crazybrave

contributin’ to the memesphere:

(And here’s the source of this genius incarnation of cats+intertubes hilarity, via Rob at LP)

VERY EXCITING UPDATE: ZOE AND AMPERSAND DUCK GO NUTS STOP CREATE FLICKR GROUP “TEXT ON UR CAT” STOP ALL CAN JOIN IN STOP SLIDESHOW HERE STOP

Imagine you’re doing a preggersaurus fitball class at the hospital where you’re booked in to have your baby. Imagine it’s the first class you’ve been to.

Imagine yourself on your knees, minding your own business, elbows resting on your fitball and doing your pelvic floor exercises.

Imagine you have no particular desire to make eye contact with anyone else engaged in their pelvic floor exercises.

Imagine what your eyes might light on instead.

And you can check out his myspace page, too.

God bless Lucy Tartan and the intertubes.

The bus driver says “Not your bag love?” as I climb the steps. There’s a bulging green shopping bag behind the bus stop seat. I tell him I think it must belong to one of those terrorists. He looks at me funny. I watch him to see if he’s calling up the hotline.

A freshly lit cigarette smells fantastic to me, but the man behind me on the bus smells vilely of old ashtrays. I have to stop reading my Helen Garner book because he’s making me queasy, just when it was getting really exciting.

I walk past the ex-junkies outside the methadone clinic. One, just arriving, is complimented on how well he looks. He does, and he smiles and thanks the other guy before going up the stairs behind the blank door. Good on them both.

The slim assistant in the patisserie tells me she has started the Atkins Diet today. I tell her she is an idiot. She has dark honey coloured skin – really, it’s honey coloured – and green eyes. She speaks in French to the squat lady who runs the joint. She thinks bread is fine, but alcohol is tehibol. She stares at my swollen stomach as she says “Au revoir, madame!” I guess six months pregnant makes you a “madame”.

There’s a nearly toothless man in the middle of the pedestrian crossing. He’s not old, though. He starts talking to a woman with long dark loose hair and white clothes in front of me. Imagine being able to wear white clothes to work! The man’s angry because the cars he’s daring to run him over won’t do him the fucken favour.

I look at the big cranes and count six concrete trucks. Just up the hill and along the path now. I look in through the gap in the fence and see the crane’s wheels are off the ground and it’s balanced on little poles. I know they have a name, but I can’t remember that bit of my son’s excavator book. I drift off during the excavator book, but my voice is still expressive and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t notice. I think I would prefer it if the wheels were on the ground.

“It’s not plausible, it’s not based on anything other than a house-to-house survey,” Mr Howard said.

From the front page of today’s Canberra Times, “Iraq toll study ‘exaggerated’ ” which (really unbelievably this time) is not online.

Hi

I see you’ve become very interested in my site lately. Just so’s you know, I am a mylf, and have no need of milf sites myself. Also, you with the baby peeing pictures – no thanks.

Cheers

Zoe

Not a staged photo.

Owy is a Virgo, btw.

Heh.

(I’ve closed comments on this post as a “late” comment somehow acts as spambait. If you want to comment email zoe at crazybrave dot net and I’ll post it.)