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I have been quiet of late.

Not because I have stroked out again.

Not because I am attention seeking.

Or because I have submitted to the mythical black dog and he is picking my jugular out of his teeth with my pinky bone.

I have been shutting down my laptop and not visiting your blogs (as an aside, please don’t abuse me for not commenting on your blog it, doesn’t make me want to run over there and declare my love you know… idiot) and just posting random exclamations on twitter and facebook and wandering off.

Not because I didn’t win the writer thing – hello I was a FINALIST and you weren’t and you are calling ME a sore loser WHATTHEREVERLOVINGFUCK?

Not because I don’t love you all.

Or because I am too arrogant and self centred to not reply to your awesome comments and suggestions this week.

It’s like when you are at a party with all your friends and they are having an amazing time and you are totally happy for them but you are just not feeling it so you hug everyone and go home and sleep it off, safe in the knowledge that next time you will be up there dancing and squealing and having fun like the rest of them.

That.

Not flouncing, there is no rule of the internet that says that you have to post on your blog/twitter/facebook every day.

Not lamenting the fact that I had hundreds of comments on each post and now 20-30 but thank you so much for bringing that to my attention and using it as a reason of why I suck.

I am just not feeling it right now.

So I walked away.  For a few days, maybe a week, who knows.

But I am OK, for those that are worried.

A big FUCK YOU to those that think I am attention seeking or whatthefuckeverIamdeletingyouremailsnowwithoutevenreadingthemyoucan’thurtmelalala

And a see you when I see you to my friends that know that I do this shit sometimes and then I come back posting every single day and clogging your twitter stream and facebook feed with my awesomeness.

Now excuse me while I go and watch endless clips of Extreme Couponing, Cake Boss and Toddlers and Tiaras on YouTube while snuggling up in my green blanket of awesome.  You Americans be batshit crazy, I fucking love you for that.

Do you just walk away from the internet sometimes cause it just gets too much?

Do people email you to abuse you for doing so?

Do you have a good recipe for brownies?

How long do I have to walk all over Newman to burn off a whole tray?

I’m not *insert your concern/accusation here* is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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He arrived with much anticipation.

Chauffeured by a surly motherfucker with a chip on his shoulder and dirty fucking shoes.

I hate him.

I love him.

We are going to spend a lot of time together, Newman and I, sweating and panting.

This morning I dragged myself out of my warm cosy bed and on my way to yell at Boo to get off his fathers laptop and in the shower and throw together his lunch make a latte I saw him standing there in the family room.

Hello Newman…

{five fucking Elmos to mock me as my face rivals theirs…}

Named after Seinfelds nemisis.  A necessary evil.

I hope we grow to love each other.

Meet Newman is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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And while you are in a clicking mood, like me here on facebook so I can feel important and shit.

So if you have been playing along at home you would know that I had a meeting with my bosses boss today.

They promised me the world and a bag of chips to come back ASAP.

A gradual introduction with Boo’s needs and MY HEALTH paramount.

Starting with four hours a week, on a day of my choosing, with HR working closely with me to ensure success.

Everything is changing and new processes and procedures are being formulated and they need me there.

In 2 weeks.

OR if I take more time off – the maximum they will allow is a year and that brings us to the first week of December – all offers are withdrawn and I have to come back my normal hours.

So now we are crunching numbers and wondering what is going to be best MOVING FORWARD… with that niggly voice in the back of my head saying do not trust them.  They just want you back in the door and it will be back the way it always was.  They will fast-track me to full hours within weeks.

Stress upon stress, new things to learn with a brain that refuses to co-operate and an ego that will not admit that I can no longer do it all.

And there is the one year anniversary of my brain fart looming just over the horizon to remind me.

Is it worth the risk?

Either way… I am taking a huge gamble with my future.

Everyones future.

How many fucking pancakes will fit on that motherfucking roof?

I need to decide by Monday.

Pretty much sums up my day is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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Please excuse my absence from the internetz as there is a lot of shit going on at Casa Magnetobold but sure as fuck that motherbitch is getting CLEAN.

