Saturdays with SawHole # 6

During our AGM this week, SawHole commented on the amount of letters she gets regarding woman's weight issues. We selected one that was extremely well written but I just think, with the onset of winter, we are all just bulking up a bit. But to be safe, we did reject an offer of a BOX OF TIM TAMS - not a packet but a box, from Arnotts as a giveaway as we prefer to promote alcohol and we did not want to send out mixed messages.

Also, despite rumours flying around the Internet, SawHole has not resigned as resident Agony Aunt on Woogsworld. Her pay however has been increased to 4 peanuts a week and a Happy Meal on completion of each dilemma. Got one? Email your ISSUE to mrswoog@hotmail.com.

Dear Ms Sawhole,

I have a dilemma for you – I am pushing maximum density and am at a total loss about how to trim down from ‘morbidly obese’ to the far more palatable ‘obese’ or maybe even ‘overweight’ categories.

The reason I am at a total loss for this problem despite having attended a particular weight loss program four times in my life and trialled myriad diets and ‘lifestyle changes’ over the years is this. I love food. I love to eat it, I love to cook it. I wake up and instead of thinking about my children or my husband or whether or not to shower today I plan the day’s menu.

Furthermore I seem quite allergic to exercise. No really, every time I do it I turn really really red and all this clear liquid tries to escape my body. So there you have it, I love to shovel food in and sit on my ever-expanding arse watching as many reality tv programs peppered with some intellectual garbage to convince myself I haven’t totally given up on life. Any ideas?

Yours in bulbous adoration,

Kim



Dearest Kim,

SawHole may not know much about science, tap dancing or erotic art, but she does know a little bit about the battle of the bulge. I am Queen of the YoYo and I almost certainly own shares in Nancy Gantz, the naughty minx that she is.

First thing, Kim, is that I hear yah. It sounds to me as though you have been doing your BMI again. I used to do that until I convinced myself that BMI was shit. I even wrote an indignant letter to that nasty doctor at Cammeray Family Practice who gave me a bollocking for my BMI being 26 (oh how I wish). In no uncertain terms, I told the doctor that both she and the BMI were shit. Then she referred me to a psychiatrist. So my first message to you is don't do your BMI until you are in a place where you can accept it, not manipulate it or fixate upon it.

As we get older, Kim, there comes a choice between food and form. It happened to me when I was in Veronika Maine and the size 16 dress would not do up over the puppies. No word of a lie, the sales assistant handed me the card for a plastic surgeon (Dr John Newton, of Warners Bay, in case anyone is interested).This was a rallying cry to SawHole and I did what I swore I never would, I hired a bloody personal trainer.

Enter poor, long-suffering Rob. He has been there during the lunges, the bloody cross trainer and general joint articulation (his words, I have no idea what they mean). I know it is awful when you get red and sweaty but there was no way I was going to scoff a bag of M&Ms after killing myself on the bloody rower. Also because I had started the exercise program and went through hell there was no way I was ever going to give it up. I finally understood the phrase we have come too far to turn back.

So that is my advice to you, use exercise as a binge insurance policy because after you have done 45 single-leg squats, you don't want to undo all that hard work with some Twisties. In some sick, twisted way, it worked for me. I also think there is nothing to be ashamed of by watching trash tv. I suggest Sober House http://www.vh1.com/shows/sober_house/season_1 and Ruby http://www.mystyle.com/mystyle/shows/ruby/index.jsp.

If Ruby can go from 700 pounds to 300 pounds, there is hope for us yet.



Also don't forget Millionaire Matchmaker, http://www.bravotv.com/the-millionaire-matchmaker

Yours in Mutual Love of Foxtel,

SawHole.

Woog's Weal Weekly Wap Up

Ok so here we are again, my favourite day of the week. Child-free Friday. Kids are gone to their various places of educational advancement. The house looks like a tornado has hit a Chinese laundry and I DON'T BLOODY CARE.

Friday is the day I do things exclusively for me.... trust me, the kids are lucky to get breakfast.

The day started at some ungodly hour with some sex-nagging (denied) and the kids bouncing off the walls until I sent them to their room to play "Whoever cleans up the best gets a Cookie".

I figure the day can only go up from there

So I am going to hit the shops with and Belinda, lunch somewhere gooooood that does not involve Happy Meals and visit Ms Finlayson and her new puppy Tilly. Top it all off with a few Vodka O's and perhaps a cheeky pizza.

GOING UP?

I am not even kidding when I tell you that there is a Chocolate Cafe going in on my street.

Look outside - where is the rain?

Beautiful stepdad being a trooper and pulling through a huge operation to remove his bowel.

Mr Woog surviving another week of Frogger like adventures, riding his bike to work.

Whole week with only one doctor visit for Jack and she bulk billed me. xoxo

The Mazda Doctor finding nothing to serious with her. Like winning the Lotto!

GOING DOWN?

In the best case I have seen in a long time, A good example of politician's taking their ball and going home.

Concerns about iminent weight gain once chocoalte cafe opens for business

I finally had to wash all the Brad Ngata Hot Blow Dry out if my hair when it got so greasy the Barack Obama delayed a visit to Australia in an attempt to get BP to plug it. PS I still have a few gift cards, if you are keen email your name and address to mrswoog@hotmail.com.

The demand for Saturdays with Sawhole t-shirts outstripping supply.

Target Toy Sale - I would rather pay full price then face that shit.

Limping along till payday - paying for my coffee this morning with 5 cent peices I found while scrounging around the Mazda.

Favourite reads this week include one from my Sister from A Nudda Mudda in the States. Pampers and Pinot...go click read... wee a bit. Also while you are there, shoot across to Bad Words, only if you do not mind really good writing and a lot of profanities.

Finally, tomorrow's Saturdays with SawHole has turned up, and let's just say Saw Hole has a few ideas in mind to turn that Flab.... to Fab. Come back tomorrow and have a read.

Mrs Woog Loves...... Vodka O

Come about 5.30pm in my street, if you listen really carefully, you can hear the sound of a hundred fridges opening, the lone glass being filled with wine as mum's silently toast themselves for almost getting through another day..... or so I have heard.

In an effort to be a healthier, happier family, Mr Woog and I decided to quit drinking wine during the week. We now choose a refreshing Vodka, Lime and Soda for cocktail hour here at Woogsworld. Mr Woog can become very obsessive about these things and tried out A LOT of brands before coming across the genius that is Vodka O.

