On having one’s ass kicked

Not going to lie to you ladies and gents, this winter has completely kicked my ass. I am not sure why, I cannot recall being as crook over winter in the 46 years that I have been on this planet, but fuck me. White flag, where are you?

Last night, I felt the tingle of an incoming coldsore. I was all over it as I had had a discussion with the chemist about these three magic pills you take as soon as you sense one coming on and it magically makes them disappear.

DISAPPEAR MY ASSHOLE. I went back to the dude and said it didn’t work. Got me some nuclear lotion to try to stop it spreading all over my face while the chemist suggested that I put myself onto some herbal bullshit. I don’t want herbs I want drugs.

And then I got excited because I got paid from some freelance jobs where I got to write about fecal incontinence. Then I paid all the beginning of term invoices for the bloodsucking bairns, including $600 for a three day National Aerobics Championship Competition on the Gold Coast, (I must admit I really nearly cried at that one.) So now, I am pitching to editors about really, anything. If you have an idea, I am all ears.

Oh, and in my dream last night, Mum told me that I had stacked on the kegs and I lost my shit at her. I woke up and almost thought I needed to call her to apologise. Mum, if you are reading this, please make more of that pea and ham soup. Thank you.

Isn’t this a chipper blog post!

Tomorrow I am away to perambulate the hills near Crookwell (very apt name if you ask me.) I have been more crook than well this winter.

In the meantime, for your consideration, you can hear my snotty tones in this weeks episode of The Hot Flush.

Winter 2019, go and suck a bag of dicks.