We are only just now starting the search on account of us being, well, idiots and leaving it way to late.

My first choice was Montessori.

Oh Montessori..how I love you. I adored walking through the classrooms on open day.

Watching all the kiddies doing their own thing.

They were wearing slippers. Slippers in class! How freakin cute is that.

Some kiddies were washing dishes in the kiddie size kitchen.

Some were colouring.

Some were still eating lunch at 2.00 in the afternoon.

We were shown around by a Hippie throwback whom I just adored.

When I told her I had been informed that my Bubs was “defiant” on account of him telling his daycare teacher he didn’t want to put his shoes on, well I could tell Hippie wanted that bitch burnt at the stake.

Then we had THE INTERVIEW.

I dont do well at interviews.

I’ve never needed to do an interview. Not even for work. I’ve pretty much always worked for family.

The interview lady scared me. I think she was wearing a Doona. I didn’t know what to say.

JMM had freshly shaven his head that morning and looked a little like a fucking  White Supremist.

She asked us alot of questions about our home life.

Apparently if it differs to much with the schools way it is to confusing to the child.

She asked how we disipline in our house.

Unfortunately I let JMM answer. He said,

“Well, to start we take something away from him and if that doesn’t work we put him in his room and if that still doesn’t work we smack him”

By the look of horror on the womans face I dont think she was at all approving.

I am actually kinda waiting for DOCS to rock up at my door.

Then she asked me what kinds of things we did together at home.

I went into moron mode and dribbled some crap about watching Little Einstiens and Number Jacks and loving Volcanos. Yep.

Not ..we go for bushwalks and look at wildflowers, and bake together every week. We collect bugs in the backyard and do alot of crafts and painting. We go to feed the parrots and pidgeons at the park and go to The Aquarium of WA. We read storys.

God. Can I be any more of an idiot.

Doona woman must think that when our child is not glued to the TV he is smacked, locked in his bedroom and treated like a mushroom.

I think we totally blew it.

Anyway, the school doesn’t have any places for next year. My heart was broken.

Montessori, I love you.

Just as well anyway, I suppose.

All the other Mothers there were anally retentive arseholes.

Next school on our hit list is just down the road from us.

ST Stephens private school.

This school gives preferance to its applicants. In this order.

1 – If you are a Christian and attend church at least 3 times a month and have a letter of recomendation from your church…

2 – If the child you are enrolling has siblings already attending the school..

3 – If either parent is a teacher at the school..

4 – If either parent attended the school…

And the rest of us burn in hell fucking sinners can fuck off cos they dont want us in their school..

JMM fills out the application and sends it off…with a note attached. He says..

We will pay ALL fees up front in a lump sum…and that we dont attend church, but we are Evangelists..

Yes..you did read that right.

I am, apparently, a fucking Evangelist.

Just what the hell is one of those anyway? Cos I have all kinds of theatrical church stuff going through my head.

I told JMM that was a bad move, cos if we get to the interview stage I ‘m not going to have anything constructive to say….and even though he considers himself a church boy, I distinctly remember him mentioning before Bubs was born that ‘JUDAS’ was a “nice” name…

He told me to in case of questioning, ” Just sit there with your mouth shut, like a good church girl should”.

Now, if the stupid govenment built enough schools to service the familys that live around here, we wouldn’t be having this fucking problem in the first place.

It’s nothing special. It doesn’t have cute plants growing in it. Doesn’t even have a filter to keep it all clean.

I have  eight, seven, six  Shubunkins that live in it.

I like them very much. I’m quite attached to them really.

I feed them bloodworms.

I picked Shubunkins cos the gay guy in the pet shop told me they are “tough as old boots”.

He was absoulutely right. In two and a half years I have only lost two fish.

Not bad going really.

They have survived copius amounts of garden mulch invading their home..[ thanks to bubs]

They have survived the dog using their pond as a  wading pool..[ this is before she turned into a horse]

They have survived a half a litre of motor oil tipped into the water..[ again thanks to bubs].

I killed one of them.

Squashed him while I was scooping the dirty water out, ready for a refill. Poor thing. I felt some kind of strange twinge inside of me, looking at his wee dead body…I think it could have been an emotion. Nup. It’s gone.

