Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Triptych Reflections


I am having to rethink the blog - not because I've run out of things to say - far from it - but my new job as the official Red Cross schmoozer of parliamentarians means I have to be a bit more considered about issues I write about, particularly my whimsical and oft hip-shot political opines.

Speaking of which - isn't China going to be v. interesting over the next few weeks? How organised are the Tibetans? Or the people who have lost their homes in favour of grand olympic stadiums? The world is watching....I can't wait!

So, in the meantime, while I rethink this inky blot in cyberspace, please enjoy these three pics taken at the Glastonbury festival with my lomo. I have decided they are a triptych in the manner of fete galante and am thinking of entering them in the Glasto pic competition. It's called
L'embarquement pour Glastonbury (if you click on the pic it will enlarge and you can look at it properly...) and was taken at sunrise on Sunday morning at the stone cirlce sacred space at Worthy Farm.






Saturday, June 21, 2008

Dedicated to nephew Matt

Congratulations to Jude and Trev on the birth of Matthew James Thomas on May 31. Welcome to this wonderful world Matty! To celebrate, here's a fabulous sequel to Where the Hell is Matt? You can see the first video by clicking on the Travel Bug link on the left of the blog under Videos of the week.

What a deliciously simple idea by Matt that has taken YouTube by storm!!


Monday, June 02, 2008

The She-Wee and other Glorious Inventions

It's festival time in Europe and that can only mean one thing: standing in a long line next to half cut chicks waiting for your turn at the stinky port-a-loo. Frankly, going to the dunny in a port-a-loo at music festivals is only marginally better than listening to Mika, but I guess when both acts are finished, there is a major sense of relief. Which is why I have invested in a She-Wee, my very own detachable penis. That's right - nothing is sacred in the noughties - chicks are now weeing standing up.

You will now find female urinals at festivals and once you've put in a few pennies to Water Aid, you join your fellow wymmin to have a crack at not showing it. No more sticking yer arse to the wind and hoping that your shoes won't get wet - you just wave the magic peni towards the sink and once you've got over doing the opposite of which nature intended, you can trot past the long line at the port-a-loo with your She-Wee tucked magically away in your back pocket.



Not content with a penis in your pocket, the discerning festival going chick will also have designer wellington boots on her feet. Being summer means lots and lots and lots of torrential rain, so it's the fashion to have fancy boots. I choose to wear Chooka boots imported from the USA for those of us with narrow feet. Oh it's a cruel god that gives you narrow feet and fat thighs.....
Rock Ness next weekend and Glastonbury in three weeks time. A mix of old timers like Neil Diamond and Leonard Cohen (was pleased to see he was still alive actually) and some new bands like the Ting Tings and Cut Copy.

I'm excited!

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

10mm hexagonal key for nuts


Yes, that's right, if you buy the Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife you will be able try the 10mm hexagonal key for nuts - a most handy device for when you want to tighten your bike spokes. You can then take your newly tightened bike for a wee ride in the bush, where you may require the useful double-cut wood saw with ruler in inches and centimetres to cut away those nasty fallen branches covering the bike paths. Once you've finished sawing, you'll need to replenish your tired body with a bevvy and a cuban cigar - just as well the Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife comes complete with bottle opener and cupped cigar cutter with double-honed edges! It's time to throw away your old Victoria Knox with it's pissy knife, bottle opener and scissors and invest in a Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife.

Ever wanted to keep a laser pointer in your pocket as well as a shortix laboratory key,
telescopic pointer, fish scaler, hook disgorger, laser pointer with 300 ft range and a golf shoe spike wrench? Well now you can with the amazing Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife!

For those romantic forest hikes, you can impress your lady friend by making her a gem stone ring enroute! It's easy with the Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife. With your handy mineral crystal magnifier with precision screw driver, micro scraper - straight, micro scraper - curved and the recently patented
spring-loaded, locking flat nose-nose pliers with wire cutter, you can eradicate your feelings of commitment phobia and ask her to marry you with your hand made quartz ring! She won't want anyone else!

And you don't want any other pocket knife. You can have all this for the amazing price of
£499.95! That's like less than £7 million!!! What a bargain!

And if you buy this now, you can get the incredible wet dry Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife carry case by clicking here!




Thursday, May 22, 2008

If Troy Buswell was a teacher....


Would he use this sticker?

