If you want to click here, you can see my recap.
And I also wanted to tell them about my mum. She stayed on Tuesday night and so me and the kids concocted up a little mystery box challenge for her. And because BabyMac was staying the night because she was doing a segment on Mornings on Channel 9, I knew the key ingredient had to be PORK.
Mum was so up for it, god luv her.
She had never seen Masterchef before, but knows her way around a kitchen like it ain't nobodies business. And she had a helper. A sous chef if you will.......
Soooooo, as part of the launch of the site this week, they threw a huge big party last night and if there is free booze and the runner up from The Voice singing, I am there. Pass the envelope please and I will open it. Or stand there while someone else opens it. Or something like that.... I am tired. (note - come back here before you publish this and put some sort of sensible opening of an envelope reference here...)
Have you ever gone to a party on your own not knowing if you would know anyone? My tactic was to place myself in between some very unattractive ladies so I could up the hot factor. And it so did not matter that my greasy hair was in a ponytail and I had ballet flats on. Not one bit.
I was introduced to Dr Chris Brown. I asked him if he remembered frantic calls about 18 months ago concerning a lamb that had broken it's leg. He remembered! He asked how Lucky was getting on, and I was all proud grandmothery like when I told him that Lucky now had her own family and was thriving on a farm near Maitland.
Look at me! I was totally fitting in with the celeb crowd! I even met one of the new Hi 5 chicks and warned her off trying to have sexual relations with other members of the Hi 5 team because that was just not very wholesome. She was in total agreement. Megan Gale was there and I just could not talk to her because she was so pretty she hurt my eyes and then, I spotted them.
My mind quickly raced. How could I go up to these dudes and tell them......
Click here to read the WHOLE story so it may make a bit more sense. |
"Wassup Mrs Woog?" |
"Oh my god my kids love you all so much but mainly you Gary even though you have monkey ears. You have changed the way we discipline our kids. My dinners are now called dishes and are scored according to taste, invention and plating up. My son quenelles bubbles in the bath with two spoons. And seriously? Is Audra going to win?"
And I also wanted to tell them about my mum. She stayed on Tuesday night and so me and the kids concocted up a little mystery box challenge for her. And because BabyMac was staying the night because she was doing a segment on Mornings on Channel 9, I knew the key ingredient had to be PORK.
under the cloche |
She had never seen Masterchef before, but knows her way around a kitchen like it ain't nobodies business. And she had a helper. A sous chef if you will.......
And she scored straight 10's from the judges. And now she goes into the next round.
But, getting back to the Hooroo Launch Party, by the time I worked out what I wanted to say, the 3 men had left.
And so I took my out of place, tired, slightly drooping mummy blogger ass home.
This morning, the boys jumped into bed with me and told me that Beau had been voted off the kitchen island last night. I told them that I almost nearly met the judges from Masterchef the previous evening. Harry said "Picture or it did not happen." and I then had to explain that it did not happen, because I was too busy trying to figure out how to accidentally meet them without pouring a drink on one of them.
They did not seem that impressed.
And that is how you write a name dropping, strangely disjointed post. Now I am off to clean out the guinea pig cage and ball a thousand pairs of motherfucking socks.
THE END.
But, getting back to the Hooroo Launch Party, by the time I worked out what I wanted to say, the 3 men had left.
And so I took my out of place, tired, slightly drooping mummy blogger ass home.
This morning, the boys jumped into bed with me and told me that Beau had been voted off the kitchen island last night. I told them that I almost nearly met the judges from Masterchef the previous evening. Harry said "Picture or it did not happen." and I then had to explain that it did not happen, because I was too busy trying to figure out how to accidentally meet them without pouring a drink on one of them.
They did not seem that impressed.
And that is how you write a name dropping, strangely disjointed post. Now I am off to clean out the guinea pig cage and ball a thousand pairs of motherfucking socks.
THE END.