Thursday, February 24, 2005

Eggsellent question Fluffy

Fluffy says...

the tiny man is into hard boiled eggs, mostly because he has a egg cup in
the shape of Noddy and another in the shape of Big Ears. at least one a day. his
hard boiled daddy strongly suggests 2 a week is about right for egg consumption.
more would be "dangerous cholesterol intake". try telling daddy about "dangerous alcohol intake"! but i digress.

how many eggs is too many?

Haha it's a super egg! I love you Google Image

In food it’s rare to find an all-rounder. Something that’ll give you all that you need in one serving. Hell, let’s face it, it’s hard to find an all-rounder in any aspect of life. But The Egg… oh The Egg is a wondrous thing.

To build a little chicken you have to have some pretty impressive ingredients. So it makes sense that eggs have some rich components, like:

The protein content of The Egg is the bench mark for other foods. It is the only food that has all the essential amino acids (i.e. the ones the body can’t make). Every other food ever lacks at least one of these amino acids.

Muscle tissue is made from protein, therefore it stands to reason that if you’re going to make a baby chicken (awww) you’ll need all the essential amino acids.

Let’s not forget you need proteins forevs too. You’re constantly remaking yourself and you need the protein to build it up. Eggs are the best and cheapest source of achieving this. For example, 2 serves of The Egg is the equivalent to 1 serve of meat, at about a millionth of the cost. Yeah, a millionth.

In the case of Tiny Man his Recommended Daily Allowance (RDA) is 1.2g/kg and a large egg contributes 6g of high quality complete protein.

An egg a day will do no harm here.

Vi-tamins (or as the delightful English would say Vit-amins)
The Egg is RICH, that’s right RICH, in vitamins and minerals. We all know we need vitamins and minerals, so I won’t go there.

However because eggs have both a fat soluble phase (the yolk) and a water soluble phase (the white) The Egg has both oil and water soluble vitamins. Brilliant!

Oil Soluble Vitamins (and the Nutrient Daily Values for 2 Large Eggs): A (12%), D (12%), E (6%).

Water Soluble Vitamins (and the Nutrient Daily Values for 2 Large Eggs): B12 (16%), B6­­ (8%), B9 aka Folate (12%), B2 aka Riboflavin (30%), B1 aka Thiamine (4%).

Here no harm. Robbo?

This is the scary bit right? Well, no, not really...

Yes, The Egg contains cholesterol and a reasonable amount too. But before you get all “meh, meh, meh… cholesterol is bad,” read this and this and this .

There, feel better?

Oh, you didn’t read the links… pisht, lazy! Fine, here's the goss:

Cholesterol is made by the body, we don’t actually need to eat it because we make enough. It’s used around the place in such useful bio-thingy’s as:

-Bile acids which allow the body to absorb fats and fat-soluble vitamins from the digestive tract,
-Making steroid hormones,
-Starting material for the synthesis of vitamin D (the sun one).

Eating cholesterol will not necessarily raise the blood cholesterol level. The liver will just make a little less, because you’ve eaten some.

As far as I’m concerned the cholesterol is not the baddie here. It’s the kids he hangs with. Blood cholesterol either hangs with LDL (low density lipoprotein) or HDL (high density lipoprotein).

LDL is a bad egg (so to speak). He’s taking ‘bad’ fats out into the blood stream from the liver to store in adipose tissue. HDL on the other hand is a good kid who likes to gently carry fats from tissue to the liver (to be converted into something else). Don’t we all just love HDL right now. You suck LDL!

Also the amount of cholesterol you have in your blood is directly related to your weight. If you’re overweight you’ll have higher blood cholesterol. Ergo, if you’re doctor tells you your cholesterol is too high, it probably means you’re overweight.

See cholesterol isn’t so scary. He’s just got a bad wrap, yo.

Now to specifically address Tiny Man…

*fishes around in bag trying to find a stamp*

No, wait wrong kind of address. Regroup Sugar....

Sorry, ok.


Tiny people are growing fast. The Egg a day will not harm him, in fact it’s probably the best time of his life to be eating The Egg so much.