The reason why Vodka O is Woogsworld's tipple of choice is because you can have 3 large ones and wake up the next morning not feeling like you are going to barf. It is Organic, something I scoff at in fruit and veg (they always look dirty) but something I look for in alcohol.

Using pure Australian spring water our unique evaporative and charcoal filtering process creates a super smooth taste. Vodka O is free from chemical impurities and contains no residual herbicides, pesticides or fungicides, which means more natural goodness.

And less seediness the next day. Mr Woog also likes it because it is cheap.

Some time ago, I made the suggestion that you could make your own vodka from potatoes, but through trial and error, I can now see that nipping up to the local boozer for a bottle of Vodka O is far far easier.

I could have actually filed this one under Ingenious Invention #3.

ANYWAY.......................

The hotties at the Vodka O Marketing Department have supplied me with 3 bottles of the best ever hard stuff to give away to Woogsworld Readers. We have both agreed that it will be sent directly from their office, as I might be tempted to syphon off half the bottle and top it up with water, a la my 15 year old self did to her parents liquor cabinet. Remember Rocket Fuel??

So to win a few drinks on me, there is a few things you need to do. You need to be living in Australia please please don't abuse me Yankees, be over 18 and be a follower of Woogsworld. Not a follower? Easy just click on the FOLLOW button on the right.

THEN, leave a comment on THIS POST telling me how you would enjoy your Vodka O.

I recommend a cocktail called Mrs Woogs Shrinking Butt. Fill a glass with ice, add a big squeeze of lime, add a big slurp of Vodka O and top with Schweppes Sugar Free Agrum. Stir and Skull or Sip - depending on the day you have had. And only 1 Weight Watchers point!

Winners will be announced on Woogsworld next Friday 6th August - so check back in then.

PS Am super super excited about my next Giveaway.... here is a little clue!

Ingenious Invention Alert # 2

Was shitting kittens thinking what to buy Mr Woog for his upcoming 37th Birthday. Thanks to a WoogsWorld reader, problem solved! This chair helps shape and tone, the perfect antidote to Mr Woog's lunchtime binges at the office.

I am always glad when a motor is added to an ordinary object. It is a natural and comfortable exercise you can do anywhere.... as long as you are sitting on your fat ass. I wonder if they would consider launching a couch version.........

Woog in Profile # 2

Woogsworld's foray into pet ownership has been littered with highs and lows. A few years ago, we (or should I say I) took possession of a puppy so fricking adorable, it hurt your eyes.

Frank Woog Jr was the epitome of cuteness. He is a staffy born and bred where all good staffy's are in the Western Suburbs of Sydney. There was a very good chance that Frank could have ended up guarding tools on the back of a ute in the Hills District, but he came home to Woogsworld. We live in an area full of shnoodles, magnadoodles and cocknfoodles so Frank stood out like a zit on Lady Gaga's butt. Loved it.

Like puppy's do, they destroy. After Frank ate a mattress, two handbags complete with wallets and visa cards, the back verandah and dug a tunnel through to the neighbour's swimming pool, it was decided that Frank should go enjoy some rehabilitation up at Mr Woog's Parents farm. Grandpa Woog is a famous dog trainer and decided to keep Frank. Frank is now the only registered Staffy Sheep Dog in NSW and enjoying celebrity status on the Sheep Dog Circuit. We see him often on weekends and he is adorable as ever.

Which left Woogsworld without and animal, something which Mr Woog was delighted about.

I grew up around pets, my kids yearned for an animal, so on H's 6th Bday, I went on a mission to seek out a rescue cat so perfect, Mr Woog would have no reason to hit the roof.

Mr Woog hit the roof when I found Wilson Woog. Wilson is a burmilla cat, age unknown. You can read here about his arrival. He has a slight weight problem and spends most of his days shedding hair, specialising in swiping up against black panted wearers. He is very focused on food and being noisy. Oh the Meeowing! He literally stares at your and howls. I swear the reason he was abandoned was that his previous owners could not take it anymore, locked him out the back, snuck out the front door and moved to Queensland.

He is not what you would call sweet natured but he does not scratch the Woogettes when they disappear into their room and return with him dressed up as Batman.

Anyway, their loss is our gain and three quarters of this household would throw themselves in front of a bus for him.

Mrs Woog's Pick-Me-Up Sunday Routine

For those who were offended by my self-indulgent report on how I spent yesterday morning, you may want to stop reading right now as I continued to have "me" time all day. Except I cannot stand my own company, so I recruited my big sister in for an afternoon of indulgence, shits and giggles.

You see the week that preceded was flawed. No I did not enjoy J's middle ear infection, trip to the doctor and subsequent ear-drum rupture. Nor did I enjoy picking up a rather nasty bug myself which made me bail on my beautiful Shepherd Centre Mum's on Saturday night. I rolled my ankle doing my soft sand sprints. The Wooglette's took despicable behaviour to a whole new level. A Parking fine combined with a nasty nasty blind zit on my chin sent me to the corner to rock back and forth. I was in a bad space.

Yes I know I bitch about Mr Woog quite a lot, but he hoicked up his socks on Sunday, threw the kids in the car and announced he was going to share their "charms"with his parents for the day and do not expect them back till dusk. I raced out to the car in my dressing gown and gave him an almighty pash - complete with morning breath. Next time I bitch about him, please remind me of this day. Thanks.

My big sis, who we shall call Little Nicky, arrived for the afternoon. We started off getting a blow job from Brad Ngata. Now Brad Ngata is to hair what Maggie Beer is to ice-cream. You just do not get any better. My Mrs Mangel instinct kicked in as I rolled out a billion questions. That man could not do my hair any faster I tell you, and was all over that GHD like a rotty on a 3 year old.. "Who is the fussiest Celebrity you have done?" tactfully remained unanswered. We did go on to discuss what he would do with Prime Minister Julia Gillard's hair (colour is good but she needs some length). I asked him whether I reminded him of Kim Kardashian, but the phone rang and it was Kylie Minogue. While he excused himself, I made the most of the complimentary gift cards sitting on the bench.

Yes I stole from Brad Ngata.

The fine print revealed One Gift Card Per Customer, so I cannot pay for my whole service with them. But if you are a Sydney Reader and want to look SWWWWWWWEEEEEEEET for a special occasion, email me your name and address and I will pop one in the post for you if you are one of the first 10 to respond. Tell him Mrs Woog sent you. He may recoil in horror, but at least he will remember who I was. mrswoog@hotmail.com. He is a genius.

