I have a clown phobia. They terrify me. I place the blame squarely on every awful 80’s ‘horror’ film I ever watched.   I spent my formative years viewing movies about clowns that would sit, smiling and apparently harmless, on a chair in a corner of your bedroom ... until the lights went out.   At which point they would suddenly grow very long arms and strangle you in your sleep.   Or produce an enormous meat-cleaver from the folds ...

  I have briefly disengaged myself from the throng of houseguests to make the following announcement: Somebody ate all of my Cornflakes . I can handle the endless snoring from bloated corpse-like guests passed out all over my house. I can handle the giant electricity, phone and grocery bills we inevitably get lumbered with. I can handle the utter disregard for my privacy and desire for peace. I can even handle cooking for seven ravenous people in two sittings every n...

  I hate self-help books. I hate them so much that it’s almost pathological. I hate them so much that when I see people reading them, I want to yell at them for prostituting their literacy.   They are insipid things, creeping up on people, pretending to offer the answers to lifes’ problems, yet containing little more than some words arranged in a way that gives the illusion that the author may have some vague idea about how to ‘fix’ things.   The myriad of...

  Of the many things that astonish me about modern ‘love’, the one that gets me the most is the ability of a diamond engagement ring to turn a nice, everyday woman into the-bitch-bride-from-hell.   I’ve been a bridesmaid on numerous occasions, and, without exception, as I clutched a damp tissue and waved goodbye to the bride and her brand new groom as they departed for their exotic honeymoon, I have thought exactly the same thing: “I’m so glad you’re leaving the co...

  I used to work with a fellow who had a younger sister with cerebral palsy. He often spoke with pride of her high intelligence and academic achievements, and also of her occasionally mischievous nature.   I remember one occasion when he told me, with some excitement, that she had been chosen to be interviewed by a journalist from a major magazine on behalf of the students at her university.   The day of the interview came, and he waited for her phone call ...

I cannot keep still in my sleep.   I for some reason assume a sleeping position my husband has named ‘the starfish’ (arms out, legs out), thus occupying the entire bed.   From there, I for some reason like to hurl the blankets across the room with great force and smash the bedside lamp, occasionally followed by bestowing my sleeping husband with a thump on the head.   (Neither of us has any idea why I do this. Happily, my husband ch...

  When I lived in Sydney and went to work every day, I was what one might call ‘well-groomed’. (Okay, technically, I was what one might call ‘groomed to within an inch of my life’). At the time, I never gave my intensive self-cleaning-and-preening a second thought. It was as much a part of my routine as eating or sleeping.   I had a job. I worked in an office building. Every other person that worked there did exactly the same thing. Looked exactly the same way. That the...

    Just when you thought it was safe to go back to your blog ...   Here is my question to you, dear reader, regarding my dear friend the blog spammer ... if it has to annoy me with its’ endless blah links and ads, then don’t you think the dopey bollocks could at least have the decency to make some fugging sense ?.   I can't believe it has 'Penis Erection' as one of it's links. Why must it torture me ?. Why ?. ‘Penis Erection’ ???.   &...

  Were you born before 1970 ? ... do you remember ‘the good old days’ ?. Webs were for spiders, and websites were spots you avoided walking in your garden. Surfing required water, nets were for fishermen, and a megabyte was what you took when you were really hungry. A hard drive was a difficult car trip, a download meant a truck had turned over, and a virus was something you went to the doctor for. Wallpaper went on walls , blinds stopped the neighbours peeking in, and wi...

    ... ' Words so stupidly long that they shouldn’t exist, but somehow do anyway' ...     Prestolonaslenikovica ...  is Serbo-Croatian for ‘wife of an heir apparent’     Anticonstitutionnellement   ... is French for ‘anticonstitutionally’     Precipitevolissimevolmente ... is Italian for ‘as fast as possible’ (!)     Dyeryevopyeryerabatvayushchego ... is Russ...

The ‘proper’ terms for the ‘detailed causes of death’ that are recorded on official paperwork are, despite their morbid subject matter, actually kind of funny. It stands to reason that a vague “motor vehicle accident” or “gunshot wound” is not enough information for statisticians, courts or government records. The death certificates issued for public record contain brief factual descriptions on a need-to-know basis, yet there exists an expanded list of ‘detailed causes of death’ that ...

I hate yellow cars, and it seems I am not alone !. Initially, I had no colour preference for a car. I was 16. I just wanted one that moved. My Toyota Corolla was sunshine yellow. Bright, bilious, happy, sick-making yellow. I loved it. For three days. Then a drunk guy smashed into it. It got repaired, but it happened again. The thing was like a magnet. It was the most obviously bright object in any given setting. I think it made angry people even angrier. It was like driving a moving ...

I read a while ago about the concept restaurants “Dinner In The Dark”, and although there are none located anywhere near us, I was intrigued by the concept. Basically, there are no lights at all in the restaurant, and the staff are visually impaired. Upon arrival, you are guided to your table and seated by the maitre’d, the wait staff read you the days’ menu choices, and you make your selection. (Of course, Braille menus are available on request). Imagine it: yourself and your comp...

I was watching the (Australian) television show 'The Panel' last night, and the subject of 'mooning' came up. Specifically, they were discussing the fact that an Australian Olympic swimming medalist had begun to pull his track bottoms down during an athletes' celebration with the intention of 'mooning' the other athletes, and had been 'removed' for questioning about the incident. Apparently, Olympic officials has not been sure what the swimmer was 'planning to do'. As 'mooning' is kn...

Art imitating life ?. Uh, make that death . Although I can't say I have much interest at all in art auctions, I found a recent example of art imitating life that I loved in spite of myself. British auctioneers 'House and Son' recently auctioned a figurine of Anne Boleyn, 2nd wife of Henry VIII, who was beheaded in the Tower of London in 1536. After the successful bid was made, a member of the auction house staff, whilst attempting to remove the figurine from display, accidentally k...