Men Are Fucken Pillocks

Had to top last weekend.

Thursday night we have a general argument.

Friday I write him a letter.

Friday night he reads my letter and still chooses to go out for a beer with some buddies in Christchurch rather than talk out our issues. In our conversations pre him leaving for his night out I hound him to tell me whether he still finds me attractive. After much pressure he admits that he does and he doesn't. My weight is finally taking it's toll on the way he views me.

I get mad.

Then I get sad.

He leaves.

Then I get a text saying he loves me and always will.

I let him know I love him too but I am not prepared to go on like this.

I get a phone call at 4am.

He doesn't know where he is, he is in his car, he can't get out of the door. He just wants to be home. I hear a car. I hear it getting closer and closer. I feel my tummy flip as it gets too close, then whizzes past. He is right on the side of the road somewhere. He gets out the other door, still talking to me. He waves another car down.

It's the police.

He's had an accident, fallen asleep at the wheel, veered across the road and ended up in a hedge. He was supposed to stay in town at a friends place. He is over the limit, immediately loses his license and is off to court.

He gets home around 5am.

A couple of hours later I go to find the car, when I do find it I also see an ambulance and police car there. Another driver has slowed down to see if anyone injured and the guy following her has literally veered over the top of her car, flipped and landed upside down in a very deep ditch. He is taken to hospital with facial injuries.



When I climb across broken glass to driver's seat I freak out. Above the steering wheel, about one mm from the windscreen, right at the level of one's head, is a massive branch about 10cm in diameter. If he had gone in one smidgen more he would have either been dead or severely injured.

Get car home with help from some friends, the passenger window has been kicked in and all his carpentry tools stolen. Thousands of dollars worth.

He is very quiet.

He is very sorry.

But it's me who has to pay.

I have to get up and drive his sorry arse to work early in the morning as he works out in the country and works by himself.

We have fines, loss of license, have to buy all his tools again so he can work and, if i don't want to have to spend an hour everday picking him up and dropping him off, we have to try and apply for a work permit for him to work at the cost of a grand.

MEN ARE FUCKEN PILLOCKS

Men Are Geeks

So why don't we take the kids to the river for a swim, take the 4WD through the river and think we are cool men???

How about we do it with four kids in the truck??

Shall we misjudge the depth of the river and plough nose deep into a big hole?

Then we could pass the older three kids out the back of the truck then completely forget about them while we concentrate on getting the three year old who is screaming out??

Whoops, what if those three kids that were already out weren't thinking straight in this sort of panic situation and instead of walking back from where they came in the river walked to the closest side which was straight into the big hole?

And let's just say that the 7 year old who couldn't swim got picked up by the current and swept away?

Wouldn't it be lucky if he managed to grab the front bullbar so he didn't drown??

Wonder it it would be a good idea to get Jules to come get the kids, she can cross the bridge and see her 4WD nose deep in the river and not freak the fuck out!!

Then shall she arrive just in time to see the truck pulled out with help of a fellow man and then see the doors open with cascades of water waterfalling out??

Wouldn't it be priceless if it then cost $1,152 to fix??

MEN ARE GEEKS!!

Dear Inventor Of Duraseal,

What the fuck were you thinking when you invented this shit??

As if mothers don't have enough time consuming tasks to complete without having to cover over 30 books with the most impractical shit ever invented.

My very recent experience (until 1.12am this morning!!) had me encounter the following issues:

1. Getting the wrapping off the duraseal, anyone would think this gold the way it's so securely cling wrapped!!

2. Then I come across the sellotape to keep the roll in roll format (as if the over zealous cling wrap wasn't enough to do this??). Is this possibly THE stickiest sellotape in the world? It nearly peeled the duraseal off it's sticky backing just trying to get it off. As I had six rolls of duraseal to open last night I could of a) not had to contend with the five mins each bit of sellotape took to take off and b) not had to contend with the sticky residue the stickiest tape in the world left on the duraseal so that I ended up having to place the name labels in bizarre places to cover these sticky anomalies!!

