Tag Archives: humour

Bathing Beauties

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Hmm. Maybe I shouldn’t include myself in that headline!

I took a bath today. Lumi came knocking at the door, as he always does. I’m well used to Bengals wanting to investigate a tub full of water with me in it after having Spot for so many years.

Lumi stood on the outside edge of the bath, walked down to my feet, turned and carefully made his way back up to my head. He did slip: not only have I recently trimmed his nails but there isn’t any ledge to hold on to. The tub is hard plastic with no possible kitty traction.

He continued on his way back up to my face, then decided to go behind my head and around to the wall side (tiled wall). He had not even an inch of space to walk on, it is angled downward for drainage, and his feet are huge…

I immediately realised there was a big chance of personal injury and quickly sat up so he didn’t use my skull or face as soft, traction-y, things he could claw into and hold on for dear life.

Shouldn’t have worried! Yes, he fell in. No, he didn’t panic, shred me or flail the bath water into foam. He stood there for a second, calmly and silently climbed out, shaking his feet. He didn’t even leave the room!

Luckily I had my phone in there with us, and got a couple of damp shots.

Bengals and water, you never know what might happen!

Bengal Bullshit

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I love Lumi, I really do. But since I’ve been off work for three months, I have become his biggest toy.

I keep hair ties in my pocket to give to him whenever he is awake, and I need to sit down. He has three things he does with them: lose it under the TV stand, lose it under the couch, or take it into the kitchen.

If he goes in the kitchen, the hair tie first goes in the big water bowl. No problem if it is full

…but if partially empty, this happens.

After that, I find the sopping wet hair tie in the dry food bowl, abandoned and smelly.

Tonight I had the trifecta, however. Spilled water. Then a massive puke (in a shoe, did he read how to be a stereotypical cat somewhere?), then one of his patented Giant Smelly Shits.

Now that he has purged from both ends, he is running around the house top to bottom enjoying his svelte new self. As he does.

Stupid Thing(s) You Have Done

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I was going really fast on my bike as a kid. Decided that if I lifted my foot up and slammed it back down, I would go faster!

Missed the pedal entirely, went right off the side of the bike at super fast speed.

I now have road rash scars on my shoulder, hip, and likely under my hair on my head (Gonna shave it all off one day, I promise, just to see).

Even worse, one of my mom’s friends saw me come off and insisted on driving me home and my hip bled all over her brand new car’s blue fabric seat, turning it purple. I was mortified.

Tell me your stupidity! Crazy sunburn? Cooking accident? Driving whoops? I need a laugh so go on!

Schnozz Talk, Part II

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I did it.

I waited until himself was upstairs so I wouldn’t be interrupted or embarrassed.

It went pretty well? I think? Right nostril was first for the inflow. Came right out the other side, no problem.

Left side…it felt different. Colder. It came out of the other side faster, and ran down to my throat immediately. So I guess I know which side is the difficult one! I was able to intentionally close off my throat so it didn’t run into my mouth – and still breathe – which makes me think this is something I do not do involuntarily. Perhaps doing this rinse will teach my muscles to close that part off more often?

There was a strange not-smell immediately afterwards. Similar to what I think of as the smell of a runny nose when I am about to get a cold. I have a lot of drainage still, 20mins later. I’m not getting blocked up or anything. It just feels damp in there. I’m doing a good bit of hawking back snot. It tastes extra salty so maybe I didn’t get all of the rinse out.

Oh, and because I’m both curious and disgusting, I drained into a glass container so I could see what came out. Nothing was black, grey, or green – but there were a lot of white bits. Will be interesting to see if that changes with regular use. You’ll be glad there is no photo with this post! I could have, but I’m not that disgusting.

About a half hour later now and the left side is starting to close up. Well, I’ve had a sore spot in there for a few days so I’m not going to read too much into it.

Oh, joy. Hubby just came downstairs and I told him, ‘I did the nose thing.’

He said, ‘I can hear it!’

‘Wait, what?’

‘You sound more “nasally”. I thought you were putting it on.’

Fantastic. I sound even worse than I normally do, it seems. Sigh.

For those who do this, a question. Once a day or twice?

Schnozz Talk, Part I

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I wake up every morning with a clot of yuck right at the top of my throat. It is solid, it isn’t green, but it has flecks of brown in it.

I googled that shit, after a good few months of waking up thinking I was getting lung cancer.

Turns out that a lot of people have this morning guck. People who don’t smoke, never have smoked, never have smoked anything. So that made me feel a little less cancerous.

