la la la, oh i'm in love with a small beige dog...

Thank you, thank you... please form an orderly queue ..NO PUSHING, PLEASE... you will all be granted your assigned quota of quasi-entertaining blog-fodder in due course. Okay then. Friday night saw mindlessmunkey receiving a lovely surprise in the form of a phone call from Mother Jude and Mr Mikey in Japan. They were ringing to offer their emotional support after I sent them a very long woe-is-me email. It was wonderful, as always, to get their eternally-wise advice, and just to hear their voices again. Munkey and friends are all hanging out for the (now not-too-distant) day when they're home and we can have aftenoon tea with them in the Hills once more.

On Saturday night, it was time to officially celebrate the Birthday of Ms Moodles & Ms Jane!!! There were many many people at the Snazzles-Moodles-Plantman-(& future Jellyfish) residence, and much grog was imbibed. Many of the attendees were folk I hadn't seen in quite a while, such as Snazzle's RMIT gang, Mr Tim's beau Mr Ant, etc etc. A merry night seemed to be had by all, and I wasn't tooo hungover on Sunday morn, so all in all a very good occasion.

I joined with patermunkey and Ms Cait on Sunday arvo to see Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit. What a marvellous film! I am SO OVER the formulaic crap churned out time and time again by the big animation houses. With every one, the humour seems to become more laboured, the stories more generic and predictable, and the characters more soulless. So how nice it is to see a film made in an old-school animation form, with genuinely loveable characters, consistently chortle-worthy humour and a genuine, warm soul. SOUL, people. Something Shrek, Nemo and those fucking Madagascar penguins wouldn't know if it mounted and rogered them in the middle of Times Square.

Anyway, special mention must go to faithful pooch Gromit - truly one of the most wonderful creations in animation history. He has no mouth. He doesn't speak, squeak or make any noise whatsoever. The only part of his face that moves are his ears and his brow. Yet he is emotive, empathetic, and - yes I'll say it - goddamn HOT! Don't try and deny it, lovers and dreamers. Gromit the clay-mation canine is a dead-set spunk.

In other news: I AM OFF TO QUEENSLAND! Yay! I will be spending five-ish days around New Years in a place called Wonga Beach, in a house titled with seductive tackiness: Hasta Mañana. I will be accompanying a veritable harem of stunning broads *hag-fag munkey* who have almost all promised to get their tits out in the pool. Ahhh how many straight guys would love to swap bodies (or even just eyes) with me for this holiday? But they don't get to! Haha! Munkey the loveable token-girlie-girl will have these wonderful lasses all for his own sun-kissed, beer-splashed purely-platonic enjoyment. Huzzah! Well that seems to be all folks. Feel free to come by again next time. But for now please clear the area. Move along. Nothing more to see.


Clockwise: the intelligent, resourceful, loyal, lovely man of my dreams ; if only he wasn't a dog. and four inches tall. and made of plasticine ; Wonga Beach, where I and my bevy of beauties will be spending NYE ; our summer abode, Hasta Mañana.

~~~~~~~