Now the problem with my hair looking SO good, was that my face looked rank. It was then we decided to pop over to the Benefit Salon. Now I know I hark on about Benefit, but I am an unpaid but much dedicated unofficial Benefit Pusher. That shit just works. We put our hand up for the whole shebang. Wax. Tint. Falsies. Makeup. We had big plans to watch the Federal Election debate and we wanted to look our best for that skeeze Abbott.

Walking into their salon is like going to a Candy Shop. Ladies (and Badger) you simply must get there. The chicks that work there are amazing. They are called BeneBabes. I want to be a Benebabe but I do not think I can maintain such a pleasant demeanour for that long. No-one can be that perky on a Sunday afternoon! Not annoyingly perky, infectious perky, and there is a difference. And they are all so pretty. There was pink cupcakes and fun music. We left looking ten years younger and with a spring in our step.

Little Nicky and I then decided to take our new selves out for a (large) vodka, lime and soda at the nearby pub and observe what people without kids do to while their Sunday afternoon away. They drink beer, play pool and text people.

So with the fantasy day drawing to a close, we cabbed it back home via the bottle shop. Arriving through the door with a bottle of Cloudy Bay, the Woog Males did a double take. Yes kids, I know I look like a more attractive version of your mum, but yes, It is me.

Jammies on, Pizza Ordered, wine poured. Happy days. Watched 10 minutes of the debate (Julia, my friend Brad suggests you grow your hair out a bit..) before I fell asleep on the couch. It was just that exciting.

In conclusion, should you find yourself low low low, I suggest you follow the Mrs Woog's Pick- Me-Up-Sunday Routine. The only thing I would change is to have a different TV line up planned. I was not even pissed off when I had to drop the Mazda off this morning for a service and they shook their heads at the noise coming from the engine. Nothing is going to bring me down today. xo

Read it and Weep

Shut your eyes and imagine a sunny Winter Sunday morning. The house is perfectly still and quiet, apart from a lone bird chirping it's fucking head off outside the window. Shut the fuck up you are ruining my ambiance.

Now imagine a king size bed covered in a big white doona. Quickly brush off the Vegemite toast crumbs. The bed is covered in Sunday Papers and a takeaway cappuccino is sitting on the bedside. The car has gone, removing all male Woogs for the day.

You like what you see?

Because THAT IS ME IN THAT BED , not getting sex nagged, not watching Playschool and not getting bitched at. So if you do not mind, I have some important snoozing to do.

PS I love you Mr Woog xo

Saturdays with Saw Hole #5

Saw Hole is back from touring t-shirt manufacturing plants in Ohio and finalising meetings with her copy write lawyers. She has negotiated hard to bring her readers the best quality garment available. Well Done Saw Hole for your dedication to your new position.

She has also been sifting through dozens of dilemmas sent in by readers, including an interesting one from Duke, currently residing in a North London prison, who suspects his cell mate is using his toothbrush. Got a problem?? Email mrswoog@hotmail.com.

Best comment here will be selected by Saw Hole next Saturday and will receive the award-winning designer Saturdays with Saw Hole t-shirt. Read, Comment and have a great weekend.

Dear Saw Hole,

My best friend recently went through some dramatic changes. she lost a heap of weight and although she looks great, it seems like she also had a personality transplant. She is very vain and conceited. She is either at the gym or the beauticians.

When we go out to dinner, she is always telling me how many calories are in the meal I ordered. She drinks white wine spritzers when she used to knock back Bacardi breezers. I am worried we are growing apart.

What advice do you have on female friendships that are slowly turning to shit?

Emma

Dear Emma,

Hmmm the signs should have been there when she used to drink the Breezers and now she drinks spritzers. "Loser!"

You have several options:

1. Wear your IPOD to dinner. See if you can get some audio of two cats shagging, it will be less painful that hearing about squats and protein bars.

2. Sabotage her meal, in a style similar to the Mean Girls diet bars situation.

3. As they say in Mean Girls: "Beware of Plastics". Your friend is a plastic, so I provide the following from Mean Girls as evidence:

Cady: [after seeing Regina in mirror] Regina, wow, you look really beautiful.

Regina: I'm wearing a spinal halo.

Cady: Look, I'm really sorry about the bus. I feel like it's all my fault.

Regina: Stopping making this about you. I'm the one that got hit by the bus.

Cady: I'm really sorry about all the other stuff too.

Regina: Okay, I'm going to forgive you because I'm a very Zen person... and I'm on a lot of pain medication right now.

This brings me to the next point. Take lots of Xanax before dinner. If you can't get Xanax, try Valium or smoke something from the your local supermarket's vegetable section. Mrs Woog and I would not hang with this chick. We would be most likely bitching about her behind her back and giving her a derisive nickname such as Cupcake.

Saw Hole thinks the final word on this should go to Ari Gold (character on the comedy-drama television series Entourage): "Silence is fucking golden."

Run, run as fast as you can. NOW!

Yours in Crusading Against Diet Bores,

Saw Hole.

Saw Hole has an announcement - the winner of the Saturdays with Saw Hole competition has been announced. Drum roll: the winner is Mummydiaries. Congratulations! We both share a dislike of John Mayer, so you get the first ever Saturdays with Saw Hole shirt. Please make email contact with Mrs Woog and we will organise your prize. Wanderlust - you came in a close second with your Nicole Kidman graphic and I will organise you some Saturdays with Saw Hole post-its.

Note to Saw Hole

Hi Saw Hole,

How is Stockton treating you? Are the chicko rolls really of better quality there? Are your neighbours still smoking Orchy Bongs on their front steps. You have done the community just a great service by moving there and lifting the tone. You are a giver Saw Hole, do not let anyone tell you any different.

Speaking of giving, your idea about a Saturdays with Saw Hole t-shirt has been met with great reception. Mr Woog has put in an order for an XXL so he can wear it riding his pushy to work. We have had a few issues with the design leaking out before it's official launch tomorrow. Look what I was alerted to by the Alaskan PR reps this morning.

This is not the sort of publicity we need right now. She is saying it is a very handy apparel to wear when moose hunting. And that it also protects against teen pregnancy. I suppose we have to expect a few bumps in the road with this concept Saw Hole. Shame.

Saw Hole, you are Dr Phil to my Oprah.