If Tiny Man were a middle aged overweight man with diabetes I’d have to change my tune a little, but at this stage let him, Noddy and Big Ears spend a little time together (careful though, you don't want Tiny Man to turn into a raging homosexual).

Kids are fickle and he’s probably over the whole egg thing by now anyway. But if you get too concerned buy him a Hooley Dooley’s spoon and give him a tub of yogurt.

Monday, February 21, 2005

Would you like Balls with your Burger?

How well do we really know our pets?

We know we love them and that they love us because we give them food and let them sleep on our bed.

I have a silky black kitten, Burger*, that is morphing from Junior Burger into Whopper Burger. Through this tumultuous time of change I have realised I didn’t know my baby as well as I thought I had. Like any parent with an adolescent I’m a little taken aback by the development process.

Take for example yesterday when my neighbour announced to me that my beautiful baby girl, is in fact A BOY! Wtf?! When did this happen. She’d… sorry, he’d been a girl for the last 5 months. Even the Vet had said she *tisk* he was a girl. Nonetheless my neighbour flashed Burger’s recently dropped testes in my general direction. My little girl had indeed become a man.

It explains a lot. She was always quite boisterous as a girl. I though she was just a bit of a tomboy, mixin’ it wit da boyz, just like her ol’ mum. Little did I know she was indeed (and is) one of da boyz. Weird.

Now I feel like our whole relationship has changed. I’m the eldest child of an all female family, what do I know about raising a boy? Have my months of calling him a beautiful girl resulted in gender-confusion? Or has it made him into a bit of a SNAC (sensitive new aged cat), a real pussy magnet? Last night I even started calling him ‘mate’, in the hope that he’d feel more blokey. My relationships with the male species leaves somewhat to be desired, how do I know this relationship won’t be any different?

Oh! Have I failed as a mother? I mean I didn’t even realise she was a he! In my own defence, how often do I go around gazing at my cat’s supposed non-existent nads? If anything that makes me more normal, right?

Oh! Woe is me.

*she… damn it! I mean, he’s named Burger because in the light her… fuck… his glistening coat has a tint of Burgundy. Plus it also goes delightfully well with my food thang.

Friday, February 18, 2005

I like you a Latte

Two cups of tea or one cup of coffee per day
Two cigarettes per day
No alcohol
No drugs
No fried foods
Move your ass

These are the rules that govern my life for the next month.

I’m happy about it. And every time someone pooh-poohs it or scoffs I feel a little glimmer of “hee hee, another one I can prove wrong”. Believe you me there are a good deal of scoffer’s out there. Even my mum scoffed.

It’s been two days now. The only thing I’m really missing is my caffeine. The problem is this:

do I have a cup of tea in the morning, knowing I can have another in the afternoon, or do I put all my eggs into one basket and have a glorious cup of coffee?

I’ve been doing the two tea’s a day thang. I love tea. It’s good for you, what with all the anti-oxidants.

*cue annoying kid* “aunty who?”

*laughing at idiot kid* “Nooo, anti-oxidants. They absorb free-radicals which attack cells in the body. Thus reducing the risk of cancer and heart disease (amongst other things).”

But I LOVE coffee. It tastes like smooth awesomeness, sweet milkiness clashing with the bitter coffee beans. ARGH! Why am I talking about this?

Tomorrow I’m going to the place that has the BEST COFFEE EVER (yeah, I’m not telling you about that one either). I’m going to lovingly sip that dense liquid through the stiff foam, savouring every millilitre that passes through my lips.

Oh God. Is it tomorrow yet?

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Ice cold Ruski's

What do you know about Russian Politics?

Me? Little to none. I did a CAT* on it in Year 12. But that was all Lenin and Trotsky stuff and I’m a little sketchy on the details.

You don’t hear so much about the frozen Russians now days though. I can’t tell if that’s because the Pale Gnome is good at fixing things, or good at covering things up.

He’s an interesting fella.

Vladimir sad

Vladimir mad

Vladimir happy

Vladimir in Hell

Vladimir and his hat

So Bond villain-esk, right now

Anyways... I was reading my weekly food industry update yesterday morning and came across this little nugget.

