awake). They still weren't back when I got home at around 10:30pm, so I went to bed.

About 1:00am Bentley showed up but he was all wet and I was pissed at him so I didn't let him in, then at about 2:45am Belle showed up and nearly broke the door down letting me know she was back. She was wet too, but I let her in and dried her off, in the meantime Bentley had taken off again. If anyone wants a set of matching dogs, please let me know (I'm keeping the pug).

It's now 9:30am and I've been up for a couple of hours reading blogs and whatnot. I don't know what time Bentley came home but he was here when I got up around 6:30.

So, about some confusion I caused in one of yesterday's posts... In what has become an increasingly rare occurrence since that crazy bitch came into my life (I'm serious, Belle is definitely a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic!), I was snoozing at around 8:30am (yesterday morning) when the phone rang. Having a phone on the bedside table doesn't mean anything when you're interrupted while visiting your REM friends, plus I don't like that phone much, so I jumped out of bed and grabbed the phone in the computer room (my favourite phone), fuck! I forgot that it's plugged into the computer outlet board and I haven't fired up the computer yet. I did a passable impersonation of a pinball machine as I bounced of the walls on either side of the hallway as I lumbered towards the kitchen to grab the other cordless phone.

"Hello" I said. When I worked, I would always answer my work phone with my name and department, but at home, 'hello' is all I say. Those who know me recognise the greeting, those who don't have no idea who they're talking to. The response was "Hello, Peter? This is 'blahblah garblegarble', can you hold on for a minute?"

W-T-F?!?! And here's how come I now believe that when you're drowning you see your life flash before you, because in the split second between when the caller asked me to hold and when I replied I thought "What the Fuck? You called me! And you want me to hold! Fuck off!! But wait, she said my first name and identified herself, and those are two things direct marketers don't do so they must know me. Yeah, but they still probably want something from me anyway."

Having completed my internal discussion and come to a decision, I politely yet firmly replied "Well, no" and hung up. Since I was up now, I decided to crank up the beast and see who loved me. As I was reading emails and blogs the phone rang again, but this time I was prepared and let it go to the machine. About thirty minutes later, curiosity got the better of me (I would normally just delete it without listening) and I played the message..."Hello, Peter? This is 'now I could understand her' and I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner tonight?"

Oh fuck! I could have handled that better! It was the lady from two farms away (they have some stuff stored in my shed, so every now and then they give me meat or invite me to dinner so I don't throw all their stuff out on the street). The thing is, she has a speech defect, and unless you're really paying attention, she can be pretty hard to understand. What had happened, was just as I answered the phone here husband came in and asked her for something.

Sorry, I just realised that this does nothing to clear up the confusion I caused yesterday. You see, because I got a dinner invite I just assumed it was Saturday, because that's when people inviter people to dinner.  Not working, and being woken up the way I was didn't help much either. So that's why I said "I'll see you on Monday (my time)", at the bottom of my post, for as you all know, I don't post on Sunday's. Oh, and I didn't think it was Saturday for just a little while, I thought it was Saturday until Melissa sent me an email explain her comment (at around 3:30pm my time). I think this must be an all time record for the most numeric time references in any one post!

Now that we're back on track, make sure you come back tomorrow if you want to see what's inside these boxes. For all those bloggers out there who go out of their way to be polite and supportive to their fellow bloggers and get nothing, this is really going to piss you off!! And to anyone that has never received a gift from a fellow blogger, tough shit.

Ha ha ha ha!

A mini drama.

You'll have to forgive me if I'm not my normal ebullient self. It has nothing to do with the majority of yesterday's commenters paying more attention to James Reyne's knackers than the song itself. No, the reason I'm not too bubbly is that, as of right now, Belle has been missing for 24 hours.

Animals going missing from here isn't such a big deal in itself, the cats do it all the time, and even Bentley has been gone overnight before. What makes this a bit of a worry are the circumstances. Yesterday when I came back from doing some shopping, I let the guys go for a run as usual. Ten minutes later Buddy came home, and fifteen minutes after that Bentley showed up.

