Student: May I go to the toilet?
Me: Ouis!
Student: I don’t speak French.
Me: Nor do I.
Student returns: I just got that joke on my way back to class.
Me: *internal facepalm*
Articulate.
To play the board game called Articulate, a player must give clues for something specific without naming it or using particular words.
AD: Clue 1: It got bombed. Clue 2: It’s in Australia. 3. They made a movie of it.
Everyone is clueless.
AD: Pearl Harbour! Duh!
Me: Pearl Harbour isn’t in Australia, honey.
Awkward.
Just making sure we knew.
LMC: (to the visitors). What’s the time? Oh, wait, I will check on my iPad…
Me: you just asked that so you could say you would check on your iPad in front of everyone, didn’t you?
LMC: Yeah….
At least she had the dignity to blush.
Creepy.
LMC: Hey, do you want to see something creepy?
Me: Creepier than you??
LMC: Oh, it IS me, though!
Abbott says remote communities are a “lifestyle choice”
I am still incredibly angry about this nitwittery from Tony Abbott, Prime Monster of Australia.
Coming home.
We’ve just been away for the hottest weekend of the summer. I don’t cope well with the heat, so I’ve sought out the coolest places possible, stayed out of the sun, and tried not to complain about how hot I’ve been. We’ve spent the weekend with some pretty great people, and really enjoyed our weekend away despite the oppressive heat of 39C with high humidity.
I enjoyed the most blissful sleep for all but the first five minutes of the two-hour drive home. I’m not going to lie to you – enjoying the air conditioning in the car after some delicious ice cream, I was possibly the happiest I’ve been all weekend. I may have snored like the lady I am, or thrashed around in a dream, but I wouldn’t have known. The phrase “dead to the world” has never been more appropriate.
On arriving home, we found that there had been a “cool change” and the temperature outside was down to 31C with even higher humidity. By the time I had finished unpacking, even my eyelids were sweating, and I could feel the tickly, trickly beads of most unladylike sweat running down my back.
Thankfully, my furbabies didn’t care how hot or sweaty or uncomfortable I was. As usual, my labrador Abbey nearly turned herself inside out with excitement and some supercharged tail wagging. My tortoiseshell cat, Scout, sat on the end of the bed and talked to me as I unpacked and put things away.
When I finally sat in my comfy chair tonight, Scout leaped up onto my lap and cuddled into me as hard as she could. At that point, I didn’t care how hot I was either. When your cat loves you enough to welcome you home with happy cuddles and purring worthy of a poorly tuned Volkswagen Beetle, you cuddle her right back for all you’re worth. That’s what loving your furbaby is all about.
The cuddle only lasted a few minutes. Once we were both ridiculously, uncomfortably hot again, she jumped down and lay on the floor beside my chair, both of us enjoying the breeze from the fan.
She’s still purring loudly enough for me to hear her, fifteen minutes later. This kind of welcome really is one of the best things about coming home.
Hubris.
Abbott.
Hockey.
Turnbull.
Morrison.
Pyne.
They dare to accuse ordinary Australians of having a sense of entitlement.
Enough said.
And so, we wait.
Bottle Cap
Andy Writes Poems – some really thought-provoking and perceptive poetry can be found on this blog.
I really like his work.
Limitless,
confined
a potential locked inside.
Lonely, yet defined,
the path that I decide
Entrapment, enslaved,
tortured and engraved
with sins and thoughts as past distorts
and truth cannot be saved.
Inside you is a yearning
a freedom cry so loud
I heard it from the hilltops,
over the free and raucous crowd.
I know you hold your secrets,
I know I hold mine too
We’re insecure, yet kind and pure
There’s good inside of you.
But bottle cap,
I open you, I set your spirit free,
my only wish, as I am trapped,
please do the same for me.
I may not have a bottle cap,
but capped I seem to be
please bottle cap oh bottle cap,
I’m lost in misery
~ Andrew
Anyone else feel this way? Like you’re gonna explode in a mess of thoughts that you held back? Or maybe you can relate more to…
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Fickle love.
LMC: I love Bruno Mars.
Me: Are you going to marry him? *chuckle at old joke*
LMC: I’d do anything…
Me: Would you take a grenade for him?
LMC: *looks disappointed* …no.
Things kids say in the library #3
Two boys ran to the door of the library and looked in to see which teacher was on duty.
One says to the other, “Ohhhh rats, it’s the mean one! She doesn’t let us play games on the computers!”
Both looked at me with a mixture of misery and disgust on their faces, then walked away.
Go me.
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