Best opening sentence
:

"THE destabilisation of Western Australia's chair-sniffing Liberal leader Troy Buswell intensified yesterday when he was forced to deny a rumour peddled by his own MPs that he mistreated a quokka, a small furry marsupial native to Rottnest Island".
Poor old Buswell. A sad state of affairs in WA that he's the best the Libs have got.

Monday, May 19, 2008

The Yoof of Today



There were some gremlins in this but it's fixed now.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

France

That's where I've been for the past wee while. I've brought home some 1973 Burgundy wine and lots of champagne. A tres fab 'oliday that included Mamma et Pappa and the trois J's - Jamie, Jeannie et Jasper. I'll write more later - this is just to let you know that I am still alive and did not get sucked into the travelers' vortex that is Beauvais Airport, the worst airport in Europe.

In the meantime, please enjoy the Dolmio pasta sauce adverts that have been dubbed for Glasgwegian tastes.....



PS - Grannie is unfortunately in hospital so I sent her some flowers today along with a note:

Dear Grannie
I heard you cracked your vertebrae
Hope these flowers make your day
Love Alison

This was read over the phone at work, which included instructions such as:
"V.E.R.T.E.B.R.A.E."
"Alison with one L".
That's Grannie with an IE not a Y.
"G.R.A.N.N.I.E."
"No, that was one L not two." and
"No, the L is in Alison. A.L.I.S.O.N. Grannie doesn't have an L."
much to the amusement of my work colleagues.



Thursday, April 24, 2008

Remembering Remembrance

There have been some memorable ANZAC day ceremonies in my life so I thought I'd share them, given that ANZAC day isn't very big in Glasgow. I think it is one of those days where, like Australia Day, I feel not at ease. On one hand, I'm incredibly sad that so many young men gave their lives for a stupid stupid war - senseless, wasteful, stupid. On the other, I dread the bogan element coming to the fore, flags draped and heads bowed in pseudo penitence unsuccessfully hiding blatant nationalism. I have gone to dawn services most years, although not recently because I've been overseas.

The Funniest Dawn Service:
Attending Dawn Service in Bunbury was always quite good because it was generally pretty relaxed. You could wake up at 5.45, be at the service for 6am and back in bed by 6.30. Unless there was a spontaneous street party which is what happened in 2002. After the Ode:

They shall not grow old, as we that are left to grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

came the one minute silence which in Bunbury was generally followed by the Last Post (most dawn ceremonies have a gun salute followed by the Reveille which traditionally woke the soldiers up, but Bunbury was too small for a gun salute for fear of ricochets or rednecks turning up with their own shotguns). Well, this minute silence went on forever. There was no Last Post until eventually someone hummed it through pursed lips. Bunbury's only bugler had been on a bender the night before and had slept in. None of the organisers had noticed he was missing. Somebody then started singing Waltzing Matilda and another crew took out some beers and that was it. Party in the park. The following year he slept in his uniform at a mate's house, with an alarm clock, a wake up call and a rooster.....

The smallest dawn service
Richard, Michael and I were in Manchester for Rich's bucks weekend in 2004. We had hired a convertible beetle and after driving around in London's taxi and bus zone with a blow up kangaroo in the back, we headed for Britain's birthplace of dance music (how ironic that we were driving a German car....). I knew we'd be up all night discotheque-ing on the 24th, so had arranged a surprise dawn service for my mates. As Rich's best man, I wanted to make it a weekend to remember, so I had packed a couple of ANZAC posters kindly donated by the Bunbury RSL (who were ecstatic that I was planning a DIY service) and a laminated poster of the Ode. On the way home, we stopped in a central park and much to the boys' amusement (and about 20 puzzled onlookers) we held an ANZAC service with the posters spread around us.

The hard-core dawn service
Some time in the eighties a bunch of friends who may have also been Venturer scouts decided it would be a good idea to ride from Applecross to Kings Park for the dawn service. At the age of 16, it was difficult enough getting up in normal hours, let alone stupid o'clock. And there was a strong easterly making the ride not very pleasant. And I think I ripped my scout uniform falling over when navigating the curly part of a footbridge.

