Robin Gibb has died and Aunty 24's report after showing seconds of Bee Gees' film clips resorted to quoting tweets from John Prescott and Danni Minogue! Danni quoted the theme song from the film Grease, i think that song was written by Barry.
The new STA buses, or
perhaps there is only one which I am fortunate to catch most mornings to work,
feature the most fabulously fat round STOP buttons that you press when you want to
admonish the bus driver, dob in a fellow passenger, or even alight from Mr Jiggly Jiggly.
These buttons are the size and shape of
yo-yos and are tomato sauce red with a yellow trim and I think S T O P is
written in white on a red background. Very soothing and highly effective. Nifty, what.
When I have not been admiring these buttons, caressing them
with my digits, occasionally with my tongue; they do also resemble a
lollypop/Wimpy burger, my focus in transit has been distracted by private transport, the rear windows
and bumpers of cars, usually some form of four wheel drive.. It would seem that The Baby on Board, Mum’s
Taxi, Warning Nervy B Driver signs and stickers have been
replaced, in fact, trumped by adhesive adornments that are even more nauseatingly
self-congratulatory. Yes, I’ve finally noticed the “My family” stick figures
stickers.
Oh the cult of the human and its tragic quest for further limelight
hoggery, indivduality and validation. How much do these people and their faaaaamlies need?! A rebate for lack of awesomeness and being insufficiently surreal, I guess. Get a blog for cock's sake, that is what my bumper sticker sez. Incidentally, i've twice seen the word J E S U S in big spaced out letters plastered across a car's rear windscreen. I'm not sure if it is in honour of that crazy, delusional prophet (possibly sane compared to Apostle Paul) or if it's just a means of communicating vexation with one's quotidian when in jaloppy.
Did you know that you could fit the entire Queensland ALP
opposition in a station wagon or mini bus? And if there is a ruction, well, crumbs, five of them could squeeze into my modest little hatchback and the other
two on a motorcycle and sidecar. Stylish but a rum state of affairs.
I have just spent the past ten minutes searching the office
kitchen shelves and cupboards for my coffee cup. While I was not quite having
the usual yelping nervy b as when looking for keys, tops and shoes - I am in public bel mode, after all, I was rather puzzled, not to mention choked
from supressing nervy b yelps and groans. Imagine my surprise , get set for wawawaaaaaa sound effect when I found
cup (don’t worry it doesn’t have “you don’t have to be made to work here but it
helps..” written on it (cup is not THAT big) on my desk concealed by briefing
papers that were vertically propped against cup.
In other news: Seal and Delta?!! Leanne Edelsten and Clive
James?!! Luvvies and me. Who said the
naughties were over?!? and one more for effect, ooh, ah, ! yeah
Have you ever recruited one? Have you ever wanted to be one? Foolish questions I know. After all it’s the desire of any sentient being in this the 21st century and in the top ten of your bucket list - that's a given. In the 1980's, however, the concept was off the wall.
Those who know the mistress, and you sweet little poppets who read this blog, are aware that she has had a checkered career (more technicolour than black and white but nevertheless CHECK-ERRED). Therefore it will come as no surprise to learn that the mistress was one of the world’s first life coaches. However in the olden days, the early 1980's to be precise, I was known as a motivator, the motivator once my powers of persuasive encouragement (not manipulation I swear) became renowned. (These days we say “went viral” – couldn’t say it back then because of the herpes and whatnot but nowadays having herpes is a vadge of honour going by the personal blogs on the Fairfax Press webpage; looking forward to Gina Rinehart's take).
Truth be told my success as a motivator/life coach was courtesy of Brian. You might recall Brian, my old friend the autodidact-come-municipal council librarian; I used to talk about him during the early throes of my love affair with the blogosphere. Brian and I have been feuding, i.e. not talking, for the past 2-3 years. Needless to say our capers in coventry have caused our mutual friends much awkwardness at self-actualisation workshops, parties, wakes and the like. Regardless, we are never to be reconciled. What happened between us I cannot divulge. All I can say is what happens in the Shire stays in the Shire.
Still credit where credit’s due has always been the Mistress’s motto and it’s thanks to Brian that I met Rick at a pyramid wealth seminar.
Rick was an amazing motivational speaker and a masterful TAFE teacher. I enrolled in his TAFE Motivator Course – “Choose Life”, and yes, Rick was bitter about the boys from Wham an' all but he let it go and props to him, I say. One day I’ll do his Saturday CBT sessions and rid myself of this cockin’ hairshirt but not quite yet for I’ve become accustomed to its weight.
Choose Life was a sensational course and Rick empowered me with the confidence to set forth and track down some apathetic souls and get ‘em going. My first port of call was a Rock against Work lunchtime gig....
This morning's All things considered program featured the Lake Superior State University 2012 list of words and phrases to be banished from English due to "overuse, misuse and general uselessness" (or is that Jerri Blank's description of her life on the streets?).