Those Russians sure do love their Vodka. It’s a freakin multi-billion dollar industry. And the government want to take it back. Perhaps this is Vlad's knack for keeping his peeps warm. Get ‘em sozzled on Wodka and spend the profits on NQR space equipment.

That’s really all I have to say on the whole deal.


I’m tried from moving and watching various billionaires on TV last night.
Na zdorvje

*A CAT is a Common Assessment Task. A major assignment in last year of high school.

Monday, February 14, 2005

Bah Lovebug!

Can we get rid of Valentines Day… please?

It’s so stupid.

No… I’m not saying that because I’m single. Yes… I’m fine with being single. Now that we’ve established that can we move on?

Amazingly I do quite well on the Valentines front. I won’t go into detail, because I’m not into sharing that unless you’re gazing deep into my Hazel eyes. Let’s just say that it appears Cupid’s arrow only works for 24 hours at best. Whatevs.

I did wake up with a boy this morning! But that’s a long and involved story, which doesn’t end in Valentine gushing. And has more to do with the electricity at my new pad not being on until today.

So what’s my problem with this ‘season’?

It’s the constant asking of “so do you have a Valentine?” To which I smile and politely reply “No.” It’s the following responses that kill me “Oh, I can’t believe that”, “well, what’s wrong with all those guys?” “… just when you least expect it.”

Wah. Wah. Wah.

Yes. Ok, I get it. It will happen. But for the moment it hasn’t, that’s fine. But stop reminding me that it’ll happen when I least expect it. Because as you say that, I start to expect it. Then you have to stop expecting it. And then you go mental.

So Valentines Day my one true love Johnny and I have one message for you…

Friday, February 11, 2005

Sex, Drugs and Rock'n'Roll? No Thanks... Well maybe just a little less

There’s a change in the air. Can you feel it? It’s coming in from the East, which is strange, because we usually get Westerly’s.

Let’s do this like it’s a catchy chocolate bar add:

As far as I’m concerned the holiday season is over. Sure, I’ve been back for a good month now, but you’ve gotta warm up to these things. Yesterday I didn’t have time to sneeze (I sneeze stacks, I work with a lot of pepper you see).

My favourite conniving colleague is finishing up today. She’s flying off to be adventurous. No more naughty long lunches and in-house emails. *sigh*

AND the company is moving to Derrimut. Yeah, I know, I’ve never heard of it either. It’s near a woman’s prison and Taylor’s Lakes. Oh, God. It’s not until May, but still… I fear thinking about it.

Speaking of moving, I’m like totally moving house this weekend. Yeah, sure, it’s only 5 blocks away and still in the same suburb, but I’m leaving what has been my humble dwelling for the last 2 years.

This does not suck, because in my current abode my kitchen is a hovel and the back of the house is sinking. However, it pains me to say farewell to my delicious gals Miss Mary-Jayne and Miss Mary-June.

My new place is light and airy, albeit tiny and Chalet like with the fake wood, but it shall be a nice place to come after my new founded busy-ness at work.

This weekend also yields the last weekend of drinking for me and my Homie for A WHOLE MONTH! Ho-ly! In an attempt to save cash, our livers, our waist line and our respective brains we’ve made a “bet” not to drink, smoke, drug, fatten ourselves for A WHOLE MONTH. As my Homie is Irish by trade we’re finishing up on St Pat’s Day. Can anyone smell a green victory drink. Ya-huh!

I can so do this by the way. It doesn’t even worry me in the slightest. No. Shut up. It doesn’t! Plus I get a present at the end and presents rule.

Watch me morph from this:

no... i really do look like a deep fried mars bar at the moment. ew.

to this:

ahahahaha! don't you just love apples! hahahahaaa, life is so great when you're healthy!

See how it’s all changing in a Mars Bar kind of way? I’m excited, its been a long time coming.

*welcomes with open arms*

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

This year I ain't no Chicken

Finally my time has come. Smoother me in luck, happiness and wealth and call me a Rooster.

I’m a scientist right and can tend to be a little sceptical at times. OK, so a lot sceptical. But like any gal I read my star signs and say things like “it’s ok that I’m stubborn, I’m a Taurean.”