I am delighted to offer you the position of International Merchandising Director for Woogsworld. I know it may clash a bit with your consultancy role with Bob Brown, and your Tupperware business is still finding it's feet, but I think you have the balls to take the t-shirt to the next level. It is your natural flair with fashion combined with sassy spokes-model-like demeanour that made you a stand out, and an obvious choice.

The profits from the t-shirt will be funnelled into an off-shore account, earmarked for my breast reduction surgery. So you can sleep easy at night, knowing that it is going to a good cause.

Thanks again for all your work over the last few weeks. Now stop slacking off and go sort of some chicks issue with a toxic friend for tomorrow's Saturdays with Sawhole. Have you chosen a winner for the t-shirt yet?

And send me a chicko roll with a chocolate moove for my lunch.

Mrs Woog
(of the Naremburn Woogs)

Ingenious Invention Alert!

Like Maggie Beer's Burnt Fig, Honeycomb and Caramel Ice-Cream and Matt Damon, some inventions just about blow me away with their ingeniousness.

The 'Wine Rack Bra' looks like a normal sports bra, but actually holds 750ml (an entire bottle of wine) inside the cups.
In addition to giving wearers bigger-looking boobs, there's also a straw which allows them to covertly dink the contents.
Makers claim the 'Wine Rack Bra' is perfect for sneaking booze into movies, concerts, sports events and clubs.
However, users should consider that while a fluid filled bra can boost breast size from an A to a D -- the more drunk you get the smaller your boobs will appear.

My usual obsession with all things busty alerted a reader to share this gem with me. It is like ying and yang, good versus evil. It is boobs and wine, working together to make this world a better place. Sitting through a Parent/Teacher interview shall never be boring again! And what about Jury Duty. They should set up a stall outside the courtroom. And another one outside your in-laws house. Maybe we should all chuck in and get one for Lindsay Lohan in the big house.
While I do not require a larger chesticular area, this perky young lass is certainly happier with a bottle of wine in her bra. Gives a new take on the word Boozies. See the heartbreak in her eyes when she is not packing a flagon? It is really sad.

Where would you wear yours to?

What I am yet to get......

• Why Lindsay Lohan did not darken up them locks before 3 months in Prison, Girlfriend is going to be sporting some good skunk stripe when she is released. But really, i think that is the best she has looked in a LOOOONG time. Go figure. I would have spent the last night of freedom out on the tiles, till I was scraped off the floor of some seedy tattoo parlour as the sun rose and delivered to jail by a bulldozer. We are just waiting for her to find God now.
• How Gloria Jeans & Starbucks "coffee"can achieve the exact same taste as effluent run-off mixed with salt.
• Why äoli is included in absolutely everything on menus. Ditto jus.
• Please do not come and string me up, but Masterchef.
• Why Hey Hey is still on TV and why is Tony Abbott appearing tonight as a red-faces judge - when dickheads collide.
• Why kids can love eating something one day and swear off it the next.
• Why I am likely to buy pink colours vodka drinks from a 19 year old promotions chick in a silver bikini on a Friday afternoon at our local bottle-shop when I have 2 bitchin kids with me and ugg boots on and I have illegally double parked out the front. Do I look like I care that it is Organic?? .
• Why there is not a mobile coffee van parked outside my house at 7am. And again at 2pm. And a mobile wine bar van to toot it's horn at 5pm?
• Why after 2 weeks of having the Mazda detailed, it still smells like cat yak rolled in mould.
• Speaking of smells, what's with the stink that slaps you in the face when you walk past a Subway "Restaurant"? And therefore, why are they always so busy?
• How come so many people with very horrific circumstances in Bogota and Sudan want to give me $30 million US dollars every day via my hotmail account?
• Excuse me false advertising! - I expected a Geek when I booked Geeks2U to come sort out my computer issues, not a hottie. Got the neighbour in for further clarification and yes, she agreed.
• Why I have more zits on my face at the age of 37 than I had for the entire 80's.
• Why, despite having no wine for 2 nights, do I wake up feeling grumpier than ever.
• Why Lady Gaga is always out and about without her pants. Not quirky LG, Lazy.

• How my 4 year old can confuse my nicotine patch with a band aid when I discovered it on his knee. "What is on your knee baby?"
• The Russian Fuckwits who thought putting a Donkey up in a para sail would be a good way to promote their business last week. That donkey should be encouraged to belt them several times in their Jatz Crackers. PS It survived.... just.
  
  
  

  
  What puzzles you?

GIVEAWAY!

Geography is a bitch hey! Especially my old Geography Teacher Mrs Snivelltits. This one is for Sydney Readers Only. (boo hissss - but this workshop will be running around the country so stay tuned)

Anyway, this is a fab opportunity for you (and a mate) to attend Sydney's First Working Mums MASTERCLASS.....FOR FREE! Nadda. Zip.

Date: Saturday 24 July 2010
Time: 1130am - 4pm
Venue: Norwest Crowne Plaza
1 Columbia Court
Norwest Business Park

All Mums are Working Mums - it's just that some of us get paid and some of us don't! The Working Mums MASTERCLASS will help you balance the demands of being a modern mum.

Guest Speakers include Juanita Phillips, author of A Pressure Cooker Saved my Life, Kristie McKnight from Ducks in a Row, Valerie Peterson from Inner-B, Sunny Mummy Stacey Sullaphen and nutritionist Fiona Workman. And the chefs from the Crowne Plaza Norwest will run a cooking demonstration showing you how to whip up something fast and healthy for your family.

All you need to do is comment on this post by finishing this sentence:

Being a working mum is like____________________

For me, being a working mum is like trying to eat soup with a knife. Now you......

Random Org will sniff around on Thursday afternoon to select the winner so give your other half the heads up that you are busy on Saturday. So if you are so sick of hearing "work-life balance"from your boss, even though neither of you believe it, get some practical advice and have a laugh at the same time. And try and steal me a goodie bag ok?

Tony and Saw Hole

I suspect security is not so great at the t-shirt factory Saw Hole has commissioned to make her debut collection. Demand is high my friends. People will do anything to get their hands on one. But win yours and have it delivered to your door, just in time for triathlon season.

Who else would you like to see wearing a Saturdays with Saw Hole t-shirt??

PS Tony, your package is ready for collection...... ew

Get more than just a blow dry......

Mr Woog sometimes reads WoogsWorld. He has 2 reactions. He either gives a small snort at the end of the post or he says "Seriously, you cannot write that. You are going to get into trouble. Take it down. What if the bikies/nutters/my mum/my clients/the neighbours/Tony Abbott/The Principal of the kids school read it?"

