Regardless of your parental status, have a fucking awesome day today biatches.

I shall be spending the day being worshipped in the manner I have requested.  You know as soon as Boo gets off the computer, Moo wakes up from her deathbed and MPS gets out of the toilet.

And I shall be posting pics of all my bribes gifts and spoilage on my facebook page. Like me there cause I would totes love to get to one billion facebook likers by the end of the day.

MOTHERfucking HUZZAH!

Happy Mothers Day is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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As you get older it is the simple things that make you the happiest.

A hug.

A call while waiting for your train just to say hi, and I miss you.

A cake made of donuts sprinkled with maple glazed bacon OMG YES I AM TOTALLY MAKING IT TODAY!

An ipad

Breakfast made for you and the kitchen cleaned up afterwards.

Seeing the bottom of the laundry basket.

Not dying.

Today is my birthday and I will spend it with Boo and MPS.

The Damn Emos are not here today but if they could they would be and that is all that I ever need.

I will just lounge around and eat and drink coffee and demand cuddles constantly because it is my birthday.

Boo: for you. As many as I can hold in my hands.

My present:  Flowers Boo brought in for me to make me happy when I was feeling sad, on canvas.

If you are in Victoria, South Australia, Tasmania or Canberra enjoy the Public holiday that I organised for you to celebrate my birthday.

You are welcome.

The simple things is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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I am stuck driving in my car around 2 and a half hours a day.

That gives me a LOT of time to think.

As I am not a fan of the thoughts in my head lately, I choose to sing like a motherfucking BOSS in my car.

My tastes are somewhat eclectic and governed by what MPS has in his doof doof* program and what I have acquired through various means.

And I have no fucking idea how to drive iTunes {it has been explained to me ad nauseum but alas my farting brain chooses not to play along and the information settles just beyond my recall}

Today, on the way home from drop off, in between screaming at drivers to get off the motherfucking road and losing my shit at fuckers that speed up as you try and pass them OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG I rocked to a little:

Kids in America – Kim Wilde

Breakaway – Big Pig

Word Up - Cameo (mesmerised by is um… outfit…)

Sweet Child o mine - Guns and Roses (OMG THE song of my final year of high school. I remember where I was when I first heard this – getting off a bus on a school trip…)

{links to youtube clips for your enjoyment or so you can re-inact me driving or you can throw down some dance moves in your kitchen}

Along with some Adele, Madonna (obviously) and little Nirvana.

So do you sing like a motherfucking Boss in your car or do you have somewhere else where your dulcet tones make Angels cry?  Alternatively, what song gets you rocking out?

I need to add to my playlist…

*technical term for DJ equipment.

I am a phenomenal singer. In my car. I also dance like Baryshnikov in my kitchen. If he was a member of the Pussy Cat Dolls. Obviously. is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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Alternative title: my first Mr Linky memey thing for mah girl Kim

Cause I am feeling the love…

Fuck I love that kid.

She is awesome. She even surpassed MY awesomeness and that is crazy hard. is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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OMG motherfucking bliss, biatches.

To paraphrase Tom Jones: I think I’m gunna sleep now… is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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Moo hooked us up with the series Better Off Ted.

And because it only ran two seasons we have been rationing ourselves.

Like fine wine and Max Brenner chocolate (I have run out BTW, just putting that out there… and I should totally be sponsored by Max Brenner considering I have converted half of Twitter to his crack) we savoured every morsel and yesterday we watched the final episode.

Sad face.

Fucking awesome series.

I guess I have enjoyed it more than most as ‘the company’ is eerily like my own workplace.

And I aspire to be Veronica.

Anyway.  For your viewing pleasure.  Just a taste.

Again, warning it is full of swears.

I am pretty sure that I could get away with calling one of my colleagues a peppy little splooge vacuum.  It is terribly descriptive of her and if I do it with a straight face I am pretty sure I can convince her to get it as a tramp stamp.

I can be very convincing.

Totally Not Safe For Work. Or parrots. Or incontinent people. Or small children. But then again if you are reading this you are clearly not a childlike incontinent parrot in a cube farm. Probably. is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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I have a pair of shoes.