But the whole Rooster thing freaks me out a little:

The Rooster is a flamboyant personality, feisty and obstinate.
He is quite the extrovert who loves to strut his stuff and is proud of who he
is. Outwardly confident, the Rooster is also a trustworthy, hardworking
individual. He’ll tell it like it is with no qualms or

Roosters are very loyal individuals. They do not like
dishonesty or mockery of any sort. They are blunt, up front and honest people
and expect those around them to be the same. Roosters are happiest when they are
surrounded by others, at a party or just a social gathering. They even enjoy the
spotlight and will exhibit their charisma and wit in a minute. This star quality
can be overbearing, for a Rooster expects you to listen to him while he speaks
and can become agitated if you don’t. Roosters do have a tendency to brag about
themselves and their achievements and demand an attentive audience when doing

Metal Roosters can come off
as arrogant and stuck up at times. They need a cushion for that overextended ego
and someone to make sure it stays inflated. They are reasonable people who seem
to analyze every decision they make and every situation they find themselves in.
They are standoffish at times and can let their aggression get in the way of a
blossoming friendship or romance. These Roosters should take a breather from
their egos long enough to really enjoy what they have to offer

Flamboyant? Feisty? Stuff strutter? Tells it like it is? Over analyser? Charisma and wit? Me? Well… possibly. Ok, more than probable. Fine, definitely.

This year has just got to be mine! It’s about freakin’ time. So if you see me around I only want to be praised, handed money, showered with gifts and gazed upon adoringly. Ok? And if you’re born in the year of the Snake, come up and say ‘hi’ – coz we’re perfect for each other.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Taking a Leaf out of Booky's Book

This topic was posed to me by the delightful and fellow Tony Delroy fan, Booky.

“Why can’t you get lettuce anymore – only that rocket shit?”

Then he told me a bad joke, as he is wan to do.

Doctor: What seems to be the problem.

Patient: Perhaps it’s best I show you, though it’s rather embarrassing.

*Patient pulls down pants, bends over and spread cheeks*

Doctor: Oh!

*winces* seeing a lettuce leaf growing from Patient’s a-hole.

Doctor: I’m afraid to say this is just the tip of the Iceberg.

Good one.

Anyhoo… the plight of the lettuce.

I happen to be a bit of an aficionado on lettuce. Self proclaimed, obviously. My Aunt and Uncle have a farm, lettuce is their major crop.

I worked there for a summer picking lettuce. It’s dirty, back-breaking, sweaty, the lettuce juice stains your clothes and you’re surrounded by hippies. Great. But you get paid and nepotism is great for the good jobs.

Lettuce is such a fad item. As far as I’m concerned the frilly, fancy-pants lettuce has been on its way out for a while now. Iceberg is making a comeback, albeit slowly. However, as soon as it’s starts making a comeback ~wham~ here comes a drought. And ~wham~ there’s a new fad leafy brother trying to take over your turf. In this case, Booky, quite rightly points out rocket is the NKOTB.

Point 1: The Drought
Did you know there’s a drought? There like totally is. One of the worst in 100 years. Haven’t you been paying attention to Bracksey’s adds? Lettuce needs stacks of water. Yeah, I know all vegies do, but… well, you not going to forgive lettuce for being wilty in the supermarket are ya? So the supermarkets won’t buy it off the farmers coz the customers won’t buy it off them. Ergo the lettuce sits in the fields getting all slimey (slimey lettuces are worse than anything ever, however, great for throwing at the hippies in the fields*).

Basically there isn’t enough water to make the lettuce industry blossom (so to speak). Also it’s been particularly humid this summer, which lettuce also hates.

Sure rocket is a leafy green too, but like spinach (the other show stopper) it’s able to hold in the water better, allowing it to be a little heartier.

Point 2: Jamie says so
The leaf fad changes according to endorsement. 3 years ago your average Jo didn’t know what rocket was. That is until Jamie starts talking about it deep green colour and it’ pukka peppery taste. Hey presto you can get it greengrocers, then ~shazam~ you can get it in the supermarket. Everyone wants it. The Jamie Army will buy it by the ‘barrow load.

Point 3: There’s still hope
Even though Iceberg hasn’t been around a lot lately, her ship’s not about to sink (sorry had to be done). It still remains to be the most popular, cheap, delightfully fresh and hearty of the lettuce plants. Many a leafy green’s tried to bully her out, with no success. Never fear, Iceberg will always be on the horizon.

