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January 3, 2013 / fruitloopmum

2013…..It’s all about ME Sweetie!


It’s not the first time the similarities between Fruitloopmum, her Bestie and the AbFab girls have been observed. Here’s the scene at dawn in Sydney on New Years Day 2013….

Patsy wakes because her bladder is fit to burst. A comatose Ed sleeps adjacent beneath a white sheet, making the back of the black station wagon look even more like a bleedin hearse. Pats rips the sheet from Eds slumbering form to cover her arse as the street-sweeping truck passes….

So began 2013.

See? This is what happens when you put a couple of very cute, incredibly sexy, freshly-single women together with a bucket of Mojitos on New Years Eve….and they very sensibly decide not to drive but sleep in the car.

So, we clamber into the front, find the keys,our underwear and purses and drive to the nearest McDonalds….on the basis that we can’t possibly knock on the front door of the lady whose driveway we were blocking and demand to use her toilet….

Ed puts her underwear back on in Macca’s car park and we saunter into the restaurant which is surprisingly busy with young teenagers at 6.30am.
“Act nonchalant Pats, cos they wont much like us coming in just to use their bathroom”
” OK sweetie, how’s my hair?”
” Like a friggin rats nest after a cyclone, but if we’re quick, no one will notice us”

Yeah, right….

The look on diners faces as we slinked between tables towards the bathroom at the back resembled a stunned audience at their first ever crap-your-pants horror movie. Burgers stopped before they reached lips, coffee was spilled down fronts and I swear, one poor startled girl’s mouth was open in a silent scream. I gave her my best reassuring grin but it didn’t improve things.

Anyways, after the living dead’s visit to McDonalds, we hit the road in quiet contemplation. Or maybe it was the hangovers and the realisation that we are so bleeding old and life is so bloody short.

“So, what’s your new year’s resolution then Pats?”

” Well, after broken hearts, toxic relationships and shovelling so much crap in 2012, I think we should make a pact that unless something enriches or enhances our lives, we should LET IT GO!”

“Oooooooh yeah, we’ll ONLY do positive empowering stuff….and cut down on the ciggies….and the alcohol”

“Well, maybe the ciggies, but NOT the Bolly sweetie….we’re far too old for cold turkey”

“OK, it’s a deal. 2013 will be all about ME (well us)
…….pass a ciggie”

So after careful deliberation I can announce that the Aussie equivalent of Patsy and Eddie are taking no prisoners in 2013.

Now THAT is enough to scare the crap outta anyone.

Well until we become enlightened and focus on world peace and free love courtesy of Pats taking up meditation!


December 19, 2012 / fruitloopmum

Fruitloopmum’s Xmas Recipe

Christmas Champagne Cake

Seasons greetings Fruitloopmum fans! This cake is an absolute must for Christmas…..

Ingredients: 1 cup sugar, half pound butter, 1 tsp baking powder, 1 cup water, 1 tsp salt , 1 cup brown sugar, lemon juice, 4 large eggs, nuts, 2 bottles good quality champagne , 2 cups dried fruit, 4 cups self-raising flour. Method: Sample a glass of champagne to check quality. Take a large bowl, check the champagne again to be sure it is of the highest quality then repeat. Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add 1 teaspoon of sugar, measure it very, very accurately but use a big teaspoon, not one of them tiny bastards. Beat again. At this point, it is best to make sure the Champagne is still ok. Try another glass just in case.

Turn off the mixerer thingy. Break 2 eggs and add to the bowl and chuck in a shit-load of the dried fruit. Pick the fruit up off the floor, wash it and put it in the bowl a piece at a time trying to count it. Mix on the turner. If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers, just pry it loose with a drewscriver,  Sample the champagne to test for tonsisticity.
Next, sift 2 cups of salt, or some other white powdery crap, dussnt matter. Check the champagne. Now shit shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts. Add one table. Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find. Greash the oven. Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over. Don’t forget to beat off the turner. Finally, throw the bowl through the fekkin window.
Finish of the champagne and wipe the counter with the fekin dog . 
Much love to my gorgeous girlfriend who has tested and perfected this recipe and Merry Frikkin Christmas to you one and all!
October 11, 2012 / fruitloopmum

Wild Optimism or Total Freakin Madness?

