One dead hamster

Equals one inconsolable six year old

Fuck

R.I.P. Buddy

Coming back to Oz so close to Christmas

Was a perfect opportunity to bring pressies for my family and friends WITH me

Instead of sending them, like I do every year

Hence me traveling with a bazillion cases

Today I am in Alice Springs, on my way to Granites (for 2 shows)

So I didn’t NEED to bring all the suitcases WITH me here

Luckily, I was able to leave the EXTRA cases in Melbourne (thanks Graeme) and I’ll get them back later in the week, when I come back for the CROWN shows

I had all my own stuff scattered in amongst the Chrissy pressies – to try and even out the weight of all the toys ‘n shit I had packed

So responsible and organised, hey?

Of course not – this IS ME we’re talking about here

I am sitting in my Alice Springs hotel room

With a suitcase and a guitar

The guitar is a win

The suitcase? Fuck.

I’m sure it comes as a surprise to NO ONE, that I brought a suitcase with me based on, “…yep, that’s the black one with all my work clothes and stuff I need in it”

Yep, wrong black suitcase

I have shoes, toys, books, DVDs and toiletries

What I do NOT have, is clothes

Nope

No work clothes, regular clothes, pyjamas or fucking underwear

I will be going commando until further notice continue to amaze myself

 

I took the girls horse riding a few weeks ago

They loved it

La-la-la-lurved it!

And because I’m a genius and a manipulative mummy

I decided to use that love to my advantage

I made a chart

And promised the girls another day of horse riding

If their chart was filled with only ticks

From doing chores, homework and generally being full of asweomeness

They said no worries

As long as “I” went horse riding with them

I said sure

I was probably drunk at the time

I’m sure it’s a surprise to no one that I am not equestrianly inclined

But why the fuck not, hey?

Why the fuck not, indeed

Check me out

I couldn’t look more uncomfortable than if I was parading down the catwalk in a swimsuit at the Miss World pageant

With an unwaxed vajay-jay

Yep, THAT’s how uncomfortable I was

If you look closely you might even see some wee running down my leg

My horse’s name was Harley Spotty Botton

I called him Dot Bum

He was a sweety

And I tried to love it

But it just wasn’t my favourite

It’s not his fault I can’t relax when my fanny bone is get bounced around the park

(insert fanny bone getting bounced joke here)

Plus he kept walking me under trees

Which meant branches were whacking my in the head and I probably have brain damage

So apparently the love wasn’t mutual

At least I won’t ever have to do it again

Ever

I know this because…

Although I’d been around horses before

Until yesterday, I don’t think I’d ever ‘touched’ a horse

Yesterday, by the time I got off the horse

I was scratching like a mofo

And had hives

HIVES I say!!

I’m allergic to fucking horses

I had hives everywhere

I wish I was joking

Every-fucking-where!

Like, ON MY EYEBALLS!

No, you can’t see that pic.

 

Never too young I say

“..that’s it pumpkin…work those legs

Mama’s got you sugar

And I put a little extra diaper cream on too

Those dollar bills can leave a nasty paper cut”

Talk about a recession proof retirement fund!