I have 2 switches when I am stressed out of my tiny little mind, one is CLEAN. ALL. OF. THE. THINGS. and then cover it with paint.

The other comatose staring at the wall.

Yesterday I was the former.  Today the latter.

Good thing I deep cleaned the undersides of the tables YESTERDAY or I would be so fucking behind…

Heh.

Tomorrow I have the meeting with my bosses boss and I am pretty confident that they are going to fuck me over.

And not in the ‘the safe word is Beyonce’ kinda way either.

Which is a good thing I suppose cause she is totally not my type.

I need your good vibes and/or words with your chosen deity.

I need them to grant the extension to my leave.

I need them to be compassionate.  To understand that I need to do this, I need to get everyone working together for Boo because it is not just HIS future at stake but mine AND his sisters.

I need them to realise that I cannot be in two places at once and the stress of trying to fit it all in will kill me.  Literally.

I need them to say ‘sure, whatever you need.  Your job of 21 years is safe for when you return’

I need this.

So much.

Now please excuse me while I go and stare in my wardrobe for a few hours to try and decide what to wear to a meeting that will pretty much decide the course of the rest of my life.

And I have no fucking say in it whatsoever.

what is the next thing after overwhelmed but just before flinging your own shit at passing motorists? That thing. is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

The comments are considerably better than the actual post, cause I have the funniest and best looking peeps EVER. So click on over and join in.

And while you are in a clicking mood, like me here on facebook so I can feel important and shit.

So anyone that follows me on twitter or the facething would know I DIDN’T go to a bloggers weekend of awesomeness and elected to stay home lest my face fall off.

And instead of having fun with mah girls I stayed home with my boys and did the following:

Made the best french onion soup in the history of soups and photographed the process – which is pretty much hours and hours of watching onions brown – so I can present you with another Foul Mouthed Tutorial.

Yes, I am a giver…

I was serenaded by Shae and her bevvy of drunken beauties (I don’t actually know who else was singing, I only knew it was Shae cause her pic came up on my phone.

Drained pus from my face – that is always fun

Did a fucktonne of washing, yet the baskets are STILL NOT EMPTY.  I am pretty sure it is like when you hire one of those big arsed skip bins and during the night all the neighbours fill it will their rubbish, only this time the bitches want me to do their washing but alas their underwear – although it looks like mine – is slightly too small for me… hmmmm.

Bought a treadmill – as you do… it will be delivered some time in the next week between the hours of 12am and 11.59pm and I better fucking be home when it is delivered or I will have to go and collect it my own damn self.  Oh and BTW they wont bring it in the house and it takes two men – not one woman with fucked up shoulders and a broken back – to lift it.  Tell me why this was a good idea?

Weighed myself OH MAH GAH – clearly the fucker is broken.  Or I needed to do a 10 kilo shit.

Didn’t leave the house – you are WELCOME state of Victoria.

Watched ‘My week with Marilyn’ which was good.

Posted about my attempt to change my attitude - it totally lasted an hour before I was screaming at the sky.  But it is totes cool now, I am chin up boobs out again.

Skyped mah baby girl who was more interested in eating a motherfucking Yogo than talking to her motherfucking mother.  Don’t you have a birthday coming up?  Might pay to give the Party Planner a little attention.

I did a call out for small business/etsy store owners to send me their wares for showcase on this little bloggy thingamahdoodle – if you want to be included contact me here.  I already have some freaking AWESOME stuff to show you!

My peeps are crafty biatches.

So, what did YOU do on the weekend?  

Couldn’t have beaten draining pus out of my eye.  It looked like custard.

Mmmmm custard.

Shit I did on the weekend is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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And while you are in a clicking mood, like me here on facebook so I can feel important and shit.

Yesterday I decided that as of today I am going to be the Princess, nay the QUEEN, of suck it the hell up and swan around being awesome.

Yesterday I decided that as of today thoughts of my blogging buddies at a awesome weekend away with massages (mine is booked for 11) and cocktails and laughter and MOTHERFUCKING JUMPING PILLOWS OMG that I had to regretfully withdraw from because I was gifted cellulitis of the face by my beautician would NOT plummet me into the depths of woe is fucking me.