Where’ve I been? What about writing entertaining blogs? Writing about Sex? Finishing that damn novel?

Well, I could regale you with tales of more friggin house moves and witness boxes, but you’d probably all just glaze over and die of boredom. So I’ve decided to do something mad and EXPOSE MYSELF!!

Nope, you’re not gonna get Fruitloopmum in the raw I’m afraid because quite frankly, I don’t think you could stand that kind of excitement and horror. But just this once I thought I’d expose the ongoing undercurrent of my life because it’s topical. It’s in the media AND to my mind the whole domestic violence/children’s rights issue needs exposing!!!

You see, my head and my time have been elsewhere for the past few months trying to fathom out whether I really am quite, quite mad in believing that I can make a difference. And here’s the scenario….I have two little fruitloops in total distress over spending time with their father. It’s heartbreaking to see; to hear the pleading and to know that my ability to do anything to help them is limited. The legal system here in Australia, and certainly their father will say that I’m making this up. That I am in fact MAD as a hatter, LOOPY even and trying to alienate my children from their dad.


I believe that all children deserve to have the love, care and protection of both parents wherever possible. But sometimes life doesn’t work out that way. Something is VERY wrong when my children are so distressed. As a mum, I’d be totally mad if I didn’t try to do something. I’m a FruitloopMUM for chrissakes!!!

Soooo, rather than write blogs or novels I’ve been spending countless hours going over old diaries, opening old wounds and producing distressing affidavits and evidence. And then I’ve had to take everything to court and fought hard to get permission for the little fruitloops to have counselling and ascertain the source of their distress.

Why cant their GP just send them to a counsellor?

Because as any good psycho will tell you…….No-one must know the truth about the havoc they wreck on the lives of others and they will do ANYTHING to ensure that their behaviour is never exposed. This obviously includes blocking (in the name of parental rights) any psychological help for their own children FFS…..

But this particular psycho has chosen the wrong Fruitloopmum to tangle with.

I’m one resilient and stubborn biatch…..although some might call it madness, I prefer to think of  it as mad bravery.

AND when it comes to the wellbeing of my children you’d better NOT MESS WITH ME.

Anyway, it’s not over yet, and, while I’ve been bobbing up and down in a witness-box whilst being interrogated by a self-represented psycho…. stuff about children’s rights and Family Law has hit the media here in Australia and Italy. Today I was sent this email from the National Child Protection Alliance NO WAY OUT BUT ONE which just happens to cover a high-profile case where I’ve been on the receiving end of the same bloody judge!!

And, this link to a new, award-wining documentary trailer bares frightening similarity to the situation I’ve been quietly living for the last few years. Give it a click if you want 2 mins of unbelievable, scary, this could happen to you, shit. I kid you not, because I’m living it.

When faced with life’s harder lessons, this Fruitloop  gravitates towards wild optimism while those around her shake their heads and call me mad. Even my closest friends who know my story, shake their heads incredulously and exclaim “But you must be able to do something surely!?” They have no idea that now, in many countries including this one, the “rights of the father” under family law often supersede the voices of children. And often with disastrous results.

My kids look to me to care for and protect them. So, you tell me….

Am I MAD to have wild optimism and believe in truth and justice and the voices of children?

Or just plain Freakin Mad to be doggedly fighting a Family Law System that has swung too far away from the children it is supposed to be caring for?

Hit the comments box, share the links and re-post  because there are lots of us silently battling what appears to be a very unjust and biased Family Law System where the voices of children are not heard.


It would be nice to think that your comments, shares or re-posts might give some hope and much-needed courage to others who are too scared or intimidated to speak out.

July 11, 2012 / fruitloopmum

Blow-torches, Bananas and Burning Dogs

Now, I’ve been the very grateful recipient of some weird and wonderful presents in the past.

Think beauty masks laden with extract of sheep’s umbilical cord….. sent by a girlfriend who was concerned that I looked a bit peaky, a blow-torch from the boyfriend…..cos I admitted to being a bit of a pyromaniac, a granny-style slanket (blanket with armholes….dont ask) and even a handy, dandy mini vibrator as a housewarming gift……all from people who love me and KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I NEED!!!

