Tag Archives: evil

The Dark Side Has A Like Button

I have probably had my best day ever for sales, as people were so lovely, and bought my book in droves. Well, maybe a part-drove? How many do you need for a whole drove?

It was bliss – i was number 5 on the Bestselling Scifi & Fantasy list on Smashwords (novels over 25,000 words). I just looked, i still am. This is because eight people bought my book, i didn’t suddenly sell a million – but yep, a real writer now.

Read 20% free

Leer at the lavish cover, and read 20% free (a good way to spend a commute) – go on, you know you want to – click the pic to go to Smashwords. It will open in a new window.

In my parallel role as proxy Antichrist, this kind of global reach obviously helps my case with World Domination. Soon we shall break out the Hello Kitty Kalashnikovs and the glad cries of the oppressed will ring out. Or i may just hold a quiet soiree with friends.

The Antichrist gig came my way after i coshed the real Antichrist met with an Unfortunate Accident. As i’m a much nicer person and won’t infest you with boils and perhaps frogs up your jaxie, it’s in your interests to support my interests. My interests are simple.

I had an email, you see, asking about what i was doing to promote the book. Uh, i said, suddenly remembering that part of the plan hadn’t really been executed, thanks to Elements Beyond Our Control. This was mostly that  – right up to a day or so before the publication of the The Damned Thing – due to illness and various pressures, i was ready to cancel for six months.

So in order to enhance our World Domination Experience™, we decided to join the Dark Side, irrevocably. Yeah, Polo Shawcross has a Facebook account. He doesn’t know how to work it yet, and i have no idea, so excuse us while we try to get savvy.  We are adrift on a sea of social media.

And now for something completely different, some more shameless self promotion….

Polo Shawcross has a ghost who says he’s not one, a best friend who thinks he’s gay, and a very bad reputation. Then he becomes an unwilling party to treason. Nanny Black says he’s like the goddess of death with testicles.

Despite this, he’s considered a fine companion for the heir to the throne. Nobody else seems to have noticed that the Crown Prince is in love with Polo, that the half-brother with the eating disorder is trying to kill him, and of course, Mother’s still  crazy and in denial over Father’s alcoholism. Polo doesn’t know where he fits in, but discovers that shapechanging is harder than it looks. A science fiction fantasy, set on the planet of Galaia in the Sigma Quadrant, where Men might be Dragons. Read more at Smashwords…


If you don’t want to read on your computer but don’t have an ereader, you can get a comfier reading experience with free software for the PC or Mac – it’s rather good, i tried it.

Free Kindle Software for PC

Free Kindle Software for Mac


Sting in the Tail, Polo Shawcross, and Sheila NomNomDePlume are all pen-names and net-names of one person – she secretly rules the world.

Copyright https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com

10 Reasons Not to Follow Me on Twitter

You see a lot of people begging you to follow them on Twitter, so they can get a bigger Follower list. You shouldn’t follow me. Not at all. I can hardly keep up with the Followers i have. I probably won’t follow you back, so don’t do it.

In fact, i bet i can think of ten more reasons why you shouldn’t follow me.

1. I’m not always on a lot every day, but i make up for absences with  a high typing speed. If you’re not following many people, you’ll get a wall of me. “Many” in this case means less than about three hundred very chatty people.

2. I’ll follow you back, then decide oops, you’re not for me after all, and unfollow. Unless you happen to try to Direct Message me (to send a DM, the other person has to be following you back) or use a program like Twitter Karma to show you who’s unfollowed you, you’ll never notice.

3. Sometimes i divest myself of followers in drug-induced frenzies housekeeping binges, by Blocking then Unblocking. This makes them unfollow me too, which i figure is fairer than just unfollowing, as i don’t really want you to follow me on Twitter. Once i did it to about 500 people, so don’t feel special don’t get paranoid.

4. I talk about my writing. A lot. Everyone on my twitter list gets to know the #amwriting hashtag, because i tweet to it usually a couple of times a day. (It’s a writers’ group on Twitter founded by @johannaharness, who’s a very nice person to follow, to find out more, click on link – opens in new window.)

5. I rant. Pretty much all the time. I shout about religion, feminism, humanism, politics, bigotry, getting older, um…  sorry ,what was i saying? Politically, I’m an anarchist monarchist, which means lots of shouting. I get to be queen, and you can do what you like. Unless i’m right there, and bossing you round, but i can’t do that to many people at a time. Not without a sound system.

6. I don’t get jokes, or sarcasm. Call it being blonde, autistic, whatever. Sometimes i do, but i fluff it reasonably often.

7. I’m vain and want you to pay attention to me. At the same time, just when you’re sure i’m the shallowest person on the planet, i’ll disconcertingly pay microscopic attention to you. Usually when you’re being light and flippant.  (See also .6)

8. I am evil, and regular readers will know i’m the ad hoc Antichrist. I have to fill in, seeing the real Antichrist met with an unfortunate accident and is in a coma. *Hides cosh behind back.* It’s nearly time for the Rapture. (see below)

9. Did i mention my book? I call it The Thing, but that’s because it’s a shorter title than than the real one. and i need a short version so i can earbash you about it on Twitter. (Twitter only allows 140 characters.) Not about buying it, that joy is still to come. You get to ride the creative process. Or me wasting time on Twitter when I should be writing. This is actually The Thing Mark II.

10. I’ve already forgotten why i’m doing this. (See 1.) (NOTE: that doesn’t make sense, because 1. was edited, and no longer includes the bit about how dizzy i am… *sighs*)

Despite the above advice, if you want to see what i’m shouting about now, to follow me on Twitter, (remembering that when the Rapture comes, you’ll be one of the ones that God’s Giant Faulty Vacuum Cleaner leaves behind), or perhaps if you’d like to block me in a pre-emptive act of self-defence to save your immortal soul…

it’s ~ @stinginthetail ~

© https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com/

The gingerbread rush is over…

Quiet. I am hiding from The Thing. It’s a book I’m writing. It’s called The Thing for a reason. I’ve been working on it for so long – well, in other forms – since 1995. This Thing is like the distillation of The Things That Came Before.

I’ll go back to it in a minute, but i just wanted to rave to someone, and i mustn’t go into Twitter, except to punt this post, of course, as i’ve had my twitterhit… or whatever it’s called, for today.

Not that i’m ruthless, well, not about time. Time is an illusion. Twitter doubly so. Heh – sorry, hippy moment, it will pass, and we’ll be back to me killing things. Or nailing men’s genitalia to the wall. This blog has a Trophy Room.

So far i have Kyle Sanderson, (an Australian celebrity), and God. Well, not them exactly, but i have their genitalia. With God, i only got the scrotum. Does God seem strange to you lately?