Usually I clean the pond once a fortnight. As I said, its not filtered so it gets pretty dirty if its left…and I dont want the little suckers to run out of oxygen.

I have been neglectful in my pond  duties lately.

This is because it has rained here for near on 18 days straight and I dont do rainy outdoor shit.

I had noticed at a fleeting glance now  and then that the water was turning to something resembling that green slime shit you buy for your kids to play with.

This was bizzaro cos it hadn’t been that long since its last clean and all the rain should have kept it a little clean as well.

Bubs and I were outside today catching slater bugs for him to torture when I noticed GASP a dead fishy floating.

Well fuck me now I had to clean the pond.

So I’m scooping the rank water out, careful careful not to squash any more of them than is necessary, and I’m thinking to myself..

‘Fuck me what the hell is in here cos this shit is funky“…and then I find the reason.

An enormous, partly decomposed, Golden Retriever sized dog shit.

After a little bit of..” If you tell Mummy the truth you wont get throttled” Bubs finally owns up to getting a shovel, scooping up the shit and chucking it in the pond.

And it killed only one fish!

See!. Tough as old boots!

Now I’m off to the shops to get two more  Shubunkins to kill nurture…and a baked potato with mild chillie beans,spinach, sour cream, cheese and bacon.

Everyone else is having fish.

Writers blog block sucks!

Why was I not warned about this?…and the longer I haven’t written, the more I’ve been stressing about it, of course.

It doesn’t help that I have very little to inspire me. It also does’t help that everyone in the whole fucking cosmos that knows me knows about this blog.

Therefore, I cant gossip about neighbours, family or friends.

Which means I have to totally make shit up. And I’m trying to get healthy so I haven’t been drinking, and being sober is sooo not creative.

The most exciting thing I have done lately is squish a Chicco Baby between my fingers and realise that when it’s all compacted and shit it looks like ET. Yep.  Things are PUMPING in my house.

Then I have JMM on my back constantly asking if I’ve done a new blog.

I say no and he says..

‘Why dont you write about me? And how wonderful I am to you and how spoilt you are and you could write about my HUGE GUNS or you could write about how your so spoilt you dont even fill your own car with fuel anymore or you could write about my GUNS…or you could write about how spoilt and nuts you are that you go crazy if the slightest thing doesn’t go your way, or you could write about my guns…

And I’m all like…

 ’Fuck off dude..no-one gives a rats arsehole about your muscles and I am so not that fucking spoilt cos I could so put fuel in my car if I had to, like I’m gonna have to today cos you didnt do it when you took the car to the gym last night and I am pretty pissed about that cos even though I can do it doesn’t mean I fucking want to do it…so your gonna cop it when you get home…and write your own fucking blog.

You could call it MY HUGE GUNS.

As well as giving up alcohol, not that I drank much anyway, I have also been hitting my elliptical trainer.

I have decided that all this healthy crap was pointless as long as I was popping codiene like they were skittles. I dont need the pain relief anymore. I just grew to like the chillaxed feeling , but I think my liver has been looking for a new home so I’ve stopped.

My god being healthy is so fucking boring…

And being lucid the whole day listening to bubs ask for the gazillionth time “But why..but how’ makes me want to go fucking crazy. But hey..its all good.

I am planning to expand my shopping addiction.

Bubs asked me why I didnt have a doodle the other day. Then he asked me why I wee’d out of my butt.

Then last night he asked his homophobic  Father what a Homosexual was {he was watching The Simpsons]

I wish I had it on film. I thought it was priceless, but then I’m not a homophobe. I think it’s about time  JMM someone changed their attitude.

The child got the I’ll tell you when your older answer.

Well, thats it. A whole pile of totally boring bullshit.

Sorry about that,but I felt if I didn’t write something I may never write anything again…I guess some may think that not such a bad thing.

JMM mainly. Man up.

I hate Nadine. Nadine is a dumb, know- it- all fucker.

I’d love to punch Nadine in the throat…and laugh about it.

We go to Nadines pet shop because this is, unfortunately where we purchased the fat arsed dog from, and for some bizarro reason we feel compelled to keep going back.

Having a conversation with Nadine makes me want to sacrifice myself to a Mountain Lion, rather than hear her shrill fucking Know-it-all fucker voice droning on and on…and on.