But yesterday I was the recipient of…..


A gorgeous girlfriend sent them to me. They arrived last night at 10.30 apparently, although I didn’t actually see them arrive.

But, I did open the door and let them in and bid them welcome as instructed….along with lighting a candle and some other weird rituals that I wont go into. Well, other than to say that I’m glad no one was actually around to witness me standing on one leg and chanting whilst holding fruit…

Anyway, apparently a bunch of angels is exactly what I need.

It figures.

See, my friends reckon that I need to be surrounded by goodness and light to counteract and protect me from the evil crap that  is “essence of psycho”  Funny that, cos sometimes I actually do envisage a sort of putrid cloud that sneaks up and follows me around, usually I blame it on the dog. Speaking of which…slight tangent here….

The last time my quirky friends talked me into banishing negative energy and cleansing my space of all things evil, I managed to set light to the dog. Well, actually it was the burning white sage embers that fell on his tail as he wandered around the room behind me whilst I waved and wafted smoking herbs in the air……I didn’t inhale tho promise !! (the smell of burning sage and dog hair cleared the room nicely for about two days too cos no one dared enter for fear of asphyxiation)

Anyway, back to the point.

I have an open mind about such things (angels, not smouldering dogs) and this latest gift is very gratefully received. I mean, it’s quite a nice comforting thought to envisage angels bringing peace and protection to my home and family. Actually, right now I’m envisaging a bloody great avenging angel with a six-pack swinging a sword in my lounge…….Oh Yeah!! …..probably not the sort of angel she meant tho.

So, THANKS Gorgeous Girlfriend!

I pretty sure I need a lot more practice at this “new age” stuff tho, cos it’s obvious that a little bit of knowledge can be a dangerous thing (especially in the hands of a Fruitloop)

Oh yes, and I need to ask……

WTF am I supposed to do with the fruit NOW?

May 22, 2012 / fruitloopmum

Once Upon a Time….

Dear Fruitloopmum fans,

Sorry, just LOVE this photo….

We’re taking a  break from the amusing sexual deviant posts today. Sorry all you weirdos, but I had an odd experience  in the early hours ….it gave me goosebumps and made me sit up and  take notice. And before your collective brains go there, at this point there was not a sexual thought, a pirate, nor naked body part in sight OK? It was all innocent. Anyways, my phone woke me by bleeping a Facebook notification that my daughter has posted on her wall. Note to self: turn the f**r OFF before bed!

It was 3am, she’s on the other side of the world, and I miss her, so I opened the message. Here’s what she had posted:

My little boy is definitely the prince that gives my fairytale its “happily ever after”

Yes, we all know I’m a Nunu or a GILF or whatever….and my daughter was referring to my grandson who is one year old. As I read her words, my heart filled with love and reminiscing. You see, she was the mad child, a sort of Mad Efel predecessor. She was the funny looking, wild kid with the enormous heart and scatterbrain antics who wanted to be a Disney character when she grew up. She went through a tough time as a young adult…some of it my fault. But, now she’s found her particular niche in life. She’s a mother herself. And her beautiful post made me smile.

Funny how life turns out isn’t it?

So, I got to thinking. Fairytales.

And I made a kinda personal check list:

OK, all really good fairytales need a cast of interesting characters.

Yep, got plenty of those. Hell, I’ve even got a pirate, and a bunch of assorted weirdos with the odd saint and angel thrown in.

Then,we need a badie. You know, an evil ogre or something. I mean, how boring would the tale be if it was all sweetness and light and happily ever after (she says making vomiting faces)

So, no prizes for guessing which bleeding psycho fills this role. He’s just perfect. Even looks like an ogre!

(sorry, if you’re new here you’ll have to have a giggle and go into the archives…..I promise you I couldn’t find a better candidate)

Next up we have to have a good plot. Not just any plot you understand. It has to be exciting! One filled with danger, twists and turns, adventure, funny bits, sad bits, love, total disasters and hope. A good plot has to have you sitting at the edge of your seat sometimes rigid with fear and sometimes not knowing whether to laugh or cry or dive under the covers.

