KerrieJean.com

After I finish this missive I’m going under the doona - indefinitely………

……SO exhausted am I after an incredibly philosophically taxing hot drink with a dear friend.

It started as per normal…….

I reported in on my latest ponderings and personal breakthroughs……….

……A date suddenly ending in whiplash when I - in a minxy mood - pushed the car seat ’recline’ button before releasing the seat belt, a new age spot on an unmentionable body part….

……And on the political front, the bleedingly obvious…… 

Julia and The Mousse Man will not marry because the Gay Rights Nuptials Lobby would surely muck up the big day.

When the ‘if anyone knows why Julia and the Mousse Man shouldn’t be joined together by hair extension glue, say so now or forever hold onto your toupee’,  protesters would shout: 

Simple!  Because if we can’t why the bloody hell can youse two?

My dear friend said that, as usual, I was thinking [and living] with breathtaking clarity.

THEN she said:

But KJ, what’s it all about, what’s it ALL about?

I had been waiting for this question – the big one - since at least the start of this financial year.

I said:

Life is a colossal Bushells tea chest…..

In it, a stubby glass surrounded by much bubble wrap.

In the stubby glass, all the things we have to do to give the impression we are responsible participants in this thing loosely called life……

…… Contributing birthday cake money for unpleasant work mates, paying exorbitant rent in sub-standard Tora Bora condominiums, keeping  Brazilian waxing appointments,watching ‘7:30′…..

Now, to that bubble wrap…….

Most folks [my dear friend] spend their lives in the Bubble Wrap Zone but best to avoid it like the mouse plague currently making a mockery of the Great Australian Bite.

The Bubble Wrap Zone is where aggressive renovators, superannuation obsessives  [pie in the sky just before you die] and the filthy rich cyronics set, lurk.

Instead, they should attend my free, upcoming seminar titled:

Guess what? No One Lives For Four Hundred Years.

Then there are The Boundary Riders.

[This is living! cr: State Library Sth Aust: flickr]

The Boundary Riders know the Bubble Wrap Zone is preposterous terrain.

They’ve been Ridin’ The Boundary forever.

……Enjoyin’ grits under the stars with other Boundary Riders,  fulfillin’ crucial fence hole pluggin’ responsibilities and enjoyin’ the sweet company of other Boundary Riders who occasionally – as if out of now where - appear at warm campsites.

But make no mistake [my dear friend] Boundary Riders are as terrified of Death as anyone else.

Even more so.

A mesquite bush ain’t got no chance against them there winds that blows and blows along the boundary fence.

And weez all mesquite bushes.

And that [my dear friend] is all this mesquite bush is gonna say at this here juncture…..

My dear friend gave me a big hug and I went blowin’ up the street.

****For the new visiting mesquite bushes in here a big howdydodedo……and you might enjoy checking out how kerriejean.com marked The Fall of *The Rev Kev, June, 2010.  

*The Rev Kev was a great supporter of this site…..

….Then, as history records, he went blowin’ off  in the wind just like…like…..[I got it!] that certain bush we’ve been talkin’ ’bout. 

http://www.kerriejean.com.au/2010/06/rudd-spill-afp-swearing-units-rush-to-parl-h/

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Don’t ya just hate people when they say: ‘Don’t worry about Death, there’s nothing you can do about it.’

Ain’t that THE problem?

Ain’t that the starting point?

Oh dear…..but I do feel better having written this little piece……

Alright, alright!

Saddle up…..!

Report in………ain’t gonna cost you a thing……may even make those grits taste a little finer. Every thought, every dream, every nightmare, valid……

 Do it [report in, that is] by:

Just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo.

Following on from my urgent missive on the new perils of cyber dating I have received a highly alarming unsolicited ‘on the ground’  report from my [unpaid] field correspondent, Roma Street.

[ My scary story if you missed it: http://www.kerriejean.com.au/2011/06/exclusive-no-women-on-dating-sites-by-2012/]

Is there NO end to the depravity passing itself as ‘high romance’ on so-called social media facilities?

Already, there’s thousands of nervy people in this site but if The Bald Face/Bumbook Truth makes us all tremble from the knees up even more – so be it.

Forthwith, I am calling for everyone to get Face/Bumbook out of their intimate lives.

If that’s NOT possible, I’d strongly counsel you rip down the page of  anyone you’re *romantically involved with - NOW! 

[*romantically involved = at least one date]

Now…….take it away Roma Street……

The ethics-free or ethics-neutral date-seeker can always go the thoroughly modern option of cutting someone else’s lunch via Facebook.

