Might do a little tinkering on this thing tonight. Just been looking at the toolbar hereof, and I might have actually worked out how to do some techy stuff to make this blog of mine really rock. Oh, I know I should rely on my craft as a wordsmith, but sometimes it's fun to do tricks as well. Like insert images. Might try it soon-ish.
I thought I should do a little work on it tonight, because I'm going to be as busy as a one-armed fan dancer over the next few days, but it's hard to think about things tonight. What will amuse my readership? Will anybody care how proud I was when I took my twelve-year-old for a haircut today, and the hairdresser congratulated him on his recent performance in his school play? She was most ebullient and profuse in her praise, saying over and over how fantastic he was, how awesome he was. When I mentioned it would be impossible to cut the kid's hair because his head would swell to planetary proportions with all the praise, she said he 'totally deserved every bit of it'. No, that will not really interest the folks all that much. What might interest them is the question he asked of his poor harried mother when we were climbing into the car to go home: 'Mum, do vegans like sperm?' This is really one heck of a question from one's twelve-year-old. When I was twelve, I had never even heard of a vegan. I was aware of a substance called sperm, having read all those Where Did I Come From type books in my school library. When Mr Bingells and I discovered we were going to become a family, I decided I would always be there to explain when my kids asked questions. I couldn't wait to advise and instruct, to teach and shape their minds. What I didn't bargain for was the most commonly asked question being, 'Are we there yet?', or a constant repetition of some rhetorical question, such questions finally causing me to lose my shit on several occasions, one such occasion where I pulled over and threatened to make him get out of the car and walk. Nowadays the most constant questions I'm asked are: 'What's for dinner?' 'When's dinner?' 'Any dessert?' 'Can I eat the leftovers?' 'Can I play on the x-box?', and 'Hey, Mum - you done on the computer yet?' That's the fifteen-year-old. The twelve-year-old often asks some very off-kilter, out-of-the-box questions, and today's was a doozy. I am not sure why he is so interested in veganism, although I do take pains to point out they should be aware some people follow different diets for ethical or religious reasons, and they are aware one of my oldest friends is vegan. This is her life and her choice, but I don't think it defines her. But I have always explained to my kids vegans eschew all animal products for ethical reasons. And as much as I want to be that down to earth parent that doesn't pussyfoot around, and just answers the questions as honestly as I can in age-appropriate terms, this particular question knocked me for six. The propensity of anybody, vegan or otherwise, to swallow sperm is not something I wish to get into with my twelve-year-old. I'm sure those of you with children, hell - even those of you without, will understand this. I mumbled that I didn't know, and changed the topic. Sometimes you have to do these things.
I viewed the DVD 'Ouija' the other night. It appears to be a run-of-the-mill, follow the formula type of horror movie wherein the characters are chiefly high school students, in that one by one they all (except the heroine, natch) get bumped off. Plot wasn't too bad, but yeah, somewhat formulaic. I've never conducted a séance, and I'm under the impression it's probably not the smartest thing to do. When aged thirteen, myself and a school friend attempted to make contact with Johnny O'Keefe, who had passed not long beforehand. We sat at a small table in my bedroom with the lights out. We had no candles, so I sat a blob of glow putty in the centre of the table (I wish I was not making this up). We held hands across the table, closed our eyes, and I called in a sepulchral voice, 'Are you there, Johnny O'Keefe?' My friend whimpered, 'Simone, let's turn the light on.' Feeling shit-scared myself, I agreed to this course of action.
Didn't catch the ARIAs last night, but have seen some pictures from the red carpet, and the ceremony. In closing, I'm going to put this out there: does anybody else think Sia looks like Dougal from The Magic Roundabout, with that bloody mop thing on her head?
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