just now I dropped an egg on the floor on my way to the stove. It went kAA-SPLAT in a undeniably satisfying pa-toosh way. I think it would be the best aggression killer, it made me smile, the noise it made and the yellow and clear membrane eggy mess wibble wobbling there. It looked like a very pretty jelly fish washed up on my kitchen floor. I paused to decide the best way to clean it up and just as I reached for the dish cloth I remembered those ads with the handy towel, how super duper absorbent it is and with just one handy towel you can scoop up a broken egg, remember those? Well I have handy towel. Advertising works on me and I bought handy towel on this one wipe premise, what a myth busting moment I thought and spun for the fat roll of paper. I pulled off two sheets, just in case you know? and smooshed it into the eggy mess, swiping back and forth and then scooping it up and into my cupped hand like a professional mum. Well I tell you. Not only did it NOT get all the egg. IT didn’t even get half the egg. 8, yes, 8 handy towels later and the eggy mess was off the floor and my sink was full of egg paper towel. I was dissappointed in handy towel. a little deflated by it’s inadequacies. shame. It threw me into a questioning of advertising, I wonder if I don’t really gotta getta garage, gotta get a gottage, gotta get a skylineeeeee and perhaps Harvey norman doesn’t really GOoooo harvey norman go? What if the warehouse is not really where everyone gets a bargain and a money back guarantee? maybe someone does beat Supa fruit mart? dang advertising companies.
also while I was feeding annie-rose in her high chair this morning, a black bird flew SMACK into the conservatory window. He hit it with a hell of a force. So hard he lost control of his bowels and left skiddies down the window pane. I leapt up from my seat, followed by annie’s wide eyed gaze and peered out the window frantically searching for the bird, I was on full alert to do bird cpr rescue mission extravaganza, but just when I thought it must’ve fallen into the dense bush I saw it hop hop hop and flap unsteadily into the air back the way it had come. What gets me is that the windows of the conserve are hideously grimmey from winter and had the bird been looking it surely would have seen them?!?! I reckon he must’ve been looking back over his shoulder, giving some other blackbird lady the wink and hollar balloosa smack into the window he went. It reminded me of the time me and clare and chris were drinking in the conserve at mums in our teens and Odette rocked up after work and as she came through the kitchen she gave us a big smile and then walked smack into the glass ranch slider. The look of pure shocked surprise on her face had us all in pieces. it was a real, what the fuck? moment. hahahahahaha.
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