About ten minutes after Bentley showed up there was a huge thunderstorm and unbeknownst to me, the gate that I leave open for the guys to get in, was blown shut. So I'm guessing Belle came home and couldn't get in, so she took off again and got scared by all the thunder, plus the rain would have washed away much of the scent she would have used to find her way back. On top of that, she's only seven months old with no road sense.

I've driven around the area, and at least I didn't find her on the side of the road, so I guess that's a good thing. The bad news is that she wears a tag with my phone number and no-one has called, so if she has been picked up by someone, they aren't pure of heart.

I don't want you to get all worried about this, I'm worried enough for all of us.

NoMoBelle post #23

A blogging housewarming party.

Good old Swampy came up with an idea for welcoming Julie and Tiffany into their respective new homes. The idea is that we all post on Friday 16th Nov, which is what I'm doing, but my Friday is before yours so I'm a bit early. The idea is to lavish cybergifts upon them.

I thought this was a great idea because it saved me actually sending them a real gift. But just because I didn't have to actually send a 3D object doesn't' mean that I went overboard, no sir (I mean it). You have to click to see the gifts.

 

And this is for the Hubbies, they get one set each.

Happy House-warming and I hope you all live happily ever after in your beautiful new homes.

MyPoBlo post #16

Some awards and an explanation

First the explanation. The comments for yesterday's post fell largely into four categories 1) "If you need a break, then do what's right for you", 2) "Keep writing you bastard, you must amuse us regularly", 3) "Suck it up, we all run out of things to say occasionally. Get over it.", and 4) "Don't compare yourself to Ree, you'll just feel inadequate".

For those of you in Category 1, "Thank you". For the Category 2s out there, "Whatever". If you were in Category 3, "I haven't run out of things to say, just the motivation to say them". And finally for the Category 4 group, "It was just coincidence that I mentioned Ree in this post (and I only mentioned her by way of a compliment to her, not a comparison to me), as reading her post was the last thing I did before writing my own."

Funnily enough, there was no-one in category 5) "Hey I know what that building is!" so this clicky linky should be of interest to all of you. If the link works (I say that because I've bypassed the sign in page that asks some questions **immediate update, "oh no you didn't", I couldn't by-pass the sign in). If you have the time, enter the site and check it out (do yourself a favour and take the virtual tour at the bottom of the home page), if not then this link gives enough info, but the first link is better.

The fact is, I've been feeling a general malaise for a few weeks now,  maybe it's all the pollen or the the change of seasons, I don't know, but it has manifested itself in an overall apathy towards blogging.  And as you know I don't normally write about such things (there's enough out there who do to fulfil the needs of those who like to read about it). I'm not sinking into depression or anything, I just have an overwhelming feeling of blah...

Plus, my Daily Trivia quiz isn't working out how I planned. It was meant to be an ego boost for me, but I've been consistently copping a hiding from a bunch of you, some whom don't even read the Dingo!

So putting aside my gripes for now, I've been given a couple more awards that I need to acknowledge.

Thanks Jen, even though you only award me these things to see what I do with them I'm touched. This first one she gave me seems to have something to do with Saturday Night Fever, though I'm not sure why. But then I'm not sure why people feel compelled to keep coming up with awards either.

Now this next one has to be without a doubt the ugliest looking piece of crap I've seen in years! I don't even know what it's for, but it sure is ugly. Come on! People put these in their sidebars, how about making them a little more attractive!

If I feel like it, I'll write the next bit of the hot and passionate love story (yeah sure) about me and MDW later today.

Pirate Day!

Avast ye scurvy landlubbin dogs, stop what yer doin' and pays attention...

Arr! this be Captain Pussy Willow the greatest buckler who ever swashed, an' I be here to tells ya that this be Talk Like a Pirate day.

So ifs ya don't fancy a good keel haulin', or some serious plank walkin' then ye best be speakin' Pirate on the 19th of the Ninth month. Those wot are a day late and a silver dollar short (that be ye who follows Black Dubya) then ye can talks pirate a day early.

Arrr, no self respectin' pirate would writes a post without a pet picture, so har's mine but ye'll ne'er get me buried booty!