Yesterday I decided that despite the fact I have a meeting with my bosses boss on Wednesday morning ‘to discuss your options’, and MPS’s job is hanging by a thread through no fault of his own, and Boo’s specialist school just lost a fuck tonne of funding (thankyou Mr Motherfucking Baillieu.  I shall see YOU in HELL) which could potentially mean he can no longer attend, from today I would be the image of sunshine and rainbows and motherfucking positivity.

Yesterday I lamented that everything I love is taken away from me while MPS became the Hacker Slayer and evicted the spineless tiny dicked living in their mothers basement covered in cheese flavoured home brand snack dust, wearing last weeks underwear inside out, call their left hand Gloria cause that is the only way they will get a girlfriend hacker fuckers from my blog, but today I will rejoice that I was not one of the aforementioned suck a syphilitic dick and die from rotting semen filled intestines hacker fucks.

Yesterday I allowed all this and more that I can’t speak of weigh heavily on my mind, safe in the knowledge that today I would suck it up and be awesome again.

So as of today, I have a change in attitude.

None of the above is my fault.  I cannot control what happens to me, just how I react to it.

I chose denial.

With a drop of crazy.

I shall throw my shoulders back, boobs out, chin up and laugh in the face of everyone.

Fuck it all, I am The Queen of Awesome and you shall not bring me down.

So, where is my credit card?  I need to go and buy a unicorn.

Change in ‘tude is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

The comments are considerably better than the actual post, cause I have the funniest and best looking peeps EVER. So click on over and join in.

And while you are in a clicking mood, like me here on facebook so I can feel important and shit.

Post sponsored by BigW Toys

In a couple of weeks it will be the first anniversary of my second stroke so of course that means it is the first birthday of The Golden Childs spawn.

Doesn’t everyone measure events by brain haemorrhages? It’s the only way I remember my own birthday.

Regardless, Boo is especially excited about this birthday as he is quite taken with The Golden Child’s spawn because, lets face it, the kid is pretty damn cute and obviously takes after his auntie.

Because Boo is ALSO quite fond of baby toys (read: I give up, play with the damn Teletubbies and Elmo till you are thirty) I decided to let him do a little online shopping for his cousins present.  This serves MANY MANY purposes:

• I don’t have to stand around for an hour while he plays with EVERY. DAMN. TOY in the shop.

• I don’t have to deal with The Great Unwashed wearing leggings as pants and their snotty nosed children in Crocs drinking Coke out of a baby bottle that congregate out the front of every damn store.

• Nobody has to see me with my Quasimodo hump and pus leaking abscess on my EYE OMG!

• It keeps Boo quiet and happy while I watch some Real Housewives Of All of the Places or fuck around on the internet.

• I can order the stuff online and get it delivered straight to The Golden Child’s house, avoiding the likelihood of Boo deciding to eat our purchases and necessitating in me going back to Big W toys to buy more and then fishing the half digested Thomas The Tank Engine squeezy toy out of the toilet.  Because that totally happened.  Butthead.

• It saves me money and stress getting it delivered to them because I have a shocking track record of actually SENDING shit I buy for people. The Golden Childs Easter Egg still on my desk waiting for me to send it up to him.  Even though he was IN MY HOUSE Easter Sunday.  And The Golden Spawn got his birth present with his Christmas present.  IN JANUARY.

• We wont have the inevitable fight of no we are not buying him a bike/ no you can’t have one too/ oh alright just one toy/ OMG I SAID ONE TOY not an Xbox/ he doesn’t need the entire set of Sesame Street characters/ no YOU don’t need the entire set of Sesame Street characters/ can we go and get mummy a coffee and a valium now? Because he will have NO IDEA what I actually purchased and he has the joy of picking every damn toy in the entire department and putting it in the little online shopping cart and thinking that his awesome Mummy bought them all for his cousin.

Win/win I say.  And I didn’t even have to wear pants.

HUZZAH!

Shopping for The Golden Spawn. is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

The comments are considerably better than the actual post, cause I have the funniest and best looking peeps EVER. So click on over and join in.

And while you are in a clicking mood, like me here on facebook so I can feel important and shit.

