Oh no you just didn’t!

Because I have shocking insomnia which is a wonderful side effect, one of many, of all the medication I am on, I spend a lot of time awake, trapped in my bed, one of the redeeming features of this existence is Netflix, I have caught up on so much good quality stuff, stuff I missed first time around.


The other thing I do at night is play games on my tablet, I have quite a number I play, hidden object games, puzzles, RPGs, match threes and a couple of slot games. I quite like the slot games, they’re pretty and flashy and I don’t have to think much about what I am doing. I don’t ever buy any chips, and just rely on all the bonus/extra ways to get chips when I’m low, which is hardly ever, because slot machines love me, I win enormous jackpots all the time, which makes me happy, because when I’m playing a slot with a million dollar lowest roll, my heart still goes in my mouth, even if it’s not real money there is still that frisson.


But enough of that, yada yada I play online slots, one of the slots I play has recently had a major overhaul, it’s gone all very hi tech and extra flash, it has clubs and competitions‚Äč and other things to get you more involved, one of the new things they are meant to be bringing in is the ability to privately chat to other players, at the moment there is just two chat modes, whole table and club chat. Club chat is fine if you want to line up people to play in one of the competitions, whole table chat is mostly people just whinging about never winning, or if you’re playing a scatter slot, saying thanks for the shared wins.


It’s not private, it never has been, so there I was in the wee sma’s of the night, in a room with one other person, both of us minding our own business, playing our game, being polite and saying thanks for the infrequent shared wins ( it was being a ūüźĖ that night). When in bounced this couple, they’d obviously agreed to meet up to play, because he/she/they greeted each other affectionately and exchanged small talk, all fine, no biggy, I tend to ignore the message lines unless I’m saying thanks for a shared wins.

Next time I look at the text space she’s complaining that she’s‚Äč had a real bad run of luck and is just about out of chips, the guy she’s playing with responds kinda like “I got plenty of chips, how desperate are ya” they go back and forth, I look at my own stuff ignoring them, then I get a pretty good win, with a good share and my original person says thanks, and I look up at the screen just in time to see Ms REALLY desperate go to town on Mr I got plenty of chips.

I’m not a prude, I’ve done things that I’m pretty damned glad my kids have never found out about, because NO ONE wants to have THAT conversation, do they daughters!¬† As far as rp sex went it was pretty average, not very descriptive and you would have to have been pretty horny.


But yes anyway my original partner just went !!! and left, I just typed “thanks for ruining my game” and left, then I reported both their gamer IDs because I’m petty like that, and because, dude, dudette, I don’t frickin care how horny you are, time and place dudes, TIME and PLACE!



Tact and compassion are so words in the dictionary, look them up.

I recently posted a pic of M’lady Callista, Callista is the eldest of my three elderly (in cat years) felines of my heart. An acquaintance of an acquaintance posited a comment on the picture of my old cranky lady which I shall quote verbatim. 

“Your cat looks very old and very scruffy, I hadn’t seen a picture of her in a while, I assumed she had died. Then I realised that if she’d died everyone would have certainly known. You’re not exactly known as sane when it comes to that cat. Perhaps it’s time to think about who you are really keeping her alive for, your benefit or hers.

Once I had metaphorically picked myself up off the floor and closed my jaw which developed this habit of dropping open in sheer anger every time I so much as thought of the nasty, spiteful little post, I managed to pull myself together enough to post what I thought was a quite reasonable and reasoned reply. According to my friends in that place I failed dismally.

Now I know how Tom Cox felt each time he posted pictures of his beloved The Bear who was 21, and right up until the very last month was a happy, loved and supremely spoiled beastie. Without fail and usually from a poster in another part of the world (Tom is from the UK) Tom would be greeted with comments about how sad it must be that The Bear would be dying soon and was Tom ready for the sorrow and pain. 

Believe you me, every owner of a kitty of advanced years is acutely aware that this day could be the one where it all starts to spiral out of control, that this could be the day you say goodbye. If love could have kept any cat alive it would have been The Bear and his army of lovers.

But that is not how any of this works, and I do not believe that anyone who loves their furry ones would deliberately prolong the suffering of their beloved, simply to save themselves grief.

I reach out in the middle of the night to check if Callista is still breathing, I have been known to poke her quite vigorously when she has those moments of very quiet stillness, I know very well that our time together is now short, and the mere thought of that rends my heart into a million little pieces, but it would never stop me from doing what is right, what she deserves.

