Happy Halloween

With it being Halloween today I thought I'd get into the spirit of things and dedicate today's post to all things spooky.  If my maths is correct, which is unlikely, this will be my second Halloween in Australia and I have to say, things seem to work pretty much the same as they do in England.  Except we don't get trick or treaters here because our front door is too hidden out of sight.  I do love Halloween, simply because I love fancy dress and this gives me another excuse to dive into the costume box.  I'm actually working today so have plans to wear my devil horns and tail.  That's about as far as I'll go as I have to stay in uniform.  Back in England, in my previous job, we used to go all out with costume for Halloween as we only spoke to customers over the phone and didn't actually have to see any of them face to face.  One year I won a prize for best dressed witch, which was cool.  The year after that I went as a ghost.  I literally had a sheet over my head and had cut eye holes so I could see what I was doing.  That was a funny sight.  A sheet wearing Little Stalky with a headset on.  If only the customers knew what I looked like!  The only thing that would have made that costume better would have been roller skates.  I could have had the floating thing down to a tee.  Or more likely fallen on my butt as I'm clumsy and not very graceful.  There were a few of us dressed as ghosts that year and I remember seeing a huddle of them chilling near the drinks machine.  I figured I should join them.  Ghosts sticking together and all that.  So then there were about six of us, all wearing sheets, just hanging near the drinks machine.  The funny thing was - as if that's not funny enough - you weren't ever really sure of who you were talking to.  I also used to carve a pumpkin and put it in the kitchen window.  Apparently this is they way to let trick or treaters know that you don't mind them knocking on the door.  And I don't.  Little kids wearing cute costumes with their parents aren't doing any harm and I don't mind buying a bumper bag of sweets once a year.  Lets face it, we all know who'll be getting the left overs.  And the little kids are normally very polite and will just take the one sweet.  The thing I don't like is the teenagers.  Especially the ones who make no effort with the costume.  That's just not cool.  But ignoring the teenagers, Mystical Roo and I used to enjoy creating a Halloween experience for our trick or treaters.  Or rather I did.  Mystical Roo was happy to take a back seat whilst I answered the door, keeping an eye out for any teenagers.  I would always wear a costume and one year we even set up the dry ice machine from Mystical Roo's DJing days.  The doorbell would ring, I'd grab the bowl and Mystical Roo would set off the smoke.  So when I opened the door in full witchy gear, a load of smoke surrounded me and then came out of the door.  I'm surprised we didn't make the little ones cry but they seemed to think it was cool.  And so did I.  I'm just a big kid at heart.  So now with a hidden door and restrictions on my costume wearing I'll just have to do the best I can.  But it's all good.  I have attached a picture of me in my ghosty costume for you all to laugh at.  Happy Halloween everyone!

Little Stalky gets Accosted in the Library

One of the natural habitats of the Little Stalky is the library.  I adore books so I guess it's a good place for me to be but there's something else about the library that I find very calming.  So, book worm that I am, and apparent lover of library lurking you can often find me at - yes you guessed it - the library.  Sometimes I'm on the hunt for a particular book but other times I just like to browse and see what takes my fancy.  On the weekend I took a little trip to the library and was browsing the shelves when I heard heavy breathing behind me.  I couldn't help but picture a scene from Ghostbusters and wondered whether our library was haunted.  A quick sideways glance confirmed that it was not.  It was just a rather large man who was breathing with the exertion of standing up too long.  So, I continued browsing when suddenly two books were shoved under my nose.  I looked up a little startled and realised the heavy breathing man had stopped.  He actually wanted to let me know how good he thought the author of these books were and how much he enjoyed them.  That's fair enough.  Why not share your reading passion with a fellow library goer.  But then he decided that I absolutely had to read one and was waggling the books in front of me with such fervour that if I hadn't taken one I'm sure he would have fallen over.  I thought he'd leave me to my browsing.  Little Stalkys are not always the most sociable of creatures and I like to do my librarying (an official term) on my own.  But no.  After he'd praised his favourite author and forced a book on me he then wanted to slate other authors.  Cormack McCarthy to be precise.  He who so famously wrote The Road and No Country for Old Men.  He was ranting about how bad the author was and I just kind of stared, wondering whether it would be rude of me to run away and what kind of repercussions I would face if I disagreed with him.  Eventually he moved on and I was left wondering why I'd been accosted in the library.  Perhaps I look like an uneducated and illiterate fool who would select a bad book.  Maybe it was somehow obvious that I needed guidance.  Maybe the dude just wanted someone to talk to.  But libraries are not the place for talking.  Libraries are the place for reading.  For browsing.  For being quiet!  Maybe I should have shushed him and then legged it.  I know I'm being harsh with my whinging but the other thing about Little Stalkys is they don't like being told what to do!

A Dozen Eggs?

I have notoriously bad hearing and whilst some might say it's selective hearing I know better.  It's all that ear wax!  I'm so lady like.  Anyway, I'm often mishearing things, not hearing things at all and basically just make things up as I go along.  Most of the time I'll just tell people to speak up but sometimes I can't be bothered and just try to figure things out using what I thought I heard.  Not always the best idea.  If we go anywhere loud, like a pub or something then I tend to just kind of sit smiling, sometimes nodding, hoping that no one has actually asked me a question.  At work I have difficulty with the softly spoken folk who seem to mumble their way through every sentence.  This is not helped by the notorious fridge of doom that sits in reception.  It is by far the noisiest fridge in the world.  Ever.  It drones on and on all day and drives us all fruit loopy.  We had a technician out to take a look at it but he said there was nothing wrong with it.  It was normal.  Normal?  There might be nothing wrong with it per se but there's something fundamentally wrong with the design if that's the noise it makes.  So, standing anywhere near that bloody fridge I have to raise my voice so that the customers can hear me.  They don't always return the favour and I'm left trying to piece things together.  So when a man came over to ask for some eggs it took me three goes just to ascertain that fact.  Eggs ok.  Yes we have eggs.  Do you want a dozen or half a dozen?  A dozen.  Ok.  I was about to head out back when I noticed a selection of eggs sitting happily within the fridge of doom.  Had the customer not noticed the eggs?  Had the fridge mastered some kind of sinister mind control that stopped people opening the door?  So I politely pointed out that there were eggs in the fridge.  The man looked at the fridge, looked at me and shook his head.  No there's not.  What the frick?  I did a double take just to make sure I wasn't going loopy and hoping the fridge's extreme powers of mind control weren't making me see things, politely - always politely - advised the customer that there were indeed eggs in the fridge.  On the second shelf.  Plenty of eggs.  The man gave me a puzzled look and confirmed once again that there weren't.  Well this was just baffling me.  I decided to get some clarification.  Sorry, it was eggs you were after?  No, not eggs.  Pegs.  Pegs!  Well that certainly explained a few things.  I had wondered why he'd seemed confused when I'd asked if he wanted a dozen pegs.  Bit stingy if you ask me.  And of course pegs don't live in the fridge.  That's just silly.  I retrieved the customer's pegs and apologised for the confusion.  He left and I made sure to give the fridge evils.  Bloody fridge of doom.  I can see we're going to fall out.