Once a year we get a night off.

A night where we can turn the TV up as loud as we want or sit in complete silence.

A night where not every. fucking. light. in the entire house has to be blazing along with every electrical appliance with a screen lest someone lose their complete shit at a blank screen.

A night where we can go out to dinner or the movies or whatthefuckever we want to do and come back whenthefuckever we please.

A night where I can drink as much wine as I want and not have that niggling voice in the back of my mind wondering if Boo will decide that I must be up with him as he flings himself at walls and asks endless questions about the motherfucking Teletubbies movie that he has been making for 8 years and hasn’t got past the opening credits.

Stellar cast BTW:  Tom Cruise as Tinky Winky is pure genius.

A night where I don’t wake at 3am to the sounds of Boo running down the hallway, up and ready for the day.

So tonight is that night.  Tonight Boo is at overnight camp and all that is someone else’s problem and we can pretend we are real people for a night.

Dinner and a show?

Awesome.

Popcorn for dinner?

Why the fuck not?

Sleep till noon?

Hellz to the fucking yeah.

All of those things would be fucking awesome, if it wasn’t for this tiny little issue of me taking a metric fucktonne of antibiotics that make me feel like shit but are the only thing between me and a IV drip in the local hospital, because I went and got myself a nice little case of motherfucking cellulitis of the motherfucking FACE and my eye is THANKFULLY no longer almost swollen shut and I am able to cover the redness with makeup, but I am pretty sure if we tried to go anywhere we would either be not admitted for health regulation issues – because no one could possibly keep a meal down looking at my face – or MPS would be arrested for assault or bringing endangered wildlife into a public area.

So needless to say I am:

rather pissed at the timing,

looking for a new fucking beautician cause the doc reckons it could have been caused by my recent eyebrow waxing,

rocking the indoor sunglasses look,

and missing my boy already and it is only fucking 11.30am.

Night off?  U R doin it wrong.

Night Off. is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

The comments are considerably better than the actual post, cause I have the funniest and best looking peeps EVER. So click on over and join in.

And while you are in a clicking mood, like me here on facebook so I can feel important and shit.

Oh woe is me:

It is just too hard keeping up with the squillions of comments…

Dealing with the fact that no one comments…

Nobody VALIDATES ME…

I am a better writer than HER and she gets all the glory…

OMG I need attention TOO YOU KNOW!

Blogging is taking away too much valuable time from my family…

I got a TROLL! Some one disagreed with me!  I am running away from this evil internet…

I have already said all I want to say…

I am going to write a book…

No-one really GETS me…

No brands ever approach me…

Too many PR companies are contacting me and wanting my valuable time that I need to devote to my loyal fans and it is all too much…

*insert attention seeking pathetic phrase here*

…

So farewell dear friends, this is my swan song and I will leave my blog here with comments open because I just paid 2 years hosting fees up front so you can all beg me not to leave, and I will hit refresh over and over on my now MOST TRAFFICKED POST EVER and declare on Facebook and Twitter every 2 hours that I have quit blogging and I am so RELIEVED but I will miss you all so much, and then add a link to my flouncing post directing you to leave your adoring comments begging me to keep blogging THERE so everyone can see how very popular I really am and I shall make note of those that truly care about me enough to beg me to continue with my inane musings about how cute my kid/cat/husband/house/God/cake is.

And then a couple of days later I will post again like nothing had happened.

Rinse.  Repeat.

Until I get sufficient attention to feed my ego or declare the internet full of high school bitches and go back to MySpace.

Quitting blogging is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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Regardless of your parental status, have a fucking awesome day today biatches.

I shall be spending the day being worshipped in the manner I have requested.  You know as soon as Boo gets off the computer, Moo wakes up from her deathbed and MPS gets out of the toilet.

And I shall be posting pics of all my bribes gifts and spoilage on my facebook page. Like me there cause I would totes love to get to one billion facebook likers by the end of the day.

MOTHERfucking HUZZAH!

Happy Mothers Day is a post from: MagnetoBoldToo!

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And while you are in a clicking mood, like me here on facebook so I can feel important and shit.