*They're an easy shot because they're mainly vegans and have no energy. ooooh, c'mon. I'm not really that against them, not all of them.


The Age weather report says that it's 14 degrees right now. It's summer. This should not be happening. So it makes sense that this morning I saw...

An long, ebony coloured African man in a bright yellow rain coat holding a plaid umberella riding a unicycle along Footscray Road.

Friday, February 04, 2005

Everything in it's rightful place

Alternative title: The Tale of Little Sugar & the Blues Exploxion in her Knickers

"Oh! Hi Jon. *twirls hair* You're so dreamy, you belong here:"

"Heh! Look how rock'n'roll it is. Can you resist? Thought not. "

*leans in for kiss*

*draws curtains*

"Hi Russ. I love a big man. What's that, you want to hang out with me? Sure, cool. Let's drink to that. *chink* Say, you know what you'd look great next to?"

"Yeah, my stereo!"

"If you could just sit next to my 80's style beat box... uh huh, at this drum kit I have convientiently placed here. Hey! If the mood takes you bash along."

"No, really bash along."

"Bash along!"

"Now, just hold still while I put this chain around your leg. Hey, hey, it's cool. It's... ah... fashion. Now keep playing and I'll grab your water bowl."

"Yo, Judah, what's going on?"

"No I haven't seen Jon or Russ."

"Say have you met my Best Friend?"

"You guys would be so cute together! Then we could hang out together all the time and have late night conversations without having any sexual tension, because you're with my Bestie. Excellent."

"What do you mean you're not really attracted to her? Of course you are! You ARE! Listen if you want Russ not to have a water bowl then keep up this unattractive bullshit... i dare you."

"Sure she loves sushi, you should totally take her out for dinner."

"Bye, you guys"


*heads back to rock'n'roll bed*

Thursday, February 03, 2005

Why wouldn't you love them?

David Plastik

Wednesday, February 02, 2005


We’ve all heard of Botox right?

It’s something the rich and bored inject into their faces to look smooth and wrinkle free.

It’ll turn you from this:

into this:

Last night, watching The O.C. and Desperate Housewives I noticed that very rarely did any of the females foreheads moved.


What's wrong Terri?... wait is there something wrong? i can't tell.

Pretty sure Marcia has had her whole face done

This blonde one freaked me out the most

Throughout my night in front of the box I went through differing fits of emotions:

1) Excitement.
I’ve been somewhat entranced by the Botox revolution since I first heard of it. I believe it had to do with the fact that I became aware of it when I was at Uni and studying canning, (bare with me, this will all make sense).

You see Botox is a toxin that is produced by the worlds most evil of microbes Clostridium botulinum. It’s hard to kill. It is heat resistant, it won’t grow in the presence of oxygen and you only need the tinniest amount to become as stiff as a board (dead, that is). What’s a perfect condition then for this little miracle? The inside of a can.

Food Techies, like myself, are fearful of Cl. botulinum. If there’s an outbreak of botulism from your miscalculation people will die rather swiftly. It’s the toxin that governments are worried will be added to water supplies, killing millions, from just 1mL of toxin in a damn.

So, you can see why when I see famous people injecting themselves with the Botox, I become a little excited. It’s fraught with danger! It’s like deciding that sitting in a tub full of funnel web spiders is good for your aura.

2) Wonderment
Wonderment, because in a whole night of television I think I saw maybe 3 women’s forehead move. Seriously. I frustrated my fellow onlookers by screaming at the television all night: “There’s something wrong with that woman’s face… it’s not moving!”; “Holy shit, there’s another one!”; “they’re all so surprised – all the time.”

3) Frustration
How can these women call themselves actors when they’re limiting their facial expressions? They’re perpetually surprised! Never an angry furrowed brow, never a crease of sadness, never an exaggerated raise of the eyebrow. It began to annoy me.

And they all began to look a little cat like. Which is just freaky. Why can’t we all just grow old gracefully and deal with the fact that as you get older you skin looses it’s youthful smoothness and takes on a few esteemed knowledge lines?