He quite often advises me not to air my views on religion or politics as it causes issues. I smile and nod, take a sip of my wine and dream about nipping off to Vegas with Matt Damon for the weekend.

We are a family of extremely mixed religious backgrounds. Mr Woog has a very strong objection to organised religion and blames basically anything that goes wrong in the world on it. I am christened Catholic but have not been back to church since. I am not fussed about what other people believe, but do object to when Mormons come to my door when I am trying to take a piss.

Anyway, not sure what he will think of this, but you would agree, it's far too whickety whack not to share? Found it on the ninemsn.com.au news site this morning.


Atheists using hair dryers to 'de-baptise'
Atheists in the US are using hair dryers to "de-baptise" non-believers in organised rituals, according to a report.

The hair appliance is being used to symbolically dry up the holy water sprinkled on people's heads in baptism ceremonies when they were young.

The dryer is even emblazoned with a label reading "Reason and Truth", reports US news program Nightline.

Leading US atheist Edwin Kagin has been blasting other non-believers with hot air as a way for adults to undo their parents' decision to baptise them.

The 69-year-old from Kentucky believes parents are wrong to baptise their children before they are able to make their own choices and describes some religious education as "child abuse".

In his special de-baptising ritual, Mr Kagin dons a monk's robe, utters a few mock-Latin phrases and then asks atheists to "come forward and receive the spirit of hot air that taketh away the stigma and taketh away the remnants of the stain of baptismal water".

Mr Kagin's son Stephen won't be among those stepping forward for a hair dry, however: he became a fundamentalist Christian minister after having a "personal revelation in Jesus Christ".

I personally would like to congratulate Edwin Kagin for being thoughtful enough to use a diffuser on his blow-dryer. Here in Sydney, there is a phenomena popping up everywhere called the Blow Dry Bar, where you can pop in for a quick cheap blow dry. I think Edwin Kagin would do well to look into a franchise - make money while spreading the good word of total wackiness.

Would you let Edwin Kagin near your tresses? I wonder if he does colour....

Saturdays with Saw Hole

Fresh back from her elimination from Australia's Next Top Model, Saw Hole is down but not out! She certainly wowed the judges with her unique catwalk and was certainly able to show them her personality through her photos, she just fell short of the height requirement.

Saw Hole discovered, during her time in the house, her natural knack for fashion design. Read through to find out how YOU can win one her her original designs.

She comes home to a plethora of problems from Woogsworld Readers, check out this one from Annette. And send your issue to mrswoog@hotmail.com.


Dear Saw-Hole
I recently got married and when we arrived back from our honeymoon, my older brother's girlfriend had kicked him out and he is now living on our couch. Not ideal and my husband hates it. He has been here for 5 weeks so far and showing no signs of moving out. He is not a good house-guest either.
Please help!
Annette


Dear Annette,
Congratulations on your wedding! There was a device developed for just this dilemma - Mortein Flea Bomb. http://www.mortein.com.au/pests_fleas.php (how funny is the image of the jumping flea). Let the bomb off and hopefully he will run back to his girlfriend's garage. However, Saw Hole doubts she will let him back in, so it looks like he is your problem.

BTW in the interests of gossip, he must have done something BAD to be thrown out. Saw Hole threw out an ex once (who BTW had a big crush on Mrs Woog) but he refused to come and get his stuff, which was sitting fumigated in the corridor, resulting in Saw Hole getting in trouble with the body corporate. Anyway if you find out what brother in law did please email Saw Hole at saw.hole@gmail.com. All in the interests of gossip, under the guise of female solidarity, of course.

What gets Saw Hole's goat is the fact he is not a good houseguest. Manners people, please. I gather his behaviour involves toilets (see Mrs Woog's battle against toilet seat abuse for tips), hair on soap and not assisting with housework. What a sod. It looks like your husband needs to undertake an intervention (Dr Drew style). Here are Dr Drew's tips for a successful intervention: http://www.drugfree.org/Intervention/Ask_Expert/Dr_Drew_QA.

Saw Hole likes interventions and hopes to participate in one soon. I hope this helps. Your hubby needs to hoick up his balls and tell your brother to get a studio apartment somewhere far, far away from you.
With Empathy,
Saw Hole.

PS Saw Hole has finally gotten her act together and found some bribes...ahem giveaways. To be the first to win a Saturdays with Saw Hole t-shirt, designed by Saw Hole, please post a comment about why you like Saturdays with Saw Hole. Winner will be notified in next weeks Saturdays with Sawhole.

BTW I like filth humour, as well as swipes at the NSW Labor Party, Tony Abbott and cashed up bogans, so perhaps use those topics as your inspiration. I also like Paul Keating and Mick Molloy.On the other side of the Pacific, I love Reese's Peanut Butter Cups,Samantha Jones, Dr Drew and Kathy Griffin. Things I hate include Tom Cruise, dirtbag John Mayer (you want sexual napalm? I'll take you to Vietnam and string you upside down near a busy intersection, you pathetic Vlad the Impaler look-a-like) and Nicole Kidman's forehead(ha ha, you guys get her, I am happy to pass). Angelina sucks too xxx

Mrs Woog survives..............the week that was.

So another week has gone by in my countdown to the end of the school holidays, and I can honestly say they have not been that bad(as she puts down the wine glass). We enjoyed several Pyjama Days, my old laptop shat it's pants and has been replaced with a sexy new version, and apart from one incident yesterday morning, it has been relatively fight-free, which has been quite the treat.

My old pal Random.Org has assisted me in drawing the winners of my How A Pressure Cooker Saved My Life Giveaway. The lucky winners are Nerdycomputergirl, who cannot live with reading blogs, and Sarah, who cannot live without technology. My favourite entry though came from JustJen who cannot live without taking her next breath. Thanks for entering and a MEGA thanks to the hot chicks in the Promotional Department at Harper Collins. Please email your details to mrswoog@hotmail.com.

My Villain of the Week...

is none other than the former Sexiest Man Alive circa 1985 and current racist, sexist homophobe. Yes it is you Mr Gibson. What the hell happened to you! You have anger management issues and I feel a weekend workshop might not be enough for you. But if you do go, can you please take our cat Wilson with you?

A Strong argument for Dry July no?

Hero of the Week

Taking out the title for a record second time is none other than my fabulous cleaner Lilly!