And  here, at 03.00 something or other….a strange kinda clarity crept over me, like someone had switched the light on…

FFS!!!!  I’m living my own bloody fairytale!!!

Anyone got any dwarves?? cos that’s all I appear to be missing.

Anyway, before I lose you all with my mad ramblings, I suppose my point here is this:

My eldest darling daughter is now enjoying her own fairytale. And is a special part of my mine.

Life is exactly what we make it, and I choose to make mine the best freakin fairytale ever!

Move over brothers Grimm. This is gonna be an epic one that I hope will be passed through the Fruitloop family from generation to generation. Hopefully one in which good will triumph, evil will be vanquished and all the grandchildren will learn, be entertained and scared senseless by

“Once upon a time there lived  a very weird woman…..


Now, where do I find an agent?


May 18, 2012 / fruitloopmum

Accountants in Gimp Masks!!?

OK, since the Strippers, Teachers, Pirates and Judges post,  you’re probably all aware that Fruitloopmum friends are what could only be described as an eclectic bunch of weirdos, bless them.  But this week, I’m gonna spill the beans on my weirdo accountant friend.

You see, I’ve been threatening to expose him for far too long. In fact I’ve been making threats ever since he termed the word GILF to describe me to his mates. I mean, GILF???? if your brain even goes there you can’t be quite right upstairs can you?? And this one’s definitely not quite right.

The man has a wicked sense of humour and just loves to bait people. But just for once, Fruitloopmum is gonna give some back on behalf of his long-suffering wife and friends. You see for starters, this is the guy who took his dog to the vet late one night because the dog was walking in a peculiar fashion. The vets prognosis was….. that his dog had an enormous stiffy and charged the guy $80 for that prognosis. I mean, come on Mr P… do know what a stiffy looks like don’t you???? Apparently, the whole embarrassing, expensive episode was his wife’s fault!!! ……don’t ask… However, I have advised that in future, should her husband come anywhere near the marital bed with an unwanted stiffy, she should call the vet immediately.

Anyways, back to the point of the story. I recently decided that it was probably time for me to consider something horribly normal and prepare a tax return. So, over dinner last week whilst laughing and discussing the dubious sanity of running 100kms in the pitch dark through the bush to save an extinct species ( yep he did it) And why he thinks that only gay guys drive small cars (yep he said it to someone who’d just bought a small car), I asked how much he’d charge me to prepare my tax return………

And the weirdo’s response???

“Just bring around your paperwork…….and a GIMP MASK!”


His wife and I choked on our food….and I suddenly envisaged entire offices of grey suited men sitting at their desks, lol…..slaving over their computers and wearing bloody gimp masks with a female boss cracking the proverbial whip. Yep, it would seem that there are a whole bunch of accountants out there who like that kinda stuff! Isn’t it always the quiet, nerdy ones??

I’ll confess, I used to have a soft spot for Batman….but noooooo, this gimp stuff really doesn’t do it for me. Needless to say, after this little admission over dinner, the next time this guy comes home and complains to my girlfriend of a tough day at work he’ll get absolutely no sympathy….in fact I think she should whip his damn arse!

Anyways, the deed is now done. And after this little tip, I can advise anyone wanting a good rate on accountant fees to investigate the BDSM shop first for cost-effective incentives.

Love ya Mr P……keep up the good work.



May 15, 2012 / fruitloopmum

Dear Mr Hairyballs…

I was stuck, suffering from writer’s block….and looking for inspiration for my next post. Then it came to me! You see, it would appear that there’s a Fruitloopmum fan somewhere out there going by the name of…. Mr Hairyballs.


Or not, kinda depending on your viewpoint .And really, how MUCH hair are we talking about here mate??

Anyways, Mr Hairyballs, whether you resemble Chewbacca down there, or whether it’s just the macho name thing that you’re into, your amusing comments on my posts reminded me of some product reviews that I came across on the net last week.

You see, it would appear that the last 10 years has seen a rise in the number of guys removing hair.  And we’re not talking shaving their legs here. Oh no!

We’re talking about guys discovering what girls have known for some time. Namely that having smooth, hair-free bits not only makes you look and smell better, but that there’s a certain…urm… pleasure to be derived by the exposure of naked skin around the nether regions!