The 13 step dawn service
It was a privilege to guard the memorial in Kings Park. Each Rover unit (scouts for people who don't grow up) had to nominate 4 people to do a half hour stint of marching around the memorial. Our unit always seemed to get 3am or 4am. The older we got, the more likely we were to go into Northbridge, party at a club, then rock up to do a swift clothing change that transformed us from nouveau ravers into para-military disciples. There are massive orange flood lights in each corner of the memorial and these are not pleasant to walk over because the light really does blind you. This, combined with trying to be sensible after a night on the town, in what was a sombre occasion marching around in circles for the state, does not bode well for a fun 30 minute walk. We worked out if you kept your eyes closed and counted thirteen steps, all you needed to do was turn sharply left and you wouldn't fall off.

The traffic light vigil
For some reason, we would guard the Mosman Park memorial on the corner of Stirling Highway and Leake St all night before the dawn service there. I think the idea was to have scouts milling around to stop hippy peacenik vandals. This vigil involved just 2 scouts standing next to the memorial in half hour stints holding a stave. There was a deli across the road with the time and temperature. We would watch the temperature go down throughout the night and woop each time it changed, laying bets over who would have the coldest stint. When you tired of wooping, you could lean over and push the "walk" button on the lights with your stave. We had great pleasure in pressing this button all night, causing cars to stop in the dead of night for no apparent reason. Sometimes we got yelled at....

Upon re-reading this entry, it would seem that there is my own bogan element to ANZAC day, but I prefer to think of it as a legacy of Aussie larrakin and mateship.....

Monday, April 14, 2008

Dessert Recipe: Poached Pears with Chilli and Balsamic

Readers who loved the Lemon Something French Thingy on a previous blog entry are in for a treat! Back by popular demand, it's Recipe of the Week and this week I'm pleased to present this pear recipe I prepared for a pair of parents - mine to be precise. Mamma et Pappa arrived yesterday and so, being the foodies that they are, I had to impress them with my culinary skills.

This recipe is invented by me. I am laying claim to it, so bugger off Nigella.

Poached Pears with Chilli and Balsamic
Serves 4

  • 4 pears, or two pairs of pears, pared. I chose Conference Pears because they are long and slender and elegant.
  • Cranberry juice
  • Sugar
  • Balsamic vinegar
  • birds eye chilli (red)
  • marscarpone
You'll notice that I haven't given any measurements. The correct measurement for all ingredients in this recipe is a bung.

Get a birds eye red chilli (I keep mine in the freezer and then bung it in some hot water to unfreeze it). You need to be careful here because you don't want your dessert to turn into a curry. I just got a pair of kitchen scissors and cut about a third of the chilli into tiny pieces and bunged them straight into the pan, sans seeds. Under no circumstances should you use sweet chilli sauce or cheat's chilli. That would be rank.

Carefully place the pears on their sides in the pan and bung in some cranberry juice. This bung would go halfway up the pear shaped bit of the pear.

Next, bung in some balsamic - not too much, it ain't chish and fips. Bung in some sugar (caster if poss.) and put the lid on the pan and give it a bit of a shake. I poured some of the juice over the pears so the top bits wouldn't miss out. Taste the juice just to make sure you haven't fucked it up. Too much chilli and it's a curry, too little and what's the point.....With it on a low heat, walk away and go and have your main course, which you should have prepared earlier.

When you're half way through your dinner and the conversation has turned to the political situation in Tibet, check on the pears. That way you won't look stupid if you can't contribute to the conversation.

Go back and change the subject, and don't forget to check on the pears again at some point.

When you reckon they're ready, dish the pears into bowls. If there's too much juice, put the heat up high and reduce it.

Serve with marscarpone cheese (try and find good quality marscarpone). I added a few rasberries as well. The sourness of the chilli and balsamic goes beautifully with the sweetness of the pear.

I used the remainder of the chilli the next day to make honey soy chilli prawns with bok choi.

Disclaimer:
1) picture not actually my pear.
2) may contain nuts

Sunday, April 13, 2008

The Black Watch




As Jock and I don't have a telly, we've decided to see more theatre this year. There are times when you are so moved by a piece of theatre that the experience will stay with you for a long time. One of those times was when I saw Orpheus in the Underwold at His Maj in Perth about a hundred years ago and the other was being privileged enough to see The Black Watch in Glasgow on Friday night.

