Hello and welcome most dearest Readers of mine,
I would like to humbly welcome you to the beginning of a new month, in my case because I have been working on this, the third day of May for those who reside outside of Australia and the fourth days for those who live in my glorious kangaroo riding country. While thanking people, I would like to take this opportunity to thank Mother Nature for once again being bipolar and for having a boiling hot flush to being cold as ice.
Please do not get me wrong, I am thankful it managed to keep its summery weather because I left packing my bags till the last minute like I normally do after deciding whether or not to go for winter/summer clothing. After Googling what the weather was going to be like for the weekend, I threw some clothes into a bag while running around trying to get ready for Uni because unfortunately, my mini break hadn’t started just yet and I had a tutorial to attend. Describing my actions as ‘running around in circles and stressing’, I forgot to pack the utmost important thing that I most desperately needed.
|Forgot the girls!|
The photo to your left will tell you what I forgot to throw into my bag of goodies, that contained my whips and chains. Yeap, I forgot to pack the girls that would no doubt give me a little more ‘oomph’ in the boob department. While rivalling the rack of a mannequin in my local Myer department. But on a serious note, I didn’t need the chicken fillets as it was difficult enough to tame the girls because on a few occasions, I was close to greeting people with a full gun salute.
No, the idea of packing a bikini was replaced with yours truly talking to herself, checking to make sure that she had brought her charger for her phone, iPad, student id, bra, undies and toothbrush. My (lack of) knowledge of what was happening for the weekend was replaced with the idea of chilling with a corona, a lime floating around in the bottom (learnt that trick from the Sheriff and on that note: put thumb over the lip of the bottle!) and my shockingly half tanned legs splayed out on a towel while enjoying the rays.
In Lois’ case, Friday was going to be spent something along the lines of: Cook dinner, have a few drinks (make that three martinis or stiff G&T, four olives), collapse into seat, smile and make sure everyone has had plenty of food. Saturday was going to be spent recovering from the previous night after gauging ourselves on birthday cake, alcohol and laughing so much that I may have pulled a muscle, getting ready for the party that night and gallivanting off into the sunset with Mr Darcy. Or in my case, my real life 5 year old size Woody Doll. Sunday was the Twin’s idea of hitting the beach, therefore in turn being hit with the water while taking a few nose dives like a professional or being a complete pussy and sitting on the beach.
|Shaken, not stirred.|
But before I begin that delightful story of muscle pulling laughs and optimal coverage of well nothing, I was rewarded after my hard and long day at Uni which came to 32 minutes from the moment I walked into the my class till the moment I walked out; an epic 11 minute walk to the putt putt place near my uni. Which was capped off in the priceless moment of me nearly publicly shitting myself from fright because there was a dead possum on the pathway and the ever hard debate of ‘should I take a photo and upload it to instagram or save it for my blog?’. Least to say, with a council worker pissing himself with laughter and having to use the side of his car to hold him up, I forgot all about the bloody possum and stalked off.
Gracing Jerry with my fantastic presence, when getting comfortable for my journey which means taking off shoes, I noticed my right ankle was the size of a melon. Being the idiot that I am, I poke the puffiness leading to me complaining about how painful it was and trying to figure out what the underlying illness or my case, condition was causing my ankle to be swollen. And that was when the answer hit me in the head like a two by four. The Friday previously, I had opted to wear my boots and since I catch public transport to Uni, I sprained my ankle while getting onto and off the bus. And only to redo it again when I was on campus and didn’t think much of it after I got home.
|Presenting L-R: Deany Poo, Tim & Quinton.|
So after Jerry and I were playing with some big burly truckies, being serenaded with complete silence from the back seat (see photo); we touched down safely in front of The White House. After greeting the Humog, he stared at me like I was some strange and foreign person he had never met before, Lois as I predicted came running out but in her defence, shall say strolling.
The hugging session that I thought would last until next year had been declared was cut down to a sharp five minutes to the tee and with that, having to get used to the idea of my neck being smelt (repeatedly). Lois steps back from me after unwrapping her body from mine, adjusts herself back into ‘Mum’ mode and tells me forcefully, “You either help your Father or you stuff the chickens for me”.