The Wink Etiquette

After recently pondering the wave etiquette I would now like to discuss the wink etiquette, which until recently I hadn't considered.  That was until a wink incident occurred in Woolworths.  Or a wink faux pas.  All of this in my favourite place to have adventures.  Hmm.  Was I the recipient of a rogue wink gone wrong?  No I was not.  I was in fact the winker!  It was a wet Sunday afternoon and Mystical Roo and I had gone to do the grocery shopping.  I was loitering by the trolley, whilst Mystical Roo browsed the shelves and I took it upon myself to send Mystical Roo a wink.  Why not.  I was feeling in a cheeky mood. So I looked across the aisle, locked eyes with Mystical Roo and gave him the wink.  A wink and a smile in fact.  He's a lucky man.  Now the trouble with this wink was the fact that it got intercepted by another man.  An unknown man who also happened to be in the aisle, with his trolley, doing his shopping.  So the unknown man intercepted my wink and looked up to give me a winning smile.  Oops.  I hung my head in shame and couldn't help but giggle when Mystical Roo returned and I confessed that I had inadvertently winked at a random man.  Actually I hadn't winked at a random man.  I'd winked at Mystical Roo but the random man had assumed I was winking at him.  Oh how the tables had turned!  No longer was I the person embarrassed because I thought someone was waving at me who wasn't.  I'm now the person who winked at someone and got a response not from the person I'd intended the wink for.  I'm the winker.  Mystical Roo is the dude who is standing behind you and should be stood to the side.  The side dude!  So when considering my wave etiquette and the shame felt when receiving a wave not intended for my appreciation I had not considered how the waver would feel.  As the winker, who could also be a waver, I was somewhat embarrassed.  Embarrassed that I'd winked at a stranger.  Embarrassed for the stranger that thought I'd winked at him.  It's just winking waving madness.  So what is the wink / wave etiquette when you're the one handing out rogue winks and waves?  Loudly announce that the stray wink or wave was not intended for the stranger responding to you?  That's surely cruel.  Wink or wave again to save them their embarrassment?  No.  You don't want to encourage them.  You don't want to engage in conversation lest your deed be revealed in all it's random glory.  So, stop waving.  Stop winking.  For the love of God don't turn your wink into a twitch to try and mask your winking.  Just carry on as normal.  Return to your activity and remain calm.  Don't giggle!  It's just cruel.  And if you must giggle, a la Stalky, then bugger off to the next aisle.  And if you bump into your stranger whilst going for milk, a la Stalky, then go and get something else instead.  Like grapes.  Everyone loves grapes. 

A McDonalds Madhouse

Travelling back from Sydney with my trusty Mystical Roo I had an urge for a Happy Meal.  As you do.  So Mystical Roo dutifully pulled off the road and directed us towards the drive-thru where I thought we could whip in, whip out and get our butts back on the road.  But nothing is so simple in Little Stalky world.  Is it Stalky fans!?  There are two lanes, if you like, leading in and we of course selected the one that would move at snail's pace.  In fact, there was only one car in front of us but the occupant was obviously either ordering for fifty or having trouble making a decision.  Either way we were stuck behind that white car whilst all sorts of mayhem unfolded on the other side of us.  I figure the drive-thru is a fairly straight forward kind of thing.  You place your order at the speaker thingy, you drive through (the clue is in the title) and pay for your meal and then you drive through again to collect your meal.  Then you eat your meal and play with your happy meal toy.  So first of all this woman came flying towards the drive thru, totally missed where the entrance was and ended up driving up the wrong side of the drive thru into a dead end.  She had obviously realised her mistake and started to reverse but this proved to be a trickier task than one would think.  So whilst the woman was zig zagging her way away from the dead end this other dude comes whizzing into the drive thru.  He doesn't miss the entrance but he does miss the speaker.  After failing to stop to actually place his order he gets down to the "collection zone" and then he too has to reverse back out of the drive thru.  So Mystical Roo and I are still stuck behind the driver in the white car watching with raised eyebrows as two drivers try to reverse their way out their mistakes.  The introduction of the second reversing car is obviously too much for the first woman and the second car seems unaware that there's another car also trying to maneuver.  Two cars reversing in the same space.  It's too much!  Too much!  At this point our white car finally got his butt moving and we were able to proceed so I never did find out whether those two got out of their tangle.  And it wasn't just the cars getting themselves into all kinds of mischief.  It turns out the McDonalds lady had got herself in a bit of a flap too and had charged the white car for my Happy Meal and was trying to charge us for whatever it was he had ordered.  Apparently just the single meal so God knows why it had taken him so long to choose.  Perhaps it wasn't him after all.  Perhaps it was the McDonalds lady.  So I watched as my Happy Meal got handed to the car in front, returned from the car in front as the McDonalds lady desperately tried to get assistance from anyone who would listen to her.  Poor girl.  The whole crazy situation was finally sorted out just as one of the reversing cars arrived behind us.  Looks like they did manage to untangle themselves.  We made a hasty exit from that madhouse, keen to put as much distance between us and those dodgy drivers from the beginning of the story.  We drove back towards home with me eating the square chips and Mystical Roo eating the pointy ones.  A happy ending.  

The Wave Etiquette

The other day when I was walking to work someone started waving at me from their car but I couldn't see who it was.  Just a hand waving.  I figured it must have been me they were waving at because there wasn't anyone else around.  Unless there were some invisible folk out there it must have been me.  So I waved back.  It seemed like the polite thing to do.  But have you ever done that thing where you think someone is waving at you so you wave back but they're actually waving at the person stood behind you.  Why is that so embarrassing!  And why is that person, the one who is always being waved at, standing right behind you.  Stand to the side dude.  To the side!  And the thing is, when you realise your error you don't just accept your mistake and move on.  No, you start to come up with some elaborate idea to make it look like you didn't wave, even though you did.  Like going into some sort of demented hand waving dance.  I wasn't waving at you.  I was dancing.  Duh.  Or flapping your hand through your hair as if to say, I was raising my hand to groom, not to wave.  Honestly!  Or you carry on waving, focus at some other person who was not waving and pretend you were waving at them all along.  In reality if you just carried on with what you were doing it probably would have generated a lot less attention than the mad dancing.  And that's a fact.  So what's the moral of this story?  Just don't wave at anyone just in case.  No, that would be rude and simply take the fun out of waving.  Wave at everyone all the time.  Why that's just crazy.  If someone waves at you, wave back and if the wave was not for you then carry on as normal and think how the person who initiated the wave was lucky to get waved at by you.  An unexpected wave.  What a nice surprise. 

