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Monday, November 23, 2009

All about pee.


Yerknow I was thinking while taking my shower, that we [as Australians] have a lot of meanings to the word piss besides the taking of one.

Piss OFF before I punch yer head in…a direction when angered.
Oh piss off, yer takin the piss!…disbelief at a tall story.
Taking the piss…making fun of.
Piss on you!…insult.
Drinking the piss at a piss-up…drinking beer/alcohol at a party.
It was a right pisser…a let down.
She was pissy…bit tipsy from the alcohol.
She was pissy…bit angry, possibly because all the alcohol has been drunk.
Piss’d me pants…either laughing or from fright.
Pissed off…as in left or an angry state of mind.

Which brings me to...

Hands up who takes a pee in the shower?

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Posted by apositivepessimist :: 5:10 pm :: 8 comments

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Thursday, October 29, 2009

Now is the winter of my discontent.


I just realized a positive with it coming into *piss, bitch and moan* Winter.

The LittleFatBastid gets into I AM Hunter mode and is gone a lot.

This year he is better set-up for it, with a new kit of knives and saws. No. Not used for the killing. Yeah. Haha I can picture the FatBastid leaping out from behind a bush in camouflage face paint with knife thrust high in the air as he leaps onto startled passing deer. He may look like a caveman but he has not the agility of one. Now the grunts he has down pat.

Now he has a blind. He can sit and sit and sit, oh and still sitting, then shoot future suppers in sheltered comfort. He’s getting older, the snow, ice and rain affects his bones now. You’d think with all that extra natural insulation the FatBastid would be immune to it all uh.

I’m still amazed that people can be shocked or even offended with the loving term I use for my husband. But he IS Little, Fat and technically he IS a Bastard. Always find it funny, when those same one’s don’t bat an eye at their own use of the term motherfucker.

I know that I AM in KinFucky. But really. That happens more further south. ArHaHaHaaa.

Talking of relations…in both family and biblical sense. There’s this one resident in the nursing home that I just can’t bloody take to.

I dunno if its her squeaky little voice.
Her needy little ways.
Her big bulgy eyes that continually chase each other from side to side.
Or if it’s her fetid morning, noon and night breath.

I just can’t take to her. I have tried. She’s been there for a year or so now.

When she moved into the home, her homemade dresses also came to live. I have NEVER. EVER. seen such ugly-arsed dresses. They are all in the same style. About six or seven of them. In various colors with a mainstay of black throughout them all. A big wide length of material sprouts from the side seams, supposed to end up in a bow tied at the back. Yeah maybe when she didn’t weigh 250 pounds that may have worked. She’s a bit of a heifer now. I believe the dresses were patterned from one of the outfits out of a kewpie dolls wardrobe.

After first seeing one, I asked my boss if her family did not like her. Dressing her so.

Thus she is now known as MissKD.

MissKD came from a home life of having her poor semi-crippled mother at her beck, fetch and call. The crippled part is the reason we have MissKD at the home in the first place. The mum went into hospital for an operation and rest of the family could not care for. Or didn’t want to. I know which one it’d be if she were my sister. When the mum came out, I believe they discovered life wasn’t so bad, what with being out from under the thumb of slavedom and decided MissKD could remain where she bloodywell was.

You can tell she is used to being the only one needful. Having had numerous people doing tasks for her, she is unused to the living amongst 29 [on her wing] other people who are just as needful of another ones care. I hate seeing her “stuff” come down to the laundry. I know that she’ll be continually nagging everyone, me included until “whatever” is returned. Normally I wouldn’t give a rats-arse about her bugging the aides…yeah, sit on that call-light MissKD…but they in turn start bugging me about them.

The mother, father and a who-seems-to-be-normal-sister visit MissKD just about every day. The father and the who-seems-to-be-normal-sister take turns. But the mother. Always there. I quite like the family. They seem like just poor, good hearted simple folk. They just accidentally created and nurtured a fucking she-bitch of a monster.

After a few days of the laundry staff copping MissKD’s continual questions…

Apos are you working tonight? I could sense she was about to launch into instructions about how to wash and hang her dress. I cut her off with a…Well, no MissD I am here now, I work days mostly. Thelma is on tonight.

And her demands…

I only want Do-It-All-Dottie to do my dresses -- that was in a note left for my boss aided and abetted by Do-It-All, who had written it.

I finally got a tad snippy with her. She had made a big song and dance about “oh they came back” followed by a big fat happy sigh. TWICE…Well yes MissKD, of course “they came back”. Nobody else would lay claim to these dresses. We ALL know who owns them.

What I had time to edit was…Well Fuck yes “they came back” you bulgy-eyed-troll-doll. Nobody else in their right fucking mind would want to wear such ugly-arsed dresses. Hideous bloody things they are.

Yeah. I just can’t take to her.

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Posted by apositivepessimist :: 8:30 pm :: 9 comments

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Tuesday, October 20, 2009

*checks the date*


Thinks I’m being pretty damn good to you people. I mean it’s just the twentieth and here I am back in blooger world blooging again. Either. Life has been pretty good or I’m letting IT treat me crappily. Luckily for youse it’s been pretty good. Or moreso I just partook of some homegrown AND I think it’s pretty good…Now I’m thinking, some days I tend to say “pretty” a lot.

I’ve been doing that FaceBook thing, have been for about a month or so.

How’s that bloody FarmVille. Stupid addicting game. I love it.

Don’t like all those soppy applications so much. People sending me hugs etc. Not that I am against hugs per se but I do find it kinda weird that complete strangers want to hug me. Then I think, hell they’re only human. Hee.

