Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Warwick Capper topless? WHY??

Things have been a mite stressful these past few weeks, so it has been a while since I've ventured to StatCounter to see how people were finding me. Above and beyond the regular number of the usual visitors and blog explosion cruisers was this - Warwick Capper Topless. It had been entered in many, many times and inexplicably, kept leading to this 'ere blog. I have no idea why* - I've never featured him, let alone mentioned him being topless and I'd prefer to keep it that way.

Still scratching my head and leaving Adam the electrician scratching his over why our sensor lights refused to turn on at night or blazed on all at once during the day and sometimes also started up the loo fan, I left him being silently stared at by Milly and Skipper and collected the mail. Yes, my fortieth birthday looming like a dried white dog turd on the footpath of my horizon on the 3rd of November, but I really didn't need a specifically addressed piece of junk mail from Laubman and Pank informing me, "It's now TIME for you, Katherine Lockett, to get your eyes checked. Ageing rapidly causes the eyes to deteriorate." Happy Birthday to me.....

Farewelling Adam, I again sat at the laptop. As with most writers, I'm constantly expecting rejection but to get nothing, not even an acknowledgement is really frustrating, especially when the editor's PA has given you their address to send stuff to and you've been talked up to said editor by someone with a bit of clout. I re-read some work I was particularly proud of and noted, with a sinking stomach, that I'd actually written Sunday Fail instead of Sunday Mail. That might explain the lack of contact then.

After power-walking my red-faced embarassment into scarlet-faced sweat on the treadie to nowhere, I showered, ate and felt much better. The sun was shining and the scent of the roses in full bloom on the way to the school were particularly lovely. I'm one of those dags who actually does stop and sniff roses.

Picking up Sapphire from school and sucking on an iceblock with her in the backyard is always part of the day I look forward to. We tell each other funny stories; ooh and aah over how cute the dog and rabbit are and invariably do our own peculiar version of arts and crafts - today it was Sapphire crocheting a bird's nest (long story) and me doing a very bad job of mending an old black chemise she wants to wear as a witch costume. Life was pretty nice and it would do me a helluva lot of good to keep remembering it.

Later on, as I was back on the net looking at Melbourne houses for sale, she was in her room doing guitar practice. After the usual scales and songs set by her music teacher, down the hall wafted, 'I was made for loving you baby, you were made for loving me....' KISS. On recorder, self taught. By a nine year old. In 2008.

She eventually popped out for a cold milk and milo and to ask me a question. "What's pole dancing, Mum?" An answer - despite not being approved of - was at least provided, but no solution was available to her next question: "Mum, where can I find a skeleton of a kangaroo?"

After dinner - a hastily prepared frittata courtesy of our chooks Hermoine, Luna and Ginny and with fresh herbs from our vege patch - I sat down to watch the news. To be honest, I don't watch the news, I'm really only interested in the weather forecast which appears in the last two minutes. Inexplicably and with monotonous regularity however, I end up paying attention to the boring blather on ore stocks and FTSes and when the actual weather segment is on, I vague out and miss the entire segment.

"So is it going to be hot tomorrow Mum?"
"I dunno love."
"But you just sat there and watched it!"

Perhaps I just need a block of Toblerone for my birthday. This one in particular - four kilograms for the bargain price of $149. I can't believe that my local, humble K-Mart has two.

* Perhaps even more distressing was that the search topics 'Lengthy Labias' and 'Bonnie Tyler's dog' also led here.


franzy said...

My favourite from recent times is: "what's wrong with a 100 dollar mattress?"

Baino said...

So what is Pole dancing and are national costumes involved? Chin up Plugger adopt my Pantene Philosophy and things will seem brigher. Forty is a doddle, you get a big party and people are really sweet and tell you that you look not a day over 35 and it's still 'respectable' to get pissed and be mutton dressed up as lamg Fifty's the time the complements stop and the twin sets come out!

squib said...

I have that exact same problem Kath! No, not turning 40. hee hee. They spend 5 mins doing the weather and don't tell you the actual forecast til the last few seconds. I zone out and always miss it

lol about Sunday Fail. I did something like that recently. Sent off a short story which I'd gone through with a fine tooth comb about a dozen times. Big Squib asked to read it and about 5 secs later she announced a horrible typo on the first page

Lidian said...

I am going to be turning 46 pretty soon so 40 sounds young and fab to me - and incidentally you truly don't look almost 40 (whatever that means, but you know what I mean)

I like that photo a lot, though it does bring back memories of the annual ant party at the end of our front walk (which I end by applying dish soap in a festive yet stern manner)

delamare said...

Hey - I turn 47 the day before you turn 40! How's that for scary!! For ages, I felt very smug about my excellent eyesight, but I finally had to start wearing reading glasses this year. And I've been zoning out and missing the weather for years, long before I turned 40.

Does that make me an early adopter, or a late adopter?

PS the word verification for this message is 'phypta' which must be an onomatopoeia for something...

eleanor bloom said...

Man, I always tune out for the weather too. Drives me nuts. I think it's cause they blather on for ages about stuff I don't need to know, like barometric pressure and swell size and wind warnings for somewhere else in the state... and then only have a millisecond at the very end for the next day's weather in the city! Just tell us first!!! It's like the bloody supermarkets putting the milk all the way at the back of the store just so you'll go past a whole lot of stuff you don't need. (Well, kinda like it...)

And if we're talking word verification, mine's 'hosenge'. WA's already going to have our own stonehenge, so I'm guessing this could describe that nutter having some neighbour who wishes to compete with his own version made out of recycled hoses. ...Or a lot of sluts standing around. (insert needed apostrophes)

River said...

So is that "aging rapidly" causes the eyesight to deteriorate, OR aging "rapidly causes" the eyesight to deteriorate?

40 is nothing. You only look like 33 anyway.
Baino? I'm well past 50 and there's not a twinset insight........

JahTeh said...

Rapidly ageing eyesight means the left eye is fixed on the Toblerone while the right eye is mistakenly seeing the price as $1.49. For a moment I thought I'd died and gone to Heaven.

Warwick Capper topless churns my stomach just thinking about it.

Miles McClagan said...

I'm being media monitored by a certain company that is relaunching, and I was also media monitored by the Tasmanian AFL media research centre, and nothing disturbs me quite like the person who found my blog looking for Somalian Short Stories...

Catherine said...

Sunday Fail...Freudian slip perhaps?
Warwick Capper topless - funny you should say that, as today I unfortunately stumbled on some topless pics of Warwick on news.com.au today! Standing on a balcony with some very classy ladies flashing the top and bottom bits.

Kath Lockett said...

Franzy I'd love to see a blog from you re the search topics that lead to your venerable site!

Baino - Pole Dancing *can* involve national costumes as long as the wearer is prepared to remove them during the dance.

Hey Squib - maybe you and I could set up a WA/SA/Vic editing and proof reading service - to be done during the weather segment.

Thanks Lidian - the apple and ants just reminded me of myself - lots on, lots to think about and not a lot I can do about it right now.

Delamere that's just spooky. Spooky I tell you!

River you are lovely. And very kind. And clearly need to get a refresher eyesight test.

Eleanor, you build a HoSenge and the world will come. Seriously.

Sorry Jahteh. Maybe that argument will work in court or with the security bloke though.

Miles, you must write a Somalian short story - somehow based in Penguin, Tas or in Scotland. It will sell millions. Or, if not, Eleanor can have copies available in the Hohenge gift shop....

'accidentally stumbled' upon a topless Warwick, eh Catherine? So underneath all this elegant and refined interior design is really a yearning for the Capster, hmmm?