Itchy Nose of Doom

Oh there's pollen in the air at the moment.  I can feel it.  Literally!  God damned stupid hay fever.  I wondered whether I might be cured with my move to Australia, what with being by the see and all but apparently not.  Today it's the itchy nose that's driving me loopy.  And the sensation that I'm about to sneeze but never quite do.  I end up looking like a dirty little nose picker because I have to keep scratching and rubbing my nose.  No doubt (or nose doubt, tee hee) I now look like Rudolph!  Bah!  I'm never quite sure what sets my hay fever off as I don't coordinate with Monster Noggins' hay fever attacks and I don't suffer on a daily basis.  I've come to the conclusion that it must just be some pollens that set me off and that I don't encounter them all the time.  People are always telling me to take hay fever tablets but they just knock me for six.  Even the non drowsy ones have me heavy eyed and dribbling.  And lets be honest, heavy eyed and dribbling is not a good look for work.  And I don't like feeling sleepy all the time.  So I just put up with the itchy nose and the not quite sneezing sneezes.  Or rather I blog about them as a way of venting my frustration.  But I shouldn't complain.  There are much worse things in life than hay fever! 

Mystical Roo has Designs on the Ocean

Mystical Roo has made the decision to take his first dip of the season today.  Regardless of weather or sea temperature!  I think he's crazy personally.  Yes we might live in Australia but I need to see some serious heat before I go anywhere near the ocean.  Brrr.  So it will be interesting to a) see what the weather has in store for us and b) see if Mystical Roo actually takes the plunge.  He probably will knowing Mystical Roo.  And no doubt he'll go diving in all Baywatch style as well.  I'll be happy to just watch from the beach and guard his towel.  Or, if the weather is bad, happy to just watch from the flat instead.  Mystical Roo will have to find someone else to guard his towel if this is the case.  I think the sea temperature is flitting somewhere between 16 and 18 degrees at the moment.  We're on the South Coast so don't get the warm waters like you do up North.  So the latest from Mystical Roo watch is that he has plans to hit the ocean.  Stay tuned Mystical Roo fans for more updates on crazy man swimming in cold sea! 

Semi Snaffling a Rocking Chair

Mystical Roo is very happy to have recently acquired a rocking chair.  Or semi snaffled a rocking chair.  Or even more precisely temporarily semi snaffled a rocking chair.  It actually belongs to Ammy and Mystical Roo has had his eye on it for as long as I can remember and with a recent move he has offered to give it a home.  Temporarily.  It's a very cool rocking chair and I can't help but think it would look great in our future farmhouse but I'm not sure how long Mystical Roo will be able to hold on to it for.  He's technically baby sitting it.  Taking care of the rocking chair.  It was one of the few things I actually helped lift and move during the move only for it to be returned again.  It still managed to provide entertainment though.  I was under strict instructions to place the rocking chair in the lift - I hate lifts by the way - join the rocking chair in the lift and then rock on the rocking chair whilst riding the lift.  An excellent plan.  And a strange sensation I must say; rocking back and forward whilst moving up.  Just a shame there were no other residents to greet me when I arrived on the first floor.  Now that would have been a conversation starter.  Hello, I've moved into the lift.  With my rocking chair.  Goodbye.  After a quick peek at the new digs the rocking chair was subsequently returned to the lift, where Mystical Roo had his go rocking and riding before it was bought home to Chez Stalky.  The rocking chair now has pride of place in lounge where Mystical Roo, of the semi snaffling variety, likes to read the newspaper.  Lovely

The Anti Hoon

I'm getting sick of the bloody hoons around here.  Yes, hoons!  Boy racers.  Hooligans.  Miscreants who are causing havoc and disturbing the peace!  Bloody hoons.  In their stupid noisy cars, with their stupid spoilers and stupid blacked out windows and stupid loud music.  Stupid.  I rant because they're blighting our lovely little town with boorish behaviour and irresponsible driving.  In the middle of the night you can hear them doing circuits with their tyres squealing and engines revving.  In the day time you can actually see the buggers as they take the corners too fast and don't look as they approach the roundabouts.  One of them was showing off the other day and nearly lost control of the car.  That would be great wouldn't it.  Because a stupid hoon was doing something reckless in a car they lose control and plough down a bunch of pedestrians.  I can't believe these people are actually allowed behind the wheel of car!  It's a little terrifying.  And you know that when they do inevitably cock up it won't be the one behind the wheel who ends up hurt.  They have no right to go speeding through the town with no thought for the people who actually live here.  Mystical Roo and I were considering some sort of protest with signs on the zebra crossing, choosing to let through only those we considered non hoon like but then we figured we'd probably get run over.  The zebra crossing is evidently invisible to many hoons.  So I guess we'll just have to put up with it until someone with more authority than Little Stalky decides to take action.  Maybe I'll have a word with our local MP.  For the time being I choose to ignore their attention seeking behaviour and scowl at their stupid spoilers.

The Lizard is on the Move!

We seem to get various bugs and things hanging out in the office at work, part of the Australian summer I guess, but the other day we had a full on lizard incident!  I was sat at a desk when one of the girls came out, attention focused on the floor, declaring the lizard was on the move.  The lizard?  We have a lizard?  Well apparently so.  The not so little dude came whizzing through the office at great speedy only to head straight out into the reception area.  Apparently he'd been hiding out for the last few days and making the odd appearance.  We tried to usher him back outside but he headed for the safety of the fridge instead.  There was no coaxing him out from under there so we left him be hoping that he would find his way home by himself.  Poor little dude.  God knows what he's been eating for the past few days.  Maybe a selection of the aforementioned bugs!  Good job lizard dude.  We could do with a few less bugs and a few more lizards.  Perhaps if he doesn't want to go back outside he could become office mascot.  I could introduce him to Eddie and Elizardbeth from out front.  Hmmm.  So, lizards in the office.  All in a days work!  