Here is a list of words and phrases that have been causing hornet rose here to tut, rick her neck or fume when eavesdropping, listening to the wireless or watching the television.
period of time
back-story
literally
contagion
at the end of the day
it is what it is
awesome (or perhaps that is now extinct, well, only used by French nationals during facebook frenzy updates. Here's hoping).
hopefully
Woah and yoah as me and all my posse used to say when we was young, fresh and fly.
Speaking of which, not the posse, oh has anyone seen mah posse? (setlle, inner Slocombe, s e t t l e)this afternoon on my walk home from work ( i gave myself an early mark. DUDE I don't need to wear jeans to work of a Friday to stick to it to the man, no old tough nut/hard as here gives herself an early mark ) i happened upon some spectres from a part of a much younger bel's life. No madeleines required.
So there I was, walking, walking, walking all the way hoame and within five minutes of hitting funkYtown (15 minutes 20 secondsish from the Mansions) I happened upon two former studente of mine. (I was a teacher, sorry, educator, for a bit of a spell last century, don't ye know, and curiously it was not during the interwar years).
Hanyways, first student i happened upon i had taught for a couple of years and she did have a look of recognition when our gaze met (or was it pity? - oh i so want their respect), so I greeted her by her name and I think she twigged for she said "Hello, miss" (only one context for that and no, it's not when one is being upbraided by nanny in St James Park, nanny always called me Miss Bel, if you don't mind, it's your local school).
Miss duly and briskly strode on. 'Magine Miss's surprise when she happened upon another former studente who she had taught in practicum and the first year out. We exchanged pleasantries and then he ran into a friend and I heard him say to her as they embraced
"You must have missed me heaps".
this is not supertramp
So much has happened since I last talked at you but I cannot go into such matters for my specialty is the superficial and inane.
I have to table the following, for neither are original, significant, or of any consequence and (triangular formation of dots) very important to me.
1. Diana Mitford's nickname for Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon was 'Cake' owing to gin fizz Liz's penchant for confectionery like costume.
2. While catching a taxi home this evening after a splendid day picknicking in a very big park, I heard a song on the radio that always makes me feel very ill at ease, provokes utter distaste and causes marked vexation. It was not Video Killed the Radio Star which I really, really cannot abide.
It was that song by little Stevie Winwood called While you see a chance or something like that.
I do not know why I hate it so but I suspect it's the timbre of his voice, the general tune, I don't know its content because I cannot register, all the space between my ears gets very tangled and tetchy.
Oh such vexation!! BUT WHY?! Could it be the dicky keyboards and possibly some of that saxophone, could it be the timbre of lSW's voice - so squittery and oh so weedy, or could it, could it just be my all consuming, crazy, furtive love for Captain Von Trapp tainting everythink?!!!
The only antidote to such a source of disquiet and moribund fate is to listen to everybody's favourite tinker come pop star, David Essex.
Marie Osmond has been hospitalised with severe bronchitis. More alarming , however, is her being referred to as "veteran performer, Marie Osmond."
In addition to on-going blood testing, possible blood letting, and sinusitis , I’ve been fainting and whatnot. Believe you me it's even more tedious experiencing it than reading about it...
Unfortunately my new found delicacy caused me to miss a social event that I would have liked to have attended.
I’ve also been caught up in quite the cockup in cyberspace, with the electronic missives on the iPhone. It turns out that I'd been sending mental missives to a stranger, instead of one of my good time charlie friends. Goodness knows for how long! I daren't look at the sent box. Stranger only advised me in a politely sardonic fashion on Wednesday and the shock of the news triggered one of my dizzy spells. There was NO sexting involved I swear!! Oh noes what if the missives go viral!!
O technology! I’m up with the social etiquette but netiquette – really it's high time that a Sunday paper supplement featured an article about THAT!
When I haven't had my schnoz in a bucket of lavender coloured smelling salts or the Merk Manual, I managed to notice that a SMURF MOVIE has been released. I see that Papa Smurf (IL PAPA?) leads the goddamn posse sportin' a beard, beanie and ray bans!!! Yowch (see Quack posting). The promotions for the film feature smurfs frequently murmuring, "Oh my smurf" . Some catchphrase. Actually ...
Wagon Wheels are back (as is the avian flu but enough of my hypochondria for now). The confectionery of the old schoolyard, well along with quite a few other tuckshop dainties but WW was my favourite. You can get original flavour featuring choc coated biscuit with a strawberry jam and thin vuhnilla marshmallow centre or a new variety called chocolate which must have like chocolate and marshmallow in the centre. Farout.
Queensland strawberries are still absolutely delicious, all types of pears are still good to eat, and those bananas, why they're worth their weight in gold, aren't they just, because let's face it that's the currency required to purchase them, oh i know (but don't worry some vendors accept the chocolate money that is covered in gold paper).
Oh and how about that stock market and your super...Zzz
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