funny

Men are from Mars and Women are Earth Mothers

by vix 19 March 2012

It was Mothering Sunday in the UK yesterday and up and down the country kitchens rang out with peals of raucus laughter and squeals of excitement.

The day started blue but worked out pretty nicely in the end

It was the children of course, not the mothers. No, the Mums had escaped the kitchen for a (brief) day, and were lying in bed, their peace only disturbed occasionally by cries of -

‘You dropped eggshell in the batter, you dickhead.’

‘Well at least I know how to cook.’ Read more... (997 words, 1 image, estimated 3:59 mins reading time)

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Bumps in the Night

by vix 8 March 2012

My Mum, Mrs Vegemitevix Senior, lives in a residential community in Australia, and has served (for her sins) as a member of that community’s body corporate.

No loud noise, no enthusiasm, no passion...

Whenever anyone has a complaint, my Mum – all five foot one and a half inch of her – has to go and sort it out.

Whether it be deadly brown snakes in someone’s backyard…

….Mum’ll fix it.

Petrol heads’ cars parking on the grass…

….Mum’ll fix it.

Leaving prawns out in your rubbish in the 38 deg C heat to fester and stink….. Read more... (464 words, 1 image, estimated 1:51 mins reading time)

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I Would Do Anything For Love

by vix 28 February 2012

So says the song, and it sounds amazing. True, passionate, die for you, love.

But would ya, really?

Would you wax your girlfriend's bits, for love?

How about back pimples? Would you squeeze your beloved’s back pimples? Or pluck bum hairs? Personally that’s a poke too far for me, but for some people (mainly apes and others of the hairy species) it’s a sign of endearment.

What about waxing your girlfriend’s lady’s bits. Would you do that? Read more... (362 words, 1 image, estimated 1:27 mins reading time)

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But how does it smell?

by vix 20 February 2012

Adjectives are at the top of a marketer’s tool box, and most of those adjectives are about what something looks like, or how it feels. Very few are about how it smells. Oh sure there are the perfumes and food and wine which are often described in laughable terms.

A nose by any other name would smell as sweet

Does a wine that smell like woodchips or fruity with a hint of grass sound attractive to you? And how about a perfume that smells like ‘sweat’. Oh don’t worry, we are talking ‘good sweat’ not ‘bad sweat’. Remind me again, what does good sweat smell like, if not deoderant? Read more... (703 words, 2 images, estimated 2:49 mins reading time)

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A Boot in the Bum for Kiwis

by vix 13 February 2012

Why are New Zealanders known as Kiwis?

NZers named Kiwi after strong, resilient, tough bush fighters?

Is it because we resemble little round balls of fuzz with green squishy centres?

Actually no.

Is it because we are flightless birds unique to Aotearoa?

Travelling is one of Kiwis’ most popular passtimes, thousands of Kiwis leave each year to go on their OE, and if you go to the furtherest, darkest, snowiest corner of the world I bet you’ll find a Kiwi there pouring a Steinlager, so that’s not it. Read more... (508 words, 3 images, estimated 2:02 mins reading time)

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Green Eyed Shopping Monster

by vix 10 February 2012

I’m a shocker at the shops.

Jealous? Moi?

If I’m not fantasizing about the awful zit on the neck of the person in front of me and how much I want to squeeze it, or chatting wontonly and without invitation to other shopper-victims in the queue, (a real no-no in Britain) I’m turning green with envy. Of course I’m not the ony one, you probably do it too. No? Come on! I bet you have. I bet you turned into a green monster in the computer superstore when you passed those people with ipads stashed in their shopping baskets. We’ve all done it, but I think I’m the only one who does it in the supermarket. Read more... (642 words, 1 image, estimated 2:34 mins reading time)

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The gift that keeps on giving

by vix 7 February 2012

I should have thought it through.

You know when you go out and hunt for the perfect Valentine’s present and you find it so you buy it? Completely forgetting that there are approximately 60 something more Valentine’s Days to celebrate with your husband.

Yeah. That. That was last year’s gift.

So, obviously after buying the perfect gift that keeps on giving, I am now at a loss as what on earth I can buy for my Englishman this year. Somehow a measly box of chocolates looks a tad cheap. Valentine’s is next week and I don’t have anything in mind for the romantic one. Read more... (617 words, 6 images, estimated 2:28 mins reading time)

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Why the cold is driving me nuts but I don’t need a straitjacket

by vix 27 January 2012

I once thought cold meant putting a cardy on. Or switching to the winter duvet.

I don't need a straitjacket, honest, I just need one of these.

I didn’t realise cold meant frozen dog poo in the garden, missing digits and toes and the onset of insanity. I’d iced cakes (and de-iced them when the icing was less than exemplary), but I’d never de-iced my car before. The first morning I needed to do it before driving up the M3 to work, I took it on the chin like the big girl I am.

I cried. Read more... (549 words, 3 images, estimated 2:12 mins reading time)

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Tech Confusion

by vix 23 January 2012

My 74 year old mother has never been one for technology. She says it confuses her.

Brain Drain

But being that she’s living in the technological age, and that she lives in technology savvy Australia, technology has started to make an impact on her life, whether she likes it or not.

First there was the whiz bang answering machine, that is purposefully looped as my Mum is hard of hearing. Then came the new TV, and laptop and medical wizardry. Luckily (for me and this blog! Though it wouldn’t be a problem if she read it, would it? Love you Mum!) she is still on dial-up, but technology is creeping into her life so quickly it is surely only a matter of time until she is whizzing along the WWW. Read more... (566 words, 1 image, estimated 2:16 mins reading time)

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Wardrobe Malfunctions and the Death of Professionalism

by vix 20 January 2012

I’ve learnt to be super careful when I go to London for work.

My cup runneth over and made for the door

It’s not that I’m concerned about my own personal safety, or health (though I often need to wash the grime off my fingers when I return. The Tube is filthy!) No, I learnt early on that I needed to dress carefully.

I’ve become quite slack in my work day dress. It’s not that I work in my PJs or even type in the bath, but I typically wear trousers and casual long sleeved t-shirts. Not clothes that scream professionalism, but then I live in a very non-descript little North Hampshire town, we’re not big on workwear here, unless it’s fluorescent yellow ‘Elf and Safety vests. Read more... (719 words, 1 image, estimated 2:53 mins reading time)

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