Love it how Lois automatically offers me the idea of going into a tiny little area or stuffing my hand up a chicken’s butt and gagging at the idea of having to take a kidney out. Least to say I opted to help with stuffing the chickens because there is something about being in tiny places with five other people breathing my oxygen, that freaks me the fuck out. And since we had ‘accidently‘ run out of stuffing because who has time these days to blitz up some bread, dry it out by roasting blah blah, I grabbed the car keys and wallet. Causing Kaffy to automatically want to take over driving before I stood up, did a Peter and told her, “Kaffy, if you don’t like it then you can stay here in your bat cave or you can get in, sit down, buckle yourself in”.
|“Oh, they make such a lovely couple!”|
Least to say, she did exactly that. After shopping and trying to find 6 dozen eggs out of thin air, we being Kaffy, Deany-Poo and myself, drove incredibly slow down the streets since all the crazy drivers were out because it was Easter long weekend. Now on our way back home and since I cannot drive in a car without music playing in the background, I turned on the radio and that is when we introduced my beloved, Deany to The Angels.
Now for those who have been living under a rock, Lady Blacksnot, please feel free to Youtube The Angels and in particular; ‘Am I Ever Going To See Your Face Again’. Now you will notice during the song that there will be a substantial amount of time that has doesn’t have any lyrics to it what so ever. This is when you quite casually yell on top of your lungs, ‘no way, get fucked, fuck off!‘. Least to say, the neighbours have gotten used to our excellent music choice that if often blaring away when pulling up and continuing singing into the house. And Deany was horrified when Kaffy and I started screaming this on top of our lungs while taking a corner at a slow 20k’s *cough cough*.
|The Twin’s before cutting the cake.|
Thursday night after formally introducing everyone to the beloved Fairy Godmother, who had driven up from Mexico to be part of the celebrations, we spent the night lounging around the dining room table casually chatting about how our week had been. It was also spent cutting the birthday cakes that Kaffy had so beautifully picked out for both her and Frodo, because collapsing tiredly into bed.
Friday came all too quickly for my personal taste as the sun shone brightly and Ziva made her mad dash around the house, pausing every now and then to meow on top of her lungs. She was quickly greeted with the idea of going outside into the Bat cave before spending the next few hours walking around the house. Moving to lounge on the couch, spending an hour with the Humog who was trying to crawl into my lap because he had missed me so much and sniffing the bandage I had wrapped around my foot before posing for a couple of photos.
Finally after what seemed like an eternity but was only five hours since I woke up, I had the brilliant idea of getting the old gang back together (like Rizzo and Danny from Grease) and hitting the road on an Adventure. Please note this time, all of us were wearing shoes, had all of our toenails and we didn’t go anywhere near trains or train tracks. So having that idea in my head and using modern day technology, a quick phone call later and everyone from Lady Tarie, Master S and Frodo, we were hitting the slops without the faintest idea of where the hell we were going. Which is why we ended up in the middle of bloody no where.
|In the middle of No Where.|
Literally. While everyone else was hearing Chet Faker playing on Triple J, I was hearing the steady build up of a redneck killing song being played on banjo’s by rednecks named Cleatus and Jim Bob-Joe. With that, I started to freak out and told them that there was rednecks coming for us with banjos who were going to kill us. And what made it even worse was that my so called little side kick, Master S, had completely flaked out of me and with that, I slowly began to plot the end of my life and therefore my will silently.
Alas we made it to a tiny little town some three hours after leaving The White House and found a quaint little park. Need to say that the elderly couple with their grandkids were not amused in the least when a brady bunch of crazies piled out of cars and headed for various parts of the playground, laughing. In the end because we are the O’Chunkys, Royalty and Jerry’s, we had successfully managed to get the park to ourselves.
Claiming my swing which I am proud to say, did not come attached with a safety device that I swear locks children in deliberately, so some sick disturbed air monster gets a kick out of watching parents struggle when trying to realise their children. Before chucking my phone to Hooper, my brother’s friend and demanding in a nice tone that he should take some photos for me. I even graced him with a slow grin, eyelash flutter and cheeky little wink that had my little bidding done. Never knew until that moment that my feminine charm of eyelash fluttering would work.
Have to admit that when looking back at the photos after downloading them, that Hooper took some really amazing photos. And that it would be wrong of me to share anything else but the one that I thought was appropriate. The photo that described his undying love, the true capture of his heart, the rumbling of those creaky little leg muscles he has when running into the arms of his beloved. In simple man to woman terms, his bromance otherwise known in Hooper’s case: Bob!
|Hooper’s one true bromance.|
Now for those who are sitting there with their mouths’ open, thinking “I never knew he was gay. When did this happen?”; would like to clarify: Bob is still interested in kitty, likes women, appreciates all the fine and wonderful things that a woman has and is in possession of. But he will and still loves his dude. Man friend. Boy friend that is a boy and is a friend. In other terms: HE IS STILL STRAIGHT!
