Conversations with my brain: Tarsiers on crack

Honestly Orificer I had no idea someone had spiked my cicada with crack.
Image by Mike Belleme

Me:        "Tarsiers are SO CUTE."

Brain:     "They look like they're on speed. Or crack. Or like someone is shoving something unpleasant up a delicate orifice that only the most intimate and trusted of Tarsier partners would normally see."

Me:        "They do look a bit surprised."

Brain:     "I'm not surprised they look surprised. You'd be surprised too."

Me:        "Tarsiers are gorgeous little carnivorous primates. They eat insects mainly but also birds, snakes etc. They're nocturnal."

Brain:     "If I looked like a mouse on PCP who had just received an unexpected anal incumberance I'd only come out in public at night too."

Me:        sigh

Brain:     "What?"

Me:        "I'm trying to educate us here and all you can do is bring it down to... arse jokes."

Brain:     "Yes."

Me:        "Why? Why do you have to do that?"

Brain:     "Because that's why you keep me around. And also because: arse."

Me:        "Actually I keep you around because it’d be inconvenient if you weren’t here. What with all that keeping me alive, making sure I breathe and don’t die stuff. And that was an utterly crap answer."

Brain:     "My job here is done."

Me:        "Did you know that each of the Tarsier's eyes are as big as its brain? What would you do if it was the same for us?"

Brain:     "I'd tell you to stay indoors during the day like the Tarsier does."

Me:        "Oh, ARSEBISCUITS!"

Brain:     "Arsebiscuits the unexpectedly rear-ended Tarsier on drugs. Nice."

Me:        Slams head down on desk.

Brain:     "Ouch."

ERMAHGERD! A tiny carnivorous primate!
Image from here.



Do you and your brain get along?

P.S. If you want to learn about Tarsiers, go here for some more serious information...

Buy Kerri Sackville! (and feed an orphan)

Ever wanted Kerri Sackville?

OF COURSE YOU HAVE!

And now you can have her.*

Well you can have two of her books anyway, personally signed by her own fair hand INCLUDING A PERSONALISED MESSAGE. Yes, I'll even post them overseas!

These are the books:

Actually it's the uber exotic UK printing which has a different cover.
But the insides are the same. 
You just have to promise to read it in a posh British accent.

See above. Same deal. 
This time though you have to read it in an authentic 
Arfa Daley Eastenders-style Cockney accent. Awright guv?

You can find the talented Kerri herself here.

All you have to do to get these snazbig items sent to you via Express Post is to hand over your hard-earned moolah.

But it's not quite that simple!

Did you know that Cate Bolt saves the lives of orphans and the elderly every day in Indonesia?

Seriously. Amazing. Shit.

She set up and runs Foundation 18 without any help. The orphanage is funded through donations and through the foundation's Etsy shop.

Unfortunately Cate is unwell at the moment and this means that she can't be as active in fundraising as she normally would be.

So now you have a chance to bid to get your hands on a copy of each of Kerri's terrific books - along with KERRI's autograph. All proceeds will be donated to Foundation 18's efforts supporting orphans and the elderly in Indonesia.

A big smoochy snoggy thank you to the gorgeous Kerri Sackville for agreeing to sign her life away be part of this event.

How to bid

1. Bidding for each book starts at $20, which is approximately RRP. So now we get to find out how much Kerri Sackville's autograph is really worth!
2. To bid, send me an email here with your name, which book you're bidding on, and the highest amount you're prepared to pay. YOU ONLY GET TO BID ONCE per book so make it count!
3. Yes you can bid on both books at once.
4. No you don't have to bid on both. If not bidding on both please specify which book you want.
5. That's it.

Bidding starts as soon as this blog post appears and finishes at midnight on Tuesday 20 November.

If you win, you get the book, including a personalised message and autograph from the author herself.

Here's the fine print:

• It would be really helpful if you had a PayPal account (if you don't, and you REALLY want to bid, talk to me, we will work it out).
• Highest bidder for each book will be notified by Sunday 2 December.
• The book(s) will be posted to you after payment has been received.
• Your name and details will be announced on this blog after the auction has finished (unless you want to be anonymous).
• Bidding is silent and will run on an honour system. If you bid but don't pay, I will hunt you down. (Actually, you'll just be disqualified and the next highest bidder will get the book).
• Nobody associated with Five Frogs Blog will make a cent out of the auction. All proceeds will go to Foundation 18.

