A silly blog today, though I honestly suspect that most of my blogs are. I am literally compelled to talk about every stupid subject that comes to mind, and today is honestly no different.
So the story starts when my husband and I were sitting on the couch together the other night, watching mindless sitcoms after a long day at work. We hadn't spoken for hours, not because we were arguing, but because after twelve years together you're more than comfortable sitting in silence. Plus, after an eight to ten hour workday having to talk non-stop to a lot of stupid people, it's nice just to shut up for a little.
Anyway, I'd say about two hours had passed. We'd watched the Biggest Loser and ate a shitload of chocolate - moral support and all that. We'd also taken on My Kitchen Rules and naturally scoffed at every meal concocted, knowing we were hardcore master chefs at heart.
In the next instant a commercial rolls around. I hit the mute button - I'm sick of wanting a Whopper with cheese and caramel Sundays at nine o'clock at night because the voice over says I'm hungry ... bastard.
Anyway, hubby then turns to face me, and naturally I'm curious. He takes a breath, straightens up like he has something very important to say, and then, overly animated he says, 'Why do we have hair?' He pats the top of his head and then pulls at a few of the strands. 'I mean really, what the hell do I need all this for?'
I lost it.
Two hours, no talking, a full day of stupid questions from idiotic patrons at work, and my husband asks me why he has head hair. I don't think I've laughed that hard in ages. But, pressing for an answer, I told him that even head lice needs somewhere to live.
So, naturally this has stirred up a whole bunch of questions I really don't have answers for;
1. Why is the sky blue?
2. Why does only when sock come out of the dryer when I put two in there?
3. Why do you get fined if you don't wear a seat belt in your car, but there aren't any in public transport?
4. Why do we teach children to talk when parents spend their teenage years begging them to shut the hell up?
5. Why do we have to make the bed when we're only going to sleep in it again?
6. Why does everything taste like chicken?
7. Why does February get short changed a few days?
8. Why do we have a mother's day and father's day but not an 'everybody else' day?
Anyway, these are just a few. I'd be curious to see what boggles your mind. Leave me a comment, I promise, no judgment! After all, my husband is suss on the whole head-hair thing, and I have no idea why there are only twenty-eight days in February with the occasional sneaky one thrown in.
Have a good one,
Kristy :)
Showing posts with label biggest loser. Show all posts
Showing posts with label biggest loser. Show all posts
Tuesday, 3 April 2012
Saturday, 3 March 2012
Weirdo Neighbours
This could just be one of those occasions where I am eternally grateful for being a hobbit. I leave my house to go to and from work, but once I'm behind closed doors, I tend to stay there. This of course means I have no freaking idea who my neighbours are.
Sure, I'm well aware there's a drunken twenty something on one side of the fence. He makes noise on Friday nights, plays Ping Pong until the wee hours of the morning, and can't seem to aim for shit when kicking balls in his own yard.
On the other side I have a young family with two dogs. I know they have two dogs because they never stop barking and they're basically walking manure factories. Their kid cries non-stop, and they think we can't smell the 'garden' parties they sometimes 'roll' into on a Saturday night.
Across the road I have the Brady Bunch, otherwise known as the Biggest loser contestants - family edition. We have grandma and grandpa, mum and dad, son and wife, the other teenage kid and the two dogs. They worry me the most if the Zombie Apocalypse ever occurs. That is one hungry family and I don't have a front fence big enough to keep them out.
Alas that just leaves the mysterious neighbours on the diagonal. I have lived in this house for over five years and it was only yesterday that I was eating breakfast, minding my own business, that I decided to peep out the window and have a look around. Let it be said now that I knew they had a truck, that I knew it often came and went, but I never bothered to figure out why.
So there I was, eating my low fat cereal and congratulating myself on not cracking open the peanut butter jar again, when I heard the truck doors swinging open and crashing loudly against the metalwork. Curious, I slipped my fingers between the Venetian blinds on my window and had a quick peek. Interestingly enough, the truck was backed right up in the driveway and was now surrounded by wads of black plastic. At first I thought nothing of it, but then there was the thud.
Two men, one of them I think was my neighbour, helped lift an over-sized package into the back of the truck. Said package looked heavy and suspiciously like a body.
So what did I do?
Naturally I laughed and then tweeted about it - the sensible thing to do.
Thus I am happy to reveal that although the nature of my weird neighbour's business does appear shady and somewhat underhanded on account of the rather large unmarked truck, his lack of general day-to-day friendly wave at the letter box, and his seemingly absent wife, he is not a serial killer. Black wrapped plastic and body-shaped packages could mean anything ... anything.
I'm told it's roofing insulation.
Anyway, what has this little experience of the neighbourhood taught me? Simple. Deadbolts are a necessity. Erecting a 6ft fence with barbed wire is not overkill if fat zombies want to eat your ass. And yelling out to my drunken neighbour 'you've lost your balls again' is not exactly productive.
Cheers to the freaking hobbits, I say. STAY INDOORS!
Kristy :)
Sure, I'm well aware there's a drunken twenty something on one side of the fence. He makes noise on Friday nights, plays Ping Pong until the wee hours of the morning, and can't seem to aim for shit when kicking balls in his own yard.
On the other side I have a young family with two dogs. I know they have two dogs because they never stop barking and they're basically walking manure factories. Their kid cries non-stop, and they think we can't smell the 'garden' parties they sometimes 'roll' into on a Saturday night.
Alas that just leaves the mysterious neighbours on the diagonal. I have lived in this house for over five years and it was only yesterday that I was eating breakfast, minding my own business, that I decided to peep out the window and have a look around. Let it be said now that I knew they had a truck, that I knew it often came and went, but I never bothered to figure out why.
So there I was, eating my low fat cereal and congratulating myself on not cracking open the peanut butter jar again, when I heard the truck doors swinging open and crashing loudly against the metalwork. Curious, I slipped my fingers between the Venetian blinds on my window and had a quick peek. Interestingly enough, the truck was backed right up in the driveway and was now surrounded by wads of black plastic. At first I thought nothing of it, but then there was the thud.
Two men, one of them I think was my neighbour, helped lift an over-sized package into the back of the truck. Said package looked heavy and suspiciously like a body.
So what did I do?
Naturally I laughed and then tweeted about it - the sensible thing to do.
Thus I am happy to reveal that although the nature of my weird neighbour's business does appear shady and somewhat underhanded on account of the rather large unmarked truck, his lack of general day-to-day friendly wave at the letter box, and his seemingly absent wife, he is not a serial killer. Black wrapped plastic and body-shaped packages could mean anything ... anything.
I'm told it's roofing insulation.
Anyway, what has this little experience of the neighbourhood taught me? Simple. Deadbolts are a necessity. Erecting a 6ft fence with barbed wire is not overkill if fat zombies want to eat your ass. And yelling out to my drunken neighbour 'you've lost your balls again' is not exactly productive.
Cheers to the freaking hobbits, I say. STAY INDOORS!
Kristy :)
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