Little Stalky: Star in the Making

Do you ever see pictures or footage of women with their hair blowing in such a way as to make them appear like ethereal goddesses?  They're normally looking thoughtful or have a dazzling smile.  I've often wondered about this look but have yet been able to achieve it.  It's not say I haven't been caught in the wind on numerous occasions, it's just that my hair will not do as it's told.  The wind will get me from behind and blow the hair in front of my face so as to make me look like Cousin It.  Or there'll be sea spray in the air and the hair will stick to my face.  Or I'll be wearing lip balm and the hair will attach itself to my lips.  Fairly sure that hairy lips is not a popular look.  But it's obviously not a natural breeze that gives these models that special kind of hair billowing effect.  It's probably a big fan or something.  But ingenious Stalky that I am, I have come up with another way, for those of us who don't have access to giant fans.  Get yourself a Dyson.  Or more specifically one of those Dysons that follow you round the house not the upright variety.  Now I'm sure you're thinking, that crazy Stalky, doesn't she realise that hoovers suck they don't blow!  But it depends where you're stood.  As I discovered the other day whilst doing my housework, if you're stood in the right position behind the hoover whilst doing the hoovering then you get a rather strong gust of wind heading in your direction.  And it whips your hair up into a right frenzy!  I was caught by surprise at first when my hair whooshed back from my face but then I realised the potential benefits.  Glamorous hoovering people!  I might look fairly ordinary in old jogging bottoms and a t-shirt but I can still have the glamorous hair-blowing-in-the-wind look whilst doing my hoovering.  And if I incorporate that with my compulsory singing and dancing whilst hoovering then I'm practically a pop star!  I could make a music video with my hoover.  I can sing above the roar of the hoover.  I can dance with the hoover.  And in turn the hoover can act as my portable fan as I groove around the house.  Little Stalky:  Star in the making!   

Little Stalky and Mystical Roo see Dolphins!

Mystical Roo and I were driving down the main street of our little town over the weekend when I caught sight of something in the harbour.  My Stalky senses were tingling!  I was pretty sure I could see fins and content that there was no danger of land dwelling or ocean dwelling shark behaviour I alerted Mystical Roo to my spot.  Dolphins at three o'clock!  We did what any normal pommie would do and whipped around to the car park before running across the green armed with a camera.  I know we shouldn't partake in such tourist like behaviour in the town in which we live but it was dolphins.  Dolphins!  There was a little crowd gathered near the rocks including one gentleman who was waving at the dolphins like they were old friends.  Perhaps he's a dolphin by night.  Who knows.  Any hoo, Mystical Roo was on camera duty as normal.  My shaky hand and penchant for clumsiness do not make for good photographs.  But the dolphins were just beautiful.  They were diving in and out of the waves, gliding through the water without a care in the world.  We watched them round the headland and it was then we realised the Dolphins were on their way round to Monster Noggin's neck of the woods.  So we ran back towards the car, Mystical Roo jogging like a pro talking the whole way, Little Stalky panting and wheezing and trying no to look like a remould.  We zipped off towards the next beach, where Monster Noggin has a rather nice beachfront apartment and launched up the stairs to announce that dolphins were on the way!  Exciting news!  We interrupted Monster Noggin from hair straightening activity and confirmed that dolphins had been spotted and were headed this way.  We were sure of it.  So the three of us stood by the windows watching the ocean and sure enough the dolphins arrived.  I think Monster Noggin was pretty impressed that we could predict this kind of dolphin activity!  Mystical Roo got some more excellent photos and we watched in awe as the dolphins surfed with the waves before heading onwards to the next beach.  I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to seeing whales and dolphins like that.  I hope I never do.  





Dolphins from Monster Noggin's Apartment





Little Stalky Frowns Upon Weird Creepy Car Man

I had a bit of an unnerving experience on my walk to work the other day and I wasn't sure whether to write about it or not but in the end I decided I would, if just as a reminder to the ladies out there to be alert when on your own!  I was on my usual route to the holiday park, tracksuit donned, rucksack on and earphones in.  As I was walking through a residential street this random car pulled up next to me, I assumed to ask for directions.  I took out my headphones and looked at the driver who promptly decided to tell me what a nice body I had.  Eugh, eugh, eugh.  What the hell is a Little Stalky supposed to say to that very weird comment.  So I raised an eyebrow and offered a vague note of thanks.  The driver then went on to tell me he'd had to drive past me a number of times just to get a better look.  Great.  And you're not coming across as creepy or stalkerish at all.  Then he asked me if I was single.  No I most certainly am not.  I have a Mystical Roo thank you very much.  It was at this point that I made a hasty getaway and ran the rest of the way to work.  Now I'm sure this guy was just being cheesy but it's just not right to pull up next to girls as they walk on their own down the street.  And this was in the morning in broad daylight.  I made sure to tell the girls at work about my creepy encounter and they asked me if I got the rego number.  To be honest I hadn't even thought about it.  I just wanted to keep on moving.  But it's a lesson to the ladies out there to be alert when walking on your own.  Even if it is in a residential street with people mowing their grass and the middle of the day.  Some people are just weird.  Be alert and be aware of who's around you.  If someone does pull up next to you don't go near the car and if you feel like running then just run.  And if you feel like screaming then just scream.  Don't let anyone push you around!  But don't worry anyone who's worrying; I'm fine.  Little Stalky can be a fiesty little bugger and weird blokes in cars can just jog on.

Little Stalky Loves Grapes

There are lots of reports flying about at the moment claiming that Australia is one of the most obese nations in the world.  Mystical Roo and I were discussing this and wonder how much of this is down to the ridiculously cheap junk food over here.  I thought fast food was cheap in England but here it's outrageously cheap.  And there are fast food places all over the shot.  Mcdonalds, Hungry Jacks (Burger King to the pommies), Red Rooster, Dominos, Pizza Hut.  They're just everywhere.  So everyone is surrounded by fast food places that sell their food at such low prices.  I suppose it's no wonder some people are sucked in.  Now I do like a bit of junk food just the same as the next person but I wouldn't want to eat it all the time.  Yes I like a cheeseburger but I also like strawberries and cherries.  I'd support a tax on all of this fast food if there was some way of cutting the price of the healthier items that I enjoy just the same.  I'd happily pay more for my pizza if I could get a huge bag of grapes for a better price.  I love grapes.  I think I'm on to something here but I'm not sure everyone else would agree with me.  On that note I'm off to eat some grapes.  I love grapes.  

The Mother of all Thunderstorms

My goodness when it rains in this country it really bloody rains.  It's like it decides to get a few days worth of rain out in one ten minute slot.  As I write this there is the mother of all thunderstorms happening outside and with Mystical Roo yet to return from work I'm looking all wide eyed and nervous.  It's like the storm is right above the flat and refuses to move on.  The lighting flashing outside is so bright that it's lighting up the living room.  And then the thunder that follows seems to rumble on for an age.  Can thunder actually make the room shake?  Because it feels like it.  It feels like a giant is doing a jig on the roof.  How very inappropriate!  I see the lightning flash and I feel myself flinch like I do when waiting for fireworks to go off in the sky.  I know there's going to be a beasty rumble of thunder to follow but I don't quite know when it will arrive.  The first lot actually caused me to jump and even yelp slightly.  What a wimp.  The sea looks impressive though.  The storm seems to whip the waves up into a frenzy and it's really churning out there.  All I can say is it's a damn good job I got home from work when I did.  If I'd been caught out there in this I would not have been a happy Stalky!