Those links again:

• Want some groovy stuff? Go to the Foundation 18 Etsy Shop.
• Want to donate directly? Go here to the Foundation 18 website.

What are you waiting for?

GET BIDDING!

SANTA WILL BRING YOU GREAT STUFF IF YOU DO**

*Not really. Well maybe you can but you need to contact her directly for that. I'll pimp her signature for charity but... umm... you know. Even sweary frogs have limits. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'll shut up now.

**This may be a lie. I don't know Santa personally. But I can guarantee at least one of you will get A GREAT BOOK BY KERRI SACKVILLE.

UPDATED: Congratulations to Mark F from New York for his winning bid. $150 has now been donated.

Thanks everyone for bidding and spreading the word. Special thanks to gorgeous Kerri for playing along.

Don't forget you can still donate using the links above!

I believe in fairies (and Royal Commissions)

I believe in fairies.

I want you to believe in fairies, so I want to employ a large group of men to tell you why you should believe in fairies too.

If you don't believe in fairies, I'll judge you and attack your lack of fairy belief. I can do that, because I believe in fairies.

Don't attack my belief in fairies though. That's not on. That's oppression.

Countries will go to war over whether fairies are real, or unicorns are real. Many millions will die.

I want others who believe in fairies to allow my employees unrestricted access to their children. When this goes horribly wrong, I'll make sure my employees avoid the law, because my organisation will be bigger and more important than justice. My organisation will provide a hotline to the Big Fairy In The Sky. So I can close my heart to the screams and crying of those kids. Because I believe in fairies.

I want to run an organisation that doesn't have to report crimes and pays no tax. And when my organisation gets into trouble, I'm going to bleat that all the OTHER people are doing things wrong and THEY should be getting into trouble TOO. So there, nyerrrr. Because I believe in fairies.

What? I can't create an organisation based on a fairy tale and then expect to be above both criminal and taxation law?

Damn. Looks like I believe in the wrong fairies.

Do you believe in Royal Commissions?

The Zone of Repugnance - you're soaking in it

I really love youse giiiizzzze. Yes, I'm talking to you. My loyal and varied readers. This is a small lily pad that hasn't been floating long, doesn't have that many of you but WOW what great folk you are. I have a rowdy, sweary, (frequently) ovary-carrying (if not using) community on here. You comment regularly, engage on Twitter and Facebook and you spread the good word about the bad frog.

FUCKPANTS! You are all SNAZBIG.

But I'm curious.

What do you get from this lily pad?

After all, it's brought you this:

And this:

And a bit of this:

It also had to audacity to throw this at you:

Note: These spectacular boobs are not mine.
(More's the pity)

With a side-order of this:

And then there was nasal tufftage bloopers:

There's a concept in natural sciences called the Zone of Repugnance. This is the area in and immediately around a grazing animal's faeces.

YES! I'm talking shit again.

And toilets, officially, since a horse's bog is sometimes... a bog. More often a field or paddock.

Stay with me.

Animals won't eat in that zone. Yes, a horse is often seen stepping on tippy-hoof around a pile of its own dung to avoid accidentally eating any of it.

You haven't seen that? You need to hang around paddocks more.

There is ONE organism, though, that positively thrives in the Zone of Repugnance.

There's a saprobe fungus that grows really quickly in horse manure. That's the only place it grows. It doesn't mind that it gets shit thrown at it, or that its environment is a bit smelly and often questionable. It loves that shit. 
Literally.

Still with me?

While other less courageous readers are carefully grazing around the edges of the Blogosphere, you giiiiiiiizzzzze are my saprobe fungus, living in my blog's Zone of Repugnance. You thrive on the stuff I throw out there and I LOVE YOU FOR IT.

And now, assuming I haven't scared you all away by calling you all shit-eating fungi...

Why do you read my blog?

No, really.

I neeeeeed to knoooooooow!

