Britney Spears: Believe

Oops, I did it again.

I really do apologise for all the Britney posts of late, but try as I might, the girl's comedic grist for the mill is just impossible to resist. Point in case: reading here that the shape of her newly released perfume Britney Spears' believe is apparently multifaceted - get this - to reflect Britney's own many beliefs.

Did you hear that? That was my gut exploding.

What might some of these beliefs be, you ask? Well, I'm willing to take a stab at a couple of them in all their multifaceted glory:

1. Thou shalt not wear underwear. Like, ev-errrrr.

2. Thou shalt not waste one single day without being photographed, especially mid custody battle, the exposure of which is only second to a crotchless night out in Vegas...

3. Thou shalt only use photographs from the old pre-baby days when launching a new product because like, people are stupid and won't even know the difference. Just perve and pay, people.

Did I miss any?

Comedy 101

So I'm working my way through the magnificent collection-a-la-comedy at our local video store, taking notes and getting mega-inspired. I figure if I can't get out to the great comedy here in Canada yet (but when we finally get a car: LOOK OUT!), then the great comedy shall come to me.

This week I've been in a Saturday Night Live kinda mood, so have been stuck into the best of Gilda Radner and John Belushi respectively. While the comedy does seem to have dated a little, their commitment has certainly not. Holy freaking mustard tarts, (on which note, I certainly hope there is no such thing), they didn't call Belushi the master of kamikaze comedy for nothing.

I wanted to find you this amazing clip of him set in a graveyard, it's really poignant - especially given how things turned out in his actual life - but youtube couldn't seem to find it for me. I would spend more time hunting it down, but my son is already clawing at my leg trying to pry me away from the computer, so I fear to waste more time here might result in him starting to eat it. Then again, that would be an easy way to lose weight...

You know you're in Canada when...

...you walk down the main street, only to have your path crossed by a coyote. Yes, that's right. A coyote.

Feel free to add your own 'you know you're in Canada when' below.

ThirdCat, this is for you...

Ooh, baby baby it's a wild world...

After reading this post on Rockstar Mommy, I have made the rash (yet I prefer to consider it rash-ional) decision to remove all photos of my kids from my photo collection available here.

I'm not going to comment any further on the sick state of the world that even makes this an issue - there's nothing I can say that hasn't really already been said anyway - but suffice to say that this now means a few things for CM readers, namely either:

a) Nothing. You don't give two rats nipples' about the photos anyway.

b) A minor disappointment, given how super-super cute my kids happen to be and how much you enjoy seeing them evolve. Ah. Sometimes I wish I could simply enjoy them only in the silence of image form too....

c) A major catastrophe, leaving you with a Comic-Mummy's-kids-shaped-hole in your heart. If that really is the case then you are either:

i) a fruit-loop, in which case my reasons for doing this are justified; OR
ii) a friend (and that includes blogging buddies!), in which case please just drop me a line and I can add you to my flickr friends and/or just make sure you're hooked up with me on Facebook. I'm happy to keep posting but only to fam and friends now. That's right - I may pimp out my babies, but from now I'm keeping it in da hood. Or something.

Who did I say was the fruitloop?

*PS This also means that most of the flickr photos are now going to be of me, thus exposing my madly inflated ego for what it is. Yikes...I'd better start taking more landscapes...

The final season of Six Feet Under...

...is officially the best way to release all your 'damn I'm missing my family back in Oz' tension.

Seriously. I've spent the best part of the last three days crying my eyes out, much to the bemusement of my hubby, who's all "Uh...Jen? You don't even know these people. Why? Because they're not REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And I'm all "THEY ARE REAL!!!! And don't you DARE go interrupting my last precious moments with these people I've come to know, love and over-empathise with over the past few years. Don't you understand that everybody I know in real life has already found out what happens to these people! Don't you know that I'm behind? Don't you know that I need to find out for myself, say goodbye and grieve my heart out for them?!?!?!?!?!! Now get out of the way of the television and let me make my peace, monkey boy!"

And he's all: "Monkey boy?"

And I'm all: "WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

See what it's done to me? Best. Series. Ever.

RIP.