Little Stalky Meets a Flower Spider

I was happily minding my own business, heading towards the kitchen in search of snacks when something bright caught my eye.  I turned back towards the sofa and realised the thing that had caught my eye was in fact a fluorescent spider!  It was bright green with a yellow butt and a red blob.  Crazy random spider.  Now I'm not particularly fussed by spiders but living in the land of Oz I thought I'd best use caution.  You never know which spiders are the bitey, try and kill you variety.  So I eyed my fluorescent spider thinking that Mystical Roo would approve of the colours and wondered whether I should try and usher it outside or let it be.  The spider hadn't made any move to flee but it was wagging it's legs at me in what I can only assume was a kind of spider version of shaking ones fist.  I figured the spider probably didn't approve of me looming over it.  I tried to take a picture of it using my phone but with bad zoom and a seriously shaky hand I didn't have much success.  I suppose a phone is a phone.  There's only so much it can do.  Especially with me in the driving seat.  So I left my little fluorescent spider chilling on the sofa and decided to google it just to check if I was in danger of being nibbled.  It took me a while but I think I finally identified it as a flower spider.  Harmless to humans.  Phew.  With my harmless flower spider seemingly happy in his spot and with a name as friendly as flower spider I thought I'd leave him be.  He stayed there all afternoon, even until Mystical Roo came home.  I introduced them but Mystical Roo was greeted by more spider fist shaking.  Mystical Roo was back into photographer mode and promptly got his proper camera to photograph my little friend.  We then decided it was probably time he went back outside.  We wouldn't want to sit on the poor little bugger or anything.  So Mystical Roo found him a nice leaf and we haven't heard from him since.

Little Stalky and Mystical Roo go to the Rainforest

I must say we do live in a beautiful area of Australia and have so much right here on our doorstep.  On Sunday Mystical Roo took me to the rain forest, which is about a 5 minute drive down the road.  It's amazing that we can travel such a short distance and find ourselves immersed in the rain forest.  The trail takes you deep into the bushland, over bridges that overlook the river and up towards a waterfall that sits at the end of the walk.  It's truly breathtaking.  And literally breathtaking.  I'm a bit fitter now than I was the last time we did the walk - all that walking to work I guess - and was able to make my way up the hills without crumpling into a panting heap.  I did consider asking for a piggy back at one point but that was more because I thought it would be fun.  Who doesn't love a piggy back!  We bumped into a few other walkers but it was quiet that day and very tranquil.  We reached the waterfall and there was hardly anyone else about.  The last time we came we saw a python doing a python dance on one of the rocks in front of the falls but this time he wasn't there.  We did however, see a headless possum, which was certainly not as cool.  Poor little dude was just lying underneath a bench.  At first I thought it was a really big mouse or something and then I realised it was a possum.  Without it's head.  The strange thing was there was no blood or gore or anything.  It was just a body without a head.  Mystical Roo and I decided it was a kind of possum cold case.  How had this possum died?  Why had something taken the head but not the body?  We decided that something bigger might have come along and scared away the thing that had killed the possum, but then why didn't that bigger thing take the possum for itself.  A possum mystery.  On a less morbid note we did see a couple of lyre birds, which are much bigger than I remember.  They walk in a kind of shifty way that make them look suspicious before digging amongst the dirt.  One of them scared the hell out of me by suddenly appearing from out of the bush and running off.  Made me jump!  We also saw a monster spider sitting on a rock that looked suspiciously like a funnel web.  Oh yes a funnel web - only one of the most deadly spiders in the world!  Mystical Roo did what any normal person would do and got his camera out to photograph the beast.  Don't worry though, Mystical Roo and Little Stalky were a great distance away from the potentially deadly spider.  The camera just has an excellent zoom.  When we got back to the gift shop we did some investigating and concluded the spider was actually a nurse web spider and not a funnel web at all.  Deadly to it's fellow insects but not to humans.  Well that was a relief!

Squiffy Stalky Signals

It's a disappointing morning when you go to have your breakfast and realise the milk has gone off.  Yuck.  I had my cup of tea ready, my cereal in it's bowl but when I went to top up my tea the milk congealed and sat floating on the top in little lumps.  One sniff of the bottle confirmed the milk had turned.  Dag nabbit.  I'm not the same in the morning without my cereal and cup of tea.  Especially on a work day.  Bah!  I settled for jam on toast and...water but was determined to have a cup of tea when I got to work.  At this point Mystical Roo was at the gym so I had the idea to leave him a message to see if he could grab some milk on his way back.  I called his mobile, waited patiently and then realised there was somehting ringing in the bedroom.  Excellent.  Mystical Roo had gone out without his phone.  Shocking.  Anyway, I was sitting on the sofa scowling at my glass of water when I had the idea to try and send Mystical Roo psychic messages asking him to pick up some milk.  Psychic messages.  Worth a try.  So I focused on Mystical Roo, called his name in my head, gave the voice in my head a little woooey ghost noise and when I felt I had his attention started repeating milk over and over.  Then Milk for Stalky.  Then, bring back milk for Stalky.  I put a lot of concentration into my psychic messaging and thought I'd done a good job of communicating my message but when Mystical Roo returned there was no milk.  Such dissapointment.  Didn't you get my messages?  What messages?  My psychic messages?  Ok............So I guess psychic messaging Mystical Roo didn't work.  Perhaps my signals were squiffy and got lost on the way.  If my sense of direction is anything to go by it wouldn't be a surprise.  So if anyone out there comes home with a random bottle of milk but isn't sure why, it could be because you've picked up squiffy Stalky signals!  However you milk donation would be kindly received. 