This shit only happens to me - WTF Wednesday #2

Yesterday was full of YAY and FFS moments in a nauseating, emotionally blendering roller coaster. Yes I know blendering is an abuse of the verbing trend. Yes I know verbing isn't a word. Shut up.

It's been that kind of month. It's left me repeatedly thinking "why the hell do these things only happen to me?!"

It was the fuck-up that alerted her

I anonymously messaged an old mate. I accidentally included an @ and then sent "oops". She didn't know who it was sending her random crap until she read oops. The fuck up immediately made her think of me. So my fuck-ups should be listed in my police file under "Identifying Features". If I had a police file. Which I don't. I don't think. Do I? Shit. WTF?

The one where a bird landed on my head in public

I'm walking along a major city street when I suddenly feel two tiny claws on the top of my head. Not scratching. Just... standing... I had time to say "what the f-" and the claws disappeared.

I notice one of these guys fluttering, confused, near me against a window.

Image

Yes, a bird did just land on my head. Not swooping or attacking just... resting? WTF?

The free reptile I got from attending Problogger Training Event 2012

What? You didn't get yours?

I found one of these guys in my Problogger bag.

Image from here

I thought it was a toy until I touched it. He'd lost his tail in fright after the cat chased him and hidden in the bag that had been sitting on the floor. My cat has no tail either but I suspect that is another story...

I popped him back into the garden. Shark penises and free skinks - Problogger had it all. WTF?

What weird shit happens to you??

Here are the rules for What the Fuck Wednesday:

1. THERE ARE NO RULES* 
2. On Wednesdays**, blog about what's made you go What the Everloving FUCK???? discombobulated you that week.
3. Steal the What the Fuck Wednesday button from my sidebar, and stick it on your sidebar or in your post.
4. Use the link below to link up to your What the Fuck Wednesday post (not just a link to your homepage).
5. Pop over to everyone else who’s linked up, read, and go WTF! with them in their comments.

* Actually there are 5 rules. Maybe 4. WTF?

** For Wednesdays, read “whatever day of the week it lands on the blog”. See Rule 1 above.

 

A story about intent - and how I got run over

I got run over today.* It's been an odd day so far. Full of good intentions (and poor outcomes).

There I was, minding my own in business, in the basement car park of Spotlight in Box Hill.

Now, some of you may be saying that this serves me right, shopping in a place like Spotlight. In the end that was a lie. I didn't shop at Spotlight at all. That was my intention, but it was not to be.

So there I was in the basement car park, trying to work out whether I had enough change to pay the $1.00 cost.

I had 95 cents.

Of course.

Standing there counting my five cent pieces, I felt a sudden, solid nudge to my posterior.
I looked around and was fucking amazed quite surprised to see that a HUGE MOFO 4WD small black hatchback had reversed out of a parking spot behind me and ran me clean over and broken every bone in my body bumped into my arse.

I wandered over and the driver wound down their window. I politely asked them to be more careful next time. They hadn't noticed that they'd run me over and killed me bumped into me.** They had intended to drive carefully -and failed.

As they drove away thoroughly chastised unconcerned, another exiting driver drove past me (damn I forgot to thank her for not running me over) and handed me her parking ticket. I had intended to pay with my credit card but now I didn't have to.

A win!

I put my precious 95 cents away and headed up to Spotlight. Where I didn't shop, despite intending to, because they didn't have what I wanted. Note to Spotlight Box Hill: your staff suck.

As part of my homework from the Problogger Training Event 2012, I've created a manifesto, a froggy bloggy statement of intent, for what to expect from my blog:

What to expect from the frog

This is what I intend to do with my blog. You can call me on it if I don't live up to my intentions.

I guess the moral of the story is that intentions are all well and good, but they won't stop you from viciously running someone over running your car into an unsuspecting pedestrian's arse. Nor will they get you the Stretch Magic you want unless you buy it on the internet and avoid Spotlight completely. Apparently.

*OK so maybe not run over. Bumped into by a car. Travelling at slow speed. My arse hurts, OK? So I was SO run over. Shit you people are a tough crowd to impress.
** I would like this moment record for posterior posterity. My arse is so small people run their cars into it and don't notice. Thankyouverymuch.

When have you seen good intentions go horribly wrong?