‘We did not meet on Facebook’: cr: BergenPublic Libray: flickr]

Pick out someone you used to go out with at high school or university, and give them a poke on Facey as a preliminary to giving them a poke in real life.

Judging from the anecdotal evidence of my geographical and parenting peers [a couple of whom have lost spouses to the practice], the Facebook hook-up with the long-lost squeeze is de rigeur for today’s toey singleton.

“Dear So-and-So who used to go to Leeton High School/Temora TAFE/Mitchell College,

Geez, what a small world.

I was just scrolling through a list of people on Facebook with the same exact first and last names as you, and there you were.

I often look back on those days and think…… etc etc etc……

I suppose by now you’re happily etc etc etc…………

I guess it wouldn’t do any harm if we etc etc etc etc….”

The next thing you know, someone else’s husband is standing before the mother of his children, suitcase in hand, saying:

“We really feel we owe it to ourselves to explore these feelings.”

Bingo.

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Ed’s note: Well, the tides may be rising and if we don’t do something soon we’ll all be wearing UV Cream to bed,  but Roma Street’s  report back made me feel very queasy indeed.

Does anyone have personal experience of Face/Bumbook as a romantic tool?

Would love to hear your ghastly [or happy] story – think of your contribution as a community service……..does that make it any easier?

Do your community service by:

Just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo.

Eavesdropping isn’t rude…….it’s a  community service.

If citizens who leave their homes of their own free will don’t want me listening in I suggest they adjourn to a confessional or a Commonwealth Bank vault or somesuch…..

And thank God you’ve got me eavesdropping more than an ASIO recruit on Red Bull because I’m able to report trends well before Mr Hugh Mackay can say ‘focus group!’

So it is ladies and gentlemen that I’m able to confidently report that angry-as-all-get-out women of a certain age are quitting dating sites in droves.

This is a conversation I happened on yesterday at my local Free Trade And Free Eavesdropping coffee shop.

I am reporting it because I have overheard many others of an eerily similar ilk…

It’s quite possible that you’ve had such a conversation but failed to let me know (a) where and (b) when.

[Decent fella not on a dating site: cr: Library of Congress: flickr]

The scene:  Two women of a certain age.

Their order? Two large triple-skimmed flat whites/six sachets ‘Equal’ each.

Demeanour?  One upright, even cocky. One slouched over in despair -  ‘hollowed out’ would not be an exaggeration……

 …….And wearing big dark sunglasses, an eavesdropper’s sure sign of a tears before bedtime calamity if ever there was.

Eavesdropping opportunity rating: *10

*A friend-to-friend emergency consultation.

I am never wrong.

The sad, though from my eavesdropping experience, tragically not uncommon disaster was this.

Ms Tears Before Bedtime has been going out for six months with a gentleman she met on a dating site.

Oh yes, he had been wonderful -  particularly for the first four days……….

….French champagne [and that was just to boil the peas in], huge bouquets of artichoke flowers arriving round the clock and adventurous sex – with Birkenstocks on, can you believe it?!!!!…….

…..And when things really hotted up on day three  – intimacies with desert boots on, can you believe it?!!!! - there emerged thrilling plans for the future.

………Which involved, because he was waiting for a colossal cheque to arrive from Nigeria, fitting out a tinnie and floating up the Murray for as far as the water lasted.

Months passed and thoughts of the romantic tinnie adventure filled Ms Tears Before Bedtime’s days.

THEN, Mr Heart Of Darkness suddenly texted Ms Tears Before Bedtime with alarming news…….it was over…..

And she might [if she's lucky] see him around on a dating site.

I’d like to say I was jolted out of my Sudoku stalemate but that would be a lie.

Like I’ve said, I’ve eavesdropped my way into this awful story many times before.

But Ms Cocky was thankfully right on the case:

”Look sweetheart, I ask you: ‘Why would any man who knows his four times tables and has at least seventy cents in his wallet, need to go onto a dating site……..?’

“I mean with the men shortage, all they have to do is stand outside a shop or near a pedestrian crossing with a sign saying I’M ALIVE AND AVAILABLE  and they could be married by dinner time…….

……..”I really think there’s something not quite right with men who need dating sites under the current market conditions….”

 Well, I had to tie myself to my chair and stuff the Sudoku section in my mouth to stop running over to Ms Cocky and yelling.

‘Right on sis!’

The consultation with Ms Cocky went well.