On this day in question, the ‘Sporn’ fitting day, I was already off to a shit start.

It took ten minutes to get the dog into my car. She doesn’t like the car. I tried to lift her in. Bit by fat body part by bit.

I was wearing my standard issue weekend attire of  Black on Black.

It was an awesome backdrop for the fat dogs Blonde fur.

We drive to the pet shop. The whole way I listen to a running comentary by Bubs on the position of  ‘Dog Slime’..it’s on the front of the chair,the back, his arm,the carpet fucking everywhere, apparently.

We get to the pet shop. We enter. Dog and child go crazy. I pretend they are not mine.

Then I do something stupid. I ask Nadine a question. Yes. I actually encourage her to speak to me. I am really that stupid.

I ask Nadine if the dog is getting fat.

She asks what I feed her, I say Eukanuba, she says its impossible for the dog to get fat while only eating Eukanuba. Nadine  tells me the dog looks great.

She tells me the dog is out of control and needs to see a trainer.

I tell her shes been through training, with someone recomended by her.

She tells me the dog is awesome and just going through a stage.

She looks at the inside of my dogs ears and says they are red and this means the dog has an allergy to beef. Nadine says most dogs are allergic to beef.

I tell Nadine Eukanuba has beef in it, so whats up with that shit?

Nadine just stares at me cos she cant think of a comeback cos shes a fucker.

She puts the harness on Charlie and gives me a demo and it works a treat and I say I’ll take it and she says great. And she takes the dog out to the car for me.

Charlie wont get in, of course.

Nadine tells me i’ts because she has sore hips, from jumping…and also cos my dog is fat. Yep. Now the dog is fat.

I tell Nadine the dogs never jumped up, or on, anything in her life. I’m not a fucking moron. I know about Hip Dysplasia.

Nadine tells me the dog wont get in the car because she is traumatised.

I want to tell nadine the only one here that is traumatised is me. Traumatised by her fuckwitedness.

I tell Nadine that the trainer she recomended to us agreed that Charlie’s personality was not “normal” for a retriever. She was shy, and spooked easily.

This has been rectified by much love from us  and heaps of yelling and screaming from the bubs.

I tell  Nadine that if the dog  was traumatised it was because she is a fuckhead and buys her puppys from puppy farms in the Eastern states.

They get ripped from their siblings, shoved in a crate and shipped over here on a big, loud,scary plane.

Then they get dumped into a glass cage where Mothers  let their little fucking crettin kids amuse themselves by bashing on the glass and screeching at them all day long.

As I say this, I’m thinking about shoving Nadine in a glass box and screeching at her all day long.

It makes me chuckle to myself.

You suck, Nadine. I’m not coming to your pet shop anymore. You’ll never see my dogs fat arse again.

Also, I must mention that I kinda like JMM again on account of him buying me an AWESOME pair of  MAGENTA  sequined Chuck Taylors whilst he was in Melbourne….and yes I am that shallow and spoilt.

I would post photo’s, but cant remember how to do it. I piss myself off.

Julie won Master Chef!  I LOVE me some Julie!!!

How cute were George and Gary?…Nearly crying and shit!…

And her Family. So gorgeous.

LOVED it!!!!!

What the hell  are we all supposed to watch now?

I miss it alreadry.

       And lets keep the fact that I’m really a sooky bitch to ourselves.

I dont want to ruin my rep. 

I look at JMM and ask if he’s gotten the paper yet.

He has not.

He tells me to go grab the one off the lawn.

I say ‘ No fucking way…someone might see me…you do it’.

He says..’ No way!…what if someone sees me!..thats embarrasing!’.

And then we remember.

We remember that sitting in the back seat of the car is a 3.7 year old freeloader and what better time for him to start earning his keep but now.

So we say, nearly in unison…

‘Hey Bubs..see that newspaper lying in the grass?…go and grab it and bring it over here’…and we both hide in the garage and watch.

He waddles off to get it.

He picks it up.

He yells out in an extremely loud voice [cos thats the volume of the Bubs]..

‘Hey!!!…What the HELL!!!..Whats the big idea!..This is a MISTAKE! ….someone left a  Meeuse-paper on our garden! Why is there a Meeuse-paper on our garden?’….

Needless to say, I retreated inside and left the boys to it.