Too bad about Bung, but he just couldn't make the cut so he didn't make crew of the 'Willow'. Luckily me ol' cat Bilge was ready so he joined up instead...

Arrr! Now fer the pubic service announcement....here be a product that Smelly Uncle Mark could use...

Here be the words wot was said at that start..."Avast me panties! This be Cap'n Pussy Willow speakin' at ye on Pirate's Day. So park yer dingys, pull up a barrel take swig o' rum while ye visit wi' old Cap'n Willow. Ya lily livered bilge rats!

Talk like a Pirate Day.

Ahoy! All me loyal readers, once again we be celebratin' Talk like a Pirate Day. There's a bit o' seafarin' hearty in all o' us, an' I know Mark has had more than jus' a bit o' a seafarin' hearty in him!

So let's all throw caution t' wind an' embrace our inner gentleman o' fortune.  T' kick things off, here's how I be writin' me posts terday and termorru...

If you are wondering how I manage to translate my usual perfect English into Pirate speak, it's really quite simple, I just use one of these commercially available pirate keyboards.

So simply by using one of these the previous sentence would appear on the screen as "If ye be wonderin' how I manage t' translate me usual perfect English into Shipmate speak, 'tis really quite simple, I jus' use one o' these commercially available sea dog keyboards."

 

But for the really tricky words I use me trusty EncycloPirater...

So now ye know how t' harangue in sea dog like th' Long John Silver, go ou' an' do yer worst!
Ya scurvy dog whut deserves the black spot! And don't forget to keeps ya bung hole dry!

Aarrrr! I can't gets me pikturs ta line hows I likes 'em! I'll keel haul the mangy bastards if it keeps up...

Beware o' the meanest cat on high seas!

My 500th post.

Wow! My 500th Post!

Where did the time go? It seems like only 499 posts ago I was writing my first post, and as you can see if you followed the link, I have always been cutting edge.

Usually when a department store celebrates a birthday or milestone of some kind, they give out prizes. Well I'm not a fucking department store so there will be no prizes! However there is an award.

Just like Peter Falk, yesterday I tripped over the clues and ended up solving a mystery. You see, Min's comments taken individually were, hmmm... shall we say interesting? But it wasn't until I gathered them all together for my post that I kicked myself (and then whipped myself with a cilice, but that's another story) for not having realised prior to seeing them all in one place that Min had qualified for a Dingo!

Actually she was overqualified! So much so that not only do I need to award and unscheduled Dingo (voting will continue for the regular award), but I also have to award another one for her work in de-constructing comments by constructing her Random Comment Generator.

So it is with great annoyance that I have to award Min not only the standard Dingo, but with additional pique, the Super Dingo (sometimes referred to as the Dingo with batteries, you know kind of like 'the medal with bar').

For being consistently catty, snarky or just plain strange, Min has outshone all her rivals (and let me tell you there are heaps of them out there!).

It is therefore with great pleasure (not as mush as the actual award can give, but still a lot) I award Min of Mama Drama this special unscheduled Dingo.

For her innovative efforts in bringing commenting to a new low, we here at the Dingo are thrilled to present this first ever Super Dingo to Min of Mama Drama.

Her work on the Random Comment Generator was truly remarkable. We just hope she gets as much pleasure from this award as we did while we were checking to see if the batteries worked.

The prodigal dogs

For those who asked, the knuckleheads made it back safely under their own steam. They sought entry into the house to get warm, ha! not likely....

I even made him turn around so I could photograph his disgraceful appearance...

And here's his partner in grime...

At least it wasn't cow shit this time.

BTW, I didn't set that first picture up (I did tell him to turn around for the second one though). Unlike Buzz, Booey, Buddy and even Belle, who all bash the crap out of the front door when they want to come in, you have to be aware of Bentley. He just taps it very lightly and then stands like he is in the first picture until I open the door, which can be a while if I haven't heard him.

Lest We Forget.