Well, technically I have a metric fuck tonne of shoes, but I have one pair in particular that I call my Happy Shoes.

When I wear these shoes I feel happy.

I look down and I smile.

My Happy Shoes Just. Make. Me. Happy.

They are not that expensive, they are not that fancy, they are just fucking PRETTY and they make me smile.

Today I wore my Happy Shoes.

I woke up, after a night full of bad dreams and sleeplessness.

A night of sore throats and snuffly noses.

And realised that I haven’t worn my Happy Shoes since BEFORE The Big Bad Thing.

So, today, on Boo’s first full day of his Specialist School I put on my Happy Shoes.

And every time something annoyed me:

Like forgetting his enrolment papers

Or getting to work late and having to reschedule meetings

Or a petty bitch letting the door go and not holding it open for me

Or being overcharged for Boo’s celebratory First Day Down hot dog (fuck me dead EIGHT BUCKS FOR A FUCKING HOT DOG DONUT KING?)

Or the guy chopping down our trees obviously deciding to take today off so meaning the fucker will be hanging around tomorrow while I am at home

I just looked down at my happy shoes and smiled.

Everyone needs some Happy Shoes.

Happy Shoes fucking ROCK.

My Happy Shoes. is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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Once upon a time there was a fair maiden.

Yes, this fair maiden.

But she had now graduated to Goddess of Awesome.

And the Goddess of Awesome {GOA} was preparing to share her awesomeness with a few of her lucky subjects at a ‘conference’.

Which GOA was pretty sure was code for ‘surprise party to celebrate the awesomeness of the Goddess who had a birthday the week before’.

Obviously.

One day GOA was sitting at her computer and her minions loyal subjects noticed change of tone from her usual brilliant repartee on the Twitter.

‘Oh Goddess, what is wrong?  Do you need a foot rub?  A tweet? Perhaps a blog post dedicated in your honour?’

GOA looked down at her faithful friends and was all *sigh*

Which worried her subjects immensely.

‘Oh Goddess, how can we help?’

GOA sighed again, a little more dramatically this time, you know for effect as this was an important issue of EPIC proportions ‘I know you have done everything in your power to finance my trip, but alas because of the universes penchant for parking its arse over my head and emptying the contents of its lower bowel on my perfectly coiffed head, there is not enough gold left in the kingdom to buy some new pretty shoes to wear to the Dinner Dance!’

This saddened the minions loyal followers, as they knew that it had been days weeks MONTHS since a new pair of lovelies graced their Goddesses feet.

Little did GOA know that, as well as being the Goddess of everything AND the Queen of the Internet and being one of the chosen few being followed by Stephen Fry on twitter (and MC Hammer, but she doesn’t follow him back.  She saves her tweets for her Subjects of Awesome and not some dirty has-been rapper) AND the bestest at everything she attempts…

she also had a fairy godmother.  Named Hannah.  Which is the perfect name for a fairy godmother.

Hannah was just waiting for the perfect moment to descend from high and make her presence known.

Meanwhile, GOA was lamenting her fate, sadly looking in her wardrobe at all the shoes that she could no longer wear due to THE INCIDENTS that we do not mention.  Sky high heels lovingly placed in their boxes, never to see the light of day again.

It was almost too much for GOA to bear, so she dramatically flung herself on her bed Scarlett O’Hara style for dramatic effect.

Once she was done, which was pretty quickly seeing the only audience she had was Boo who saw her fling herself on her bed and immediately thought she was asleep and ran into the kitchen to smear his body in mustard, she sat down in front of her laptop.

Hundreds of emails awaited her.  Twitter follow requests from huge breasted girls wanting to share links to porn sites, emails inviting her to increase the size of her manhood, Princes promising to share their kingdoms wealth if she just hides the money in her bank account for a few weeks, party invites from Charlie Sheen… but one caught her eye.

From someone called Hannah.

Hannah wanted to give her shoes. To wear to the Dinner Dance at the conference.

SHOES.

OMG SHOES!