What's in a Name

I was thinking about names the other day whilst Mystical Roo and I were bickering over the name of our snake, who incidentally is called Boris and NOT Snakey.  Or Justin.  And Boris isn't even a real snake.  He's a toy wooden snake that looked so life like he was banned from the office and sent home with Little Stalky.  So I may have hidden him in a few folders and caused a few squeals but did poor Boris really deserve to be banished?  Poor Boris.  So I was wondering why we're drawn to some names and not to others.  When naming things, wooden toy snakes for example, how can we like a name and dislike others.  Is it the sound the name makes when you say it?  The way it looks when you write it down?  Personally I think it's all down to name association, or in many cases bad name association.  Mystical Roo and I have discussed this and decided where there are names we dislike it's because we knew someone of the same name who, for whatever reason, we didn't like.  Maybe it was the kid who was mean to you at school, the boy who smelt a bit funky, the girl with a strange association to land dwelling sharks or the cow bag (now there's a word that's not used often enough) who tormented you in the office.  Either way, if the only person you knew with the name Boris had flicked bogies at you on the bus then I guess the name Boris wouldn't be associated with the best of memories.  Maybe that's why Mystical Roo is insisting on calling the snake Snakey.  He knew a Boris the bogie flicker.  Now Mystical Roo and I haven't done much naming in our time but when we first got our rabbit there was much debate over what he should be called.  We settled upon Robbie for comical reasons that I won't go in to but on the list was Al, David and Fluffy.  It's strange that Robbie seemed to suit him perfectly.  Was he always destined to be a Robbie or did we just become accustomed to knowing him as Robbie, therefore assuming the name was always meant to be.  All I know is that it was never going to be Al or David.  Or Pacino for that matter.  Mystical Roo vetoed Fluffy and that was fair enough.  Robbie was never going to be a Fluffy.  I name all of my stuffed toys, which I think is a fairly normal thing to do.  Even if you are a 25 year old woman.  Some of my names are not very inventive.  My toy penguin is just penguin.  And Tigger is Tigger.  But then Tigger is Tigger so you can't go messing with that.  When Monster Noggin bought me a toy platypus after I'd had my wisdom teeth pulled we named him Attacus for the rhyming value.  Attacus the platypus.  I have no idea what Attacus means or if indeed it does mean anything.  But if it does mean something and I've offended anyone, please accept my sincerest apologies.  I wonder if Mystical Roo and I ever have to name something important, like a llama or something, how long it will take us to reach an agreement.  Maybe we never would and it would be the whole Boris / Snakey / Justin situation over again.  I'll call it one thing, Mystical Roo will call it another and we'll never reach a solution.  Well I'm not sure I'd be happy with that.  There's only one way to fix this.  Name tags! 

Little Stalky Doesn't Like Being Shouted At

Today I am pondering the frustrations of working in customer service.  I seem to have worked in some form of customer service related job since I was sixteen and as much as I do enjoy working with people, sometimes I want to throttle the buggers.  You can have days where you come across some really nice folk, people you can chat to and have a laugh with.  Then you have days when you get some evil people who can be downright rude.  And the thing about these rude people are that they're never happy no matter what you do.  Everything can be going perfectly and they're still rude and obnoxious.  Then if something does go wrong they turn into demonic beasts who somehow think they're justified in yelling at the girl behind the counter.  Yet you get other people who will voice their complaints politely and calmly, without turning into foul mouthed chavs who still get their point across just the same.  In fact it's these people who I will go out of my way to help.  The frustrating thing about these people who like to go off on a rant and a rave is it's often their own fault that somethings gone wrong and they just want to blame someone else.  Like booking a room at a holiday park in another state but arriving at ours instead.  That's obviously my fault.  And I must fix it.  And I'm happy to offer my assistance but please don't launch an attack at me for your mistake.  You see these people everywhere and I have to wonder what they actually do for a living themselves.  You find that most people who work in customer service - and a lot of people do - are very polite and understanding when they find themselves the customers as they know how it feels to be on the other side.  So with the majority of people having to deal with people in some capacity I want to know who these shouty folk are and why they feel they have the right to screech at others.  I hope to be a customer amongst the shouty folk one day so that as a customer I can defend the person on the other side of the counter.  A teenage girl who's obviously just started a weekend job does not have the authority to give you your sandwich half price just because you don't want salad.  Don't be impatient with her if she has to ask her supervisor for assistance.  Fussy ladies demanding to split their bills when it clearly states this service is not provided are the real reason you're having to wait in the queue, not because the sales assistant is going too slowly.  We are entitled to a lunch break at some point during the working day so if you have to wait thirty seconds whilst we swap places in what has been the busiest day ever, I'm sure you won't tut and roll your eyes at us.  I'm not saying that there aren't some seriously bad workers out there because there are, I've seen them in Woolworths (joking!), but sometimes people need to be cut a bit of slack.  We're all human and most of us are friendly individuals.  Let's all be nice!

Bad Films, Good Times

El Kenco reminded me the other day of some of the seriously random films we've seen together.  The weird films that skipped the cinema, skipped DVD and went straight to channel 5.  Certainly not great pieces that will go down in history but films that are so bad they're actually quite funny.  Even when they're not meant to be.  El Kenco and I used to hang out in the kitchen and watch films together, normally whilst eating cheese, dry spaghetti (apparently this is weird), raw carrot and other items snaffled from the cupboards and fridge.  Maybe this is why we ended up in the kitchen watching films; so that we had easy access to various snacks and treats.  Either way, it became our place to watch random stuff that no one else was interested in.  It was like a sister thing and even now there are some things that only El Kenco understands and appreciates.  I know I can see something crazy on TV and think to myself, yup, El Kenco would totally get that.  And she does the same.  Our favourite random film and the one that got me thinking about this was the dodgy poltergeist film we saw many years ago.  It wasn't the poltergeist film just a random rip off that had bad acting, random stunts and most memorably, a roast chicken that somehow sprung back to life and went for the throat of a party goer.  The fact that the actor was blatantly holding the chicken up to his neck whilst pretending to wrestle with an inanimate object was simply hilarious.  I think I remember it being attached to a bit of string and then whipped across the table.  Who knew that demonic roast chickens were an issue!  I remember El Kenco and I used to insist to Rabby that there were axe murderers in the world and that was a big danger.  Rabby would scoff at this until one day he came in whilst we were watching a random channel 5 film where a woman was being chased by a man with an axe.  Our point was made.  There were indeed axe murderers out there.  One New Years eve we stumbled across what we now know is the Rocky Horror Picture Show.  This is a cult classic and I can't categorise this with the other rubbish we've seen but as kids suddenly faced with transsexual aliens from Transylvania our eyebrows were raised.  I think we actually asked permission to watch this.  So there might be some random films out there but they can make for a most entertaining night of viewing.  I have very fond memories of chilling out with El Kenco and if we still lived in the same country I think we'd still be having regular film nights.  Damn you thousands of miles gap!  But anyway, I know there'll be some random films on the cards when El Kenco comes to visit.  And Margaritas.  I can't wait. 

Say That Again, I've Forgotten

I really must give up watching TV as it just seems to infuriate me for various reasons at the moment.  So the latest thing that is bugging me is the way programs use up half of their air time repeating what's just happened before the adverts.  Bah!  Oh and before the adverts we get a taster of whats to come after the adverts.  So we basically see the same thing three bloody times.  Here stupid people, here is what's going to happen, here it is actually happening and look, just in case you've already forgotten or are too stupid to keep up, here is a reminder of what's just happened.  What the hell?  I think it's getting worse too as more programs seem to be following this format.  Are they really dumbing down television so that we can all just stare at the screens blankly or is it just lazy television where they can't be bothered to film more material.  Or, more likely, is it the television folk saving money by reusing material over and over.  Highly frustrating.  I miss a nice long drama on the BBC where once it starts it starts and if you can't keep up then poor you.  There's no adverts, there's no annoying voice over giving you a running commentary, there's just a program that starts, continues uninterrupted and then finishes.  And if you need a wee then you just have to hold it in!  