You know, having a smart  kid can backfire on you.

And I was going to post about how his mates took their wives with them and how for the past week every time I checked our e-mail and saw another fucking stream from Facebook about who’s going where and who’s meeting up with who and fucking reading about people other than myself planning to have fun and getting  good and drunk and crap I went a little more insane with jealousy…cos I’m so not the type to say..

“Bye Hunny! have a wonderful time!…dont worry about me! I haven’t had a Holiday since 1987 but thats ok!..I’m a woman! I live to serve!!!….I was born to do it!

Nope. I am a spiteful fucker. It’s one of my personality defects…I’d be more inclined to smother you in your sleep.

So before he left he brought me that Elliptical machine I wanted. It’s AWESOME..I’m hurting that machine. I’ts the first contraption of torture I’ve enjoyed using…and it shut me up for about 3 days.

Until I thought…

‘Fucker can buy me an elliptical machine for my fat arse but cant afford to buy me a ticket to Melbourne?…What am I ?..Blonde?… stupid?

And I was going to post on how hurt my feelings are because I really wanted to go because I consider his friends my friends too and as far as I know I think they like me cos I’m funny dammit  and I wanted to get to know Neisha better and meet Mrs Belanji. I wanted to have some fun, before I forget what fun is.

But fuckit. I cant be arsed posting about it now.

I’m over it.

And holy shit have I had the BEST NIGHTS SLEEPS EVER. I’ve positioned myself right in the middle of the bed.

No snoring. No bed hogging. No snoring. No sweaty legs hanging all over me. No snoring. No hogging of doonas.

Did I mention I haven’t heard a snore?..Fucking marverlous…I swear I’ve been waking up in the same position I fell asleep in. Now thats a good nights sleep.

Tonight I watched Harry Potter with Bubs. He loves Harry Potter.

I dont find it as enjoyable

After the gazillionth time of answering his questions of  ’But how’..with ‘ because it’s magic’

Only to be followed with a ‘But why’…I was really pissed at myself for being sober.

…..Post script….

Apologise my dear life partener. Deep down I know you spoil me rotten. And anyway, if you are offended you can always stop reading. 

Fuck me…you can throw a kid off a bridge these days and not get as much publicity.

The guy fucked up his life and died accordingly…end of story. Please.

Any other Aussies out there hooked on Masterchef? I  lurve Masterchef.

It has even inspired me to cook.    Just this week I’ve made sticky date pudding and caramel sauce [ it was awesome] Lamb shanks [ Which Justine totaly fucking copied tonight]..but mine were nicer, baked rice pudding, homemade pizza blah blah blah other stuff too… cant remember ..I’ve been on the dreaded Fruit Tingles again. 

And Poh you silly cow…who is going to choose soup over a Lamb Shank?..[Ok, I like potato and leek soup]…but I wouldn’t pick it over a shank.

I’ve come to the conclusion I can only dribble shit write when I’m half cut. Like all creative people.

The sticky date pudding was Awesome!!!!…and dam you Masterchef for me getting a touch ROUNDED.

Now I have to go on a bleh diet. Fuck that. I’ll do the Lemon detox and kick the kilo’s arse. Dont tell me how useless bad it is. I already know. I’ve done it before. For one whole month. One whole month of absoloutley nothing but the Beyonce fucking starvation diet. I have to say I got totally hooked on it. I literally had to force myself to eat again.

Unfortunatly for me I ended my fast one week before Christmas…so you can imagine the aftermath.

If I could fit it in my mouth it was getting in there. Women were SCARED I WOULD EAT THEIR CHILDREN….it was a fucking FRENZY, I tell you…and by the end of it I’d put back everything I’d lost, of course.[cos it's a DETOX,not a diet..yeah right,whatever]  I’m not overweight now, but I”m getting a touch “curvy”…and on account of me having no self  love at all I dont do “curvey” to well. I know I should exercise and eat right and its all about calories in and energy out and crap blah blah blah but I’m really fucking lazy, HATE to move, exercise, a bit stupid. I have however, been promised an eliptical machine from JMM.

Yep. That made me feel Fucking Great!!!. So we’re at Rebel Sport yesterday and he’s like..