It was almost too good to be true, but she clicked on the link to ladies shoes and NEARLY KEELED OVER FROM THE RAPTURE OF IT ALL.

She fell in love with these.

And then these.

And these and these…

And OMG LOOK AT THESE!

And just when she was reaching shoe climax the heavens opened and the angels sang when she saw these…

‘Oh please, Hannah, may I have THESE ONES?’ The goddess begged, her fingers shaking as she typed, dreaming of the beautiful shoes encasing her feet at the ball.

And Hannah the Fairy Godmother nodded her head. Well GOA assumes she did, with elegance and style because a Goddess of Awesome CLEARLY has a very elegant and stylish Fairy Godmother not like that fat old lady in Cinderella.

And she had the good sense to not offer glass slippers, cause glass slippers are just plain stupid.

A few days later they arrived by noble steed.  Well it was a white van, driven by an old hairy guy that smelled like cheese.  BUT LETS NOT RUIN THE ILLUSION.

GOA dropped everything and opened the parcel and the shoes were everything she dreamed of.

And fell madly, deeply in love.

She wore them for 2 days straight.

Stares of appreciation and awe followed her where ever she went.

People asking where could THEY get shoes of such awesomeness, but because GOA is a SECRET BLOGGER and no one in real life is aware of her online awesomeness lest they explode with jealously or kidnap her so they can wear her skin as a simple but stylish Autumn coat, she could not direct them to the website through her blog and had to try and remember the url.

Because being the Goddess of Awesome comes at a high price.  It means that others will want to emulate you.

Bright green snake skin heels will be the new little black dress.

You heard it first here.

From the doyenne of fashion and pretty much EVERYTHING.

{yes, full disclosure, I received these shoes for FREE. With the promise of ONE link (and a link in my sidebar for a pre-determined time) The other links earn me nothing they are just swoonable shoes and at no time did Hannah request that I call her elegant nor stylish.  I just assume that cause she has a job that GIVES AWAY SHOES.  If you want to give me a new car I will call you any damn thing you want}

Once upon a time: A love story. Of snakeskin shoes and fairy godmothers. is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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In the movie The Castle the father – the ever optimist – sits on the porch of his run down shack in the middle of nowhere, the only sound being bugs vaporising in the bug zapper above his wife’s head, and sighs ‘Hows the serenity’

Today, on the first day back at school after eight weeks of hell school holidays, the only sound the rain on the roof and the hum of the refrigerator, I am channelling a little of my inner bogan and running around the house sans pants screaming ‘HELLZ YEAH HOW IS THE FUCKING SERENITY BITCHES WOOOOO HOOOOOO!’

I love my children.

I really do.

Really really REALLY.

But when you go eight weeks of non stop Boo – all Boo, all the time -  the first day back at school knowing that he is safe and happy with his friends is like being released from prison.

A prison full of grabby touchy TALKING ALL THE FUCKING TIME OMG OMG OMG PLEASE CAN WE CHANGE THE SUBJECT JUST ONCE  people that touch your stuff and smear butter all over your just cleaned kitchen and then shit and toothpaste in the motherfucking hallway and constantly checking to make sure you are wearing a bra.

That’s a thought.  SANS BRA AND PANTS BIATCHES!

Hows the serenity…

Um…

Shit.

I think I miss him.

************************

In no particular order, today I sing the praises of my girl Gillian from A Daft Scot Lass who is one of the amazing people helping me realise my dream of leaving the state urinating in public going to the Aussie Bloggers Conference.  She even wrote a post about me!  Click on her blog and sent her some love!

She has some fucking AMAZING taste in shoes, just check out her header

MWAH!

Hows the serenity… is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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It is after midnight.

The marauding Emo hordes have just left resplendent in their Halloween garb for the local bars and clubs.

The house smells like a toilet, there is a mud slide carved into my yard, food everywhere and Boo is bouncing off the walls in his room.

But I survived.

Two Parties In One Day 2010 is over.

I am fucking exhausted.

And in the mornin’, I’m making waffles.

and coffee… lots and lots of coffee.

Over. is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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