I Think I Can, I Think I Can...

Okay, here's the deal. This little blue caboose is going to try and get back into blojo mode and blog every day, or at the very least, every couple of days. May be short on our busy school holiday's days, but at least something. Even perchance just a quick "Toot, toot!" Now, as Trav seems to have dropped his Memoir Monday mode (*mutter*mutter**curse*curse*) I may have to come up with some other bandwagon to hitch my tales of a tiny terror onto.

Oh, look, screw it I will try one more time to kickstart the dinosaur tomorrow, so start thinking up your Monday Memoirs and I'll put in a McLinky thingy in the post. If this post HINTING for him to step up doesn't work, and I'll go kick Trav one to see if he will at least direct people here if HE doesn't get off his increasingly smaller butt and do it (hint, hint)...

Ooh, excitement - it now seems, according to his blog, he intends to! Remember that he is a yank, and it means it will be put up at some ungodly hour late on Monday, so I will still post here tomorrow arvo, and then edit to link to the TRAV! (Maybe I should have read the small print on his blog before coming in to blurb, oops. My bad.)

Oh, and people, if you wish to find out the story behind the Toot Toot, you'll need to tune in tomorrow.

And if you like what you read please follow, or at least comment so I get a little of my much needed positive feedback (it is hard being a blogger, we do crave some accolades you know).  Oh another thing - hey you lot - ever noticed how much I link your blogs when I refer to them? Hell, ever noticed how much I refer to other blogs at all? Well - how about some reciprocating, huh?

I'm feeling a little neglected over here in the closet...

Memoir Monday - Like Sands Through the Hour Glass...

so are the days of our lives? Yeehaw: It's Memoir Monday time again!

Oops, not that one... this one:



As the Trav says:
"Hey y'all. This little thing is called Memoir Monday, and I'd be thrilled if you gave it a shot. Just jot down a story about yourself, grab my code down there, and I'll link you up to be read by all my wonderful blog buddies. The only rule? It has to be true. I am personally doing what I can to help cure your case of the Mondays. Thanks for playing along!"


Screaming masses of stalkerish fans join this blog hop sorta thing of the fisherman. If you want to be in the kewl group then leap on over and join in. Just make sure the tale you tell is one to captivate and, of course, the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth!

And so on with my Monday Madmother Mouthing Off.

Friends often tell me: "You should write a book." Not because they adore my turn of phrase or written prose, nor due to any underlying adulation of my ability to spin a tale. No. Merely because my life has ALWAYS seemed to lurch from crisis to crisis. Just like a soap opera.

So, for today's Monday Memoir, I am going to tell you a story from my overly dramaticised youth. In standard subtle soap script style of course.

Scene 1:  Crowded Ballroom.

Our heroine, Bad Girl (prior to Madmotherdom), has just had a confrontation in the ladies room with Old Wife, who was formerly married to The Crush. Bad Girl and The Crush had enjoyed a brief relationship during a break in his marriage. The Crush had since survived a failed reconciliation attempt and now was with Boring as Batshit Woman. Bad Girl, unused to defeat, was still nursing a badly bruised ego and a lingering lust for The Crush. These unrequited emotions did not stop her from starting a new sensual adventure with the aptly named Toy Boy. Toy Boy has crashed the Ball to seek out his partner in the carnal.

TB:  "Hey. Thought you might need me, so me and Offsider decided to drop in and crash this joint."
BG: "You told me this was not your scene, you told me you weren't coming to some boring formal crapshot place."
TB: "It isn't my scene, but you are. I figured with The Crush, Boring as Batshit Woman, and Old Wife being here it might get a bit difficult."
BG: " *Sniff*, she said "Here it comes, would you look at what it's wearing!" Then her bunch of witches sniggered at me. *Sniff!*"
TB: "Whaaaaaat? Look at her? Come on - really look at her! She is a scrag. You are looking so hot tonight, how can anything she said worry you? What, didn't they have a mirror in the toilets? Do you not know how good you are looking?"
BG: "You're just saying that to get me to take you home with me."
TB: "No I am not. You look amazing. Come on, let's dance."

All eyes upon them, they take over the dance floor. At one point TC tries to cut in but is rebuffed, OW scowls from her seat, BaBW, well, is just boring as batshit.

Cue theme music.

The end.

And yes, I did take him home that night, but it wasn't the first time, nor was it to be the last.