I'm A Winner Wednesday Week 6 is.........

Yay for Miss H!! Who happens to be my younger sister Hayley. After months of following my blog she has finally figured out to post a comment. Dudes it's not easy, I know this. It's harder to decipher than the Divinci Code.

Anyway my sister doesn't live in my house so therefore is eligible to enter if she pleases. Just so you know it's not a set up, please see evidence below.

After much consideration, I've decided to make some changes to Winner Wednesday starting this Wednesday.

On the first Wednesday of every month I will announce the prize up for grabs, which will contain a multitude of cool shit. Not just one item.

The competition will run until the end of the month & anyone who comments on any of my posts for the entire month will go in the draw. Yep we are upping the anti folks. I can't make this winning business easy. And I'm talking like multiple entries. Booya!

You MUST be a follower of my blog & can only have one entry per post. So even if you comment a thousand times on one post it won't give you a thousand entries. Capiche?

I know ya'll are really struggling to contain your excitement right now, it's buzzin me out.

Anyway, I want to give big sloppy thanks to all my long time followers for sticking with me over the past months & getting your comment on. If you haven't won anything yet, don't be disheartened, because you have won my love. And that shit is like gold dust. Just ask Disco Stu aka my husband.

Please don't send me hate mail. I have sensitive feelings.

Now, you know already how much I fucking detest seagulls right, well this morning I was awoken to a seagull fight club going on outside my bedroom window. Some intelligent human that works at the restaurant next door to the motel overfilled the garbage bin which had in turn splayed out onto the road outside our apartment. Those gulls fought yo. They fought hard & long & FUCKING LOUDLY at 6:30am this morning.

It's a mixed breed fight club too. Obviously racism is not an issue for seagulls.

After laying there listening to the competitive squawking & angry bird screaming  for 2 hours, my rage overruled my yearning for a sleep in. So I got up & went outside to attempt to restore some sort of order to my quiet Sunday morning without the use of a weapon.

This isn't easy for me as my natural intuition is to cap the fuckers. But unfortunately in my country you go to jail for harming wildlife & shooting shit in public. Blah blah blah law abiding citizen & all that. Personally I don't think seagulls are classified as wildlife. They are the hobo's of the bird kingdom.

They all basically scarpered when I ventured outside but a few lingered for some much sought after photo opportunity to try & up their rep within society.

It's now 11am & they are still going at it. Only the hardcore fighters linger. I've lost interest.

Before I sign off for the day, big snaps & WELCOME to all my new blog readers. I vow to keep my shit funny.

Goddess of funny, Noa Gavin at Oh Noa featured me in her Funny Bitch Friday post which excites me to the point of delirium. She is funny as hell!! And it's an honour & a privilege to be in such excellent blog company, along with the rest of the League of Funny Bitches.

Peace out!

What are your hands wearing this season?

I know you are probably expecting the Saturday shit list but to be honest, I just don't have anything worthy of my passionate hate right now.

My week has been all kinds of exhausting dumbness. Including such dramas as me worrying about losing my job in a months time. Or being told that someone I am very close to has advanced cancer. And also worrying that my husband has still not found new employment as yet.

Some would say the future is looking bleak for Mr & Mrs D right now. However, I'm not one of those kids that revels in my own pity, mainly because I don't care much for that sort of blatant self imposed misery. So fuck it, we'll deal to that little bitch called Life, not a problem. You just got to roll with her bull shit & remind her from time to time who's boss by giving her a quick sharp jab to the undercarriage. Thankfully this is something I'm rather excellent at.

Contraire to the tone of my copious hate rants, I'm actually a total optimist. Who would've thunk it.

Anyway yesterday I bought these......

Do you like what I did with this picture? Made it all mystical & shit. Oooh.

I know what you are thinking right now.

You: "What the fuck are you wearing on your hands?"

Me: "Oh yeah them. They are my hand socks".

You: "Hand socks you say. Well they look stoopid".

Me: "No they don't" *whilst second guessing myself & looking at my hands wondering if they really do look stoopid & what was I thinking purchasing such a heinous crime of fashion.

Me pauses then looks You right in the eye in complete defiance with a facial expression somewhat similar to this small Asian child.

Defy me muthafucka. Just once. Go on.

Doing a hand gesture that can only be compared to this......except maybe a little less angry.

Yeah you. Fark aaaaawf.

Me: "Nup. I totally rocking the hand socks".

They have sequins on them. Every modern girl knows that gloves, jazzed up in this manner, can take ones hands from ordinary day time hands to dressed up night time rave hands. So fucking versatile! And nothing says lets get wankered like a pair of snazzy gloved party hands.

Not only are my hands extremely good looking right now, they are toasty as, & just straight up gangsta. I haven't taken them off since I got them except for when I've been to poos & wees. Some would say they totally resemble a modern day, overweight, slightly less translucent, Mike Jacko gloved hands. But no, I couldn't take such glorious praise.

The moral of my story is, when it comes to winter, I will happily look like an asshole if it means I am warm. Luckily **Disco Stu also shares this attitude. There is no limit to our winter fuckwittery attire.

**For those that missed yesterdays post, Blake is having man-fro control problems. I've taken to calling him Disco Stu. He's not too keen on it. I think it's a completely justifiable nickname. I own the vagina, therefore I win.

And now for fun times with Becky & Blake story......

Years ago when Blake & I were mere friends, we were sitting in his old white Mitsi down the main street of town on a Thursday afternoon. People were loitering. One loiterer in particular whom to this day has only been know to B & myself as 'Hobo hands', approached Blake's side of the car, stuck his hands through the open window, asking for a cigarette lighter & some spare coins for the bus.