A woman needs a hobby, and i don’t have a pony to ride, so this is it. No, not collecting genitals, that’s just an interest. My hobby is my blog. It’s where i have fun. I’m often surprised when people come back at me with some joke that shows they read my blog. Hardly any of them comment. *looks petulant* I’m allegedly scary. Pfft.

Oh, and speaking of me, my blog stats are pitiful. P.I.T.I.F.U.L. – the Christmas gingerbread rush is over. *cries* Most of my hits are still from people searching for gingerbread, but it’s down to only five gingerbread-househunters a day, from the dizzy pre-Baby Jebus heights of fifty a day.

Now people are looking for sex again. And camel toe, that old staple. Everyone should do a post or two on camel toe, it’s brilliant for accidental Google hits. Penectomy doesn’ t hurt either, i mean, it doesn’t hurt your hits.


In other news: i have a new widget now – a button. *shiny thing moment* Yep, you click on it, put in your email, and an auto-email goes out every time i update. Which won’t be that often. It’s over there, on the left *waves that way*

What? It’s a complete fluke that i’ve done more posts in last couple of weeks than i have in ages. No, no, i’m not going to start blogging more in the New Year. *looks innocent* That would smack of some kind of New Year’s Resolution… and we don’t do those.

Note: okay, so i’m going to try to, but i didn’t decide at New Year.
It was before Christmas.

© https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com/

Happy Birthday to Me

It’s been an interesting couple of weeks, at least virtually. I’ve had to block some people for being idiots on Twitter, not that it shut them up, but at least i didn’t have them on my main page – they were actually threatening to go cut themselves – eek, emo alert!

Unfortunately, the Twitter block function is imperfect. It doesn’t actually sodomise and then peel the person you aim it at. Wait, sodomy is more fun than they deserve… better make it sodomy with a cactus. And we could peel them with… well, this is what the Gleaming Instruments of Death were made for, maybe Twitter should call me.

Despite the fucktards,  i did get a popular blog post (see previous) out of the contretemps. (Popular for me does not mean millions… that one’s topped 200 on the bit.ly links, not best ever, but good.) I know this because I’ve been looking at my stats – world domination proceeds slowly but steadily, with occasional peaks when i get controversial.

Today is my birthday – yep, 49, which is too big a number to think about. Yes, 31st October, Halloween – seriously, what did you expect? Me being the Queen of Darkness wasn’t exactly an accident. Halloween is however, alien to my culture. Trick or treaters will be greeted with “It’s my birthday, where’s my present?” Funny, they all seem to run away when you put them on the spot.

While i’m waiting for the children to arrive, i thought i’d have a slight rant…


Some of the top searches used to find this blog are:

pony, budgie, penectomy porn,  funny cats,  cameltoes and tattoos

It’s like i’ve been saying – Search Engine Optimisation Experts, Gurus, Entrepreneurs, and the rest of the people trying to flog you dead horses on Twitter are way behind me. Yes, not just eunuchs, budgies, camel toe, and tattoos, I’m getting a toehold in the “pony” market.

Hello little girls! Welcome! I was once like you. Longing for a pony of my own. For horses, i could and did get up at five a.m. to feed and groom, i mucked out stables and didn’t mind the heat, the cold, the rain, the smell of manure. I coped when horses bit, kicked, and trod on me.

I lived through them bucking me off, into lakes, rivers, trees, fences, and walls. With being wiped off on anything handy. With them getting over-excited and freaking out on a regular basis. I love horses, so it’s part of it.

It’s not some kind of privation – though of course one gets dusty, muddy, gashed, broken, bent, (this is because leather will imprint as one of your earliest sexual cues), and then thrown off into a prickle patch. It sounds awful, and no fun at all.

However, right now, crippled as i am, if you gave me a horse (and the wherewithal to keep it), i think i’d still happily drag myself out of bed at 5 am. There’s something about horses. I’m the same way with words. The infection lasted. “It’s just a stage she’s going through.” Nah, it was me. Who i am. I’ll always love horses and words. They bring me joy.

No matter how crap life is, just seeing a horse lifts my spirits. I can actually feel better about things if i just imagine being round them. I take myself riding, in my mind. I even feed and groom horses, saddle up, and pick out their feet. The familiar rhythms are all there, in my memories.

I start to write (when i’m not procrastinating, which doesn’t bring me joy, though it can be very productive in regard to getting anything but writing done), and as the words start to flow, i get a similar pleasure.

Some time ago, especially after an incident where in a short time, I had some rather close-to-death experiences, i decided to focus on what brings me joy. It’s not possible to completely avoid that which doesn’t, as i’m unfortunately trapped here on Earth with you humans – but i can certainly wipe out the effects of the dire.

Things like good whole food, being near water, and letting writing be a full time pursuit. I see horses most days, some live on the way to the shops. The food’s tricky, here in the sticks – it was easier to get good meat in suburban London. I used to go to the local Halal (Islamic) butcher when i lived in West Hampstead (though he was over the border in Kilburn). I wonder now if they’re still there. They were nice, even to me, a bare-armed, bare-headed, infidel woman.

Most people are just people, you know. Governments and religious leaders like to focus on the differences between us – divide and rule is their basic policy. Just note how many times they try to make you scared – but frankly, good people come in every colour, religion, and sexuality.

Complete maggots likewise. Of course, most people think their actions are justified. Let’s face it, even Hitler didn’t set out to be evil, he thought he was doing Germany and the world a favour. He thought it was logical. That exterminating human beings was inhumane didn’t matter, because he’d already decided – these were not humans.

Once you dehumanise your enemy, it’s easier for your people to kill them. One of the main problems for soldiers is that in order to keep killing, they have to see the enemy as less than human. We’re not actually designed for murder. With some exceptions.

See, i don’t see the Devil as some kind of external influence – i think we’re all creatures of duality – we’re all capable of both beauty and horror. Which one you manifest, is up to you. If you let yourself be filled up with rage, hate, and insecurity, if your entire life revolves around getting others to pay attention to your attention whoring, then hell, sugar, i’m going to block you on Twitter.

We all have these things inside us – i choose to manifest mine as funny blog posts. Not all of it – there’s a heck of a lot of energy i can use there. The poison others send me can be deflected, returned, or i can use the energy for something constructive, that brings me joy.

So i write. By the way – did you see? Someone found this blog while looking for “funny cats” – oh yeah, baby, i’m into Lolcat territory on Google Search.

Weez gonna be hooj.


In other news: in The Thing i am writing – the hero needed to be older – he was having sex, and i figured 13 was too young. Weirdly, i was basing his history on several people i know, but sometimes, fiction has to be toned down from real life.