The saga of the bog blog continues... (this time with spare toilets)

Dear owner of the-pub-I-went-to-a-few-weeks-ago-that-will-remain-nameless-because-this-is-not-a-sponsored-post,

After visiting your esteemed establishment recently for some* drinks and an open-mic folk afternoon**, I feel compelled to bring a couple of items to your attention:

• You might want to improve the cleanliness of your bathrooms. Just sayin'.
• You must have some rough clientele*** because, where most places keep spare rolls of toilet paper in their bog, you keep, well, spare bogs.

ERMAHGERD!
A floating green arrow in the toilet!

 


What the scary floating green arrow
was trying to bring to my attention.
Proof that the items stacked up there were,
in fact, toilets.

• Do they get broken often, that you need to keep some spare ones on hand?
• Rather than storing spare bogs in your bog, maybe you could consider some toilet paper? Or even perhaps more than one toilet for the whole pub? Just a suggestion. Oh wait! Someone told you to get more toilets. So you did. And stacked them neatly in... the toilet.

Yours sincerely,
The noisy non-folk fan in the corner.

PS. I don't normally take my phone into the toilet with me. I saw these and snuck back in to take the shots****.

* Many.
**I just don't know myself anymore. It was fun. (I was drunk).
*** Do open-mic folk afternoons really get that rowdy? OK so yes I was the most rowdy there. But I didn't damage the damn toilet, did I? What kind of person do you think I am? (Don't answer that).
****After waiting for 3 hours because there was one toilet for the whole place. No shit.*****
***** Pun intended.

Not the nasal wax video blog

This was going to be my first sponsored post.

Before you go all "ERMAHGERD, SHE'S A TERTAL SELLERT" on my arse, here is my promise to you:

I'll only post about products if I think you're likely to be interested in them, and I can tell their story with swearing in my own froggy way. If a post is sponsored, I'll tell you up front, like this:

 

WARNING! WARNING WILL ROBINSON!

(insert flailing robot arms here)

THIS IS A SPONSORED POST!*

* This is not a sponsored post.

I hope you enjoy watching me humiliate myself in this first BRAND NAME FREE UNSPONSORED FrogVlog.

 

Do you suffer from nasal tufftage?

How do you deal with it?

Pssssst... for those brave souls who want to see the outtakes... severe language warning...

Badly behaved cutlery, shark penises and broken moustaches

I started to write my post-ProBlogger Training Event post, because that’s what you do after a blogging conference.

You write a brilliant piece outlining everything you did, the blogerati you met, and the amazing epiphanies you experienced.

Here’s my last one. A literary masterpiece (if you’re into questionable cutlery behaviour and broken limbs).

Here I am sitting in Hobart airport typing away. On my blog post. Except, the blog post didn’t happen. This did:

Yes this is what happened to me at Problogger 2012

I realised that I have a book that needs to be written. Looks like it’ll get written whether I like it or not.

Problogger was terrific and I recommend you go next year. Plenty of other people will blog about the amazing stuff they learned.

Here are, instead, my Top Ten Seven Moments from ProBlogger 2012:

Poorly Behaved Cutlery Strikes Again

Yes, another blogging conference where cutlery became the inadvertent star. This time, the spoon invested in a social media strategy. SMART SPOON.

 

 

The Devious Etihad Spoon demonstrating Blogger Pay Scales

The Mo goes Mad

I got to wear my (generic no-name nasal wax *cough*) moustache stencil to the cocktail party.

 

Then it broke. I proved that if nothing else, I can improvise.

 

Thanks to Jackie Purnell and Sarah from What Sarah Did Next for playing with me in the photo booth. Photos courtesy of Smile Booth Australia.

I sweated champagne

The morning after the night before. Sorry to anyone sitting near me. Despite showering and changing I’m pretty sure you’d have been able to get drunk just from licking me. So I’m glad you all restrained yourselves. It was best for everyone really.

Shark penises

That is all.

If you weren’t in Room 1 for this session, you missed out. They gave free marine mammal penises to each attendee. Did nobody tell you? Oh, it was a secret?

Oops. Sorry.

