Guess Who?

Men and their muscles. Show off’s, every last one.

I have been tracking this clip for over a year. I still have a giggle now and then because, after all this time they are still doing the guessing game thing. Guess what? I know exactly who this is!


The New Me

It has finally hit home. I no longer have a job. After resigning in February, I am finally leaving on May 2nd.

I don’t know if I actually want another job, I think I just freaked out about having nothing to do except gardening. I did the mandatory soul searching thing, “will I be happy just staying at home?” etc. and still couldn’t make up my mind, so I sent off 5 applications with CV attached via email last Wednesday evening.

Anyway, I have had 3 calls and scheduled 3 interviews. An offer was put on the table which I accepted, because I liked the environment, product, and employers. Plus my retainer and commission rocks! I also get to work a 5 day week, which will be great.

I signed a contract and confidentiality documents today, and start on Tuesday 6th May. Now I am getting really nervous. I have to wear a suit, and ‘elegant’ (uncomfortable) shoes (no Ian, not clear heels), and have public speaking engagements.

What have I got myself into this time? Public speaking? Me? Time will tell.

The Day a Town Stood Still

Thursday was a very emotional day. The ashes of the Birthday Boy were placed in the coffin with his Mum. At peace, finally. Because of the suicide, he was unable to be laid to rest in consecrated ground, so they sneaked him in. Bravo to the family!

Every person in their community was at the funeral. The school closed it’s doors, as did the shops while the funeral was conducted. I guess it goes to show how much respect the locals had for their District Nurse.

Rest in Peace.

Death of P

G was home on Friday, naturally upset. The sight of his sister struggling for life was hard for him . He spent time with her each day, as did his siblings. He told me she would not let go of his hand, and her low wisper was hard to hear.

She has clung to life for the last 12 months, enduring the unendurable. Chemo every Tuesday, Blood transfusions every Wednesday. A lesser person would have given in, she wanted so much to live. I know I would have given in. She did not believe in Euthenasia.

I hope her husband and kids are somehow able to cope, for the dead know nothing, It is not the dead that grieve, but the living left behind.

The Funeral is on Thursday, picked especially by her kids. The 17/4 is the birthday of a brother, who committed suicide a few years ago.

Trish died on Saturday 12/4 about 5 pm. I think, in the end it was a blessing for all concerned.


G. is interstate tonight. He has gone to say goodbye to his sister. She has cancer, and her major organs are shutting down. All chemo has been stopped. There is no hope left.

The Dr.’s are keeping her pumped full of morphine to make her as comfortable as possible. She is slipping in and out of consciousness, but has her faculties.

She is skin and bones, the tumor in her peritoneal cavity is pregnant like in it’s enormity, and is blocking her bowel and her kidneys. Her body is toxic, and when they lay her down, she vomits, so they have her strapped into a chair.

She is surrounded by her 6 children, Parents, and 9 of her 10 siblings, also her husband, a Doctor, who can do absolutely nothing.

It’s just a matter of hours now.

Au’ Revoir Trish.

Eight Steps to a Sex Worker

1. The Husband
2. Government Department
3. Disability Sector
4. New Supervisor

5. Sector Manager
6. Regional Manager
7. Client of All of the Above
8. Sex Worker

Link the Eight Steps to SEX with the following words.
Instrucions for linking;
1 : Works for
2: Works for
3 : In
4: Has a
5: With a
6: And
7: Who have
8: Who needs a

The Husband: Would rather face the sack.
The New Supervisor: Couldn’t deal with it and passed it on to the husband.
The Sector Manager: Says he has no choice, must do. Fired.
The Regional Manager: Rescinds all the above. Wrong, wrong and wrong.
The Sector Manager: Apologises for causing severe emotional stress.
The New Supervisor: Is a a moron.