I also discovered – once i’d stopped, corrected all references to age, adjusted his language and others’ behaviour to him – that i’d forgotten to note the timing of events in the narrative on a calendar, so i knew for instance, how long it was since his birthday. Then i realised one of the characters had broken the plot, so I’m currently sorting that. Silly bugger died before his time.

There’s a lot to keep track of, lucky i do love spreadsheets. I still refer to my synopses, outlines, and summaries of this first bunch of books, which i drew up using the Snowflake Method. They need tweaking of course, as the narrative changes, but that’s okay, there’s elasticity built in.

Tip: every so often, I save each current document or spreadsheet (if was Book01) as 02, then 03 and so on. This is in case you mess up and need to go back to a previous version. You can also use Word’s version tracker, which saves versions within a single document. In case of accidental deletion of single documents, i like to keep separate copies.

I once inserted an image over an entire document i had no copy of – so yes, i’m paranoid.


On the longer list of searches –

  • why smugglers
  • my house is trying to kill me
  • switchblade and a motorbike
  • realistic mannequins with pubic genital
  • i am not a whore

Why smugglers? I am not a whore? (The others make sense, blog titles or  I’ve blogged on them.)

And SEO experts want you to pay to get listed on Google? Lord above, with the way it works, how can you not be listed? Of course, you may not be listed under what you want to be.

I suppose Beloved Visitors might be miffed, if they arrive looking for penectomy porn and find me instead. On the other hand, thinking about it, the Queen of Darkness, with a bullwhip and a cattleprod, ready to run over you with a tank if you don’t donate to the Hello Kitty Kalashnikov Office Chair Fund, is probably just the woman you’re looking for.

© https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com

Now Contains Added Bacon!

In other news – the Invasion of Queensland ’09™ has become the Invasion of Queensland ’09 ’10™… probably after mid-year. Which is annoying, but these things are sent to try us. And i know by whom.

God better watch out when i get to Heaven, i am going to nail the bastard’s scrotum to the wall. Another year (possibly that long) in New South Wales? Arrggh.

And i had tshirts made!

I go with what's popular

I go with what's popular

Sadly, Queensland is a bit like Jerusalem – warm, infested with terrorists tourists, you should be able to find a Kosher butcher, and it’s been put off until next year. Lack of funds mainly.

Extreme bummer, and ironic – we had an offer of free rent for a few months that would have enabled us to save some money. Ah well, these things happen. If i discern a reason, God’s Holy Hand Grenades get a reprieve.

Meanwhile, i’m trapped in New South Wales. *heavy sigh* And sooner or later someone  – who didn’t like me being critical over the weather or my paddles in the shallow end of the Central Coast gene pool – will recognise me and try to stone me to death.

Probably as i wander lost in The Wilderness (AKA Erina Fair, biggest shopping centre between Sydney and Queensland). It’s tough being the Antichrist.

I’ll just have to take over this state first. I can’t be bothered waiting until we can invade Queensland. So, the revolution begins.

I  suppose if i had a new tank, especially one with air-con, *hint hint* i might be persuaded to pop down, massacre every Sydney celeb that i can find – except those in my Twitter list. I promise by the #cultofmarkpesce (a strange, sweater-loving cult) not to hurt Mark Pesce.

However, Kyle Sandilands will be first to the wall. I reckon that ‘shock jock’ should be rebranded – ideally in the middle of the forehead with a hot iron – how does “famous for being a wanker” sound?


Reading back, i note this is the second blog in a row where i’ve mentioned nailing someone’s genitalia. Though abusing God’s is a new one. I’ll probably find i’m wrong, and “How many of God’s testicles can dance on the head of a pin?” was a common theme for debate in your average Middle Ages monastery. Or nunnery.

Genital abuse could be a theme, or maybe a motif. It could symbolise something. Like me wanting to kill things. I think this is part of being a real writer. “Oooh, ‘ark at her, a motif. Ain’t we la-de-dah?” It’s alright, that was just a voice from inside my head, we don’t pay attention to those.

I could use a staple-gun instead? For Kyle’s boy bits. Would that be more humane? I think i’d enjoy stapling parts of Kyle to a backboard far too much for my own good.

It might be tricky, him being so obviously over-compensating for lack of oomph. (Yes, that is a euphemism, for me being very rude.) Wait, didn’t one of the Hooker Dolls for PrePubescents ® come with her own Professional Dungeon & Dominatrix kit? Or did i dream that?

*sound of whispering*

Aw, shame, because there was a tiny staple-gun in the equipment,
the  perfect size.


I was distracted from such happy thoughts by these figures just to hand. Beloved Visitors can be divided, those whose country of origin can be discerned, and those who can’t. Why do you hide from me, preciouses?

About half of you, i know where you come from. Don’t panic! Only your country, nothing more. I landed on one site yesterday that had a groovy widget that said the latest visitor, (i.e. me), came from  “Budgewoi NSW” and swung the animated globe to where i am and zoomed in.

It was just someone’s blog, but I found myself wanting to hide under the desk and pull the curtains, in case a Google Earth van pulled up outside. Talk about scaring the Beloved Visitors. I don’t want to make anyone nervous like that.

However, I need more. I’m hooked on having minions slaves Beloved Visitors.


There is only one thing for it – i’m going to have to spread my market demographic. We have eunuchs, budgerigar fanciers, those pining for ponies,  toaster sex aficionados, and the occasional lost soul who seems to be looking for me, or possibly God.

I’m trapped in this deity niche, i need to diversify my appeal. No problem, we already have sex, religion, politics, what else is everyone into?


We need more junk food, everyone likes junk food – i need to put in more pies, pizza, beer, and bacon. At the same time, by mentioning low fat, i’ll automatically pull in dieters. Oh, how fickle are search engines.

I found out what a corn dog was the other day – America, your shame is exposed. It’s fat and pigs’ lips, poached in oil. Okay, so technically, it’s a hot dog sausage, encased in corn batter and fried.

Anyway, i need more fat and beer – or at least the blog does. Tea and crumpets are not enough. Marmalade does not feed the man inside. I need some of that cheese that comes in a can in case there are people who don’t get cheese.

I should probably have a sausage sizzle. (No, that’s not a euphemism. Aussie tradition to earn some money, serve cheap eats, outside some shopping centre: sausages and fried onion in bun or bread with sauce.)

Note to self: stop scaring away men by talking about sex. Probably hold off the genital nailing until they get used to the castrations. If i really am serious about spreading my appeal, we need less about me getting the trains to run on time, and more about “Beers for all my friends!”

This blog’s been too low fat, except for the butter on the crumpets. There’s been hardly any booze, and not enough ball games. Unless stapling them counts?