Now Lilly had been giving me the irrits lately. She also cleans the house of several very good mates of mine and is always saying things like "Monique is very beautiful and Belinda look so young...... but you are very nice." Ummmm thanks Lilly.... I think. But she is back to Hero status.

I was taking out the garbage and walking back across the yard, something came over me and I started skipping (note exercise is evil). I leapt like a baby hippo up onto the back verandah when the toe of my slipper caught the edge. I came down like a sack of shit and lay there howling. I mean there was tears. Lilly and her crew of cleaners came rushing out all yelling at each other in Chinese. One produced a bag of frozen peas (that I did not know I had) while Lilly pulled up my jeans leg and exclaimed that it was not that bad, then proceeded to show my every scar on her body. I asked to be left alone after a while, but she refused to leave me until she had administered a special Chinese burn to the area. Still limping but I am sure it would be worse if it were not for the quick cold pack application. Thank You Dr Lilly.

One of may favourite reads this week comes courtesy of Good Golly Miss Holly. Read it and nod.

Finally, coming up tomorrow, we have Saturdays with Saw Hole, who is busy today pondering the problem of sibling couch crashers. Come back and read it, in between you trip to the day spa and your lunch at Catalina.

Mrs Woog and Lucy Jordan.

The mornin' sun touched lightly on
the eyes Mrs Woog
In her white suburban bedroom,
which stank like fart and doom
As she lay there 'neath the covers,
it is soon that she discovers,
The Woogettes were up they,
Wanted milk and Special K.

At the age of 37,
she realised she'd never ride
through Paris in a sports car,
with the warm wind in her hair
And she kept the coffee coming
While the Herald she started thumbing
If she sees that Tony Abbott
She will loudly start to swear.

Her husband, he was off to work,
and the kids were off to school
And there were oh so many ways
for her to spend her day
She could clean the house for hours,
or rearrange the flowers
Or curse the phantom shitter
For leaving skiddies in the loo.

The evening sun touched gently on
the eyes of Mrs Woog
The cat was fed the gin was poured
Mr Woog started in on his sexy mood
And she rolled her eyes at the man,
who reached and offered her his hand
And she said she had the mensies
He asks didn't you have them last week?

At the age of 37,
she realised she'd only ride
to Chatswood in the Madza,
with an elastic in her hair
And she let the phone keep ringin'
Coz it was Mr Woogs constant bitchin
And Oprah was on the telly
Discussing importance of good underwear.

written with the help of Shel Silverstein (in 1973)

Woog in Profile # 1

In this fascinating series, we look at members of WoogsWorld and ask them the tough questions. We begin today with Harry, who at 6, is struggling with the transition from little boy to big boy. Harry's first few days in this world were not always smooth sailing. Quick to fire up and an ability to eat more than anyone else (apart from the cat), Harry is enjoying life as an eldest child and specialised in fighting with his brother. I call him my Chunky Monkey.

Favourite Food? Tuna Mornay, Watermelon, Mango
Favourite Sport? Soccer
What do you like best about your Mum? She cooks very good and is a good dancer.
What do you like best about your Dad? He brings McDonald's and does big farts.
How many times do you say Stop It Jack in a 24 hour period? a thousand.
Best Friend? Zack, Jackson and Jasper
What do you want to be when you grow up? A vet and a nightclub worker
What scares you? Bad dreams

Who is your favourite singer? Michael Jackson
What makes you happy? when Jack stops annoying me
What is important to you? My mum's iPhone.
What is the best day you have ever had? Today because we get to make cupcakes.
And back to your mum, 3 words that describe her? Fancy, Beautiful and nice.

He is vice-president of my fan club. A man with good taste. Next week we will be interviewing Wilson Woog - come back and see what makes Sydney's largest, grumpiest cat tick as we try to get to the bottom of the issue of his issues with Mr Woog.

If you have not entered my How A Pressure Cooker saved My Life Giveaway, slide on over here and do so now.

Also a special shout out to www.geeks2u.com.au for coming out this morning to stop all my neighbours from scabbing from my Internet network. Oh for Shame......

Separated at Birth

Watching the news this morning, I was quite frankly stunned to see footage of Mafiance Shayda Bastani being arrested at Sydney Airport. She was about to board a plane to KL - First Class mind you (lucky cow). Shayda is the partner of Fadi Ibráhim, who was the subject of an attempted hit last year. Shayda got her knickers is a twist and as been arrested for allegedly conspire to murder the suspect who pulled the trigger. GASP! The Ibrahim Family are a hard working crew who seem to have terrible luck when it comes to connections with organised crime. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Girlfren..... you are gonna be in sooo much troble wit chor mamma!

This drama was played out only a few suburbs away from Woogsworld, where the most outrageous thing anyone has ever done is to dump their prawn heads in someone else's bin.

I have become quite obsessed with the goings on of the Ibrahim Brothers. Couple this with my obsession with getting Kim Kardashian's hair, and something kept nagging me.

" Honey, I am going to go get that nasty prick who shot you in that there tummy"

"Shayda, while you are on my couch, would you mind feeding mah Cheetah?And get off mah phone"

So THAT is why I have never seen Shayda and Kim in the same line at Woolies before!

PS This post is done in Hot Pink to show support to all things trashy.

PPS No really, the Ibrahim's are a really nice family. Please don't come get me!

Are you just happy browsing??

Having suffered from extreme sore-throatedness for an entire week, I am relieved I am on the mend with antibiotics doing their job and canesten at the ready. 


It has been pretty bad, but good news is that I lost 3 kilos due to the fact I could not eat! Also have not really slept for a week, apart from the night my pal Belinda gave me a normison and advised I washed it down with half a bottle of wine. The result was 10 straight hours sleep accompanied by a litre of drool. Felt a bit like Anna-Nicole Smith the next day, but at least I was not tired.


Yesterday I escaped the madhouse and went shopping with the divine Ms M. We hit up that mecca that is Chatswood Chase and were pleased to note we were were the only non-European car in the car park. We went to a fancy shmancy shop, you know the kind that sells t-shirts for $300? Anyway, they also only cater for semi-anorexics so the only thing that was going to fit me was a pashmina, or perhaps a handbag. 


We went into the change room where the store thoughtfully provides what they call a face scarf. A face scarf is like a burka hajib for rich chicks with too much make up on to use while trying on thousand dollar silk dresses. It assists the garment to stay clean. I doubted anyone would ever use one so I fitted one over my head. I waltzed out through the customers trying to find a sales assistant.


"Excuse me"I asked. "These do not seem to have a price on them. How much are they?"