Ms Tears Before Bedtime is taking her ‘I like men with two eyes, a nose and a mouth’ profile down.

 And even though her grieving for Mr Heart Of Darkness will be torture, torture, torture I hope she’ll be okay.

 The truth is hard but so often simple.

….A fella lurking on today’s bullish fella cyber market is probably a penny dreadful.

***If you liked/hated this story you might like/hate this one:

http://www.kerriejean.com.au/2009/06/welcome-to-degenerate-island/

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So stand by – it’ll shortly be confirmed that women are leaving dating sites in their millions.

Am I right or am I right?

Perhaps you disagree……perhaps you’re a man active on dating sites and you have 15 houses, a top job, 34 million dollars in an interest bearing deposit – and you’re also president of your local branch of Amnesty International.

Would love to hear from you……..I really would.

And, of course, any other reports back from your patch would be very nice to receive.

Throw caution to the wind, join in now……..

Just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo.

Is one just not enough?

Have just returned from my daily unconstitutional with this alarming observation…..

Multiple births are not only de rigueur: they’re the norm…..

And from the number of dual carriageway prams on my main street [being jogged along by 45 kilo 45-year-olds in Olympic cycling team lycra] conception by traditional means, is over.

[........Do you take this man, woman, indeterminate to have and to hold and from this day forth, promise to embark on all the IVF treatments it takes to have at least two children in one go...?]

It wasn’t always like this…..

I am the product of sex and when I was growing up in Leeton, Murray-Darling Basin, the Pacific Rim in the 1960’s, there were many, many children from similar backgrounds.

And everyone knew the couples who ‘could not have children’ because even though they’d been married for more than nine months, they didn’t have any.

People were deeply compassionate towards couples who ‘could not have children’.

And working out just whose fault it was, was very important.

[Cr: Oregon State University Archives: flickr]

….It’s him/it’s a blockage/it’s her/it’s a twisted something/it’s both/it’s a blockage and a twisted something/ it’s God’s will/ there’s no blockage or twisted something……..

No one dared ask the couple who ‘could not have children’ what the problem was…..

That’d be rude……

I liked the couples who ‘could not have children’.

They were always snazzily turned out and could afford to go on P&O Cruises to exotic places on the Pacific Rim.

They were very dignified and even pinched each others’ bums in public.

In restrospect, I wonder how many of them could have children but didn’t want any.

……Perhaps with the prevailing mood, best to let the talk of blockages and twisted things go unchecked.

And for those couples who did want kids but found the quest elusive and did not have access to technologies to change the situation, good on you…..

You moved well through my town……

And try as they will, the Fecundity Police could never catch ya!

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Those of us of a certain age all remember those special couples I speak of, don’t we?

Perhaps you were even part of one of them……

Would love to hear from you…..on this or any other front…….

It’s free, it’s easy……how about you throw caution to the wind – and DO it now by:

Just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo.

I’m bamboozled…….

I awake to a screaming headline in the Sunday Tele:

JULIA….WILL YOU MARRY ME?

Only to immediately find that the source of the headline, Mousse-Man-In-Lodge, Mr Tim Mathieson, ‘is yet to discuss’ his high hopes with our PM.

Well, Mousse-Man-In-Lodge I have only one thing to say to you:

‘Get a grip.’

Because plainly, running around an already feverish Post-Budget nation telling anyone who’ll listen that you have sensational marriage plans while failing to inform your ‘intended’ is at best, unsettling, at worst, downright loopy.

Mr Mousse-Man-In Lodge, you need urgent help.

Never fear though…….

As Ambassador or Honorary Consul or Number One Ticketholder or Celebrity Hairdresser or somesuch for the trailblazing DIY therapy cluster, the Men’s Shed Movement, may I suggest you jump the bus to your old home town and avail yourself to the wisdom of the kind fellas in the Shepparton Shed?

They’ll sort you out.

Within 24 hours they’ll have your Wedlock Un-Deadlocked.

['National Stimulus:Cr: Library of Congress: flickr]

There you’ll be in the cosy Shepparaton Men’s Shed…..making a new bedside table, all under the watchful eye of retired master carpenter, Joseph of Shepparton.

‘Just kept goin’ Mousse-Man-In Lodge….it doesn’t have to perfect……life’s not perfect…..just keep goin’ and keep thinkin’ about what you’re gunna say to ya beautiful lady when ya get home…..’

And Joseph of Shepparton is right.