If you ever have the chance to see this inspiring play by Gregory Burke, then you are in for a treat.
The production is cleaver and slick, with the central prop being a pool table that doubles as an army vehicle. You can feel the exhaustion of 8 men crammed into it sweating out their dispair on a 50 degree day.

The production and script is what makes this political play one that will be done over and over again. The script is deeply funny and dark. However, some of the most powerful and poignant lines are delivered in sign language, when the soldiers receive their letters from home. Each stands on his own, reading messages that loved ones can often only say in written words.

One hilarious scene involves a new soldier being told about the importance of a piece of blank paper to a soldier's kit. He remains unconvinced, until this piece of paper is waved at the seargent major as a "get out of jail" free card.

The desert storm fatigues and their colours are dominant, with the only other colour being red - red carpet, red pool table and the red hackle in their tam-o-shanters.

I have never seen a play like it. A fabulous fabulous piece of theatre.

PS - if you want to see a lovely film and one that you can take your mum to, try Son of Rambow.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

The Elephant in the Room



John Howard would never have stood up in front of a group of Chinese students in Beijing and said that human rights in Tibet was a concern for Australians. Good on Chairman Rudd! Although he did borrow the whole "it's okay for friends to disagree sometimes" line from Howard when the very predictable Chinese Government Spokesperson responded by saying that Rudd didn't know what he was talking about. I'm sure they'll quickly forget once they start playing Chinese Whispers over owning a stake in BHP Billiton.

Glad Australia has a PM who can speak Mandarin. I think it is right for him to tell China that Australians are concerned about human rights. I wonder what the athletes from the Olympic movement think about the protests over the torch relay? If you go on to you tube it has been flooded with comments from Chinese students banging on about King Gesar and that we shouldn't be fooled by that terrible man, the Deli Lamb Burger.

In other news just to hand:
  • we're off to see the play Black Watch on the weekend which I am very much looking forward to
  • I subscribe to poem of the week and today they sent me one called "Impatience" that was so long, I didn't bother reading it
  • today I went up to Inverness to discuss Scotland's Climate Change Bill. There is snow in the hills and it's April. This time last year it was 20 degrees. You know it doesn't make sense; we're all doomed
  • on the up side though, there were no midgies

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Stupid

Things that are stupid:
Morrisons
The way Morrisons packages its bananas. I bought one just to take a photo and post it here. Disgraceful - global warming? climate change? landfill? birds eating plastic? Doesn't happen in Partick.....You can email the CEO of Morrisons with your fury by clicking here.
I used the Investor Services site, because we are all invested in our future. Copy and paste this into your email:

Dear Sir Ken Morrison
I am disturbed by the level of excessive packaging for your bananas. Bananas already have their own protective skin and do not nee
d another. I would like to invest in the future of the planet but do not wish to invest in your company whilst you continue to have this ridiculous policy.
Regards, Your Name Goes Here


eBayers
See the pic - somebody bought a Sony Play Station box for two hundred bucks!!

Kilt wearers

How embarrassed would you be....Here on my right is Lieutentant Seargent Captain Major and his boys....

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Players


Sorry for the delay in writing again....it's been a very hectic and stressful time. So, this entry is dedicated to.. Players - those amazing, innovative and oft funny people who entertain us. I find it is the not so famous players that I have the best and most memorable experiences.

We were fortunate enough to catch Nouvelle Vague, a French act in Perth on the evening of Jock's dad's funeral. French women always seem to be able to pull off being saucy and sexy without being slutty. This band does versions of '80s alternative hits like The Specials and The Dead Kennedy's. During Too Drunk to Fuck by the Kennedy's - one of Jock's favourite songs and something he kept threatening to have as the bridal waltz - one of the singers came down into the crowd and handed Jock a wee dram...how serendipitous given the day. Here is Nouvelle Vague doing Blue Monday by New Order - one of my favourite songs:



I love that French voice - Ah see a sheip in ze 'arbour... These players were the perfect end to Jock's dad's day.....

Inevitably, one always turns to the little screen of delight in the back of the seat in front of you during the monotonous and wearisome plane trip home. It is here that I am even more thankful for the players who prevent you from slipping into wrist-slitting tedium. I chose Singing in the Rain. I happen to think that Gene Kelly was out danced by Donald O'Connor in this movie. A favourite scene and surely one of the best of all time in any classic movie:



So I raise my glass to players, who you turn to when you're feeling glum or you want to chillout or just go absolutely burlesque...where would the world be without you? The famous, the not so famous and the just plain bizarre. I love how you can be anywhere in the world and just happen upon a player busking or in a small pub sharing their soul with you - like the time Mike and I were in Edinburgh for hogmanay and there was a group of drummers in the midst of a million new year revelers - drumming into new year when the fireworks went off over the castle - they made our night.