Callista stole my heart over 18 years ago, with her teeny pointed face and ridiculously silly ears that she never really grew into, when and if the time comes that I have to make that decision, I will, but I hope Callista will do me the honour of taking her last breath in my arms, held tightly by her person, the person who owes her so much and loves her more than words could ever say.

It’s all so very very subjective¬†

I was listening to my music this morning whilst playing my latest addiction, a nifty time consuming game called Egg, Inc, a cross between time management, farming (with all different sorts of eggs) and resources allocation. It is like nothing I’ve ever played before and it’s been a great surprise finding out how much fun it is.
Well anyway as I said I was playing my game and listening to music when on came a song, this song –

Marshalls Portable Music Machine – Robin Jolley
According to Glenn A.Baker this is the worst Australian song of all time, oh Glenn, Glenn I beg to differ most stridently, for your delectation at least THREE songs that are so demonstrably worse than poor old Robin.

This is arguably THE worst song to ever come from Australia, I give you – 

Shudduppa Your Face – Joe Dolce
I am forever apologising to my UK friends for Australia inflicting that one on them.

However Joe is not alone in the horrors he perpetuated, I give you – 

Baked Beans – Mother Goose
To be fair Mother Goose originated in New Zealand, but like most bands had to come to Australia to make a decent living, however unlike the very talented bands that came across the ditch and struck it big, like Split Enz, Mi-Sex, Dragon etc, Mother Goose lacked one thing, proper talent, unless you’re Weird Al, humourous novelty songs can only take you so far.

And then we have these two songs –

It’s not the way that you do it – Pussyfoot
She was a very very scary woman, not surprising though she was a big hit with both teenage boys and men of a certain age.


I can’t stop myself from loving you – William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare was a toss up between that one, and his other bile inducing god awful song My Little Angel.

And that’s just off the top of my head, I’m sure if I thought about it some more, I could probably find 100 songs more worthy of the worst song to ever come from Australia, so leave poor old Robin alone.

Catching up

I rarely use my laptop these days, mainly because I have great difficulty in seeing the screen and the keyboard unless it’s inches from my face, I only got new glasses last year and already they are not strong enough, my opthalmologist told me back when I was 13 that my eyesight would start to get really bad in my 40s, well it held off until my 50s, I was kinda hoping he was wrong, but every subsequent eye exam has said the same thing. 
Anyway, so I can’t use my laptop, means I have to use my tablet, I have a funky new one and so I have just installed every single app known to womankind, including the one for WordPress, and I feel like writing again, so you’ll see more from me on here, cos you know you can never have too many platforms.
     xTeddyx ūüėė

meaningfulness: or why i like fancy soda

i have been a bit… i’ve been struggling to know where to start with lately, not even remembering where i left off. it was my birthday. i broke out of hospital when i was anaemic because…

Source: meaningfulness: or why i like fancy soda

Casually racist, homophobic.

The instant you preface ANY comment with,

“I’m not racist but…(insert derogatory statement about a group with a different skin colour or ethnicity” and then follow it up with “some of my best friends are…(Black, Indian, Mexican, Indigenous etc etc)” so you can’t possibly be racist or bigoted.


You’re probably not a full blown frothing at the mouth KKK card carrying racist or bigot, what you are is casually racist and that is even worse than being an openly racist/bigoted individual, because you can spot the dyed in the wool racists, they are not backward in coming forward with their opinions.

It’s the casual racism that’s the hardest to avoid, the institutionalized racism, the different attitudes when a POC or someone from a Minority goes shopping, or applies for a job, or tries to find a house to rent, the subtle and not so subtle roadblocks that exist, that most people probably don’t realise that they pay into.

The empty seat on the bus next to a dark skinned man, surrounded by white people all standing, because no one will sit next to him, how can that not be casual racism, no matter what spin you put on it, yet I’m sure if you asked these people they would be horrified to be called racist, because it seems that calling someone on their racist/bigoted behaviour is worse than the racism/bigotry itself.

The same applies to “I’m not homophobic but…” statements, followed by the assertion that some of your best friends/sister/mother/aunt etc are gay, so you can’t possibly be homophobic.

Wrong again, casually racist, casually homophobic, and all probably without you even thinking twice about it or the impact it has on people.

Hunter S. Thomcat is a traitor. An adorable, fluffy traitor.

The look on Rollys’ face is priceless

The Bloggess

Rolly is the kind of cat who will sometimes let you pet her but then will unexpectedly bite you in the eye because it’s Wednesday, and if you try to pick her up SHE WILL FUCKING DESTROY YOU.  Hunter S. Thomcat takes a slightly different approach…

HST is a bit of a traitor

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