it’s all fun and games until someone…

It was Macaroni’s turn for her birthday rollerskating party today
And after the bruise-fest that was Magoo’s party earlier this month, I was a little apprehensive
Diamond was banned for skating all together. The broken ribs PLUS his arm in a sling from rotator cuff surgery last week, made it pretty easy to win that argument.
The day started off awesome by me showing up an hour earlier than the rink even opened,  thanks to my watch (that I haven’t worn in a while) still being on Las Vegas time.
That’s right, I was standing outside the rink, holding balloons and cookie cakes, calling the owner to tear him a new one…..when he politely told me it was 11am.
NOT 12pm
Jesus Talia.
But the party went off without a hitch. All the kids had a great time.
If you don’t count the one little girl who had an anxiety attack because she hadn’t taken her anti-eplilepsy drugs and the flashing disco lights were making her nervous and dizzy. So yeah, there was THAT.

(My fab foray into flash-less birthday party photography continues)

But….in a week that’s seen me attacked by a goat at a children’s farm, almost ruin the tooth fairy myth, see my not-quite-nine-year-old daughter being tall enought to look me in the eye, *lose my car, endure the fuckery that is bra shopping, AND put on ANOTHER 5 pounds…. you know….things are looking up.

On Wednesday…. the UK / Ireland tour starts
Huzzah motherfuckers!

*technically it was where I parked it the whole time….but bra shopping wears me the fuck out y’all and my eyes were TI-YERD!


letters from the airport

This is what happens when I am stuck an airport 7 hours longer than I was supposed to be

Blame American Airlines and the open bar in the lounge

Dear Lady Clearing Your Throat Every 90 Seconds

Can you please just go to the toilet and cough that shit up? It’s kind of gross, and filling my head with images of green goozies. Unless of course you’re a porn star – in which case it’s just a work place injury and I apologise


Dear Young Couple Taking Your FOUR LITTLE KIDS on holidays

My ears hurt. Your children are areholes. Shut those fuckers up.


Dear Man Watching Porn 10 feet Away from Me

I saw you. You saw me see you. Dude…ewwww! Turn off your laptop and go take a cold shower. Yuk.


Dear Dude Skyping His Girlfriend and Crying Because You Miss Her

The fuck? Way to make yourself completely un-rootable. It’s like you WANT her to dump your arse. Harden up, soft cock.


Dear Work Colleagues Flirting Like Mother Fuckers

You are both married. To other people. Don’t be so fucking stupid. You’re both kind of ugly too.

Not. Worth. It.


Dear Old Man Across From Me That Has Fallen Asleep

Bless your little cotton socks, you look so cute. Until you start snoring. Then I’ll probably throw my empty wine glass at you


Dear Ladies Talking Excitedly in Another Language

What are you saying? It’s probably about shopping or muffin recipes. You do look about 70. But it’s making me happy to think that you’re actually vibrator testers, discussing the latest innovations.


Dear Loud Group of Men at the End of The Room

You’re drunk. You’re being obnoxious. Don’t make me get out my guitar.


Dear Lady That Keeps Bringing Me Drinks

I love you.


Dear American Airlines

You suck.

in case of emergency…

I am currently in the middle of day 2, alternating between the couch and my bed


You may well call it the flu, but being the boss of the drama queens won’t allow me to refer to it as anything other than a probably fatal disease contracted from the germy kindergarteners at Magoo’s school computer class that I help with every week

I should say, USED to help with. I’m currently on strike, on account of the horny red headed 6 year old mini-dude that keeps calling me over to his desk to ask me a question and then ‘accidentally’ touching my boobs when I lean over to see his monitor. Turd.

The girls have been home from school yesterday and today as well

They’re better today than yesterday, and should be good-to-go back to school tomorrow

Plus, I’m pretty sure they just have COLDS

And no idea of what it is to be truly, TRULY-RULY suffering

My husband has made soup for me, brought his girls blankets & books and cooked dinner

He’s been completely sympathetic if you don’t count not taking me to the hospital or helping me draft a will, when I’m obviously on my death bed

Anyhoo, even in my darkest hour, my mind thinks of you guys – and what I can do to help YOU despite not one get well / sympathy card from you fuckers

So, in the invent of you finding yourself in my woeful situation, I have compiled a list of MUST HAVE tools for you to not only survive

But possibly thrive…..leading you to be cured, and me to be known throughout the world as the Magic Midget Madam of Miracles!


Firstly, headphones. Preferably noise canceling ones. Not because you want to be able to ignore the outside world and the cries of your starving children. You NEED be able to hear the voice inside your head. The one that tells you that yes, you can eat the last of your husband’s Tim Tams. Even Jesus and death row inmates get to have a last supper.

This lap desk thingy is actually kind of annoying and uncomfortable. But when your husband believes he really outdid himself getting you this as a Christmas gift – you should humor him. It will get you more soup.

Ask your friends on Facebook for book recommendations. Then completely ignore all their advice and download this one. It’s long. Really fucking long. 4 chapters in you will be out like a light. The moral of this story is that a $10 book is cheaper and better for your liver than flu drugs and sleeping tablets. Plus, you can use it every night, it’s not like you’re ever going to finish the fucker

Oh Netflix, what did I ever do before you came into my life? besides sit on my arse WAY less This genius creation allows you to watch years and YEARS of crap old TV shows that you loved as a kid. Movies that you would had NEVER paid a cent to go and see in the theatre. And fall in love with series that you may have otherwise gone through life oblivious too. Tanked, Aryan Brotherhood anyone..??….huh?? Yeah, go get you some of that shit, you know you wanna

Now these, THESE are a must have. Any other time, these tissues with lotion leave a slimy residue on your face – like an invisible snot trail. But in the throws of a mucus-fest, these things are necessary to prevent a red, raw schnoz. And more needless suffering.

Lastly, you’ll need some kind of bubbly soft drink. My Mum says that flat Sprite (or lemonade as we call it in Australia) will always make an upset tummy feel better. I have since since learnt that this old wive’s tale is true. Especially for old wives that like to have a tipple of vodka without the family thinking they’re a drunk catching on. It’ll cure what ails ya. Or, along with the aforementioned book, will render you comatosed

I suggest having all of the above at the ready in case you are ever faced with the flu your own emergency health crisis

Or just call an ambulance


PS – I know I give him shit, but my husband really is the best. Yes, he DID just sit down next to me