Blake reeled back on horror upon noticing Mr Hobo Hands had glove socks on in order to hide his fish like scaly & scabby hands that were peaking out the tops. Blake said a straight out no way to the guy then proceeded to wind his window up as fast as he could while Hobo Hands attempted to get all grabby up in his business. He wanted Blake's shit bad. I watched this all from the passenger seat side of the car WHILE reaching over & strategically locking all the car doors.

By the time the window was an inch from being closed shut, Hobo Hands realised his game was up & there was no way in hell he was getting his hands on anything in Blake's car. So he withdrew them just in time but not without leaving some leper hand scales smeared all over the car window

Well I fucking died laughing. Like howling my head off, farting & crying with laughter at the scabby hand shit all over the window while Blake sat dry retching in the drivers seat. From that day forth, we swore we would never don hand socks, because they were only for hobo's with leper hands.

Not so it seems. Hand socks are for cool guys too.

Peace!

Walking With Dinosaurs

I saw on the news the other night, a whole bunch of burly dudes carrying the robot dinosaurs into the Vector Arena loading dock, in preparation for the 'Walking With Dinosaurs' show. The giant robot reptiles were fucking huge, stiff & wrapped in pink sheets. This amused me some.

I spent the remainder of that evening laying around the house in various stiff poses with a blanket over myself demanding Blake guess what I was pretending to be. A robot dinosaur. After the first 2 times he didn't find it funny anymore while I lay under the blanket pissing myself. My impression of a robot Triceratops is awesome. At times, it takes me a bit longer than most to realise shit got not funny. It's my little bit of retardation.

Right from the get go, when I saw this Walking With Dinosaurs experience advertised on TV, I rubbished it. I recall yelling all sorts of fuckery at the TV. I have spent a lot of my life thus far doing exactly that. Blake says I'm too judgey but meh, what does he know. He goes on a nature walks & doesn't eat meat.

Anyway according to my wise home boy, Disco Stu, (that's Blake. He is having man-fro control issues. It's like living with a dude sized fur ball) this dinosaur shit has sold out pretty much everywhere in the world. The people have gone ape for it. Apparently it's great show to take the family to which I don't doubt for a second. However, most of the folk I've spoken to that took their children to see it said that their offspring cried their faces off in pure blind terror. This doesn't surprise me, especially when the ginormous puppet beasts with huge face-eating-off teeth get all up in their grill & roar in their faces. Fair play small humans. I would cry too.

Now me personally, I wouldn't go to this show. Because, & not surprising, I have a few issues with it all. Yep I am about to kill your dinosaur loving buzz.

Firstly, I developed severe robot trust issue after seeing Robocop, as you know, & iRobot. Hello, do you blame me. Anything with eyes can not be fucking trusted. End. Of. Story. This rule also applies to any large machinery, outside toilets & caves. They don't have eyes but have the potential to be just as just as deadly in the wrong situation. I'm am the queen of hazards. Put me in any situation & I will be able to point out at least 10 potential killer hazards. What can I say, it's a gift.

Secondly, what puzzles me more than anything, how do we actually know all this info about dinosaurs? I'm one of those people that needs evidence presented & debated before me, in order to believe something actually happened. Up until that point, everything is bullshit.

I was the annoying curious kid in class that asked the questions that none of the teachers could answer. Especially when it came to historic events & more specifially in religious instruction class. I was made to sit out in the hall because the old guy who used to come to our class once a week to teach us about Jesus just couldn't give me the answer I needed. Pardon me sir for my youthful wonder. I didn't mind sitting out in the corridor though. I got to eat my lunch before anyone else.

Now I'm not 100% certain, but Disco Stu says it's been well documented that no humans existed when reptiles ruled the earth. If humans indeed existed, & had brains, one would assume they would have stayed the fuck inside. Lets say no humans existed right, so what I want to know is, based on the findings of a some old bones, how do we suddenly get all this indepth knowledge about something no one has ever actually seen? Dinosaurs are more elusive than Jesus. Seriously.

These paleontologist folk know all the dinosaur names, their food source of choice, the ability to distinguish the difference between their uber shits, their distinctive mating calls, the texture of their leathery cold skin, how they hunted their prey, what they did in their down time ,how the king of the dino's has small pathetic baby hands, basically every little minor detail about their entire existence. Oh yeah & don't forget how they all got their shit fucked up by the ice age.

These people get paid to figure this stuff out for their job. This baffles me. Because unless they have access to the Tardis or Hot Tub Time Machine, how can they possibly know all  this?

No one was around to document the prehistoric age. Not even David Attenborough. And he's a pretty old fossil who knows more shit than humanly possible. Nor was Speilburg. Just quietly his Jurassic Park movies were epic. Well the first one was. I saw it 5 times. After that they all developed a severe case of suck. I don't do sequels. or prequels. or threequels.

So it shall forever remain mystery to me, all this dinosaur business. Quite sad for my unborn children really but oh well, there's plenty of other bullshit I can feed their tiny minds. Preferably something a little more man friendly, like fairies & I suppose, *sigh, talking animals.

The creators of Walking With Dinosaurs claim that this show is the closest you can get to the real thing. But who even knows what the real thing is? Also after the last shows in New Zealand, the dinosaurs are retiring. What are they going to do? Find employment elsewhere? Can you imagine a velociraptor hanging out the drive through window of KFC. Or the T-Rex stacking shelves at your local supermarket. For the love of jesus christ don't let those little reptile baby hands touch the wine merchandise.

Anyone out their in blog land been to Walking With Dinosaurs show? Did it fill you with giddy excitement & wonder of times past?

Peace!