ZOMG! I could staple bacon to Kyle! Woot, pork-on-pork action! “Baybee, we can haz hot secs nao?”

I don’t know who said that, everyone’s saying it was the other guy. I suspect the voices-outside-my-head, because they’re more into puns. I have a better idea.

We could race local wannabe’s like Kyle and his sidekick Jackie O (who makes Paris Hilton look classy), along the Opera House steps. Ooh, we can use Rove, of course.  MacManus and Karl. The Aussie one AND the US one, why not? (Is the US one a cool guy? Cos he doesn’t have to die if you speak up now.)

Celebrity racing, with bacon, uh-huh.
I can see it – nude except for bacon loincloths.

We know what you want...

We know what you want...

The bacon’s just because everyone, no matter what socio-economic bracket, loves bacon. Liberal, Labor, Green, or People Even More Crazy Than Me, out here on the lonely Anarchist Monarchist fringes of polite politics. Me and Al Gore, we both pine to be queen.

Republican or Democrat – even if bacon is your shame – you love it. Bacon’s your guilty secret. And if we staple it to celebrities, sharks will be able to eat them without gagging.

And it occurs to me, i haven’t been instilling enough fear in the populace. I think my new TV show, Shark Versus Wanker, will do the trick.


Message to presenters: you will present the show, not yourself, thanks, or we will staple bacon to you.

A special invited audience will throw rotten meat as you run past, then are cattle-prodded dive jauntily into Sydney Harbour. Oh, how we will laugh as you try to make it to the Heads.

Jackie O would look très cute with a few bits of bacon
stapled to her chihuahua (that’s a euphemism).

the next big game show idea

the next big game show idea "Not Waving, But Sharkbait"

I will be chumming the water with fishguts and cheering on the Sydney Harbour Bull Sharks. These are real sharks, not actually a team, but I think it would be HUGE. Yes, there will be cheerleaders from all the major football teams to chase into the water – for a small fee you even get your own cattleprod.

Before someone gets pedantic, that’s a Great White in the picture – it was taken in a studio, with makeup, and Cedric is just pretending to be a bull shark. Cedric is 8 metres (26 feet) long, and normally prefers colder waters. But for Kyle, he says he’ll make an exception.

And of course, that’s Kyle Sandilands to Cedric’s left, pretending to be a human being. Yes, Kyle’s head IS to scale. Don’t forget, no sentient creatures would be harmed in the making of this new gameshow, and we’d dispose of a pollutant. It’s a win:win.

Of course the celeb’s will be in it – look how much money Michael Jackson and Elvis have made since they became dead for tax reasons. Besides, Kyle will do anything if there’s a media pack there.

Excuse me, i think i follow his agent on Twitter,
i have to run before someone else pitches this.


What’s Toaster Sex? Sex with household appliances.
Gosh, i need to explain? Just remember to hold onto the cord.
And obviously, to unplug it first.

Here, i’ve blogged about it before. I even had Charlton Heston soliciting gay Hummer sex. (Yes, that’s with a car, men always like cars more than something out of the kitchen.)

If you’d like to see more pretty toaster sex pics, try here too.

© https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com

Did i ever pretend to be normal?

The voices outside-my-head have decided to do a post. I’m high enough to not care, and Her Majesty is busy carving her initials in the throne, so they think they can fit a word in edgeways.


I did mention I’m not all here, being part-cat – I was raised by Siamese cats, which of course, means i’m not like normal girls. The nurture-versus-nature debate has no idea what that war does inside my head.

Outside my head, the voices are nice, and never tell me to hurt anyone – quite the opposite, they do a lot of “Stop, that will hurt someone badly for no good reason.” I know you’re just a person like me, no matter that I am convinced i’m the centre of the universe.

However, inside me there’s a Siamese, looking inscrutable and totally Zen, saying “We will play with it before We kill it. Yesss?” In moments of stress, the urge to lash out before anything bad happens sometimes overwhelms me.


i did warn you

I know, i know – i sound quite mad. I have no idea why they wouldn’t give me a certificate of insanity – they laughed and said i was the sanest person they knew. With this mind? What is wrong with psychologists?

Who – in the name of all that’s dusted with pixie dust – do they hang out with? Scientologists? My belief system is way more crazy-than-thou, (and i’m apparently competitive over it), with heaps of contradictions that even i can see.

I’ve reached a point where I don’t care. It works for me. I’m not hurting anyone – quite the opposite. I’m not trying to indoctrinate you, this is My Church, and frankly, my worship is a private thing, my covenant with the gods is my own.


Siamese consider themselves (like every cat, but more so), just visiting from The Wild, while taking advantage of everything humans can offer in way of comfort.

I too hold contradictory notions, my pantheon has no trouble with worshipping Science while i dabble in the Occult, believe in Reincarnation, and some kind of Universal Spirit which might be God or more probably – gods. I also sometimes look at it all from a purely scientific viewpoint – I know that it doesn’t matter.

What do you mean, Deathbringers a funny name for a cat?

Ah, a mortal - greetings - you have brought tribute?

I also quite like the idea of being a deity myself, (seriously, i’m much better at managing the lives of others than i am with my own, like most gods), though cult followers are disconcerting, as i get paranoid when people are behind me.

However, someone saying, hey, i really like what you’re doing, is exactly like injecting happiness, so don’t stop, those who get the urge.

Whatever i believe, i live my life as if it was the last one. It’s what you’re supposed to do. Enjoy it. It doesn’t mean partying crazily every night or fucking as many people as you can, or making as much money as you can – none of those things by themselves bring joy.

Enjoy simply means, have joy with it. To quote Monty Python…

Life’s a piece of shit,
When you look at it.
Life’s a laugh and death’s a joke it’s true.
You’ll see it’s all a show.
Keep ’em laughing as you go.
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.

Always look on the bright side of life.
Always look on the right side of life.

Yes, i’m the Queen of Darkness – of course i enjoy black humour. The voices want to know how we ended up singing Monty Python songs.

Do i need a reason?


Thus endeth the lesson.

© stinginthetail.wordpress.com

The sounds of a switchblade and a motorbike…

You’re going to need a coffee for this post… or your choice of beverage – as we’d say in Australia, a packed lunch and a waterbag. It’s a trifle long. What’s 2,000 words between friends?

After my spate of good deeds in the last post, i continued helping people. The awful last few months, of illness and injury, seem to be fading, and though i’m a bit lacking in stamina, have some use of my body back, and life isn’t half as hard as it has been.

We also had good news about Mr Whatsit yesterday (see In Other News at the end of this post) so i was in a seriously happy-happy-joy-joy kind of mood last night.

