Now, where was I? Oh yeah...

Heather loves Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen (aka The Olsen Twins). I try to overlook this lapse in good taste (hell, any taste) by attempting to soothe myself with the repetition of a small Mantra - "She won't always be 12, one day she will be too old for this shit".

It doesn't really help, you know?

She is rabbiting about buying clothes from their range of horribly overpriced "make my little girl look like a slut" clothing. She watches them on TV; she reads about them in magazines... she even hires their bloody movies for dvd night. The phrase "Mary-Kate and Ashley" has become a euphemism in this house for "Oh God, I am going to vomit again". It could come out sort of like; "I'm going to have a quick Olsen down Mr Ed, the Talking Horselain".

She insisted on having one of their movies last week. When we went to Civic (minus Heather) for our dvds tonight, our most favourite weekly excrement-agitator gave Adam a wind-up. It was a good one. He said to Ads; "Hey, I have that dvd you wanted to watch here, the Mary-Kate and Ashley one". Adam says; "like Hell". The Agitator says; "Don't be like that, your Mum booked it specially cos you wanted to watch it". "Did you?" he says to me? "Of course" says I, "I rang up while you were away at camp". The Agitator is cracking up, I'm cracking up and Shari is damn near wetting herself by now.... and Adam still didn't quite get it.

I think he has figured it out now...

So, in the car on the way home, we hatched a plan to catch Heather out next week. It's a goody and it's already been implemented. We told her that the Agitator was pleased that her M-K&A dvd was finally back cos they are taking them all off the shelves and burning them cos they are such a talent-free zone. She said "noooooo, that's not fair, why can't they give them to me?" I said "well ask the Agitator next week if you can have a couple..." Now, she is all loaded, primed and ready to fire.

Besides, the family that plays together, slays together.

The Agitator's name is Damien... is that some sort of "Omen", maybe?

~~ They're creepy and they're kooky,
mysterious and spooky,
they're altogether together ooky,
The Adams Family. ~~

---

Now, where was I? Oh yeah...

I have been cleaning my daughter's room, and as I have been cleaning, a loud echo of my mother's voice has been playing in my head... "Where are all my teaspoons? The cups have all vanished..."

I know where they were, now; they were hiding under the piles of crap and toys and books and clothes on the floor in my daughter's room all the time.

Prostitution isn't the oldest profession, mothering is. Even the first prozzies (before they were prozzies, of course) had mamas cleaning their caverns for them, grunting that the auroch-antler spoons and the mammoth-tusk drinking cups were missing and demanding that the recalcitrant troglodytette stop drawing on the walls and go sweep out their crevice and straighten their furs.

Some things just never change.

Rock on.

~~ I love kids, but I don't think I could eat a whole one ~~

---

Now, where was I? Oh yeah...

Everybody loves me, yes they do, and I have been getting lots of email to prove it. Why? Cos there is a cadre of brainless coozers scattered all around this lovely planet of ours that are brain dead enough to blithely open attachments in their email, without wearing their antivirus condom and install viruses made by wannabes... Not quite sure what it is that they wannabe.... but it's akin to something nasty on the bottom of your shoe only much lower down the evolutionary ladder. Like lower than a snake's belly.

Dumb fucks :-(

But wait, there's more! The reason why it's so easy to help some poor énfant terriblé make his or her mark on the world is because there is another cadre of fuckwits who feel the need to pass on hoax virus information to every poor schmuck whose email address they have stored in their mail client's address book, therefore exponentially increasing the chances of them receiving a real virus in the very near future.

God preserve us from cyber-morons. It ought to be Law that a license is required to operate a computer.

Most people have heard the stories about helpdesk staff at major IT companies (sometimes inappropriate) responses to clients' problems; like the oldie but goodie Urban Myth about a customer being told to put their computer back in the box and take it back to the supplier cos they are too fucking stupid to own one. OK, so maybe that one is a bit OTT, but there are some seriously stupid individuals driving computers around the web and other users (and sometimes unfortunate helpdesk staff) around the bend. In making computers all but "idiot proof" for the masses to play with, they seem to have made it mandatory for every idiot of the masses to operate one, as well.

Bugger.

I got spammed this morning
Like I got spammed last night
The whole world's getting spammed to death
Cos someone's brain's made out of shite

Bastards. All of 'em.

~~ We wanted to do something really special for your birthday. . .
so we're having you put to sleep ~~

---