The Cow Goose Partnership

I don't know if this is something isolated to Australia, but I've honestly never seen it happening back in England.  The thing I'm talking about?  Well that would be the cow and goose friendship that seems to be blossoming across that nation.  And I know you're thinking, that crazy Stalky, what the hell is she on about this time.  I'm talking cows and geese, hanging out together in fields.  But it's not like there's a bunch of cows and geese all chilling in a crowd, no, there is one goose to each cow, or one cow to each goose and they just stand next to each other.  It's a cow and goose partnership!  I first noticed this in one particular field that we drove past on the way to work but now I've seen other new fields where the same thing is happening.  Look there are some cows.  And look there are their geese friends.  What I want to know is what this partnership is all about?  Do cows and geese have something in common that makes them great friends?  Do they both just really like grass?  Or maybe the geese are like cow groupies or something.  Perhaps the cows act as massive bovine body guards to their feathered friends.  All I know is there's one cow, there's one goose and they stand side by side.  One cow.  One goose.  Just innocent cow goose behaviour or is there something more mysterious going on here?  Don't worry Stalky fans, I'll investigate and keep you informed.  Until we discover the secret just keep an eye out.  Where the cow lurketh, so lurketh the goose.

Little Stalky and Mystical Roo go to Dinner

Why is it that when you're running late everything seems to go wrong.  As if being late isn't frustrating enough, then obstacles start getting chucked in your direction just to add to your torment.  On Friday Mystical Roo and I had decided to go out for a meal together as a special treat.  We were really looking forward to it but with us both working that day there were delays and we got home about ten minutes before our table was booked for.  I hate being late for anything and as much as Mystical Roo tried to calm me down I was still dashing around the house like a woman possessed.  I'd already anticipated a bit of a rush that night so had done my hair and make-up with the intention of not having to touch it before we had to leave.  All I had to do was get changed.  Easy.  Yes.  But then I caught sight of my chin and forehead and decided I had a bit of a shine going on.  A bit of powder will fix that.  And it normally does.  So when I rushed back into the lounge why did Mystical Roo give me such a funny look?  Dude, you look totally bruised.  Bruised?  Why this was not the look I was going for.  How can I possibly look bruised.  I launch myself into the bathroom, where I must say the light is much, much better and realised Mystical Roo was correct.  I did indeed look like someone had walloped me in the face.  The horror!  The bloody make up brush had picked up some of the black eye shadow powder from my eye brush and I'd inadvertently smeared black eye shadow over my chin and forehead.  Shiny is not a great look but it's not as bad as faux bruising.  I hurriedly tried to rub the powder off but realised there was still a dark shading that now made me look like I had stubble.  I frantically returned to my make-up case and retrieved the offending brush.  Being careful to remove all the black powder I re powdered and returned to the waiting Mystical Roo.  He confirmed it was better.  Better because my skin was hidden under numerous layers of powder.  I conceded it was the best I could do and we left the house with me hoping the restaurant would have low lighting and plenty of wine.  It did.  And after my initial panic Mystical Roo and I had a delightful evening.  Even if I did spill some red sauce down my white top.  Oh Mystical Roo, he's a lucky man to have a lady such as I. 

Little Stalky gets an Entourage

With the weather getting hotter by the day my walks to work are starting to get harder.  Trudging through the wind and rain in your foaming waterproofs whilst trying to keep hold of your leopard print umbrella might seem tough but it's really nothing compared to the laborious walk under the beating Australian sun.  Now that's tough.  It wouldn't be so bad if I was just walking to the beach or something but turning up at work hot and sweaty is not cool.  So in the summer I tend to take longer getting to work, forcing myself to keep a slow pace to try and stay cool.  Yesterday I got my first taste of full on sunshine and whilst I expected to get hot I didn't expect the entourage of bugs that decided to tag along.  Bloody bugs!  They latched on to me pretty much as soon as I'd left the house and continued to swarm around me like crazed insect like fans.  Imagine them with tiny cameras and they'd be the pest paparazzi.  At first I bat them away hoping that they'll find someone else to terrorise but no, they insist on staying.  Buzzing around my head, landing on my arms, my face, zipping in front of my eyes, dive bombing me from a great height!  I started to worry that people would think I was a little hobo or something.  I don't think it's a good look to be hanging out with a swarm of flies.  Yuck.  It then occurred to me that people were probably more interested in my strange moves as I continued to lash out at the bugs, which to be honest, were probably invisible to onlookers.  Once again I manage to attract attention for all the wrong reasons.  I became more and more frustrated as the bugs continued to torment me and my flapping became so irate that I pretty much slapped myself in the face.  Great.  And then a bug flew into my mouth, which caused a very ladylike coughing and spluttering.  By the time I arrived at work I was hot, sticky and covered in dead bugs.  It's about time Mystical Roo bought me a jet ski.  Then I could skip this walking malarkey and simply ride to work via the ocean.  Wet and salty versus hot and sticky.  Hmmm.  

Little Stalky Goes Swimming

On Sunday morning Mystical Roo somehow persuaded me to get out of bed and go for a swim with him.  I'm not sure what his trick is as generally exercise first thing on the weekend doesn't overly appeal to Little Stalkys.  I can only assume there were promises of chocolate or sweets or something along those lines.  Anyway, we head off to the leisure centre and it's relatively quiet leaving me relieved that we seem to have made it before the kids.  We head off to our respective changing rooms but not before I've made Mystical Roo promise that he'll wait for me before getting into the pool.  I don't know why but I don't like getting in on my own.  Also, once he gets in and starts skimming through the water I have to concentrate to find my Mystical Roo amongst the others skimming through the water.  With heads down and arms up everyone starts looking the same.  I quickly get changed and grab my towel before nervously exiting the changing room.  I hate doing this.  I'm sure no one gives a damn about me or what I'm doing but it just feels like everyone stares at you when you walk towards the pool and I'm suddenly aware that I'm practically in my underwear!  I do a quick scan for the Mystical Roo but he's nowhere to be seen.  Has he gone back on his promise and headed for the water without me?  After a quick scan of the pool it seems doubtful.  No, he just hasn't come out of the changing room yet.  I hold my towel in front of me like a security blanket whilst I wait for Mystical Roo to arrive.  When he emerges he's dripping wet.  Ah the before swim shower.  I've forgotten about that.  I wonder how much my dryness is being frowned upon.  Oh well, I'm a fairly clean kind of Stalky.  So we head into the pool, Mystical Roo taking a swoop down the stairs, me tentatively climbing down into what I think is fairly cold water.  It's exercise Little Stalky, you warm up once you get your body moving.  Great.  Mystical Roo looks for a lane but there are none left so we settle for the kiddie section, which is actually devoid of children for the time being.  Mystical Roo sets off like some sort of fish - eugh fish - whilst I lightly glide away like, I don't know, a puppy in water or something.  I am not a strong swimmer.  Nor am I a good swimmer.  Or a fast swimmer.  I settle for a gentle breaststroke and keep my head above water.  I have no problem getting my hair wet or anything it's just I can't seem to coordinate my breathing if I try to combine swimming and head dunking.  I know I look like an amateur, especially amongst my supper swimming Australian counterparts but I don't care.  What is concerning me slightly is the elderly lady doing slow walking laps keeps beating me to the end of the pool!  Is it wrong to be competitive with an old lady?  I'm fairly sure she was becoming competitive with me.  Anyway, I increased my game, paddled a little bit harder, but still she beat me!  Bah!  So on one side I've got a walking lady going faster than me and on the other side I've got Mystical Roo who does about four laps to my one and "accidentally" splashes me in the face every time he shoots by.  I continue with my rough kind of breast stroke before I discover it's more fun to pretend I'm dancing in the water.  I suddenly have a gracefulness that I never have on dry land.  After a bit of twirling and leaping in the water whilst pondering whether land dwelling sharks hang out poolside,  Mystical Roo finally stops for a breather and announces it's time to head for the spa.  Oh joy!  This is the real reason I come swimming.  To go and sit in the spa.  And I think I earnt it.  After all my hard work doing the breast stroke and being beaten in the pool by walking old ladies.  Now if there was only some way to orchestrate a spa session without the exercise beforehand I'd be a very happy Stalky. 