I was followed by someone called @Tweetblockerapp on Twitter. It’s a program for Twitter, supposed to help you spot the spammers in your Followers – a great idea. So i Followed back, and logged into their application. It looked very smart.

The page processed, and it showed my followers all listed neatly with grades next to them (A B C etc). Okay, i thought, what’s going on here? There was no Help, so i tried to figure it out. (I’ve been using computers since ’84 and programming since about ’86 – though i gave it up after about 10 yrs – but i do have some skills.)

I had one A+ Follower showing at the top of my list. I assumed that meant he was great, not bad.  (I discovered you can sort the list by Grade, so i do have more A+ Tweeps.) I didn’t recognise him, because they used his Name, not his Twitter Nick – the latter heads his Tweets.

However, by moving mouse over things, i found his Nick – aha, i thought, he’s a spammer, and i blocked him, so rated A+ means they think he’s a super-spammer. There was a Details button. I clicked that, got taken to a page that told me the follower tweeted and engaged with followers, and seemed to be a genuine Tweep. Which was funny.

I’d blocked him only that day, so thought it was understandable he might still be showing up as a follower.   There was no way off the page, so i backed on the browser. Which meant the processing of my 500+ followers all started again.

Once it finished, I looked at the F’s – to find that they were the people  likely to be spammers. Oh. (And discovered the A+ rating person’s page not popping up was a glitch, as now i got a pop-up which i could just close – shame i never got to explain that part to my new follower.)

A browse through the first couple of pages revealed more people who weren’t actually in my followers on Twitter any more . There were some i’d actually blocked for spamming who got a B or C rating, saying they were probably real people and not spammers, so i wasn’t impressed thus far. Same with the D’s – people i knew were real but just new rated badly.

For instance, @AlexanderOlivia is a fake profile, spouting generated gibberish, and then spam about teeth whitening. I had also blocked her some time ago, but she’s showing and getting a D (Grades go A B C D then F) …

  • This is a fairly new user
  • This user does not have a balanced ratio of friends and followers
  • This is an active user

Their ratio of friends to followers is 62 to 762 – so we’re talking extreme inbalance, not just a bit off. I rate at C – only been on since March this year.

I checked my friend @DirkJohnson in CA, who talks, RT’s, is a good Tweep to follow, genuine, and had been on Twitter for exactly a year according to WhenDidYouJoinTwitter – he scored a C and it said…

  • This is a fairly new user
  • This user has a balanced ratio of friends and followers
  • This is an active user

The app listed everyone by their names as i said, (it did show pics, but lots of my friends change theirs every week) and not by their Twitter nicks.

I’m Sheila there, but my Twitter nick is stinginthetail, and if you look for Sheila in the Search function, i don’t show up – or i didn’t last i looked. This is because I cut off the Bastard part of Sheila Bastard so i could be moderately safe for work, which i think upset Twitter Search.)

To explain briefly, while i was an expat in London…  Sheila Bastard is “… a joke, on being Australian –  ’sheila’ means ‘woman’ in Aussie slang, and ‘bastard’ is both an epithet and a term of endearment. So Sheila Bastard I became. Sheila’s a convenient nickname for those who need a first name…”

You can read the whole post that quote is from here. For how i got the nick Queen of Darkness, i gave it to myself accidentally – the full story is here, but the short version is that many vicious bigots claim to be on the side of Light, and i once snapped that if that was Light, i was the Queen of Darkness, and it stuck – i was in a band at the time.

laugh at my jokes, or die

laugh at my jokes, or die

So, meanwhile, i’d messed around with Tweetblocker a bit. Right, i thought, enough. I’ll let them know what i think. It had to be brief, Twitter only gives 140 characters, but i sent several tweets in order to give more info.

I was thinking they’d be thrilled to get such in-depth, thought-out, intelligent feedback from someone who was not a net newbie and could explain her thoughts.

But i was to learn differently….  now remember, unless you were following both of us, looking at my profile page, or searching for him or me, you wouldn’t have seen this, so it’s semi-private.

giving your app a go…. unfortunately it seems to have picked up loads of spammers i’ve already blocked – other probs …

prob when click on details – no way out of page, have to back on browser, which makes it all start processing again…

… and no explanation of what the grades mean or how it works *shrugs* nice idea

and, listing people by their names is useless – i need their twitter nicks, or i don’t know who they are

There, i thought, another good deed done. I was expecting them to take it on board, ask questions about what system i was using, maybe even chat a bit in an email. To my surprise, i got this back…

tweetblockerapp @stinginthetail thx for the feedback. if you have any spare time can you please put 1 consolidated recommendation here: [and they gave a link]

So naturally, i said…

why would i recommend you? i told you i wasn’t impressed – nice idea, but doesn’t work – and where’s the help?

They had a very strange reaction…

tweetblockerapp @stinginthetail nevermind

Ah, but they couldn’t leave it there. I also got a DM (private message)…

tweetblockerapp: it’s not a recommendation. uservoice is place we backlog info like what you gave us. btw..you’re the first person not impressed. cheers

Aside from the atrocious English – “like what you gave us” – i found myself thinking, huh? What do you mean, not a recommendation? Hmm – so why did you say “please put 1 consolidated recommendation here”? I was thinking sheesh, talk about bad tempered app developers. Did i dare to criticise your precious baby? Oh noes!

Would like to say here i often take the time to beta-test for people – they usually LOVE the way i will take time out of my life to give them genuine feedback. I’m also happy to promote them on Twitter and on this blog if i like the program – i’m a good person to have in your corner.

They unfollowed me so i couldn’t reply (oh, so mature), and (i think) blocked me so i couldn’t see their tweets. I thought fine, be like that (i too can be mature!) and blocked them too, just in case they were still showing in my Followers. I  block spammers (or flamers), i don’t want people thinking i am condoning their behaviour or that they might be safe to leave in your Follower list.

We both reckoned without Twitter’s search function, which when i got curious to see if anyone else had actually been negative, showed me this Tweet in the main tweet stream (not sure of exact timing of these posts, they are all marked 11 hrs ago, but this is the order i read them in – the ones above, then this one).

tweetblockerapp @stinginthetail just being honest. we will take any sort of criticism, however, yours was just plain negative. *shrug* look at your bio.

My bio on Twitter? Hmm… “writer, blogger, muso, 48, possibly evil, even the antichrist, see my blog for more”.  Good Lord… so, you’re that gullible eh? *makes sudden move and watches as they all jump* Ha ha!

How simply perfect. *snigger* I can imagine the boys at Tweetblocker…

OMG, she’s the ANTICHRIST! Don’t listen to her. Run! Shut your eyes! Find a fucking crucifix! Quickly! Block her! Before she makes our testicles shrivel!

