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What a pack of bitches!

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  • What a pack of bitches!



    Recently I have been on the receiving end of some written unpleasantness directed my way. I always consider such diatribe as a nod to my slide into irrelevance.

    “I used to love reading your writing..” was one such email. “But all you do now is complain about getting older and food, and you talk about your animals way too much!”

    *leans back into my ergonomic chair. Cracks knuckles. Winces in pain due to osteoarthritis. Searches the third draw down and finds the Panadol Osteo. Please see your doctor if pain persists*

    Let us begin.

    You see, Megan, the reason that the topics of my modern-day Woogie version of cuneiform have narrowed down, is that I started writing on the web when I was 34. I am now 203, and you ****ing dingback darling former reader, life goes through some substantial changes during that time.

    As a retired Australian OG Mummy Blogger, it was somewhere about 2017 I think, (please forgive my memory) a new wave PUN INTENDED of “Influencers” called INSTA MUMS, rose up like Kevin Rudd to a vaccination challenge and kicked our asses from the information super-highway.

    You really need to know when to hold them, know when to fold them, know when to surf away etc. I mean, even us old broads thought they were pretty amazing, so the white flag was raised.

    Picture Vanity Fair
    Megan, I feel like I have already bastardised my kids childhood way too much (although to be fair when I started I had no idea how it would turn out). But if I can be brutally honest, the teenage years would have provided far more interesting fodder. Oh the stories I could tell, well you could not MAKE that shit up! And that is how I went prematurely grey.

    If I was a major player in the hair dye industry, I would employ me as a spokesperson.

    Hang on.

    Why the **** am I a dollar cheaper!??


    Now I am beginning to understand the issue with not carefully planning content. I go off the point I wanted to share with y’all. (Must stop being obsessed with Sutton Stracke ok. ENOUGH)

    We got a new bitch in the hood.


    Mocha Sutton Woog nee Edwards was born on the 29th July 2019 to a Pomeranian Mother and a Shitzu Father who were both prisoners of an evil Victorian Puppy Farmer, who shall we shall now refer to as Mr Pilkington. Mocha, along with her brothers and sisters, were taken into the local vets for their 6 week check up where it was discovered that Mocha was suffering from a heart murmur.

    This rendered her unsuitable for sale, so Mr Pilkington advised the Vet to have her destroyed. The Vet, I don’t know who it was and if I did I would hold a street parade for, refused to do so. Mr Pilkington stormed off in a huff, leaving baby Mocha with the kindly practitioner.

    Because Mocha doesn’t speak English, she is unable to advise is what happened next but fate stepped in somewhere along the way and she has been happily ensconced at Woogsworld for several months now. Sure, she has a heart murmur and who knows how long she has to live but for everyday the sun rises and she is still with us, well is that not worth getting out of bed more and cleaning up dog piss?

    If you get a new puppy, toilet train it properly. VIVA LA FLOORBOARDS! We are slowly making progress folks.

    Isobel is delighted with her new sister. Dusty Springfield getting there.

    So welcome to the Pack of Bitches, Mocha! And we shall keep you too Megan, as at the end of the day, we are all God’s Creatures.

    Don’t you agree?

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