3) How long do these rolls actually stay rolled before being released upon the unsuspecting public?? I found it a near impossible feat to keep the fucken roll unrolled!! If I didn't lay something heavy on one end I would never haven managed to cut off any sections!!

4) Do you wankers even consider the size of exercise books when you size up these rolls?? There was always a 10 - 15 cm excess at the end of the roll, over 6 rolls that is plenty of wasted bloody duraseal that would only be able to cover books for smurfs.

5) What is with the difficulty levels in being able to actually separate the backing paper from the duraseal? Is this meant to just fuck me off, cos it does!! And then 3 times out of ten, when I peeled off the backing, it had actually taken the stickiness on the backing paper, leaving the actual duraseal as sticky satin sheets!!

6) Why the bloody hell does the duraseal ALWAYS end up with air bubbles in it??? No bloody matter how slowly and definitively I placed and rolled the books onto the duraseal I would always end up with frickin bubbles.

If you were that bloody brilliant in inventing shit you would have just approached the manufacturers of exercise books and come up with an offer to add your product to their books during production so us poor haggard mothers could just buy the bloody things all ready to go, even with name labels already on them (now that's thinking outside the square!!) and all we would have to do is write the midget's name, class and subject on each one and that would be it.

So next time you are thinking of inventing a sticky, completely user-unfriendly product, think again, or I may just go postal on your arse!!

Yours faithfully

Mrs Outspoken

How to Win Friends and Influence People

Was down at the local pub.

"Let's go into Harringtons" was the call.

I was, typically, with all blokes.

Harringtons was an out of the way pub in town that brewed their own beers etc, one being Ngahere Gold, which has since been forbidden to be sold in kegs because a young guy died after drinking too much of it at once.

After a jug of Ngahere the memory of the night was gone.

Didn't remember leaving Harringtons with all me bloke buddies, didn't remember going to Fat Ladies which was on the other side of town.

Didn't remember getting hooked into a certain someone in the carpark outside Fat Ladies, who had a girlfriend and who always beelined for me when I was horrendously pissed.

First memory after arriving at Harrington's was me trying to kick the window of a car in the Fat Ladies carpark that closely resembled my own car. A couple of minutes until I realised it wasn't. Thank fuck I hadn't actually managed to break it.

Another couple of minutes of disorientation until I realised that I was in fact standing there in my bra with my trousers on.

Another 15 minutes of searching the carpark for my top, with no joy.

Oh shit, where is my wallet??

So, here I am standing in the middle of town at 2am in the morning, drunk, no top, no wallet and apparently - no car either!!!!

What can I do??

A passing couple decided to call me a cab.

Cab driver refused to take me anywhere as I had no wallet.

Can you call a friend??

Only person I knew that could help me out without killing me (eg no parents to be involved)was Linda.

Ring ring.

"If I bring this young lady to your house will you pay for her taxi upon arrival? She has no top on and no wallet"

Thanks Linda.

When I arrived at Linda's she wasn't too happy with me.

Why??

She was getting married in the morning.

Whoops!!!

New Zealand Has Lost It #1

New Zealand has recently instated a law that means that you can no longer smack your children in any way shape or form. You can tell them to go to time out but you can not make them go. You can not discipline your own children. Now, whether you agree with smacking or not, take this case into account:


When Christchurch musician Jimmy Mason "flicked" his three-year-old son on the ear he thought he was giving him a lesson about road safety. Don't ride your bike near the road when you're told not to. What he was actually getting was a firsthand look at the Government's anti-smacking legislation in operation, The Dominion Post writes.


A nearby teacher took umbrage at his actions, an off-duty policewoman rang the office and, minutes later, Mr Mason found himself surrounded by six police officers.

"They were going to arrest me and were trying to ascertain whether it was safe for the kids to go home with me," he said. "It was pretty bizarre."
.....
But nothing that Mr Mason did appears to warrant the attention of six police officers, at least five more than the ordinary citizen can expect to show an interest when reporting a theft, burglary or assault.

