Clearly this little ol’ space of the interwebs is ALL ABOUT ME.
And cause you clicked on that button obviously you want to know more…
Who are you?
I am Kelley. I am awesome. The end.
The longer version is I am a mother of 3 living in BumFuck Nowhere Australia.
My hobbies are contracting mysterious and exotic diseases (I have had 2 strokes – that I know of – torn my Achilles twice doing housework, had whooping cough AND glandular fever at the same time and have a penchant for belly explosions resulting in emergency surgeries and that is just in the last couple of years) watching All the Housewives of All of the Places, throwing elaborate birthday parties that render me almost catatonic afterwards and mocking people wearing leggings as pants.
I am currently on a sabbatical from my high pressured job (read: took time off cause I was about to go postal) to try and fix my head and ferry my kid to 2 different schools. Technically I am a carer but I am pretty sure that I need someone to come and care for me.
And massage my feet.
And dust my massive shoe collection.
That I don’t wear any more but still continue to collect even though I am not working.
Shhhhhh… don’t tell my husband. He thinks I spend the money on groceries and medication.
What is the deal with your kids?
The Damn Emos are also known as Moo and Too and they are now ADULTS and live out of home. I miss those bitches.
Boo is my forever toddler who towers over me and has just started highschool at a mainstream AND a specialist school. On paper he has moderate to severe Autism, Hyperlexia and OCD. Everywhere else he is fucking awesome and a butthead.
You must be old to have adult children.
Fuck off. I had kids young. Far too fucking young.
Wait till you are thirty. Or at least out of your teens.
Are you married?
Yes. My current husband *snigger* is MPS. MPS stands for Mario Porn Star cause he grew a mustache for MOvember and looked like Super Mario was coming to clean my pool.
He is under the impression that it stands for My Personal Slave.
And yes, he is the father to all three of my children.
What does Magneto Bold Too mean?
I get this question a lot. Short version is Boo was obsessed with fonts.
He knows every single font EVER.
A font savant if you will.
And at the time of starting this blog his favourite was Magneto Bold.
So I wanted him to think I was as fabulous as Magneto Bold.
I wanted to be Magneto Bold Too.
Turns out Magneto Bold is a damn fucking ugly font and I should have done my research first.
What the fuck is onomatopoeia and why are people saying that in your comments?
They are referring to this post where I suggested if they don’t know what to say they say onomatopeia.
Read the damn post. I am far to busy and important to repeat myself.
Can I send you stuff?
Sure. I am currently in need of a car and cash.
(email me at magnetoboldtoo at gmail dot com or use my contact form if you would like to send me your products. I will only accept items with no obligation to blog about them. IF I do end up loving your product/service I will sing it from the rooftops, that way my readers know that I am not blowing smoke up their arse for a free mascara.
I have like, integrity and shit.)