Saturday Skinfest

I'm in a kinda crappy mood, as I've had to deal with issues that I've termed "not my problem".  Even when you know you are not responsible for someone else's actions, it doesn't stop you from feeling the fall out of it all.  So as I drown my sorrows in cider (ok, not really that extreme... just a couple of drinks) perhaps a  bit of skin will perk me up:

Nothing I say will do this justice...

It was this big.  Honest.

I do hope they all wore their deodorant that morning.  Mr. Angelic sure looks like it - lord knows he wouldn't be smiling over any of the games the Titans played last year.

I think I'm feeling better now...

Photo Friday

Now doesn't Westy look comfortable?  Or dead... No, just comfortable, honest.

Stop, Cross, Sneeze

Let's face it - as a woman when you cross that magical line of 40 you enter a different world.  Sure you don't want to admit it but:

• your fertility, which since age 35 was plunging like Wall Street, now goes into asystole
• you are closer to menopause than away from it
• your boobs are losing their fight against gravity
• you get called "ma'am" way more than you did when you were 30
• Duran Duran have been around over 30 years and when the *hell* did that happen??
• and this happens:

And if you find you have a cold, or hayfever, you find you must hold back that sneeze long enough to cross your legs or find yourself doing extra laundry.

Just sayin'...

Saturday Skinfest

Bet you thought Friday night was a one-off, right?  Can't blame you as I have been very sporadic with my posting since I went back to work 2 years ago.  Last night's absence was simply the result of a poor night's sleep on Friday and the decongestants/pain killers kicking in.  But I'm here now, so let's get on with the most popular feature on the blog - manflesh:

This year saw the retirement of the Shirtless (and less hirsute than here) Wonder, Darren Lockyer.  Locky you were a legend, with or without your shirt, but you will live on in the Skinfest.

Luckily I get to watch my not-so-secret Dorkcrush Nathan Hindmarsh for another year.  Let the dackings continue!

Err, I guess the water wasn't cold enough to cause shrinkage?

From the archives, and for one of the people responsible for inspiring me to get off my ass and start blogging again, Dave.

Photo Friday

So it's quarter to 10 on a Friday night.  Sparky is out, Her Majesty and Clive are asleep, as is The Hermit.  I have the beginnings of a head cold and am treating it with some cold medicine and orange juice laced with vodka.  It would seem I am finally getting my head around my new job since I'm not completely drained despite the stress of one study with one patient taking up 80% of my time for the last two freakin' weeks!  And I said to myself, "Self you really need to get back to your blog."  So here I am:

Now that's a real shame when folks be throwin' away a perfectly good possum like that