The one where I didn’t break my ankle (but I did try)

On the morning of the second day I tripped UP the tram steps, then spent ten minutes panicking because I couldn’t find my stick on moustache in my Tardis handbag.

Yep. I was ready for Day 2.

I met the woman who changed my life. In the toilet.

Let me clarify. I met Valerie Khoo in the bathroom.

Not the toilet itself.

And she changed my life because of what she said on a panel.*

Not what she did for me in the toilet.

Which was nothing, other than say hello to me.

I hope we’ve cleared up that horribly embarrassing misunderstanding.

I met some amazing bloggers and writers

I met so many people, some for the first time, some again after meeting them at the last conference. You were all wonderful, hilarious and beautiful. It made me happy to see so many of you embracing both your luminosity and your crazy at the same time.

Sarah from What Sarah Did Next gets a special mention because she put up with my whinging, chattering, general constant presence and a vague champagney smell for the whole conference. Plus she let me get changed in her hotel room.

Pity she didn’t want to go the traditional blog conference pash.



I have no idea why she's laughing.
Photo again thanks to Smile Booth Australia.


 

*More on that in another post.

Did you go to Problogger 2012?

If so, did you meet all the people you wanted to meet?

 

 

A chat with a blogging conference virgin (AKA my niche is swearing, what’s yours?)

Frog:   “Hey there. Sweary grumpy frog here. How the fuck are ya?”

BCV*:  “Mmm phmmmhhh.”

Frog:   “What was that?”

BCV:   “I’m shitting myself because Problogger is only 4 days away.”

Frog:   “You’re right! Excuse me while I do a little froggy happy dance.”

Pause while frog dances.

BCV:   “That’s a nice dance. You’re being a bit insensitive though.”

Frog:   “Oh. So is this your first blogging conference?”

BCV:   “Yes. I’m not sure what to expect, or even if I should be there”

Frog:   “Relax. You’ll be fine. Bloggers – including the Blogerati – are normal, nice people.”

BCV raises an eyebrow.

Frog:   “OK normal might be overstating it. Bloggers are all rational sane oh who am I kidding friendly welcoming oh fuckety. Bloggers are PEOPLE. And frogs. And as people (and frogs), bloggers cover a broad spectrum of… well… everything.

           Lots of bloggers will be just like you. Wondering how many changes of underwear they’re going to need while gathering up the courage to go say a squealy querulous hello to Mrs Woog, Eden or Kerri Sackville.

           My advice – and this covers life in general, not just blogging conferences - just jump the hell in.”

BCV:    “But so many things could go wrong!”

Frog:   “This was me before my first blogging conference:"



© Jeffrey Collingwood | Dreamstime.com

 



           "And I did OK. Even though I’m the frog that broke her ankle the morning after, outside the hotel, in a city far from home. I was half of the scary pair that brought you spoon porn. You’re welcome.

           My blog is about bodily functions (repeatedly), fame, stupidity, sarcasm, dungeons, spelling mistakes, homicidal marine creatures, nasal beauty, world peace and painful breakups.

           So basically, totally silly bullshit nothing and everything. Looking for common themes, I think my niche might be swearing.”

Frog makes a note of her niche.

BCV:    “But I’m not a pro. I’m not sure I’ll fit in.”

Frog:   “I’ve not made a single dollar from my blog. I have less than 400 Twitter followers. Less than 300 unique visitors to my blog each month. And I’m going to Problogger 2012 with my froggy head held high, because I know I belong there. Because I’m a blogger.

           Although, I am feeling a bit low now that I’ve looked at my stats.”

BCV and Frog share a moment to mourn the state of their stats.

 

Frog:    "Feel better now?"

BCV:    “Yes thanks.”

Frog:    “Everything will be fine because nobody expects anything of you (except  you). That’s called freedom.”

BCV:   “You know, you’re right!”

Frog:   “Fake it till you make it, baby. See you at #pbevent. I’ll be the one trying not to break any bones.”

 

Do you expect too much of yourself?**

 

*BCV = Blogging Conference Virgin

**Yes? Stop it right now or there will be consequences.

PS If you can’t attend the Problogger Training Event 2012, you can get access to recordings of all the sessions by clicking here to purchase a virtual ticket…