I find I can be bluntly non-offensive on that “add friend request”.

Had one last night from a motherly-figure in my red-headed-step-sister-in-law’s life… Yes, the lazy sister-in-law is on my friend list, so is that retarded Dora-the-Explorer look-alike that lives next door to her. But I digress, I was telling about the motherly figure…I debated whether to just add this woman. Then I remembered those “soppy applications”, so I sent her a message instead asking if she FarmVilled otherwise I wasn’t interested…We will see if I add another neighbour to me farm.

Work has been rather hellish.

Last week , I found myself muttering and mumbling about the crap-arsed job. In one particular moment I even went as far as to snarl at my boss that no-one should have to work like a dog for $7.75 a fucking hour. Then we both looked at the three mounds of laundry I had piled, waiting for their turn in the full washers. She agreed and let me rant a bit longer before she apologized about the pay-scale.

But what can you do eh.

This week we are down a dryer. Been five days so far. I have fingers crossed that the repairman is in there now fixing the bastard. Would hate to see it drag into the sixth day.

I might be pissed off tomorrow.

Truth of the matter, I will either pull my finger out and do something about it [as in, look for better pay AND conditions] or just get over it because it’s close to home, it’s dayshift and I don’t have any responsibilities. I mean real responsibilities. I can leave work at work. Well, I can if I don’t blog about it. HaHa.

Plus my boss loves me.

Deservedly so, tho.

I have thought about swapping with Do-It-ALL-Dottie, she the hag like woman who does the majority of nightshifts. Just for the change of pace and change in staff faces but with winter approaching I want to be home at night during those oncoming bastard months. I loathe and abhor winter. Sorry MotherNature.

Plus, she [Do-It-ALL] is wanting my position, well wanting a dayshift one anyway. Claims her husband doesn’t see too good to drive over and pick her up at night. That well may be so. I’d be shutting my eyes at the thought of witnessing Do-It-ALL’s beauty as well. HaHa…Mean. I might have accommodated her through some of our shifts, with a swap here and there during the five-weekly schedule.

That is until I heard that she had been complaining about the GoodSheilaWoman that fills in on my days off. Then I thought, well Fuck Her, if that’s how Do-It-ALL’s going to try and “claim” some day work. By bad-mouthing the GoodSheila…heh and yes Sheila is actually her name….who also works like a dog and for less money.

Had a H1N1 shot today. Took it up both snot-holes. Joy.

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Posted by apositivepessimist :: 4:53 pm :: 6 comments

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Thursday, October 01, 2009

My Oh Bloody My.


How the time has flown.

Vagina = 44 years!!

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Posted by apositivepessimist :: 9:17 pm :: 7 comments

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Sunday, September 27, 2009

Long time no Bloggie!


I am not one to apologise for absences, well absences in blog world.

Other than to say I been heaps busy beeatches. Yeowzaah.

Me and TheMoo [the dog] had an altercation with a skunk.

Skunk…1
TheMoo…0
Moi…0.5

I got a point because even when the damn dog chased the tail-waving skunk in my direction I was too fleet of foot to get a spray. Having long legs comes in handy when escaping the wildlife. However, I did, alas have to subtract half a point for having to deal with the aftermath of it all. Oh well, the FatBastid was able to fulfill his want of candles and incense sticks. Dude I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such big incense sticks. For a minute there I thought I musta been in bloody Texas.

FatBastid and his friend GoodForNothingJohn are joy-filled and plenty relieved that we purchased a brand spanking new under warranty for a couple of year’s ride-on mower for the next mowing season. They have done it tough. What with the mower continually breaking down and GoodForNothingJohn dabbling in lawnmower repairs, they were a pair of perfectly matched mates.

This past Saturday FatBastid had a trip to the local emergency room. He hadn’t had a poop since Thursday and if you know my FatBastid, he is nothing but regular. Almost after every meal regular. They were thinking it was appendicitis and if it was, he was going into surgery that night. After the CAT scan it was determined that he had perfectly healthy appendixes, but an inflamed intestine. After speaking with his family doctor a scope was deemed not necessary, much to FatBastids [and my] relief, we are both still medically uninsured. Now all is well with him and his bodily functions. Thank Bubbha, as I couldn’t take his pain any more, well, the telling me constantly about the pain etc. Yes, I know sometimes I am not too empathetic, but it usually takes a while before I start getting intolerant. They were a few long-arsed days, I tell ya.

Uhm. Oh yes, we purchased a freezer. Yay. Just in time for the encroaching blerh winter and deer season. The only good thing about blerh winter is the possibility of deer chilli and deer hamburger. Oh, and it somewhat slows down the visitors.

We planted our orchard. Well okay, FatBastid did most of the planting. I just helped with the selection of the fruit trees, oh and the paying of them. Two plum, two peach and two apple trees are thriving in their little mulched beds as I type. I’m sure both the deer and us will appreciate his efforts in years to come.

We have gone high tech, well high-bloody-tech for us. WiFi has been keeping us both on the net. My time is divided between yahoo chat, internet shops and playing games at Gamesville. Best $50 we ever spent. The best $136 we spent was in buying a MagicJack, going with a 5-year plan, bye bye phone bill.

TheMoo even went high tech and got some high dollar jewellery. She is now the proud owner of a $300 bloody WiFi dog collar. No, it’s not studded with precious stones. It’s studded with two probes that will shock her arse back within our fence line. Well, it will when we turn it onto that. At this stage she is on the *beep beep beeping* Danger Dog Robinson stage.

Here’s the spoilt bitch now.

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Posted by apositivepessimist :: 5:38 pm :: 7 comments

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