This probably explains a lot

I thought I would share some of an email doing the rounds for those of us born in the 40's, 50's and 60's. It tells how we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us and lived in houses made of asbestos. They took aspirin, ate blue cheese, raw egg products, loads of bacon and processed meat, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes or cervical cancer. As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags. We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle. Take away food was limited to fish and chips, no pizza shops, McDonalds, KFC, Subway or Nandos. Even though all the shops closed at 6.00pm and didn't open on the weekends, somehow we didn't starve to death! We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this. We would spend hours building our go-carts out of old prams and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. We built tree houses and dens and played in river beds with matchbox cars. We did not have Playstations, Nintendo Wii, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 999 channels on SKY, No video/DVD films, No mobile phones, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms...........WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them! And as you can see from this video, that's why we're so screwed up. Now try getting that song out of your brain.

A woman's right to change her mind

Is it just me or do other people cut and run?

When I think of the amount of things I haven't finished or seen through to the end I've come to the realisation that I just seem to change my mind a lot. I've started so many courses, have a few incomplete qualifications, and can say 'hello, my name is..' in a least 5 different languages but not much beyond that. Come to think of it I have unfinished knitting in the cupboard, I have a half written novel somewhere on the computer and my fish curry tonight was definitely underdone. It's lucky I haven't got married. I would have got halfway up the aisle and gone 'hhmmm...maybe not', turned around and gone back.

The Quiet Ones

He's kidding me, right?

The Quiet Ones

Have you heard about this flu called swine? Terrible business. Filthy. Comes from pigs I believe, sneezing on people. Originated in the middle ages I guess, when people spent too much time with pigs with bad colds. Now we give our pigs antibiotics so they don't catch cold and give people the flu. Nasty, very nasty.

'Ideal Gift for Mum' the advertisement reads with this woman standing proudly behind her new portable, flat folding Handy Line. We're told that it's the original and the best. Perhaps it is but if I was your mother and you gave me a portable clothes line for Mothers Day I would tell you where to jam it because your mother is not your maid, your domestic servant or even slightly concerned about your drying underpants. She deserves better on Mothers Day. By all means buy yourself a clothes line, buy two if you like, but if I had bought this for my mother you would have found me impaled on it in the backyard on the second Sunday in May.

Not a successful day of shopping. I'm loathed to spend more than I need to on makeup. Paying over $30 for sparkly talcum powder seems just plain stupid really when I could be spending that money on something edible I can shove down my face. So I had breakfast at Mr Tulk and settled in with my scrambled eggs and coffee and the newspaper. I like to bring my own paper to cafe's because I'm not fond of pages stuck together with jam or someone else's sourdough crumbs rolling into my lap. I was just coming to the end of the travel section and sizing up the remainder when a junior thing leans over my shoulder and rips the weekend magazine from under my pile and strides off. I looked around but she got away or blended into the crowd. Now even I've made the mistake of newspaper assumptions but have always checked with the nearest occupier as to the ownership before whizzing off with someone's daily read. Such lack of manners I thought. In future I must remember to nail my newspaper to the goddam table before some slip of thing comes takes off with the effing thing.

The Quiet Ones

But why does he do that mum? Why doesn't someone tell him that he's...
Never mind dear, we just need to mind our own business.
But mum surely if someone just told him it wasn't there, people would stop saying things about him and pointing at him.
Look I'm sure he's a very nice man, he's certainly very fit, I think he could be quite appealing. Certainly he attracts a lot of female interest.
Yeah right mum, about as appealing as a hot date with Phil Spector.
Enough now, there's people coming.

The Quiet Ones

Tosser.

The Quiet Ones

Hugghhhhh!

The Quiet Ones

Bastards they are. Crapping all over the place. Someone should shoot them I say, I say what? Damn them. Never mind the bloody sunshine, it just brings them out, damn vermin they are, flying vermin. Did anyone see those blighters that took my jeep. Left me with the bloody door they did. Damn and blast them all to buggery. I say. I say, is that Mr Whippy?

The Quiet Ones

Oh listen to him going on about the weather. Just enjoy it I say. A bit of sunshine never hurt anyone. A glorious day, children playing, the dogs are out enjoying themselves, Melbourne at its finest. I just wish this bow around my neck was just a little less tight. Is there someone I can speak to about this? I've seen terrible injuries done with a too tight bow. I'm not one to complain, really. I'm all for formality when one is out and about, wearing one's Sunday best etc., but something a little less restricting perhaps? I'm not asking to pop on a tracksuit or anything, I know one must represent certain things, not patriotically speaking, and don't get me started on that, we all know where that can lead!!

The Quiet Ones

Another dreadful hot day, when will it end. I might be made out of brass or something but I still feel the heat you know. No rain again. They promised rain. More screaming kids, it must be school holidays again, do they ever go to school these days. And they let them hang off this poor tree behind me. I planted that tree you know and there they go pretending not to know that their son, or is it daughter I can never tell these days just stomped all over that garden bed. I wish it would rain. I wonder what John is doing, he likes this damn heat.