However I soon grew bored of swinging back and forth and therefore the sensation of if I went any higher then five inches off the ground, I would break a bone in my face or be eating mulch. Leaving my swing and someone claiming it, I got epic photos that would no doubt would be captioned with some amazing and hysterical titles to it. Such as the photo I got of the Twin’s sitting on a see saw and Kaffy is pointing off into the distance with both of them looking at the object.
The thought that came to mind was that poor Lois was never going to live it down, especially when it came to arguments between the Twins. And what I mean is, when it came to them arguing, the whole issue of “I am 9 minutes older, I am legally older and therefore I can boss you around” would arise each time. And still today after 21 years of sharing the same world, same womb until Kaffy decided it was time to ‘get the hell out’; we are still hearing those words and probably will do so until the end of time.
|Kaffy on the left and Frodo on the right.|
In fact, I personally reckon Lois and Red should have named her Removalist as Kaffy saw it her job to constantly remove things that Frodo was busily sucking on. Everything from his fist to removing his bottle because she was hungry and stealing of dummies and tucking them behind her head or turfing them out of the crib. However, the main talk of conversation that is often brought up when talking about the Twins still being in the womb, was the fascinating day Lois had a audience of medical staff, who were watching the amazing performance of Kaffy belting the shit out of Frodo and watching of Frodo started to cry. Lois thinks that someone had brought popcorn when it came to watching the twins through ultrasound.
As the years went by, poor Frodo would become the target of multiple karate chops to the neck, particularly when practicing ju jitsu moves when I could no longer handle the pain and high kicks to the face, leading him to crumbling to the ground and waking up to find his twin sister standing on his chest. The words of “Girls Rule!” being permanently etched into the back of his brain. Now for the guy who is reading this and could potentially marry my Sister, I suggest buying: shin guards, a cup or two for the puppies, a cricket helmet or you have the option of wrapping yourself up in bubble wrap because you piss her off; it was nice knowing you. As your loving (I hope otherwise: I’m plotting your death) Sister-In-Law, I have provided you an option of protection so please refer to the photo below.
|Any of these options would be great!|
Frodo on the other hand, know how to cook his favourite meals, tend to his manly needs of rubbing his shoulders when he needs to be reminded what a good man he is. Tell him that you love him on a daily basis, when having an argument remember why you thought/knew he was the one. And for God’s sake, please have excellent taste in shoes otherwise, your Mother-In-Law (Lois) and I are going to be severely disappointed and that will need to change. Not us but your shoe option.
Now after running around for an hour or so, capturing some more photos and having a swing with Master S while holding hands, we decided it was time to head back to The White House. What had been originally a three hour drive with Lady Tarie stopping to scream out “donkey!” and taking a detour to find a winery down a dirt road, we soon discovered we were only thirty minutes from the house going down the freeway and how we should smuggle a cow home. That was quickly brought stopped when we drove past Deany’s car and noticed that they were now having to change a flat tyre. Have to admit, I did crack the joke of ‘how many men does it take to change a tyre?’ when Deany turned around and replied with, “Bitch please, you know you love the idea of being swarmed by men’.
Saturday was not as entertaining because we mainly spent the day, chilling before getting ready for the evening. Knowing that it would take me at least two hours to get ready from hair to make up and slipping into my dress; I opted to take over my parents bedroom with my salon of hair products. After two hours and having to resist the urge of hacking my hair off with scissors because the length was pissing me off; I finished curling my hair. Thirty minutes later and I had a full face of make up on complete, only for my lipstick to be a bitch and not turn out how I wanted it too look.
|The O’Chunky’s with the very modern day, Fairy Godmother|
After killing the O-zone layers with hairspray so my hair stayed curly and still grumbling over my lipstick, I finally locked the door after the last person went out and managed to ring Jerry in to help me into my dress. After stitching myself into my corset, fixing my hair, checking my lipstick while wondering what The Sheriff would think if I sent him a snap; I gave myself an evil grin and glided out the door. That was only after I sent Lady Blacksnot a snap of the girls looking pretty fine in my dress and the caption of: cannot breathe. Before having a few photos taken of me and family.
Having known that everyone had photos taken, it wasn’t until the following Monday when they had been all downloaded that I saw what had happened. Laughing at the things that we had taken, the laid back feeling that seemed to come out of the photos and the look of sheer surprise like Jerry had found two girls hiding her garden, we came across the photos that had been taken Saturday. The favourite that stuck of mine of Jerry and the boys were: Jerry Hall, The Blues Brothers and my personal favourite, Arr! me hearties pirate.