Here then, in no particular order, are youtubes of some players whom I admire, or have seen live, or have watched on the box. Enjoy.

Tim Minchin - funny singer and all round entertainer (it was difficult to chose which vid...)
Flight of the Conchords - hahahahahahaha - it's business time!
Billy Bragg- all you need is a guitar
The Waifs - still in London...
Pendulum - my favourite band and the boys from Perth are just getting bigger and bigger
Adam Hills - a Scottish flavour to this clip
Burlesque dancers - here's Dita and an over-sized wine glass.
Waiting for Godot - in recognition that this is the most boring play on earth, so why then is it the play that you have watched over and over again??? Jock says he's seen it 5 times but has never paid to see it....Sculler says they should make a new version for the noughties - "waitingforgo.com"
Madonna - I saw this very act live. I can watch it over and over and over. Thanks to Benny and Bjorn....and the dancing at 3mins25sec HOT HOT HOT...not bad for a 50 year old.


Monday, February 25, 2008

John Paterson Meston 7 May 1934 - 23 February 2008

Jock's father died on Saturday. He'd been in a coma for 8 days. We all marveled at the human body and what it can do to survive. It's a very sad time to be back in Australia, but it's mixed with relief, for John would not have wanted to live a life with no quality or purpose. It's all been a bit of a haze, because a few days ago we were in Glasgow in baltic weather conditions working and lining up far too long at the post office, and suddenly we were home in Australia in the heat and sea breeze.

Watching Jock's mum say good bye to her life partner was a beautiful thing....I hope Jock and I get the same privilege (although not any time soon....)

Today we ate succulent kangaroo on sticks whilst watching the sun set over the Fremantle harbour. Who could ask for anything more?

Pic - Jock's father, John Mesto , pictured (left) with John's brother Ross, (who died in 2007)


Saturday, February 16, 2008

The Apology


We listened live on Radio National to the Apology. It was very intense and I wished I was in Australia for this day. A fellow Aussie workmate (called Dave) and I were talking about it the next day and were surprised about the reaction from other colleagues. They were saying what a momentous thing it was and what a pleasure it was to see Australia doing and saying something right instead of sitting on the fence or tapping into the worst qualities of human nature.

Me mate Dave said that for us, the big thing that we remembered at school was the bicentennial. We were given commemorative coins and sang songs and drew pictures of Captain Cook. How fitting it is that this generation will remember the day Australia said sorry and began the process of reconciling the past. I'm still very angry about being taught rubbish history in school. We were never taught about the genocide, the removal of children and its consequences - only that Captain Phillip gave Aboriginal people presents such as blankets in swap for showing them where there was water.

Let's hope that some real gains can now be made in closing the gap between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australian life expectancy and outcomes.

Rudd's speech was beautiful and eloquent. Dr Nelson's speech, and I'm not being partisan here, was disjointed and not thought through properly at all. He should not have personalised it, he should not have told Fay Cooper's story without permission, and using statements such as "Welfare without responsibility" was prevocative and chiding. I think Australians angered by this had every right to turn their backs or clap their hands. I had a friend who was on the lawn at Parliament House and said that this reaction was spontaneous, not predetermined because Nelson was part of the Howard cabinet.

I think it's great that workers were encouraged to participate, watch it live or come into work late that morning, school children watched it in assemblies and people gathered in small tin sheds in Broome to come together to celebrate this new beginning.

In other news...

I'm loving my job at the Red Cross - what a pleasure it is to work in a supportive environment with people passionate about their jobs. I'm off to London today to play with friends on the weekend and go to the British Red Cross UK office to meet my colleagues. I am a much happier person in my new job.




Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Dave by Mick - our trip to Florence


We lovingly dubbed Michaelangelo's David Dave by Mick but that seemed slightly offensive once we actually stood in front of this imposing work. I expected it to be person sized, or Venus de Milo sized, but it was almost Leninesq in stature and for once in my life, I was speechless. The Galleria dell'Accademia was surprisingly quiet enabling us to marvel at our mate Dave for a good fifteen minutes before a noisy group of American history students ambled in. If you do wish to see the real Dave by Mick you can click on this link which will take you to shopping heaven, the Raptis Plaza in Surfers Paradise, where a life size replica of David takes pride of place between Hungry Jacks and a group of Emos wagging school.

Earlier in the day we visited the Uffizi Gallery where once again, we were mesmerised by Botticelli's Birth of Venus and the murals on the ceiling.

We were, however, somewhat bored of Ubiquitous Religious Painting by Some Bloke. There's only so much one can take after seeing painting after painting of the Madonna with Child, which is mostly painted in gaudy colours with the Jesus always looking slightly demonic. I think this is due to artists painting the nose of said saviour with an adult's bridge, rather than a cutesy little button. There was one such painting with a portrayal of John the Baptist piccolo bambino holding a cross gazing lovingly up at baby Jesus. Can someone who is more religious than I enlighten me if the Cross was used prior to the crucifixion of Christ (yes, aware of it as a symbol of man/woman in ancient pagan traditions) or whether Some Bloke was using artistic licence in this painting.

It seemed that this period of such hideous amounts of disposable cash drew upon the pious nature of the wealthy, where art was commissioned on a one upmanship basis of who had the biggest and most religious bed head commissioned by the more favoured artist ala mode.

Other highlights of our trip included the Leaning Tower of Pisa (a slightly dizzy ascent due to leaning nature), wandering around the narrow streets of Pisa and eating gelato.

You may remember I awarded Paris Beauvais Airport the worst airport in Europe. Pisa International is the best so far, as seen here in the picture by its mascot....and as Jock points out....if only they knew how to spell "chicken" correctly.....

Monday, January 14, 2008

You Spin Me Right Round Baby


In politics, there's a number of ways to say to your good friends in the press that you're mounting a challenge against your beleaguered leader. One of those ways is to say "I'm mounting a leadership challenge". This is of course the quickest and most effective way, but rarely is it used.

Another way to say you're mounting a challenge is to take a leaf from the book of Member for Busso, Troy "I'm big in Japan" Buswell:

“I'll be saying to [Omedei] that there is an overwhelming view among the membership that we need to draw a line in the sand and move forward and as part of that process needs to be the calling of a party room meeting so that a variety of issues be discussed in the appropriate forum by the members of the Liberal Party here in WA,” Mr Buswell told reporters.

The Liberal Party in WA is a mess and has been since Richard Court departed. It reminds me of the time when Australia was doing so well in cricket the one day summer series was against itself; Australia A. Do we need a Labor A? Why could this bunch of navel gazing, infighting, policy vacuum school boys manage to hold it together for the Federal election? I don't get it.

In the meantime, please enjoy this somewhat apt video by Dead or Alive, You Spin Me Right Round.


Monday, January 07, 2008

Cat-tastic! A wig for all occasions!

It's me and Jock's wedding anniversary tomorrow. Jock's never enjoyed buying presents, so being the girl who has everything, I directed him to Kitty Wigs where you can buy your cat a wig....

Meowandering down the catwalk is Cher, sporting a jazzy blue number, selling for just fifty bucks. She has teamed this wig with a lovely pastel flea collar. As you can see, Cher is gazing out the window, dreaming of butterflies and small birds learning how to fly for the first time.....

And now, pawing at her heels is Miss Piggy, the epitome of the slutty cheerleader wearing this wig, inspired by the Pink Ladies from Grease. She's up for anything! Actually, the website says "Pink is the color of fantasy. Our model, Chicken (for that is her name....), looks like her mind is elsewhere when she wears this wig -- somewhere in a land of cotton candy and pinwheels where the air smells like sugar kisses". I think it's more likely she's thinking somewhere in the a land of "are you fucking mental" where the air smells like "does your house have fifty cats living in it?"

It goes on:

"Please remember, Kitty Wigs should only be used with human supervision, and introduced slowly. The package also includes complete instructions for care, suggestions from professional photographers, and a mouse with rattle to help you direct Kitty's stunned gaze. When not in use, the wig should always be stored in its pawproof case".

Yep - Kitty is sure going to have a stunned gaze, probably followed by a hissing sound and a jab at your throat.

If you have any further questions about haute cature, please click here.