Without blinking, smiling or even a small look of horror, the lady told me that they were not for sale, but I could keep one if I wished. How nice is that!! I thought I looked amazing! It certainly covered my imperfections.

We thought we would take a look at shoes, for of course the sales were on. Ms M took me to a shop where I fell IN LOVE with a pair of ballet flats that I knew I must own. (Mr Woog later pointed out that they were the same as my other red ballet flats... but these had leopard print - it is all in the details Mr Woog). So excited I got myself all jumpy up in the air and high fiving etc. 


My elatedness was soon tinged with pissed-offness. The service at this particular shop was non-existent. I will not name this establishment as I fear litigious retribution, but lets just call it Sambag for arguments sake.

These two twenty somethings barely looked up from their iPhones. They made the "ladies" who "serve" you at Mosman's Country Road look like total professionals with a degree in hospitality and runner up is the Miss Congeniality contest.


But a great day anyway - and with my throat infection on the way out, this week can only get better and better. Life is always better with a new pair of red ballet flats.

Did a Pressure Cooker save my life???

Firstly - thanks for showing up Friday - you total ho! I swear you were running late. Took forever to get here. All is forgiven though as I get to play with that FUN FUN site Random.Org and draw the winners, yes all three of them, of my most excellent Trilogy Organic Rosehip Oil Giveaway!

I was so very tempted to keep one bottle and say Trilogy only gave me two, but I fear they might read this and blacklist me from dealing with them in the future. Hi there Trilogy Suits.... see I am giving all three bottles away.........

Drumroll...................................click click click



STAYDAY, BuBbles and Gill - OurParkLife please email me your address asap! mrswoog@hotmail.com. You are going to look amazing! And Organic, not to mention rosie!



Next giveaway comes courtesy of the incredibly good looking crew at Harper Collins Publishers. A while ago I fed my soul on a book they published, A Pressure Cooker Saved My Life by the wonderful newsreader Juanita Phillips. I was impressed so much I bought the company that made pressure cookers. No, not really, but I did nag a few people at Harper Collins to give me a few copies to giveaway.

I remember the raised eyebrows from colleagues at work when I announced over my 8 month-old bump, that I would enjoy bonding with my baby for 3 months then I would be back in time to continue to save the company I worked for. I was certain they could not continue without me. Certain. It took little over a year for me to fall off the superwoman wagon, and when I fell, I fell hard. BUT I did not have to do it live on National Television.

When Juanita Phillips stumbled on an old pressure cooker in an op shop, it changed her life. As a frantically busy working mother, she was desperate for solutions to that modern dilemma: how to juggle kids, career, housework and marriage. The pressure cooker helped her solve one of the biggest problems - preparing daily healthy meals - but that was just the beginning. She and her husband decided to transform their chaotic life in other ways too, and where it led them was surprising.

This candid confession of a failed supermum offers practical tips for anyone searching for a calmer, simpler, healthier life.

Includes:

The Amazing 7-Minute Risotto and other pressure cooker recipes
How to find more than 24 hours in a day
Role reversal: the pros and cons of house-husbandry
The guilt-free guide to cutting housework

I loved loved LOVED this book and got a lot out of it. She makes really good points about consumerism and role reversals in a way that is not preachy or judgey. I do strongly disagree with her though about getting rid of the dishwasher. That is just Whack. There are heap of great recipes as well and an impressive section on pressure cookers, which are like slow cookers on speed.

If you are lucky enough to win one two copies, do not lend it to your friends as I did, as now I am in the awkward situation of saying, "Have you finished with my book yet? " Stash your copy away and deny it's existence. RandyOrgasm will help me draw this giveaway Friday 16th July.

I believe there are a handful of tickets left to the Working Mums Masterclass in Sydney where Juanita will deliver the key-note speech in her smooth dulcet tones. Do yourself a favour and attend if you can. I will be there with a "Go Girlfriend!" sign.

Now to win, just comment on this post telling me one thing THAT YOU CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT! Dramatic hey! I cannot live without Maggie Beer. Now your turn...............

A we there yet???

It is Thursday and it feels like Friday. It has been a LOOOOOONNNNNGGGG week.

I will begin with my Heros and Villains.

Hero of the week hands down is my step-dad who, while battling leukemia, was diagnosed on Tuesday with Bowel Cancer. Yes a shitty double whammy to a man who is only ever gentle, kind and generous. He faces this new battle in his quiet, competent manner surrounded by hysterical daughters and a trying-to-be-brave wife. Send him some bloggy good vibes for the coming weeks won't you? And donate some blood while you are at it ok?

Villain of the Week is Lindsay Lohan, who for some reason seems to think she is above the law. The best piece of acting she has done in a decade would have to be her performance she put on when the Judge sentenced her to 90 days for parole violation. Oscar Worthy.

Going Up?

• 37 ain't that bad. Was especially delighted to be presented with a bottle of Champers from the motley crew who make my coffee each day... Aw Guys! Had a great dinner with Mr Woog where we got drunk and pashed like we were on a first date. Fun!
• Toy Story 3. See it. Spanish Buzz steals the show, only to be topped my a wardrobe montage by Ken.
• School Holidays half way through and only 2 trips to the Doctors so far. My kids are much safer in their places of education me thinks.
• Finalising plans to spend the entire summer in Bali. Looking for a cat and Guinea pig sitter. Bring it.
• Having fun guest posting over at MummyDiaries and Mummy-Time.
• Posted off the Benefit Giveaway to the winners. Looking forward to another trip tomorrow to post 3 prizes thanks to Trilogy Skincare. Enter here (Before Oprah starts tomorrow) .
• Simmone Logue Pies Hello! Weight Watcher's points Goodbye!
• Danni Minogue, for calling her baby boy a completely normal name. Take note Gwyneth.

And Going Down.......

• The continual argy bargy surrounding the boat people.
• Long cold snap which has hit Sydney.
• My throat, which feels like I have performed fellatio on a cactus.
• The World Cup - a man must have organised this, for if a chick had, it would be done and dusted by now.
• Masterchef - just cannot get into it. But v sad Glee finished tonight.
• Jackie O - for selling her story for $200,000 for getting pregnant. I bet she is going to donate the lot to the children's hospital??

Found some new blogs!
http://thebagtheshoesandtheevolvingwardrobe.blogspot.com/ is a bit of this and a bit of that and a newbie, get on board. You will love it.

http://painefully.blogspot.com/ Nepotism is rife, yes I know. But if you have not discovered the well written and gen y blog from Painefully (aka Mrs Woog's Little Sister) then go self flagellate then click onto read.