After leaving The White House, we headed for our area of destination only for us to take the wrong turn off, because the O’Chunkys are never early for anything. Saturday night was spent dancing around in circles with a handsome, young and rather dashing man who could wear a suit quite nicely; doing shots with the Easter Bunny before striding out like my shit didn’t stink and because I like to surprise people; even made my public appearance singing. However, would like to mention: I was sober and surprisingly enough, I think I sounded okay-ish?.
Dragging Lois onto the dance floor because you cannot leave the evening without having a motherly and daughterly dance. So we spun around the floor like we were absolutely tanked and sang on top of our lungs. Can say that experiencing those few moments just to be Betty and Lois had been the thing that I’d been craving for a few weeks before spinning her off into the arms of Red. The way that they looked at each other had been watching in amazement knowing they still loved each other after a century of being married but also in disgust when they kissed like any kid would do. Because….ew, its like their parents! Secretly, I was clapping inside okay. Like most fun nights, my personal Woody Doll was calling it quits because we had made him dance for hours on end and was claiming for bed. Now. So before we called it a night, we opted to have a group photo and all I can say is: Jerry looks like she is stoned, Lady Tarie has a weird fascination about ears and licking/biting them, Kaffy is totally pulling off her ‘wha’ up dude’ attitude and my boobs wanted to make an appearance.
Sunday morning was spent recovering on the couch because I forgotten how hard the O’Chunky kids like to party when they are together and talking to the Fairy Godmother. Frodo decided that it was time us kids got off our arses and headed for the post recovery breakfast. Which turned out to be no breakfast but rather hitting the sun and surf like a true Aussie kid. Now since I am a pro at not packing my bags correct as we can tell and with that forgetting to pack my bikini, I was opting to wear something until someone so gentlemanly pointed out “isn’t that a bra?”. Okay so maybe in my head it kind of looked like a retro looking bikini but if they pointed out it was a bra, I decided I better tuck my tits into a proper bikini before going to the beach.
And with that, I humbly thank Lady Tarie for owning a trillion bikinis because she kindly let me borrow an amazing blue one that made me feel like a million bucks and had many stares looking at me. Hitting the sand after taking some photos because what Adventure Time cannot be documented both in real life but also into our amazing Facebook folder, we hit the sand dunes like a bunch of beach starved kids and set up our zone. That was before some of us casually strolled like we owned the whole beach towards the water and some of us non mermaids opted to stay behind. That being myself and Master S as he decided we needed to get water for his sandcastle and that he needed to start digging a hole right next to Mum’s towel.
That was until I was tasting sand particles in the back of my mouth and wondering why my teeth were making crunching sounds. And the reason behind that was not because of Master S and his belief that I needed to check out his bucket of water from my lying position, but because some matured aged wanker liked to kick his feet into people’s faces while walking. By this time, Lady Tarie and Deany had come back from the water as ‘it was cold’ and I was not impressed about wanker face. And just as I about to go and bust my left boob, Deany said outloud, “Who the fuck wears nut huggers when their arse is so saggy, I could use it for a cashmere sweater?”
I knew there was a reason why I love gay guys.
The rest of our Sunday was spent flouncing around in the water, building sandcastles, sitting on people, taking photo of someone’s butt in the group (a tradition I do) and feeling the sense of freedom that often greets me when I am at the beach. Doing that, I got to spend some amazing time with my siblings, laughing hysterically at the snap chats I was sending and receiving from Lady Blacksnot and Sweet Lips, before the ultimate goal of wanting a mermaid soon become all of the attention of the group. It may have been everyone else’s ultimate goal of wanting to capture a mermaid on dry land but Lady Tarie, was soon the victim of our plot and just to make her feel better, she had a pretty decent sandy rack by the end of it.
Before I leave you with some of my favourites shots that I managed to capture while I was somewhere over the rainbow, I would like to wish my Darling Twins a very late and belated, Happy Birthday. They are everything that makes my world go round amongst other things but they will always continue to be my number one favourite things that I could not live without if I was on a desert island. Happy Birthday Kaffy and Frodo, may the year of being 21 be filled with candid moments that capture your breath and heart, to live recklessly in doing something that you absolutely love and cannot live without. And may you be truly happy and blessed. I love you, your always loving and faithful sister, S~.
|The Little Love of my life…. Master S.|
|“We captured a Mermaid Mummy!”|
|” I LOVE YOU SCARLETT!!”|
Until next time,