Or ovaries, if there were any women there panicking too. Of course, the Antichrist would tell you she wasn’t, wouldn’t she? *raises one eyebrow*

laugh at my jokes or die, it's a simple choice

Excuse me while Her Majesty falls off her throne laughing. Soon, my rep will spread – beta versions of software will no longer be offered to me, because nobody wants the Queen of Darkness being mean to them.

Seriously, i was trying to be very constructive – i know from experience that good constructive feedback is worth its weight in gold. You want someone who will find the glitches or bits that don’t make sense and tell you, not someone who says, ooh, lovely.

It’s the same with writing – everyone will tell you how wonderful you are – everyone who likes you personally. “This is fabulous. I adore your writing.” So, how could i make it better – especially seeing it’s been rejected by 23 publishers? “Oh no, it’s great,” they say, “i love it.”

Do you think the characters are well enough developed, you might ask, is the storyline too predictable? And they won’t give an honest answer, even if secretly, they think your characters are made of formica and that your plot has all the surprises of a plot usually contained in an episode of Dharma & Greg. They like you, they don’t want to hurt your feelings.

Go to someone who isn’t emotionally involved, (or is trained to be capable of disengaging) and you can get proper feedback, like, “claiming you are the Antichrist will become a reason for people to stop asking you to try their software.”

When i received the DM, i do confess, I lost it a little on Twitter, and unable to reply  privately, said

honestly, why would you ask for feedback, then say ‘yr the only one who was negative’? great customer relations, fucktards

and a bit later…

beware if tweetblockerapp asks u for opinion- they only want people to say how wonderful they are. They will call u negative & evil. LOL

To someone who’d also said they didn’t rate the program

watch out, don’t be negative about that app, lol, they will send snarky emails saying yr only one who’s ever said it’s not perfect

This was over 12 hours, not all at once, but i’m including it so you get the whole story, and not just carefully-edited highlights. I probably shouldn’t have called them fucktards, that was rude of me, and lowered me to their level. Maybe rude twats would have been better.

I also posted that actually, anyone wanting a good app to sort their followers with should use Dossy’s Twitter Karma, as it actually works. However, because i really am a nice person, here’s a link to Tweetblocker which i still think is a great idea with lots of potential. If you’d like to see if you can follow them on Twitter without incurring app developer spazz attacks, they’re at @tweetblockerapp.

I went back, gave it another go this morning, and naturally, found it easier to navigate the 2nd time around, but unfortunately, i still can’t recommend it – maybe in the next version?

It’s possible that the F rating could be useful if you’re incapable of clicking on a profile and seeing that they’ve never tweeted, have 1000 people they’re following, and only 4 are following them back.

Joy to the world. The bitch is back.

you will respect my authoritay

you will respect my authoritay


In other news (i did add this on the end of last post as an edit, but it deserves repeating) Mr Whatsit’s latest scans reveal problems which will require surgery, but the most recent op site, where he got an artificial disk, is still showing as fine. The disk is stable – there were worries it had shifted, with obvious dangers to his spinal cord with a metal hinge moving around. It’s a huge relief.


I’m actually in a really good mood.
Doesn’t mean i’lll take crap from anyone, though.


NB: post title from “Saturday night’s alright” by Elton John & Bernie Taupin. © 1973 Dick James Music Limited

I was looking at his lyrics in case The Bitch is Back (another of his) had a nice lyric for a title. But i really couldn’t go past…

“A couple of the sounds that i really like,
are the sounds of a switchblade and a motorbike

© stinginthetail.wordpress.com

You never write…

Yeah, i have been thinking of you. It’s just that when i said back in March we wanted to move, i didn’t expect it to take so long. Just deleted the fourth new post i’ve tried to write lately. They didn’t sound right. I’m not a journo, or a paid blogger, forced to churn out copy, and my blog hopefully doesn’t sound like it, but those posts did.

Anyway, back in early May, Mr Whatsit (whilst organising a possible source of moving-house funds, in the form of a forgotten part-year tax refund from 8 years ago) tried to get old paperwork out of a medical insurance company.

Here in Australia, if you don’t have medical insurance when you can afford it, (he was high up in a telecom company then, and could), you get a nasty tax penalty – which would be the whole amount of the refund. So to get his tax back, he has to prove he paid for insurance.

The company was scarily inept on the phone, (they let slip that Mr Whatsit’s ex still has the same postal address, for instance, plus other indiscretions), but they decided to be extra-careful of releasing any info, and said it had to go to legal.

Mr Whatsit was told at least 6-8 weeks, waited patiently, then was ill, so didn’t call back at 8 weeks. When he did call, at 11 weeks, was told, “Why hasn’t this been sent to you? It’s just sitting in the stack.” Nice lady put it in the post, it was here in one working day – by the end of July.

So now we can fill in some forms, and start waiting again. Which is one reason why i’ve not been into blogging. What’s the point? Absolutely nothing is happening.

In case you’re not clued up, it’s the bleak midwinter, southern hemispheric-ally speaking. That is, in the Land of Oz, it’s cold and drear… oh, but the sun is shining today.

And i’m tired of whining about being sick, so can only imagine how you lot feel. The flu is finally starting to let go a bit, but after one major relapse with it, i’m not going to tempt Fate, and say i’m over it.

Unfortunately, Mr Whatsit’s become very ill, and may need spinal surgery – nothing to do with the flu, except that coughing and sneezing may have set the whole thing off.

His doctor is being a prick, refusing to give us a referral back to Mr Whatsit’s neurosurgeon, (who operated where the pain is, so should be consulted), and saying we should wait for A FUCKING YEAR to get into a clinic in pain management up in Newcastle.

He doesn’t need freaking management from some hippy with Certificate II & III in Chronic Pain Management in a year, he needs to see his neurosurgeon NOW, or (without unfortunately, any exaggeration whatsoever), he’ll be on morphine in a week or so and in a fucking wheelchair before fucking Christmas!

Ahem – Mr Whatsit has had around 8 major spinal operations – amateurs do not get near him. Just touching him wrong could cripple him – his spine is fucked.  So we go back to doc, (and the government pays his fucking fee again) and this time, tell him to sign a freaking referral – no more asking nicely – or we will find someone else who will.


I’ve tried to get into some other subjects – fashion, for one – but nothing worked. I nearly got a blog post out of the latest no-eyebrows look, (as seen in Balenciaga & Givenchy collections) but it went blah.

Yes, they look like the Vulcan/Klingon crosses on Star Trek, or maybe emos with Neanderthal tendencies, but I am lacking patience – trying to do a light, funny post on the idiocies of fashion victims wasn’t a good move.

Promoting death for fashion designers who make women look fugly probably isn’t legal. When it comes down to it, though i can still reach Zen, it’s been a rough winter.

