I once slept with Johnny Depp

I dreamt some really weird shit last night. Also the night before that AND the night before that too!

I dreamt about friends being really mean, murderers out to get me, then me murdering one of them in self defence with their own weapon which was those star disc thingamabobs that you see in the ninja movies…… It’s called a Shuriken apparently (thanks Google!) – don’t ask me to pronounce it though!

My self defence included a very detailed scene of being squirted with blood from a gashed thigh artery. I think it even went in my mouth – why would I dream something so graphic! Let me tell you it wasn’t pleasant. This is the first time I’ve had a dream like this but I often dream of mean girls and a cheating partner which generally gets my day off to a bad start. This usually involves me rolling over and whacking my husband on the shoulder with my cranky-pants-husky-morning-breath voice accusingly yelling “You cheated on me last night.” Yep, that means no morning glory sunshine coz you jumped into my dream and bed with another woman!

I used to analyse my dreams, keep a dream diary and try connect the dots. Now I am just thankful for being able to sleep and watch movies at the same time. I’ve always been a very visual and creative person so its no wonder my brain can’t shut off. If only my hand could type while I’m sleeping coz then I would be pumping out some pretty awesome best selling novels!

I once slept with Johnny Depp. He’s my hall pass. I’ve been in love with him since the late 1980’s so to finally get a chance to shag him was pretty … well it was a dream come true or not really a dream come true more truthfully just a dream. Oh well better then thigh slicing with Shurikens! Hoping Channing Tatum might visit me next 🙂

Here’s some Johnny love to brighten your Friday…….

Johnny-Depp-21JumpStreet 971212-johnny-depp acteur_johnny-depp_9_1141998498 In_Bed_With_Johnny_by_LoveJohnnyDeppClub

One Love

DRK xxx

More Toilet Inspiration

Some time ago I wrote a post called 60 Minutes Left To Live. It was a really powerful post, my most viewed of all time and still to this day it makes me adapt a new attitude after reading it while I’m having ‘one of those days’. I wrote this deep post after being inspired by a friend who lost her brother-in-law in a tragic road accident. She asked me the of the accident to write a post to remind people in her circle, in the city we live and around the world to put life into perspective. It was my honour.


Today, almost 12 months to the day since her brother-in-law died I bumped into her…. In a public restroom of all places. It was inspiring regardless of the odours emanating from the toilet a few feet behind us. Women came in to do their business only to find two other women gas bagging about life, real deep and meaningful stuff. We talked about death, the impact it makes on people – the good and the not-so good. How people change and deal with it differently. We discussed how when tragedy, death and pain enters your life so suddenly, so severely that you are forced to acknowledge who are the real people in your life. Death brings about a de-cluttering of shit, of toxic people and clears your head of judgement that may have been holding you back or stewing within you.

We spoke of my own de-cluttering as I said goodbye to Facebook which has drained me, goodbye to my business and who I have identified myself to be for such a long time and au revoir to friendships which no longer serve me and have not fulfilled me no matter how much I have immersed myself in them. Our conversation, in the space of 10 minutes in a stinking toilet block, was deeper and more real than conversation I have had with ‘friends’ over a drink.


And do you know what was an added bonus? We inspired a few other ladies who opened up on their way out of the toilet. Sharing their thoughts to two strangers who couldn’t find a more appropriate place to gasbag. It was funny yet nice to know they had something to say. So we are thinking of holding weekly meetings there if anyone is interested? We realised this is a place you can really talk deep shit and let go of your shit! Same place, same time next week ladies!

One Love

DRK xxx


Vagina Biscuits – Yep, Vagina Biscuits!

Sooooooooo ……………..

I ….ah… ummm…. well I googled ‘Vagina Biscuits’ the other day. Yep, Vagina Biscuits. Now I know you may be wondering why on earth I’d google something like that and I’ll get to the reason soon, promise. But it’s likely that you may be a lot wiser then me and already know what a Vagina Biscuit is OR what you think it is, like me who was pretty certain I knew what it was! And let me tell you what I thought it was and what it actually is according to google well lets just say VB’s are definitely not the kind of biscuits you’d share with Nana over a cup of tea!


Mmmm tasty!



Let me tell you the two things I learnt from my Google research ….

One: a vagina biscuit isn’t what I thought it was and
Two: a vagina biscuit REALLY ISN’T what I thought it was….

Which leads me to this concern…How did you get here? If you accidentally landed here then what on earth did you google to come across this post or perhaps more importantly, where have you been before you ‘innocently‘ arrived here? But assuming you are one of my loyal followers and that you are here honourably I’m telling you, especially if you are a little bit prudish like me – don’t Google Vagina Biscuits ………… Ok? You got it? Do. Not. Google. VB………………………………….



…………………………You just Googled Vagina Biscuits didn’t you?!


I said I would share the reason why I googled Vagina Biscuit in the first place but first lets shorten it to VB otherwise the word vagina is going to turn my M-rated site into an X rated 1.9.Hundred Johnny-came-lately site! So Googling started innocently enough. With a walk, a good friend and a conversation about her cervix or lack thereof. She was telling me all about these pessaries that she has to use to help her with her progesterone levels and to keep her cervix stable during pregnancy. Pessaries being the VB. A biscuit for your vagina – get it?!

As the words VB tumbled out of her mouth I giggled like a 9 year old who had just heard the word penis for the first time. “What the hell is a VB?” I had asked naively. Happy to share the details she indulged me and we both agreed that it would make a good blog … So when I got home I googled it, to get some inspiration and appropriate information, you know so I wasn’t spinning complete bullshit. Instead I ended up with a shitload of dirty words and words related to all things edible for example: fur burger, pink taco, passion fruit and my personal favourite (*insert sarcasm*) a meat wallet. There was also graphic images of VB, and a god awful song about VB on youtube by some disgusting teenager who obviously hasn’t been taught how to be a real man – his Mama would be real proud! There was nothing, and I do mean nothing, on pessaries, progesterone or cervixes!

The saying ‘learn something new everyday’ certainly applied on this particular day and if you want to know what the real definition of a VB is then head here…… http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=vagina+biscuit

This is for those who already knew what a VB was ... Now you too have learnt something new! I also thought a banana was appropriate ....

This is for those who already knew what a VB was … Now you too have learnt something new! I also thought a banana was appropriate ….

Well that’ll be enough dirty talk for one day ….

One love

DRK xxxx


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….


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!


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!


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!


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.


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