Long time no see!

Howdy folks!

Have you been wondering where we are?
We'll be very flattered if you cared :D

Well, I'm back home in Romania. I left Trinidad last Tuesday and watched the nice lady next to me drift off into sweet oblivion for almost all the flight
( 10+hrs). I got about 1.5 hrs sleep in total...

Then I left Gatwick airport and made my way via bus to Heathrow airport. I arrived about 11am and my flight to Romania was about 8pm. I had to sit with my huge heavy suitcase for more than 6 hrs waiting to check it in and enter the much more comfortable departures lounge. What torture. Especially since I had money in my pocket waiting to be spent.

I finally was able to check in and then had to literally run to get my shopping done and then run to the gate and board the plane. By this time I was REALLY sleepy and exhausted and kept nodding off and jumping awake (that's so funny when another person does it).

Unfortunately for me, this young boy kept blabbering on and on and on and on behind me.
For the first time I wished I wasn't able to speak English. At least I wouldn't have been
driven to suicidal/murderous feelings by listening to his inane drivel.
It was obvious that his parents were fed up of him, but it never entered their head that other people were ready to chuck the little bugger out the window!!!!

We arrived in Romania 15mins early, my ride was waiting for me and I arrived home around 12am. I went to bed around 3:30am and proceeded to spend the rest of the week in a sort of post-traumatic-jet-lagged-exhausted-hungry-daze.

Now the jet lag seemed to have worn off but now I caught a cold - life's wonderful!

The first photo is of my cat , Chloe who was all bundled up in a blankie and who wasn't enjoying one minute of it.

Second pic is of Froopert on the left, Frooples on the right and the mother in the back, bitterly complaining and fretting over a phone card. As you can see, Froopert and I were in a different planet :P

I wonder where we going?? Maybe to eat dimsum.
Frooples.

VAGUE Magazine!

Create Fake Magazine Covers with your own picture at MagMyPic.com

This is me on VAGUE magazine.

I really enjoy this type of thing, maybe because I'm shallow and brainless.

When Froopert comes back from her fisherman course, I'll ask her to make one of herself.

I hope you all had a great weekend and are well rested for work tomorrow.

(It's 8:15pm here, that's why I'm talking as if the weekend is over - because, for us, it IS!)

Taa.

Frooples

Where the names Froopert and Frooples came from.

As you may or may not know, I call my sister Froopert. Years ago, we used to look at this ODD cartoon that I think was called "Rupert the dancing grouper."

It was about Rupert, a grouper who would leave his bowl and dance and then inevitably die.

But the song was hilarious! They stress on the name 'Rupert' and it came out as
" Roooo-perrrrrt".
So naturally, I had to call my baby sister "Froooo-perrrt".

Not to be outdone by me, she came up with "Frooples".
Why Frooples and not, say, Froopat or Froopit etc. you ask? Because, she said, it rhymes with "scruples".

Such genius is without compare.

The "gyul.pus" was explained here - "The Origins of Gyul.Pus"

The photo is of my baby "Rainbow the bear" posing on my desk with a cup of Froop yoghurt. I bought it because of the name, and I will not be buying it again because of the taste.

Frooples

Mommy, where do babies come from?

I don't understand why parents see fit to lie to their children about one of the most natural occurences in life.

(Other natural occurences include bowel movements, peeing in the bush and spending all your money in sales).

I for one, am already prepared in the event that I produce offspring and that one of them is fortunate enough to be lucid.

I have my answer all planned. I will not lie to my progeny, I wish to be a good mother. I will bite the bullet and explain the truth to my child.

Child: Mommy, where do babies come from?
Me: Well, my dearly beloved, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very, very much, they go to the Prefectural Office and fill out some forms and pay stamp duty and wait nine months.
Then, after nine months they go to the hospital where the stork drops off the brand new baby!

See? It wasn't so hard, parents, don't lie to your innocent Babes in the wood. Tell them the truth!

Frooples

Frooples and Froopert (aka Froop squared) - A brief history

Hello people of Earth and beyond,

This is Frooples typing in Romania, and Froopert is in Trinidad and Tobago contributing via Google Talk.

We are sisters.

I, Frooples, am 29 yrs old, married and living in Bucharest due to hubby's job. I am careerless (except for being a housewife) talentless, beautyless, hobbyless, educationless and childless. I am also athleticly-challenged and most importantly, partially brainless.

Froopert is 22 yrs old, and prides herself on being broke, unmarried, jobless, hobbyless, talentless, slimless and prettyless. She also has an unhealthy obsession with Hello Kitty and is, indeed, also partially brainless. (This brainless issue we shall address later on.)

Later on...


I, Froopert, will now proceed to discuss the issue at hand, viz. being in possession of only half of a brain, and not a particularly efficacious brain at that. It seems that whenever one of us decides to comment on a particular topic the other says the exact thing, in the same words, at the same time. As a result, we have come to the inevitable conclusion that we are, in fact, in possession of two halves of the same cranial organ.

We have decided, via the intertubes, to join forces by combining each of our half brain and prove to the world at large and beyond that it is, in fact, quite probable, to function with only a meagre portion of a brain. Ladies and Gentlemen, we hereby present to you for your stalking pleasure.... gyulDOTpus