So that’s why, though i can happily lock in for hours on my novel or dip for a few minutes in the happy splashfest of Twitter, writing a blog has been so hard.

Sorry, nothing left to be amusing with.


This blog’s never been particularly about my life on a day-to-day level, so it feels weird to be putting this here, but i am honest in these posts. (Hard to tell with the mad parts, but i am.)

But i guess you need to know why i’m not writing.

I’m too fucking worried.


In other news, i may have found the funniest thing ever. Srsly. Extreme sheeps and the men who love them. (That’s a video link, which i don’t do usually, but it’s only just over 2 mins long.) The wonder of what happens when men are left alone with sheep.

Totally safe for ewe to put onscreen at work, and worth watching all the way to the end. I just love it – humans – so amazing.

(I didn’t actually find it – @Froosh posted it on Twitter.)


Oh – and i’m completely undrugged…. which is shocking and accounts for part of my inability to show tolerance and kindness. I did sneak around Twitter doing good deeds and helping people this week. Nothing like a bit of voluntary work to help you forget your own problems.

How does one sneak? I was looking for things, and spotted people I wasn’t following who weren’t following me, asking questions or having problems, and helped them. I know, i know – it’s some kind of weird compulsion. White_wave even said

@stinginthetail OMG You are NOT the Antichrist! You are the first person to offer me honest-to-god roadside help that isn’t more exploitation!
3:55 PM Jul 26th
from web in reply to stinginthetail

That was so sweet. Sprung! Yes, we have become co-Tweeple.


Well, i’m drug-free except the prescription ones that keep me alive – the mould in the house doesn’t agree with my heart, apparently, along with putting my body into a permanent state of extreme allergic reaction.

Straight sucks. How do people live like this?

The voices outside-my-head say we can endure.

So, we endure.

EDIT : some good news, the latest scans today (28th July 09) show Mr Whatsit’s spine is crap, but where he has the artificial disk (a piece of metal nestling rather close to his spinal cord) is apparently all fine. This is an incredible relief, as if it went wrong, a fused neck would be a good outcome, and a bad one was quadriplegia. He may still need surgery, but having been through 4 fusions and a disk replacement, pfft – this is something we can deal with.

NOTE: in case anyone thinks my drugfree state is me coming off some hard drugs, it’s not – i just have no painkillers – otherwise known as marijuana. Without it i have to rely on pharmaceutical painkillers – which don’t actually work half as well and are poisonous to my body –  for my own rather fucked up back.

© stinginthetail.wordpress.com

With zombies, u need to blow their heads off…

I wrote a cranky post about how Michael Jackson’s death circus was sickening me. I was wondering if, when Gary Glitter or OJ die, everyone was going to prance around saying things like…

“Aw, his mommy/daddy was mean/abusive/over-pushy to him, let’s forget about the nasty (a) child sex (b)  murders (c) the armed robbery that finally sent the SOB to gaol (d) moments when he bought his his way out of a court case.”

But it was too cranky. And might have got me sued, lol. Yes, this is the cleaned up version. What do you mean, you can’t tell? Feck, i’m on drugs, i’ll say that in my defence.

With the original post, by then, the drugs had kicked in, and i was no longer in quite such an evil mood. The Queen of Darkness had been in total control. Pain does awful things to my empathy chip.

Small children start to self-combust around me. It’s scenic, and looks great through the filter of the drugs i’m on, but people talk. Next thing i’m being shunned at the pharmacy like when i ran over those pensioners in my tank.

When the drugs kick in, the voices-outside-my-head – the compassionate, nice ones – take over, and I can even feel sorry for the freak and his still-travelling freakshow.

This is me, biting my tongue. And on enough drugs to no longer care. Seriously. This is someone else, who didn’t and wasn’t. But of course, they have a legal department, and besides, they’re part of the Murdoch Empire, so they end up in the category of Satan’s Minions and it’s quite alright if you want to go hate them.

You can hate me too if you like, but it won’t do any good either, i don’t like Michael Jackson – i didn’t when he was alive, and i’m not going to be a mealy-mouthed hypocrite and start acting like he was some kind of wonderful person.

I quite agreed with the article, but then i’m a monarchist anarchist, which is simultaneously so left wing and so right wing, that I sort of meet myself out the back somewhere, but in an attractive way – which is why you really need to vote for me as Queen of Darkness.

As the writer so eloquently points out – in regard to Michael Jackson – playing the victim doesn’t entitle you to abuse others.

(Look, i’m being nice, and paraphrasing things so you don’t have to go looking at links unless you want to. Yep, am completely wasted.)


When i take a break during the day, (from the epic sci fi fantasy thing, which keeps morphing, so i won’t say any more than that, as already i don’t think it’s going to be a rite-de-passage story any more), my main source of amusement is Twitter.

It’s many other things as well as a laugh, including friendship, the opportunity to help others, (shh, i have these urges, i can’t help it – oh damn, now i’ve told you i have to kill you), and to both teach and learn – oh, and to make a right royal arse of myself, when i forget how many hyper-intelligent people are actually paying attention.

I like everyone in my list, or they wouldn’t be there. Some, i love to bits. A favourite tweep (or whatever the singular form of tweeple is), is @_SATAN_ . He’s playing the role so well, i find myself wanting to actually applaud.

_SATAN_ is in Australia, of course, because even the Kingdom of Darkness appreciates booze, sport, sunshine, and a social security safety net that includes healthcare. He’s in Victoria i believe, but @__God_ is in South Australia.

Which possibly explains __God_’s drinking problem, there are a lot of vineyards there. He seems to be falling apart lately.

__God_ Really people, who here hasn’t shat themselves after a few snifters? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.

Turned out he was coming out as a sharter in a fabulous rant (over several more tweets) in support of a footballer who literally mistook a hotel corridor for a toilet.  __God_ only knows if he’s going to make it through the footy season. I mentioned that sharting was a sign of alcoholism.

(In the following examples, for those not familiar with Twitter, an @ sign means the post is directed to the person after the @.)

_God_ @stinginthetail daily binge drinker is the preferred terminology, thankyou

__God_ Poached salmon and bok choy in ginger broth. White tea. Someone please kill me now. I NEED SATURATED FAT AND ALCOHOL!!!

We may need to get _SATAN_ to do an intervention. Mind you, he’s  more likely to say something like this.

@_SATAN_ Who was it that said ‘everything in moderation?’ Ha! Moderation is for wimps and losers. You’re not a loser, now, are you?

He makes it all seem sensible. His conversations with other people are the most fascinating things, and it’s well worth following threads. _SATAN_  wouldn’t be the Bad Boy of Hell without Tweets like…

@_SATAN_ Now, if your girlfriend is being too demanding, why don’t you glass her? It’s the only way she’ll learn, dears..