Today in Australia we honour those who have given their lives in defense of our freedom. Unlike many countries who choose great victories to remember, we in our own quirky fashion remember Gallipoli which exemplifies the stupidity of war. ANZAC day commemorates all our fallen brethren. My Grandfather and Uncle were killed in WWII,  I will remember them. (which I guess is kinda hard since I never met them)

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

An except from The Fallen by Laurence Binyon (1869-1943).

If you don't believe we're quirky, just take a look at our Navy's flag. The Australian Flag's colour is navy blue, therefore the navy's colour is white! Go figure.

Fuck the Bloggies!

Ok, so I'm a sore loser, I'll admit it. But at least I've got someone to admit it to, not like the majority of the fucking half-arsed blogs who gained nominations for this year's bloggies. While my content may not be spectacular, it is at least all mine, unlike those blogs who use photos and/or text from various sources.

Except for Tabloid Whore (commenting on checkout magazine articles), Post Secret (a good idea but no actual authoring) and Go Fug Yourself (well written but such a narrow focus it gets tedious), the majority of nominated blogs I looked at averaged between 0 and 5 comments per post. What a crock of shit! If they looked like they had a respectable readership I wouldn't be having this rant.

I've only heard of around four of the nominated blogs, and, apart from Ree, those were nominated in multiple categories (Ree was nominated only for best kept secret, despite a very large and very loyal readership). The only Australian blog I recognised was Holtie's Place, g'day Peter and congratulations. The first one I saw in the best Aussie category is by a British girl, but get this, the same blog is also nominated for Best Asian Blog!! What the fuck you morons!

I got a bit suspicious yesterday, before the nominations were posted as I went back over the winners for the last 7 years, and guess what...the same blog won Best Australian blog for 6 of the 7 years, yeah sure! Oh and get this, the reason I was poking around in the first place was because the nominations were delayed a few days because the guy was sick. I was lead to believe that this was a serious affair, instead, it's just a fucking hillbilly wasting my time.

So what I'm saying is this, Nickolai, you're a fucking joke and so are your bullshit bloggies.  And no, I will not be voting. Thank you to all those who took the time and effort to nominate me, but don't bother next year. The whole thing is an embarrassment, and I want no part of it.

**Updated to explain my reasonings after reading some comments, and as a result of the love I'm feeling for your kind support....

What really got me was that when I checked out the nominations, there were quite a number of blogs that had multiple posts with zero comments, my point is this: if their readers aren't motivated enough to even comment, how could they be motivated enough to go to the trouble of filling out the stupid fucking forms to nominate the blog (and I assure you it wasn't an easy thing to do).

On the other hand, I did a 'Miramax/Gwenneth Paltrow' deal and shamelessly cajoled my readers into nominating me, and from the feedback I got (ie comments saying they nominated me), I'm pretty confident that I got more nominations than a lot of those that were selected.

Plus one of the Australian blogs only does reviews of restaurants in Melbourne, isn't that a food blog you fucking dipsticks. I'll say it again, the whole thing is full of shit, and I wouldn't be surprised to find it's some kind of a scam.

While I'm on a roll...here's something I found interesting: Despite Ree having a writing ability and a range of subject matter that would make any aspiring or even professional writer green with envy, and despite having some of the most spectacular photographs featuring all kinds of subjects, she only managed to get nominated for the 'best kept secret' blog (I wonder what the 200+ regulars who comment, not to mention the regulars who don't comment, would think of that). On the other hand, Heather Armstrong, who has put me to sleep many a time with her endless accounts and photographs of Leta, is nominated for best photography, best writing and best blog. What the Fuck?

So in case I have forgotten to mention it, Nickolai, you're full of shit and your bogus bloggies are a fucking joke.

Australia Day

Boy, how unpatriotic of me (it's an Aussie thing, we're not big on the whole patriotism deal) not to mention that it's Australia Day today.

I suppose I should duck out the back and whack a snag on the barby. But first I have to shoot off down the frog and toad and get a slab so I can have a Terry Deer while I'm turning meat into charcoal. And afterwards I'll go visit some rellies and scoff down some lamingtons and pavlova.

Then I'll just sit around in my Reg Grundys scratching my jatz crackers while I watch the idiot box.