That's what she said.

That's what she said jokes are a big thing around here.

And they've been big for a while and they're not leaving anytime soon.

In fact, HellBoy works with them so often and with such commendable mental dexterity that he's developed a gesture capable of replacing the statement itself in order to save time and conserve energy.

He once told a friend that he should just write it on his forearm and simply raise it when it suits him. (TWSS)

Not being in the least bit commitment-phobic - he's been with me these 19 years, he recently announced his intention of taking it that step further and having That's what she said! tattooed down his forearm in Chinese characters.

After snorting my chamomile tea through my ears and scratching my head at his comic timing - we were watching the weather I believe, I asked him why not choose Arabic writing?

He tells me he would like to be able to travel without being rubber gloved each trip, which is fair enough, but such encounters would surely give rise to many juicy opportunities for TWSS, making it almost worthwhile.

Or auf Deutsch in lovely old Teutonic script?
Yoga Boy kindly translated TWSS to Das hat sie gesagt!
Made even funnier of course by the complete absence of appreciation that most Germans would have for such lame double entendres.

So, he's off to school to ask the straightest Chinese science teacher he can find to write the characters for him.
He even tells me that he hopes this guy deliberately or accidentally writes something else.
That's HellBoy's true sense of humour, and I salute him for it.

Leave the length at the back.

Oh, and I must tell you, I over heard a wonderful conversation last week while young Jeffrey and I were enjoying ourselves immensely in a gorgeous little Cyprian restaurant we had discovered at Byron Bay.

Mercifully, my back was to the table responsible for the disturbance, else the look on my face may have created an even greater social predicament.

The table had a number of younger children, several older people and a lone teenage boy, suffering from acute mortification at being out with such relatives while there were any number of hot German backpackers walking past.

Imagine his agony when his mother's friend or aunt maybe, decided to discuss his hair do.

Off side, I say.
She should face a disciplinary hearing for that.

Regardless, in a lovely loud, nasal Aussie voice, this person told him what was and wasn't right about his appearance and then unfeelingly went on to make suggestions as to how he might look more trendy.

Why isn't trendy a c word?
We all know it should be, and I for one, am going to start spelling it with a silent c.

In fact, I'm going to try doing that to every word I don't like, starting now.
Csorry, but my conscience is quite the cbossy cmoralising cdictator.

OK, I'll stop now.

Well anyway, her advice to this poor chap was as follows...

"You should cut your hair like my son. You know, short and the front and long at the back."


--------------- O M F G -------------------


You mean, like, into a mullet, you stupid bitch?

Go get fucked, take less cheap oestrogen, lower your voice and mind your own fucking business, you insensitive, impertinent old mole!

Well, that's pretty much what I suspect that young man was thinking. Quite right too.

I believe he was also picturing himself throttling the crass life out of her bossy, menopausal head, right there at that very table - knocking plates of fetta and olives onto the floor as he did so.
Surely no-one could have blamed him for that.
Don't the Greeks and Cypriates smash plates as a symbol of controlled loss anyway?

Not guilty, Your Honour...

And so folks, that's how it happens. That's how the mullet is still around for us to enjoy today.
And these people drive cars and are counted alongside us as members of the community...

Not too long ago, as I was having my own hair cut - a task I truly loathe, I took the time to ask the hairdresser what people request when they get a mullet.

She replied that they never ask for a mullet as such, but that they just say, "cut the front pretty short and leave the length at the back."


Of course, translated, that means,

" My mother's my cousin, Pappy done built us a trailer out of twigs and coke cans, but only 9 of my 11 ADHD children fit in it. Got any white bread?"

All that aside, Cyprian food really is very nice.
Not as simple or salty as Greek fare, and they really know what they're doing with lamb.
Hallelujah! We both really like lamb.
We stalked around Europe questing for even the smallest morsel, earlier in the year. Finally found it in Paris, courtesy of a Greek restaurant. I suspect we may have paid close to $40 each for a shish, but, mmmmmmmmmm lamb...

A couple of years ago, as we were driving through the NSW countryside towards Braidwood, Jeff was looking apologetically out the window at the sheep who were grazing peacefully, and was heard to refer to them as, "...poor delicious bastards..."

So true.

Certainly more delicious than mullet anyway.

Does this make you want to punch on too?

I thought you'd enjoy these two notes that were intercepted recently by my Jeffrey.
He had a giggle at them in class and for reason(s) unknown even to himself, deposited them in his draw, which doubles as a waste paper bin on most days.

But never mind that, a system's a system.
Although I must remark that a Lebanese system bears precious little resemblance to a German system at all.
Nevertheless, it's still far superior to a Sicilian one.
More about that later.

Upon reading these notes, I asked him why he hadn't got these girls up in front of the class to write this nonsense on the board so that everyone else could correct their spelling and grammar.
Learning in action, you see.
He assured me that kids today would refuse to do so and would tell me to GGF.
But could they spell GGF?
Well, certainly they could never use 3 capital letters in one week, let alone in one go.


NOTE 1

Bec and mitchel got a bit close yesterday holding hands I think they even walked home together cause she wasent on the bus so who knows what went on???

NOTE 2

tahlia look at bec she is getting close to mitchell now bout 5 minuts ago she was wid brendon.



haha I no, men carlie were just saying a new guy what new guy I wanna see the new guy weres the new guy


no like, shes sitting with a new guy aww yer shes a slut it was jane who told her that i wanna punch on with her but see she wont evan look at me because she knows i will punch on with her lol



OMG I think I wanna punch on with them.


Footnote: "tahlia" is a Roosters supporter... but it's impolitis of me to condemn her for that.
Or is it just common sense?

6 foot 9 inch kaa-niggit

At the Tower of London, there is a museum of nasty war stuff which upset me.
Jeff liked it though.
Looking at axes, guns, swords, spears and numerous other things whose use I simply couldn't imagine, except that they were all for killing, isn't my cup of tea. And I don't care how old they are or who they belonged to.
But you will see my cup of tea shortly, so fear not.
Our Jeffrey was particularly taken by a suit of armour from some German knight circa 1470- 1500.
Now, considering the average height back then may have been around 5 foot, I suppose that a 6' 9" knight would have probably been enough to put the fear of sauerkraut into most folk from merry old England at that time.

But then, you do have to ask yourself how the Brits came to possess it if he was so damn scary.

Perhaps he didn't know what his favourite colour was.

Mine's green.