Last night, I mentioned to himself that I think I should try a neti pot. Background: My sister has been trying to get me to use one for years. I’m scared as hell by the idea of intentionally pouring anything liquid into my breathing apparatus. I choke on spit. A LOT. Sometimes when I wash my hair water gets in my sinuses and it freaks me out. More of Whhhhhyyyyyy than Owwwww, but you get the idea:

I’m not keen on putting salt water up my nose. I’m for-sure gonna drown. Gonna breathe that shit in, gag and cough until I wet myself. Might as well strip naked and stand on a towel to try it!

Himself brought me home this today.

Oh, shit….

What Scares You?

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I’m scared of large groups of ants to this day because of something that happened when I was about 10 or 11. 

My older sister and I got into a fight when we were home alone (I belive it was about whether Boy George was a man or a woman) and she slapped the HELL out of me. I ran out of the house, around the corner to the next block, and sat on a big lump of dug-up concrete that wasn’t quite on the side of the road but also not quite in someone’s yard. 

I sat there sobbing my little-kid heart out, face in hands, until I felt something bite my right side. I looked down and I was covered from the waist down in gigantic red wood ants.


Aka carpenter ants. Credit embedded in the photo – that is what I looked down on! Those jaws.

I do remember running. I don’t remember screaming.

My sister heard me from a block away (I remember her saying she never heard screaming like it) – from inside our brick, air conditioned house – as I ran for home. She had me strip naked in our back yard and used the garden hose to get the ants off of me. I don’t remember what happened afterwards, but I think our stupid fight was quickly forgotten and I am still grateful that she forgot our silly fight and helped me so quickly and efficiently. Even when I still had her perfect red hand print on my face!

It’s been a few decades since this event, and if I am ever surprised by an ant, or worse a colony of ants, I calmly freak right the hell out. Or at least I think I am calm when falling over backwards to get away…

What scares you, so long after the immediate threat is gone? We likely all have some serious flashback memories – I will never ask for those.  I don’t mean real trauma, but small things like this that have never left you. 

Adventures in ‘Adulting’, With Cats.

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1. Walk into room to put away clean laundry.

2. Step in very large, very wet, puddle of cat puke left on a hoodie that was half on the bed, half on the floor. Coat entire sole of foot with moist, chunky, squidgy, barf.

3. Pick up hoodie and hop carefully into the bathroom to wash off foot.

4. Put foot in tub, turn on water, knock shampoo bottle into tub. Sigh. 

5. Wash foot and complain to yourself about the slimy feeling. Wash off shampoo bottle and replace on edge of tub.

6. Look for towel. Realise they are all in the current load of laundry now sudsing away happily downstairs. Sigh.

7. Do a yoga pose called ‘reaching for hand-towel across the room with dripping foot’.

8. Dry foot. Smile with relief that you have two non-slimy feet again.

9. Rinse hoodie. Complain to yourself about how slimy it is and how that shit is gonna stain for sure and who the hell buys a baby-blue hoodie and leaves it on the bed when they have cats?

10. Try to find a place to hang heavy wet hoodie without it breaking anything important or dripping on something else important.

11. Gain a cat audience – in the tub. 

12. Grab wad of toilet paper to remove giant-ass hairball from tub drain.

13. Realise there is also a giant-ass human hairball in plug drain (long-haired people problems). Sigh. 

14. Grab nasty old toothbrush left on edge tub for the sole purpose of removing human hair clogs. Splash a fabulously disgusting concoction of drain water and cat puke on your face. Growl. 

15. Flush that shit down and hope like hell the toilet doesn’t clog – again.

16. Tell cat that is now sitting in the tub that he is about to get wet.

17. Rinse out tub.

18. Watch cat with wet feet do cartoon-skids on the floor as he tries to exit bathroom. Feel bad as it wasn’t HIS puke.

19. Wash slime off of face.

20. Give up on adulting and drink a beer.


One innocent, one guilty! 

Spheksophobia

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Hope you don’t have it!

Spheksophobia is the fear of wasps. 


I still have strawberries growing – and apparently they are super sweet! I haven’t been able to find out about the last few because something else has been eating them first. 

I knew it wasn’t slugs, or beetles, or birds, or even earwigs. Wasps are eating my strawberries, and loving them! 

Oh well. If they are fat and full they won’t bother sour old me, at least. Not that I’m afraid of them: I’m very much live and let live unless one is in the house and one of the furry ones is about to get stung. Then there might have to be an emergency squishing. 

Lilac Love

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I’m so excited! My little girl is all grown up. ” 🎼 Girl, you’ll be a woman, soon…” horrid song but let it go as my lilac has bloomed!


Grown from seed and still well under a yard (or a metre) tall, my little baby is now looking for love. *sniffle*

*sniff, sniff* Oh, how I love a lilac!