So, those clever, clever marketeers have been marketing hair removal cream for guys. It’s the same suff as women use, different packaging. However the manufacturers have apparently missed one vital point. You see, we all know that not only are guys incapable of asking for directions… seems that they can’t follow directions either!

I was to be found crying with laughter at a whole bunch of product reviews written by guys who have decided to try this hair removal cream but ignore the friggin directions!!!!!

Here’s just a small selection of the comments from the product reviews:

I am giving this product a 5 because despite the fact that I think my bollocks might fall off, they are now completely hairless

“.…my once proud Biggles looks more like the lone equine survivor of a fire at a donkey sanctuary

And a favourite one that had me wanting to nominate the poor guy for an award in creative writing:

I decided to get up off the landing carpet, go shower and inspect the results… balanced on one leg in the shower holding a shaving mirror between my legs, and pushing my throbbing nads to one side with the toilet brush, I could see what I can only describe as a Gollum’s head tortured and battered by a Taliban interrogation unit, peering up at me through a single screwed up puffy eye, looking pretty sorry for itself. On closer inspection my two previously furry love-eggs had absconded deep into my body for protection leaving my somewhat forlorn looking scrotum hanging there, like a pelican’s over-filled neck pouch which had been flogged with a barbed wire paddle

Yep, it seems there’s a whole bunch of men out there who now have wizzened purple balls, rings of fire, and worse. These product reviews contain hilarious descriptions of what happens when you DONT read the directions….currently 31 whole pages of entertainment. So, Fruitloopmum fans…click here and settle down for several hours of entertainment courtesy of men who no longer have hairyballs.

Oh, and my advice to the manufacturers is to take notice of your target market’s profile and communicate accordingly….the instructions should simply read, as one review suggested


So, enjoy the reviews, and Dear Mr Hairyballs, thank you for your support and for providing me with some inadvertent inspiration this week!

May 8, 2012 / fruitloopmum

Let’s Go Tagging!

Just a quickie Fruitloopmum fans…

So, early this morning I was looking through my Facebook pages and checking up on Mad Efel who just HAS to post daily nonsense  and naughty thoughts @madefel to start the day, and I see something that made me sit up in bed and LMAO as they say.

It wont come as any surprise to you that Fruitloopmum is Facebook friends with a little outfit called  Moms Who Drink and Swear   (I have to keep up with my competition) and this morning’s post from across the world was an absolute star…..only the yanks could possibly think of this one!

And THIS got me thinking….

Which got Mad Efel thinking….

And together, we have a cunning plan…

I’m posting the link here for you all to see: Ronco Hair in a Can!!

You just gotta watch it! It defies belief!!! AND..apparently doesn’t even come off in the rain!


It’s from the 90’s but ready to be ressurrected…cos Mad Efel and I are ordering a few cans.

And then we’re going out tagging!!

Just imagine the possibilities….sleeping sunbathers, bald babies, offensive hair-dos, comb-overs, women with beards and moustaches, men with beards and moustaches……

Watch this hairy space!

May 2, 2012 / fruitloopmum

Sexy AND Seductive…..?!

My Man made an observation recently that really put the cat among the pigeons.

See apparently, although I am sexy, I couldn’t pull off seductive if my life depended on it, and  ok, I’ll admit….I GOT JUST A WEE BIT TOUCHY!

COME ON I thought…. It’s me we’re talking about here! I’m sure I can do sexy and seductive…cant I?

He just laughed, smacked my cute backside, but wouldn’t back down.

“BUT IT’S IMPORTANT!!!” I said as I wrestled him to the ground wearing a bustier and stockings laughing. But the bugger still wouldn’t change his mind on the matter…

Fast forward a few days, and the question has been the subject of much angst for me, and hilarity for my friends who I turned to for some moral support. Here’s what I got back….

A huge cheesy smile and rolling of the eyes: “Nah, you’d be the girl who mid sexy strip would get tangled in your knickers or get your bra stuck on your head”

Then I got giggles, sideways glances and “Oh come on Fruitloopmum, you’re Jamie Lee Curtis doing the strip scene in True Lies…you know when she falls over!”