Little Stalky Gets the Hiccups

Oh how I hate hiccups.  They're so annoying.  And seem to take ages to go away!  It doesn't help that I have hiccups as I'm trying to update my blog.  It makes typing a little tricky and I'm receiving constant abuse from Mystical Roo and Bob-A-Roony in the form of mocking, teasing and attempted theft of my double decker.  And I'm not talking about a bus!  I don't hiccup in a nice lady-like way either.  I have full on, Stalky jumping, squeaky sounding, bad ass hiccups.  Thank God I'm just in the office with Mystical Roo and co and not at other work.  If I had to serve customers today I think I'd scare them all away.  I don't know what triggered this burst of hiccups.  I just got up to steal something from Mystical Roo's desk, sat back down again and voila.  Hiccups.  Maybe it's hiccup karma for stealing from Mystical Roo's desk.  But honestly, I only took the bog roll to wipe something from my desk.  Surely I don't deserve the wrath of the hiccups of doom.  I've been trying to hold my breath to rid myself of these hiccups but all this results in is a slightly quieter hiccup followed by much panting from a Little Stalky who's been holding her breath too long.  I even tried swallowing three times in a row, which is really hard by the way, and still I have the hiccups.  Well, Mystical Roo and Bob-A-Roony are getting their comeuppance for mocking me.  Now they have to put up with my hiccups all afternoon.  Ha!

Little Stalky Gets Bored

I've noticed recently that when I'm bored I seem to channel all of my energy towards Mystical Roo.  Regardless of what he's doing.  And it's not that I want to interrupt Mystical Roo whilst he's in the middle of reading his book or something it's just that I get so caught up waffling I forget that I might be disturbing him.  I know it's hard to imagine me as a chatterbox but really, I do go on a bit sometimes.  I think it's hereditary.  So Mystical Roo can be happily minding his own business and I'll decide to start wittering on about something totally irrelevant, random or more often than not disgusting.  And he'll look at me as if to say why now?  Why do you decide you want to chat now?  Because I'm bored and want attention.  And I think sometimes Mystical Roo can block me out if he wants to but that only leads to various counterattacks where I'll decide I want to play with Mystical Roo's hair, or pick resin of his leg, or launch objects at him from behind the sofa.  Poor Mystical Roo.  He takes a lot of flack. 

The Evils of Unnecessary Packaging

I think I have mixed feelings towards packaging.  I know I'm easily sold to and am drawn to anything bright and shiny but I also know I find it really hard to open most packaging so end up resenting it.  After our recent Woolworths adventure I now have feelings of frustration towards what I can only describe as totally unnecessary packaging.  Packaging for things that really don't require it, or certainly don't require the level of packaging that has been provided.  Some items are given what can only be described as the Fort Knox of packaging.  If you're lucky enough to break through this impenetrable barrier then well done you and please accept your wondrous booty.  A toothbrush.  It's packaging mayhem out there and such a waste of material, most of which will no doubt end up in a landfill somewhere.  Why did the pack of scouring pads I bought require me to go in search of scissors to get through the plastic of their packaging.  Admittedly we all know that I'm prone to not being able to open things but really, why did they need the plastic packaging in the first place?  And you get some packaging that even the scissors won't get through.  The type that you consider taking a knife to, or perhaps even a blow torch.  Those turn out to be a maze of packaging.  Just when you think you've reached your product you realise there's a whole other plastic box to carve your way through.  And when you're done with that the thing is fixed in place with wires that are tied so tight you can only get through them with scissors but you've already wrecked the scissors trying to get through the first layer of evil plastic.  So then you have to go and buy yourself another pair of scissors but they're so wrapped up in packaging you need a pair of scissors to get in to them but you don't have any scissors because that's the reason why you wanted to buy scissors in the first place!  As you can see this is sending me into a frenzy.  So I shall stop my rant and end by saying packaging is getting out of hand.  Someone please stop the madness!

Mystical Roo Loses his Keys

To me Mystical Roo is an almost perfect kind of fellow.  But one of the few things Mystical Roo isn't very good at is remembering where he left things.  His wallet for example.  Or his phone.  Or his keys.  Or his camera.  The list goes on.  There are numerous occasions where I will hear Mystical Roo shuffling around before uttering the all too familiar "have you seen my...."  So when Mystical Roo lost his keys it was no great surprise.  And I have my own set of keys and Monster Noggin has the spares so it's not like we were locked out of the house or anything.  But Mystical Roo did have the only set for the garage.  And the only set for the post box.  Cue super snaffling Stalky!  The only trouble was a lot of the post had dropped right to the bottom and was out of my reach.  I dangled my hand in further than it's ever gone before, but still I could not retrieve the mail that was awaiting us.  Furthermore, the only mail I could retrieve was the mail that had been put in their incorrectly by the postman and actually belonged to the hairdressers.  So I returned their mail with a polite smile whilst secretly cursing the fact that my own mail continued to go unopened.  I was pondering some sort of coat hanger creation as a device for getting at my post when a week or so later Mystical Roo announces that he has found his keys.  Thank God.  But where were they Mystical Roo?  In the car?  Down the back of the sofa?  In a drawer perhaps?  No.  They were on his desk.  Hidden beneath a single sheet of paper.  Who knew that paper was so wily; capable of hiding a massive ring of keys for several days.  I think it's about time Mystical Roo tidied his desk!