This man's two boys disobeyed them in a busy part of Christchurch resulting in an accident involving their bikes. This could have easily resulted in death by one of his children being hit by a car. He flicks one son across the ear as he is attempting to head back off and do the same thing again while he consoles hurt child. Next minute he is surrounded by police.

For fuck's sake.

My sister was the victim of burglary on New Years Day. Some arrogant wankers broke into their house, stole a shit load of personal items, made a mess and violated their privacy. It took 2 days for one policeman to show up!!

In Auckland a couple of years ago a young woman phoned police for help as she was getting unwanted attention from a male at a party and didn't know what to do, they sent a taxi - and to the wrong side of Auckland. The woman was never seen again.

For fuck's sake.

What is happening in a country when lolly scrambles are outlawed but you can beat your child to death with a boat oar over a three day period and get 8 years with parole in 4??

Bullrush is too dangerous.

I think climbing trees is illegal now too.

For fuck's sake.

Bring on June, I can't wait to escape this nanny state.

The Hideous Truth

It's out there, in all it's fucken hideous glory.

Go to Gluten Free Geisha to see the damage I have done to myself.

As for the tits, see the post below.

Hot Shit/Cold Fart

You've heard of What's Hot and What's Not columns??

Well this is my version.

Hot Shit:

Phoenix Organic Cola made with natural cola nut, organic cane sugar, lemon juice and carbonated water. It tastes divine and was on special at Woolies for $6 a four pack this week!!



Hollie Smith

NZ's soul diva, a pocket sized full of attitude and personal power, she has the best voice I've heard in an age. Shes sexy and tattooed up:



Healtheries Chamomile and Honey Herbal Tea

Tastes divine and completely chills this bitch out:



Cold Farts

Neighbours with Pidgeons

What the fuck is up with your fucken fat dirty birds and their insistence on coming and shitting on my house, washing and everywhere else on my property? I have no guilt in sending my dog out to run after them. I will yell "get those fucken birds" and will feel no shame in doing so, especially as you have no shame in burning your rubbish in a drum at my back fence every bloody day. Next week you are likely to get a flipping hose pointed your way.


Having a Disability and Milking It

Okay, may cop some flack for this one, but I was at the docs yesterday and a chick in a wheelchair who had cerebral palsy, (now I am no doctor but had a friend with it when I was younger and my experience with her and Steady Eddy led me to believe that this is what it was)was just leaving at the same time as me. She got a hand out the door, said she couldn't pay her bill, well mumbled it but you could understand what she was saying, and then proceeded to leave. As I drove past I saw her using her feet to pull herself along the footpath in her chair and I felt really sorry for her, thinking she may have no use of her hands and their the bitch was texting on her mobile phone!! No money to pay the doc but plenty to be texting aye??? Aye?? Okay that was a bit harsh but still?

Trade Me Losers

We have trade me in NZ, you elsewhere may have eBay, they are all the same. On Trade Me I currently have a tent that has been barely used for sale. It didn't sell on first listing but had over 50 "watchers" who I offered the tent to for a grand at the close of auction. A couple denied and the other 45 or so just didn't bother! So I relisted with a wee comment at the bottom about not offering to watchers this time, your choice to bid or not, blah diddy blah and this fuckwit left a comment saying that people can watch if they want and it doesn't mean they have to bid and I am probably overpriced anyway and he was going to become a watcher just out of curiousity, in other words to fuck me off. And it fucken did. I replied with a lot of restraint and if you want to hear what I said then you'll have to go to the auction here and look at comments at bottom.


As a side note, have posted shit about my fat arse and my attempts at making it less fat over at Gluten Free Geisha.

Dumbfounded

So, apparently, you can buy plots of land on the moon. I saw it on 60 minutes tonight.

What the fuck??

A guy in Arizona decided to write to the Russian and United States governments informing them that he was putting in a land claim on the moon. He never heard anything back so has been selling assorted sized plots - and the bugger has earnt himself 9 million so far.

I don't know what disturbs me more, the fact that there is a looney out there making a legitimate living out of selling parts of the moon, or the fact that there are that many fricking thick heads that have paid out CASH for a section on the moon. Good luck getting building consents!! Or a plumber!!