Followed by a confirmed Fruitloopmum fan giving an incredulous gawf  “Urm, didn’t you do a post a while back about your man rolling about laughing when you tried to do seduction in a bustier and high heels?”

So now, I’m crestfallen, distraught even!

…it’s bloody obvious that I’m not going to get any back-up from my friends, who know me too well bless them. Trouble is, thinking back, it’s not the first time that this kinda observation has been made about me, so I suppose there’s more than an element of truth in the comment after all.

In fact today, whilst discussing the subject and really clutching at straws, I had to admit to a girlfriend that I recently looked down during a really steamy moment and wondered why I appeared to have bows and ribbons hanging from my arse.

Then I realised.

In my haste to try seduction, I’d put my bustier on….upside down. I don’t think my man noticed…..but I had to do my best to stifle some inappropriate  giggles over my beribboned arse.

She smiled, and tried to make me feel better “Don’t worry, you know how I rarely wear a dress? well, on my way home from your party wearing that long cocktail dress that looked soooooo hot…..”

(and it’s true, she did look awesome) “Yes?”

“I tucked it into my knickers…..cos otherwise I couldn’t cycle home!”

Well, it did make me feel a bit better to think of her with that sexy long dress tucked into her knickers, peddling furiously home along the main road…cos that’s exactly the sort of thing that I would do….

See, I reckon that in order to be seductive you simply have to have a modicum of co-ordination and be able to take yourself seriously enough to keep a straight face. And let’s face it, I can do neither!!

So, although I may be sexy, it looks like I’m probably gonna have to concede that I just can’t pull off seductive no matter how hard I try. Well, not unless you find seduction circus-style a turn-on.

Anyways, I have had a comforting thought.

It’s for the best.

Because if  EVER, by some miracle of chance, I do manage to master both sexy AND seductive…who the hell would be able to cope with me huh???

April 24, 2012 / fruitloopmum

Squeals from the toilet!?

There I was, pottering around the room, minding my own business and unpacking when I heard a most unnatural squeal from the toilet…..


Startled, I dropped my bag on the bed in alarm.

My man had disappeared into “the little boys room” of our hotel suite a few minutes before and firmly closed the door behind him.

I stood rooted to the spot for a moment with some very weird and unnatural thoughts running through my head. We wont go there ok?

When I managed to gain my composure and voice, I shuffled closer to the closed toilet door and  prepared to shoulder it open in case of emergency. The conversation through the closed-door went something like this….

Fruitloopmum: Urm….are you OK?

My Man: Whoa!

This was followed my more strange noises emanating from the toilet……a sort of combo of shuffling, grunting and gasps.

Fruitloopmum (louder now): ARE YOU OK???

My Man: Geeze….I think you’d better come look at this!

Well…..I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Had the man suddenly discovered something in his pants never before encountered?

Was his appendage covered in a nasty rash? Had it swollen to an enormous size and gone a strange colour?

God forbid it was the back bottom that he wanted me to come look at…..I mean, pleeease!

Had he discovered a bad case of worms or something? Oh yeah, and we all know that everyone checks the size and consistency of their poos before they flush….Nooooooooo I really DID NOT want to come and see, no matter how spectacular!

Fruitloopmum (now feeling quite queasy): WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT ME TO COME LOOK AT????

At this point, the toilet door was opened and my man  appeared with a triumphant, pleased look on his face. I feared the worst.

My Man: You just HAVE to see this, it’s awesome!

He stepped to one side and waved his hand towards the toilet behind him as though introducing someone……..I gulped and held my breath as I peeked beyond his extended arm into the toilet.

I stared, mouth open whilst he ran through a list of attributes:

“Back AND front bottom”



“Blow-dry madame?”

Fruitloopmum: Get outta my way!! I’m going in now, and don’t expect me to be out any time soon!”

Techno loos with magic wands that spray temperature controlled water on your bits? and then blow on them???

OH YEAH…..!!

And just in case you think I make these posts up…..absolutely NOT!

Post Script: Thank you Hotel Nikko Saigon for a most memorable stay. Fruitloopmum will be back for sure!

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