And loving this not so newbie http://mommyhasaheadache.blogspot.com/ for general hilariousness.

So, you need to send out bloggy good thoughts, give blood, enter my Trilogy Giveaway, read some new blogs and come and fold my washing. Thanks!

Mrs Woog

xoxo

Whoring my Blog....... again.

In the development of my commitment to pimp myself out to other bloggers, today's post will appear at Mummy-Time where I share tips on how to get even with your significant other in sneaky, underhanded ways.

When Mummy-Time asks you to guest post, you do not say no!

Click Here. Go. Read. Learn.

I Give Up

Sometimes I can be a bit half-assed, and today my dear friend is the day for it! My old brain has turned on itself and I am surrendering to the fact that I cannot come up with anything to post about. So I turn to my pal MummyDiaries and flogged back a post I did for her last week. It is about getting older, and now that I am no longer in my mid-thirties, but my late thirties, I can do what the fuck I want.

PS To make yourself appear younger than you actually are, you may want to enter my Trilogy giveaway.


What do Kate Moss and I have in common?

No, not a rampant cocaine habit….

No, we do not share the same jean size…

Close, but I am probably slightly more attractive.

Give up?

We are the same age…..What the fuck have I done with my life!

Sometimes I look into the back of the Mazda, past the thousand toys and half eaten sandwiches, stare at the kids and think “Who are you? How did you get here?’

But sometimes I feel like the long lost cast member of the Golden Girls.

Occasionally I will try on sexy shoes in shops, love them but place them back onto the shelf due to their impracticability. And their lack of support. I have been known to look at the clock of an evening and repel in horror that is was 10.45pm and I had best turn in as it is a busy start in the morning. I once bought a Woman’s Weekly Magazine. A few weekends ago, I spend a Sunday afternoon wandering around a nursery in St Ives with two girlfriends, admiring the flora and partaking in the café facilities.

On a night out recently, I shook my head at the outfits of young people. I sometimes use the phrase “young people”. I went to the The Establishment, and the only thing I established, was that I was too old to go to The Establishment. I take horseradish and garlic tablets to ward off colds and this morning I wanted to smack out a young lass who, in the paper, said she had not heard of Julia Gillard before.

I don’t want to be 36 years old anymore which is lucky, because next week I get to be 37, the same age as Cameron Diaz. With that comes a whole new set of new fun. Like the 40th Birthday Party Circuit. This brings back fond memories of the 21st birthday party circuit, except with decent presents, better wine and less rooting. There is more pressure to begin venturing into the whispered world of Botox as you watch other school Mum’s faces go from normal to constantly surprised. Dinner reservations are made for 7pm instead of 9.00pm and car parking and directions are often discussed in advance. In detail. None of these are things I like to admit.

Forty is the age I suspect Mr Woog might start some blood pressure medication. A natural born worrier, if the trajectory continues, I am afraid he might be a basket case by then. Oh the Doom and Gloom of it all!

I do not want to be 36 or 37. I was to disgrace myself in severe fashion at my 40th Birthday Party then jump straight to 90, when I can smoke, drink gin for breakfast, swear at young children and shit in my pants. I plan to torment the caregivers at my nursing home with endless games of playing dead and call my kids in the middle of the night with claims that the nurses are stealing from me. I am going to arrange to have Kate and Cameron in the same ward as me. At least I will be able to have 3 serves of pudding, as I still doubt they will be eating but will have to keep my fags in the safe.

Lady Gaga, Christine and 37 Years Ago........

Tomorrow brings the anniversary of my mum Christine doing the huffy puffy to bring me into the world (37 years ago) and yesterday's press gave us an example of how Gen-Yer Lady Gaga paid tribute to my mum for coping with her mastitis which came along soon after my birth.

Thanks Mum for having me!

A Worthwhile Prick.......

A lazy child-free Sunday has presented itself to me. Joy!

I am blatantly ripping off someone elses blog post. I think is is allowed, considering it is my sister Jessica's. Jess is a 25 year old Gen-Y expert who has a sarcastic streak that goes as far as the eye can see.

This is her latest post. Check out more at http://painefully.blogspot.com/ and give her some bloggy love.




I have a rather overwhelming fear of needles. It’s an anticipation thing, and a pain thing, and ultimately an ick thing. I got so worked up when I last went to get a tetanus shot the doctor had to hand me a toy she normally gave 6 year olds and ask me to press the buttons to distract me. I know I’m not made for life or death situations, for high-powered decisions, or very possibly for the experience of giving birth, because if I was I think I would have gotten over the needle thing by now.

When I was at high school a friend once asked me whether I donated blood and I laughed at the absurd concept. Even writing that feels rather selfish, and I can’t help but judge teenaged me a tiny bit.

My father has recently become intimate with the joy of blood transfusions. He doesn’t sit in a hospital for hours getting a foreign substance pumped into his veins for the fun of it – he does it so he can lead a normal life and continue to be the awesome, quietly intellectual, utterly generous dad that I know and love.

I’m that special brand of stupid that required a physical example to snap me out of my selfish streak. The fact that my dad’s health and quality of life has been assured by the assistance of random, anonymous strangers who owed him absolutely nothing had me staring into space for an hour (sorry new employers, that was on your dime).

I decided to suck it up, get over the ick and sign on to donate blood. I was so chuffed with myself I rang my father straight after booking and told him I was doing it. He said he thought that was a nice idea, especially as he’d recently had to stop after giving his own blood for years.

Everyone at the blood bank was so chilled out about what they were doing. I may have thrown them a little when I sprinted through the front door and nearly knocked someone over as I scrambled to the bathroom. In my nervousness in the lead-up that morning I had taken their advice to stay hydrated a little too seriously, so much so that as the woman slid the needle into my skin she muttered under her breath “Wow, you really are hydrated”. It should also be noted that my blood spatter/CSI/vampire/Twilight gags all fell flat on the day.

And then, after 10 minutes of staring pointedly at anything but my arm, it was done. People that say “It doesn’t hurt” are benevolent liars – it does, but not enough to justify not doing it.

As I exited the staff even whipped me up a chocolate milkshake, and I couldn’t help but wonder if in the blood-milkshake exchange, I had got the better end of the deal. And there’s the fact that I also got my father, so with the dad-milkshake double, it hardly feels like I gave them anything in return at all.