Glassing – for those not familiar with the term – means smashing a glass in someone’s face. Yes, it’s horrible – he’s _SATAN_.

And in the Aussie news, another footballer was gaoled for eight months with good behaviour, after he glassed his girlfriend in the eye during an argument, then lied and said she’d fallen, changed his story and tried to blame it on his best mate, and then tried to argue that it wasn’t that bad because the doctors managed to sew her back together neatly.

Here in Australia, if there’s evidence of an assault, you don’t need a complainant to charge someone. (Oh yeah, _SATAN_ would be proud, she’s still with him.) It’s Australia in the winter – of course __God_ and _SATAN_ are football fans. They both get great replies...

ScotPThomas @_SATAN_ “Glass her”, o dark lord? Is there a recommended technique that I should use or should I just be creative?

And this…

Espimufin @_SATAN_ what if she’s not my girlfriend? can I glass her anyway?

I ended up following both those guys, they seem promising. (Erm, yes, they were being funny, i read their other tweets.) _SATAN_ and I had a nice conversation about sex toys and masturbation.

He’s preaching to the choir here. Of course, i’m not the only one with a Dark Kingdom passport…

ScotPThomas @_SATAN_ so how hard would it be, to like get in the top of the armies of hell? I mean, I’m already a member of the media. Good enough?

As _SATAN_ says…

_SATAN_ The Stones say “you can’t always get what you want”…well, I’m here to tell you that you can. All you need is a semi-automatic…

Well what have i been telling you? Yes, a man after my own heart. And yes, it does seem, as the lovely Tweet_Fail reminded me, when i said he was worth a follow…

Tweet_Fail @stinginthetail Nepotism: The AntiChrist and Queen of Darkness recommending @_Satan_ – Nice!

However, I’m the only one with badges.

to visit the site, click on badge.

badge designed by me at http://www.says-it.com/

© stinginthetail.wordpress.com

Culling is too good for them…

It is possibly a sign of me getting more evil with age. However, i am smugly happy as the neighbour who cut down the trees in the park loses fifty feet of grassland and gains a reflecting pond that extends into his back yard. Over his property boundary, imagine that.

I try not to be too smugly happy, as smugness begets fucktarditis. Besides, it’s only just winter, the flooding isn’t bad yet. The ponds are only just filled, the driveways that spend most of the colder months under water are still only puddled. We’re watching with interest to see how bad the flooding gets, whilst hoping we don’t go under too. Sorta “we iz up yr hill, smirking at yr fludwaterz”.

The neighbour who cut down the trees, he’s got some serious flooding going on, thanks to he and the neighbour on the other side removing plants and trees in the park, and cutting the grass to bowling green lengths. That is, too short for a water meadow. This used to be a swamp, you see. They cut a few drains, but the shore has seasonal ponds and flooding.

The more trees, and grass let to grow a decent height, and natural marginal plants that do well in the brackish soil that edges the lake, the less flooding. So the stupid go under, because they want a nice line between their property and the lake, and weed out even full size trees that they consider ‘spoil’ their views.

Unfortunately, this place literally is a swamp, so one must expect seasonal changes with the water table. On the bright side, our bit of it is so windy, we hardly have any problem with mosquitoes.

Argh, just remembered, am going back to Queensland, land of the bugs that bite you. They have this thing referred to disparagingly as the midgie. It’s like a smaller version of a mosquito, they say.

Then you see the first angry red lump with blue lines leading from it, and stare, and your trusty native guide will tell you, “Midgie bite.” Like it’s nothing. They last for weeks, by the way, painful, itchy, and purple-red.

Naturally, being Queen of Darkness, in this topsy-turvy world, i have a natural concoction that keeps both those and the most evil mosquitoes away. I’m susceptible to mozzies – they love  my blood. My first six weeks in Queensland were a frantic search for something that would enable me to go outside without having to wear a mosquito net after dark.

I knew i was on the right track on a beautiful night in the sadly swampy Tweed basin, up on the NSW/Qld border, where i was outside, covered in my patent unguent, and not being bitten, while the mozzies went to the next victim in the chain.

Yes, i thought, victory is mine. Meanwhile, my friend was squealing as she got bitten and we all had to rush inside for her sake. So the moral probably is, it’s good to share the mosquito repellent. Yeah, and it’s just stupid to impose your artificial idea of ‘lakeside living’ on a nature reserve.

The book? It’s going well. This is me smiling in real life, because it is, and i’m not lying, saying “Yeah, great, well, i’m not doing great right now, but i have been, and the block’s are always only temporary…” Anyway, i’m not saying that, i’m just happy with how it’s shaping. And i want to get back to it now.

I just wanted to share my smugness… I’ll be enjoying it while i can. Yeah, before the floodwaters reach our place. These are tidal lakes, and we’re expecting king tides around the end of the first week of June. Lots of rain forecast, hoorah!

Yes, i know where my ark is – here at the Blog of Doom we believe in being prepared since that time we were caught completely unprepared, and discovered the state government was too. I’m sending Mr Whatsit out later, to stock up on chocolate to eat, and kitchen paper towel, to stuff in the leaky places.

Happy winter.

P.S. Mr Whatsit just saw some boys on pushbikes, none older than fifteen, try to break into the house across the road. He noticed them because they were making so much noise, he went to the front door. Six kids hanging out in at the front of the empty house were standing out a little.

To his surprise, they were trying to break in. He went out, yelled oi at them, and get this – they said, this isn’t your place. Well, no, it’s not, local fucktard child, but we’ll still stand up and say oi. Broad daylight. *shakes head*

The police were called, which was relayed across the road by Mr Whatsit calling it. The children seemed shocked at this interference by a neighbour who not only, they pointed out, didn’t own the house, but didn’t live there, and had no right to complain.

They were shouting this across the road as one continued to try to break in through the garage, in full view of and no more than ten feet away from the street. (About 3m.) No less than twenty or so houses could see what they were doing, including people out in their yard two houses away, and a real estate agent arriving to inspect the flood damage at the stupid people’s house. Mind you, nobody else said oi.

After some argument among themselves, (seriously, it was earnest, and audible from our place), the boys stopped trying to gain access over the side fence, or to lever the garage door open, and took off, jeering at Mr Whatsit, loud enough for the police on the line to hear.

Instead of heading for the nearest corner, not far away, they rode off up the hill, giving Mr Whatsit time to describe them all and their bikes to the cops.

Local fucktards in their natural habitat – on bmx bikes. Not one was over fifteen. I’m beginning to think retroactive abortion isn’t such a bad idea.

© stinginthetail.wordpress.com