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Cojo

Friends, family and colleagues have recently been subjected to a plethora of tales concerning the antics of our neighbours' new, wee kitten - Coco.

Coco is a sweet cat. She is furry and warm. And oh so cute.

But sadly, it has recently become apparent that due to a freak surgical accident during her birth, Coco's soul has been swapped with that of a rabid wilderbeast.

She tactically locates and hunts down everything. Dragonflies. Bindi. Ferns.

I exaggerate not. This is one mad cat. Totally truckin' nutty crackers. And so, in a civil-minded mood, I have published this post, together with a photo of the wanted beast, as public notice to all unsuspecting people... pets... plants... random inanimate objects.

Be alert but not alarmed.

The Coco

cocoralis bananus

(pictured in its native habitat - Bindi's papasan chair)

The Tree

BTW, this is my Christmas tree - 7'3" of unadulterated festive goodness.

Wicked.

Christmas 101

I fully love Christmas. Like heaps. I've experienced quite a few and have come to develop reasonably strong feelings about most aspects of the silly season.

Here is an initial short, punchy list of strong, clear views:

• I actually hate the phrase 'silly season'.
• And I say no to people who write 'xmas'. (Just how lazy are you?)
• You can never have too many fairy lights.
• Or too much tinsel - though it should be tastefully colour-matched.
• Presents are exciting but scary; and far more fun to give than to get. (Due to that scariness factor referred to earlier).

More mindless Christmas banter to follow shortly. 'Til then, stay chipper and good.... 'cause he's waaaatchiiiiiing!

2 Much Booty (In Da Pants)

So maybe I AM the only dag in this country who is regularly tuning into 'So You Think You Can Dance", but dang(!), check out these moves right here.

They are so hot. Maan, you don't even know.

You don't even know, maaaan!

You don't even KNOW!!!

Just One More Happy Camper

Five minutes ago I was one narky little chicken. But not now. Oh no. Five minutes ago I wanted stark revenge and painful retribution. But all that rage has since magically vanished.

That's right, I've put on a 'happy face'. The face that sunk a thousand witty comebacks and saved many a precarious relationship from a looming, earth-shattering kaboom. "Ooooh... what a happy wee face you have there!" say my many imaginary Irish friends as I try to slap them with potatoes.

Well, I tell you what Paddy, if I was true to myself, I'd publish the hard-core vent I've just saved as a draft. But my annoyingly wise and level-headed hubby has advised against it citing professional repercussions and potential legal suits.

So here I am. Sitting. Festering. With my hippity-hap-hap-happy face on.

30 Movember, 2200 hours

Hey there Pedro!

My face couldn't say it better - it truly IS surprising how quickly Movember passed by, isn't it?

But don't be sad my little munchkin. Movember 07 will rumble around before you can say, "Eh, Baxter, where my enchilada at? Tanto muchacho!!! Andale andale!!"

And so, until we meet again ol' friend. Farewell sweet mo. Godspeed.

So Busted-o

In a controversial move, a certain Sunshine Coast mo-grower (referred to only as Mr Bitchino) has ditched his 'tache some 6 days prior to the end of Movember.

Despite futile attempts to brush off speculation, one-time supporters of the 'tache are now concerned that the full-bodied mo they had come to admire may, in fact, have been nothing more than an elaborate, stubble-combover scam.

When publicly questioned about his latest facial incarnation, Mr Bitchino reportedly explained his actions by saying, "I fell down and my mo fell off".

Hmmmm...


Troubling times.

Raw Eggs

I'm quite regularly overcome by the sheer wrongness of some things in this strange, strange world. And so it came to pass that this all-new-and-improved category of posts was spawned.


Kicking off are raw eggs.

I really hate raw eggs. Like, REALLY.

I am terrified of eggnog, and suspicious of moist cakes.

They are SO wrong, I don't even know how to say it. But a few words come to mind:

• Slime
• Dodgy smell
• Blood spots
• Possible baby chickens

Admit it. You're going to think twice the next time someone offers you an overeasy toad-in-the-hole*.

*Wikipedia notes the following similar names for this traditional egg/bread combo. Try to pick my favourite: frog in the pond, bird's nest, birdie in a basket, eggs in a basket, eggs in frames, peek-a-boo eggs, holey toast, egg in a hole, bullseye toast, one-eyed jack, egg in a window, egg on a raft, man on a raft, paddy egg, castle'd egg, special egg, knothole egg, Popeye egg, Egyptian eyes, one eyed egyptian sandwich, gibbly's willies, eggy bread, scout eggs (US Boy Scouts), "eggs with hats on top" and "eggy in the basket"