“Hey Shelly, get your fat arse up there on that machine and see if you like it, you heffer”

Alright, he didn’t say that but just offering to buy me one fucked my shit up. Because I’m missing my groove right now…Oh ok..I never had a groove….

Oh alright. He offered to buy me the stupid thing cos I asked for one awhile ago….and the exersise bike, thigh master, stepper,treadmill, skipping rope, fucking whatever are just SO FREAKING BORING!!!!!…I want to stab myself with a  Cadbury Flake….or just fucking eat it…and anyway..who really gives a toss?

On the Bubs front, the other day he fake- cried for three hours. I joke not. Three hours of tearless sobbing for no apparent reason whatsoever.

He was asked every question under the sun as to what may be bothering him [ to which he gave no answer..just cried]…so I finally cracked and exiled him to his bedroom.

Where he stayed for an hour [sleeping] then came out crying. Yep. Picked up right where he left off. When he’d chilled out a bit I went to put his tracksuit pants on him..and he started screaming and I’m like ” What the!!! whats wrong with you? what happened?”…To which he replied…

“You ATTACKED me”…

…..BASKET CASE!!!!!…. But I love him. He’s never boring. And then my bitch ,dragon Mother came over and I was telling her about it and she said…

“Are you sure he was awake?”…Which sounds like a really stupid question…..

Except his Mother [being me,of course]  used to sleep walk so badly when she was a toddler she had to visit a Child Psychologist.

Welcome to crazy town, people.

I need to know the answer to something.

This thing I need to know the answer to is just one of many thorns in my Womanly side.

It’s right up there with trying to find a pair of jeans that dont make me look like a fat midget….and if you’re a fat midget and you just read that…Sorry 

So here goes my question……..

Why the FUCK  is it so hard to find a good, decent looking, comfortable BRA.

FUCKYOU UNIVERSE!!!…You must be MALE!

OH MY GOD! So much to compute! Can I handle it?.. 

This situation plus PERTH DRIVERS [and possibly my roadrage] is how Bubs learnt to say “You stupid dickheads“.

Why is it that 99% of people in this city find it impossible to merge?

Oh!! I know why!  I’t because Perth drivers are fuckwits! [except for me...of course.]

You can see the fucking pure panic in their eyes…

Oh! OH SHIT!!!…Where have the double lanes gone? Oh my God! What the fuck do I do! The roads turning into ONE LANE and a car is RIGHT FUCKING next to me! Holy crap I think I’ll just SLAM on my brakes right here in the middle of the road and hope for the best!.

Some awesome person placed a rather large sign on the side of the road awhile back that read…

        LEARN TO MERGE

       CALL  1800 FUCKWIT  NOW…

Some arsehole took it down after a couple of days. Probably some WANKER that cant merge.

I was going all “crazy woman” about it to JMM yesterday when he tells me this …

That very day he was coming up to said merge when  the girl driving the car next to him decided she’d put her foot down to get in front of him.

So she half succeeded…then changed her mind and SLAMMED her brakes on.

He had to swerve as not to hit her car and he went NUTS. He was eating a burger at the time. He wound his window down, screamed ” YOU STUPID FUCKING COW!!!” at her and threw his burger at her….which of course came straight back at him and splattered all over his windscreen.   

I found this hilarious…cos it happened to HIM and not ME.

I have realised I also suffer ” Shopping trolley rage”…or more to the point , rage at idiots that stand in the middle of the isle with their trolley and “little Johnny” while I stand there waiting patiently to get the fuck past while they repeat..

“Little Johnny hop out the lady’s way, come on…little johnny listen to Mummy..out the way – times it by abizillion.

Lady , grab Little Johnny by the arm and PHYSICALLY move him NOW before I run him over with my fucking trolley… I think I have a problem with HUMANS…

Something totally off topic. I finally caved and brought a clothes dryer. I know, I know I must be the last person on earth to own a dryer…blah blah.

So I get my first load out of the dryer and chuck it on my bed to fold and I’m all gleeful at the dry warm clothes till I notice a shitload of white grainy stuff falling out of said clothes, all over the bed and floor and I’m like what the fuck is that shit?..Till i realise its WASHING POWDER that Bubs has FILLED the dryer with…which I then made JMM vacuum.

Never a dull moment with this child. Anyone want to borrow him?