Soon, a composed and clear-minded Mousse-Man-In-Lodge is home.

In the drawing room, he’s standing next to a handcrafted, roughly hewn bedside table which has been covered with a spare Australian Flag.

In walks Julia.

‘I have something to say to you my [and Australia's] numero ono defacteroo…….’

Julia – rejuvenated from her weekly tussle with Bob Brown – smiles…….

Mousse-Man-In-Lodge whisks the flag off his bedside table……

‘Julia will you marry me and accept this roughly hewn bedside table as a sign of my ardour…..’

‘Yes Tim, I will – and while the little table is by no means perfect – I LOVE it…..’

And that ladies and gentlemen and taxpayers of Australia, is how IT will happen.

Stop Press:

The Sunday Tele followed up its Wedlock/Deadlock scoop with an editorial:

Make your move, Tim:

Tim Mathieson looks like a man who wants to ask the most important question of his life but is anxious about how it will turn out…….

But the signs are good Tim.

As a couple, you seem to have been toying with the idea since your stay at the Shepparaton Men’s Shed [sorry my mistake!] since the Royal Wedding, and Julia has indicated she’s old-fashioned enough to wait to be asked.

So go on, Tim.

Just show her the bedside table (sorry my mistake!)….just ask her.

*****Original screaming headline story:

http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/news/will-you-marry-me-julia/story-e6freuy9-1226055937846

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Gee, relationships are complex……

I’ve never been married but there’s still time. Apparently life on a double pension is much easier than a single one……with the spiralling cost of electricity, bananas and the like.

Anyone out there married?

If you’ve got a poignant (or pathethic) proposal story please proceed to our comments section now……and tell Australia all about it….

And if you think you know the date of the biggest wedding in Australia since Dr Edelsten and the beautiful Brynne, please report in….

By just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo.

By KJ’s Extra Special Election Blogger, Chadwick:

7.30 pm Sat:

This is tragic.

Electoral officers closed their doors on hundreds of beautiful women who attempted to explain their lateness at the poll.

An Electoral Officer said delays at hairdressers was not a legitimate reason for failure to vote under the Electoral Act.

This factor could explain the sudden tip in favour of ‘O’ for Orifice, ‘O’ for O’Farrell party.

‘Not since Marilyn stood on that air vent have we had such a heroine,’ said a Kristina Koo supporter.

She demanded a Royal Commission into the denial of Constitutional rights to latecoming females voters.

‘Perhaps there is a conspiracy in the hairdressing industry,’ she said.

A massive Something in the Hair rally is planned in Belmore Park.

By KJ’s extra special election blogger,  Chadwick:

7 pm: The late Something in the Hair Factor has yet to be considered.

It may not be not known for days.

Some female voters were caught up in a gigantic bottleneck at the salon for so long that they had to lodge postal votes.

The Kristina Kut is the latest craze.

The Julia Jell is not in much demand thanks to the Kristina Kraze.

For some Labor traditionalists bobby pins are back!

Did we see a Dorothy Parker bob at Lakemba?

On the male side, we have noticed a Big Fella Cut at Auburn.

Expect hairdressers to appear on Monday TV.

They know it all, and they are not bound by the confessional.

More soon. 

By KJ’s extra special election blogger,  Chadwick:

As the polls open under a dark and ominous foreboding Sydney sky I wish to make it known that I am confidently predicting a landslide for NSW Labor.
The hidden factor is Kristina’s secret weapon : Something in the Hair.

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I fell in love with Liz when I read (many wrinkles back) that she’d been born with a double set of eyelashes.

Could not believe [was not even willing to entertain the idea] that a gal whom God had already bestowed uber natural gifts – had deemed a double set of eyelashes (lower and upper) wouldn’t go astray……..

[cr: SMU Central Libraries: flickr]

I loved you as a martian may look into Mr Tony Abman’s eyes – and think: who bore you? from what planet doth thou hail? And is thou garb of lycra a gift from the Gods?

Gee Liz, you - like no other - set the moisturising beauty bar sooooo darn high……

I worried about you.

……So smokin’ hot, I feared you’d self-combust, ending up as a mysterious ash ring on the Hollywood Walk Of Fame.

And where did that waist come from?

The prelude to not so much an hour glass but  – I am from a fruit growing district - a ripe, cling peach bursting forth early in the season.

Liz Taylor, you made Grace Kelly look like the girl next door.

And mere mortals?

Somewhere between Morticia and Lurch – on a good day.

Do report in:

Just by clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo.