Little Stalky is Thwarted by Gobbledygook

The more I do on the Internet the more I come across those weird verification codes that you have to type in before you're allowed to go any further.  And I find them infuriating.  I understand the need for them but honestly, do they - whoever they are - have to make them so hard to read?  Most of them are so jumbled together that I can't work out whether I'm looking at letters from the English language or some alien symbols from a far off planet.  So I often find myself squinting at these codes, trying to work out what the word is only to realise that it's not a word at all.  It's complete gobbledygook.  If it was a word I might have a better chance of getting the code right as I could give it an educated guess, but when I'm faced with "AgjRytt" the odds of me guessing correctly aren't great.  I will inevitably have numerous failed attempts, which result in much grumbling on my part, before I'm finally offered a code I can just about read.  Where the letters aren't conjoined in such a way that makes them look like someone sneezed whilst holding their pen.  The trouble is, by the time I've sorted the verification code out the website will inform me that my chosen password isn't confusing enough and I have to start all over again!

Little Stalky is Baffled by Monster Chooks

I've noticed, whilst doing my food shopping, that Australia seems to be home to some rather large items.  Salmon portions for example.  We never used to get salmon fillets the same size back in say Tesco or something.  Here they're huge.  So big in fact that we buy one portion, cut it in half and still have plenty for each plate.  But I guess that's all down to how the salmon is cut and here in Australia they're obviously more generous with their cuts.  But what about chicken breasts?  Surely a chicken breast is a chicken breast and that's that.  So how come the chicken breasts here are comically large?  Ginormous!  The chicken breasts we buy here are just massive.  They belong in the same category as those ridiculously over sized sweet potatoes.  I can only imagine that there are massive chickens roaming around Australia.  Monster chooks that would tower over their pommy counterparts.  This can be the only explanation for these crazy big chicken breasts.  What are they feeding these chickens?  Protein shakes or something!  The only thing that baffles me further is that we seem to find it impossible to buy a decent sized chook to roast.  They're all piddly little things that barely serve enough for a Little Stalky and her Mystical Roo.  So how come, if there are huge chicken breasts out there, seemingly taken from massive chickens, are we unable to locate a massive chicken to actually roast!  I am beyond confused with this one. 

Step Away from the Bronzer!

I've really got to stop watching day time TV whilst I do the ironing as it seems to send me into a frenzy.  This is never a good thing when holding a hot iron!  Today I've been watching that same woman who annoyed me before by announcing to the world that if you don't have curves you're not a real woman.  Well this same presenter has today been discussing the benefits of bronzer.  On men.  Now I'm not going to judge anyone who wants to wear bronzer and if there are guys out there who care that much about their tan then whatever but they'd pulled in this poor bloke and started to analyse his skin tone.  He was about fifty.  And a butcher!  And these stupid people are telling him he needs to where bronzer.  Why does he need to wear bronzer?  If he wants to wear bronzer that's ok but why does he need to wear bronzer!  They then start advising all of the men out there to start dipping into their girlfriend's beauty supplies.  I like to think of myself as a fairly open minded person but if I caught Mystical Roo dipping into my beauty supplies I think I'd be a little concerned.  Not only because he'd most likely be destroying my products but why should Mystical Roo be wearing make up.  Mystical Roo no!  Put the bronzer down.  There's already enough pressure on women to wear make-up and look perfect but now it seems men are being attacked too.  For not wearing bronzer.  When in the world did it become a frowned upon thing for a man to not be wearing bronzer.  Sometimes I think I must be behind the times.  But honestly, I don't care.  

Return of the Roach

Oh yes it's warming up over here and I found more evidence that summer is on the way in the form of a dead cockroach sprawled on my counter top.  Oh I shudder at the thought.  These particular beasties are huge.  Just monstrous.  And they appear as soon as the weather starts heating up.  It seems that they find there way into people's homes via the drains in the bathroom and then the invasion begins.  Every now and then you see one scuttling across the carpet and boy can those things move!  For seemingly ungraceful, large beasties, they're rather speedy.  I don't dare splat one of these things for fear that the resulting mess would not only cover the walls but also Little Stalky.  I kind of imagine they would spit out a smelly green goo or something.  Not only that but the size of these things would make me feel like I was killing an animal and then I would feel sad.  So, bashing the cockroaches is out of the question, which inevitably leads to a Little Stalky chasing a cockroach around the house.  Sometimes I'll arm myself with a magazine in the hope of getting some scoop action going on.  Other times I'll grab a glass with ideas of trapping the beastie before freeing it onto next door's balcony (joking!).  I think I've even tackled the situation with a broom.  The trouble is the cockroaches don't want to go back outside and seem to do everything in their power to stay in my flat.  They slip and slide their way off the top of the magazines, they zig zag across the floor at such speed that I become out of breath - out run by a cockroach; oh the shame - , and they're so big that some of the buggers don't actually fit underneath a glass.  Now that's just freaky!  Freaky and sneaky.  The cockroaches like to launch various sneak attacks which always result in a screaming Stalky.  Sometimes even a hip hopping Stalky.  And I don't rap, only when drunk, this is more of a hopping from one foot to the other as I react to seeing a cockroach hiding next to the toilet.  If I had skirts on I'd be flapping them.  I have learnt, however, that cockroaches do not appreciate my screaming.  In fact, as soon as I start screaming they seem to run around in circles in an attempt to escape.  So after pleas to Mystical Roo that a cockroach was guarding the toilet, refusing to let me enter and receiving little assistance I decided I would continue to scream at the cockroach until it left the bathroom.  Surprisingly this worked, though not before I looked like a crazy woman giving short bursts of scream in an attempt to rid my bathroom of the big black beastie.  And it's not just the household that these cockroaches invade.  They're everywhere.  We've been walking home from the pub of a night and all of a sudden something will shoot out in front of us.  Christ! Was that a cat?  Why no, it was a monster cockroach.  And they zig zag in front of your feet like they're trying to goad you.  Shifting in and out of the shadows like masked monsters.  And yes, coming back from the pub we may have had a drink or two, but I know they're out there.  Lurking in the dark.  Waiting to launch their cockroach attack.  But the one I found the other day, first cockroach of the season, was lying on it's back and was certainly not feeling well.  I have no idea what it was up to but something or someone thwarted it's attempts.  I didn't have to scream at it or anything.  Perhaps my cape wearing do-gooder, thwarter of demonic domestic devices is actually a cockroach crusader too.  A caped cockroach crusader!  I see I'm going to have to keep my eye on Mystical Roo.  I don't think I've ever seen them in the same room at the same time....