Men & The Throne

The Throne is that lovely white porcelain chair that men love to spend many hours upon and that women hate to clean and hate even more to realise after sitting upon it that it is wet! Yes, I am discussing bathroom etiquette today. Not the most invigorating post and certainly not the cleanest post I’ll ever do but it’s worth a discussion at least especially considering I have five boys in my household AND I was also brought up in a family with four boys. Kinda makes me qualified don’t you think….

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In general, I believe and please correct me if I am wrong, chairs were designed to be sat upon not stood in front of flashing your …. errrrm … manhood. Chairs are designed to cradle your derrière, be heightened for you to sit with legs bent comfortably at a 90(ish) degree angle and so your feet reach the floor with physical ease – unless of course you are four and 3 feet tall so you dangle them precariously over the edge all the while at risk of falling butt first into the big hole of what is certainly dirty water. This particular white, porcelain chair happens to be a functional piece in another sense and offers a spacious hole in it to allow things to … er… umm…. flow. It’s a pretty big hole but then I guess there are some pretty big arseholes out there too!

Now one of my all time favourite pastimes is having five minutes to myself which is rare (although I am typing this now while sitting at the hairdressers) ….. But that ‘5 minutes of peace’ never includes ladies room visits and that is for two reasons …. 1) What mother ever got a 5 minute break while using the ladies room? This seems to be the meeting place for discussions of: Muuumm X poked Y in the eye, Muuuuuumm Y laughed at X for tripping over and Muuuuuuuuuuummm Y said a swear word – at which point you’re out the door, pants around the ankle only to find out the ‘swear word’ was poobumwee. The second reason 5 minutes peace does not exist in my house while in the ladies room is, and I did mention it, I have five boys. Included in this equation is my husband. They should always be included because generally husbands are just another child who requires lots of one-on-one attention and care but with one massive point of difference you also have to have sex with them, put that on your memo ladies!

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So in theory with five boys there comes at least 15 drops of pee per peeing/shaking session unless it’s the first morning pee then you can almost certainly guarantee there is going to be piss all over the place coz somehow, overnight, their junk grew and the seat shrunk! Lets do the mathematics 15 drops x 5 boys x 5 pees a day equals .. well a urine coated seat, floor and if you’re lucky wall! So this brings forward the discussion – should we be teaching our boys to sit? My answer in flashing desperate neon lights is a big, fat yes!

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They are capable of bending and sitting to do number two’s without any dramas so why can’t they do that for number one’s? Sitting lets the law of gravity help that dingle dangle down where it should and then there are no drips dropped on the seat where the ladies sit. There will never be an argument about putting the toilet seat down, no lady roars when the girls of the house have sat on someone else’s pee because they didn’t even put the seat up in the first place, no whinges and whines when the boys are asked to clean up their ‘mess’ and there will be peace. love and harmony throughout the house.

tlt-useMakes sense doesn’t? This is of course unless you are so well endowed that your member bungee jumps head first into the water but with a member that long you shouldn’t be missing the gapping big hole in the throne now should you? Also when you are using a public restroom do as you please, stand up and pee, show your manhood and beat your fists on your chest I don’t care coz your dribble then isn’t my arses problem. Oh and a urinal – definitely continue standing for this as sitting may be somewhat uncomfortable.

So do you or will you teach your boys to sit?

One love,

DRK xxx

The Break-Up

I’ve recently decided to only keep what I need or love in my life and the first thing to go was Facebook! I’ve always known, though I’d never have admitted it, what a massive time wasting lack of substance, technology induced, application it is for an addict like me! It is like opening a bottle of Scotch, pouring it slowly and deliberately over ice, placing it under the nose of an alcoholic and telling them not to look at it, not to smell it, not to desire it or be angry at it. It’s unkind and impossible to ignore. A few days in and with so much more time in my days I know that it is real connection I crave. I need real people. People who are actually my friends, who know me and what I am up to, who will stop me in the street, embrace me and light up when chatting to me. They know how to pick up the phone and call me, in fact they have my number! They knock on my door and really do ‘like’ my new haircut because they say “I like your new haircut”. They ask me with a real life voice if I am ok, how I’m doing and love to know what’s new with me. That is what human interaction is all about!

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I am over watching other people’s lives but not my own. Living everyone else’s dreams while I’m not even sure what mine are. I am no longer needing to see what everyone is up to, see the breathtaking food they cook, how amazingly they care for their children and how perfect their husbands are. I’m tired of comparing myself and feeling like I am coming off second best, I no longer want to see how much life has now become a competition and I feel no desire to put myself out there to be judged or deliver an image of myself that isn’t true or real because really these are all just snippets – like a trailer of a movie when you only see the good bits only to find out the real movie is quite a disappointment.

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Too many people are too busy taking photos and videos to ‘share’ with friends rather then just being in the moment. Nobody needs proof that I was at the bestest ever dinner party on the weekend or that my amazing and super skilled son score the first (and only) goal at soccer – unless of course I am a murder suspect and need a solid alibi I suppose!

And it’s not just Facebook that I no longer need but also the gazillion subscriber emails that I have flooding my account daily all with the latest trends, deals, bargains or inspirational blah-di-blahs – yep unsubscribed all of those mofos!!

I’ve also quit my business so I can concentrate on my three necessities: my family, my health, my writing. These are my passions. I no longer have to prove I can do it all or that to be a woman in the 21st century that I even have to do it all because while we are doing it all we are not doing one of those things well.

I’ve noticed in the short time I’ve been on my break from Facebook that I am much clearer. I have more time. I know the friendships I will keep will be the friendships filled with substance and genuity. Having 234 friends may seem like you have many people who care for you but essentially you are sharing your chosen and specific information with virtual people. And all this information is stored, analysed and manipulated by Facebook to target you with advertising, to entice you to click on things, to sell you shit all so they make money (and lots of it). This, do you know, was once called a breach of privacy. They spy on you, while you stalk others – it’s a crazy world! So, perhaps with each new ‘friend request’ we accept the less we bond to the real and true parts of human interaction. This is called regression and disconnection not progression and connection, Facebook just wants you to believe that.

One love,
DRK xxx