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Musings of the Misguided

Tuesday, 30 October 2012


*The following post may be triggering to those who are struggling with self harm thoughts. Please make sure you are feeling safe before reading.*
If you or someone you know is contemplating hurting themselves please get in contact with a GP, go to your closes ED or give the wonderful people at Lifeline a call.

On 60 minutes on Sunday, they did a story on Self Harm. I will admit that I was apprehensive about it and didn't actually watch it until it was available online. After I knew that other people had watched it.  After I knew whether they had portrayed it in an understanding light.  I just knew that I wasn't in the right frame of mind to deal with it, if it was anything else.
I've made no secret of the fact that I have self harmed in the past.  It is something that I deal with on a constant basis. It is something that I will probably deal with for the rest of my life.  Was it easy to stop? No. Not at all.
Self harm has been toted as 'attention seeking' among other derogatory things.  Things like that do nothing for the shame and guilt that someone who self harms or has self harmed feels.  The worst comments I have received have actually been from 'professionals'. The pearlers have been when presenting to the local Emergency Departmet with injuries that needed medical attention ranging from 'so', 'you know you're doing it the wrong way' to when presenting with self harm thoughts and not actions 'just come back when you've done it'.  Emergency Departments are the first port of call for mental health patients and really need to be trained in ways to deal with these patients. Psychiatrist Professor Graham Martin talks about it during his interview.
"I hear of therapists running away. I hear of people in hospital running away. Nursing staff who can’t face up to somebody who has cut themselves deliberately. Because they’re not important, and they did it to themselves, and they’re just attention seeking. I don’t believe any of that. I think when somebody goes to these lengths, they need help."
One of the most common questions asked of someone who self harms I think is "What made you think to pick up something to hurt yourself with".  There is no one moment when you think oh yep this is what I am going to do. It is something done out of desperation, of feeling like there is nothing else that will work.  When I started I never in my wildest dreams thought that I would still be struggling with urges 10 years later.  That 10 years later, whenever things get shit, it is my first port of call.  One of the girls interviewed for the story I think sums it up perfectly.
" I don’t remember why I chose self-harm. The chaos and the feelings that were all trapped inside my head got to a point where I needed something."
I was quite impressed with the way that the story was portrayed in such a sensitive way.  It didn't poke fun or minimise the behaviour in anyway. I just hope that this story was able to reach a few people, to help them understand.

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Sunday, 28 October 2012

Sand in your crotch

Yesterday Papa Devil, Devil Spawn and I went to the  beach.  I love going to the beach. It's free easy entertainment for Devil Spawn and it's super refreshing on a stinking hot humid day.  You know what would make the whole experience even better? No fucking sand.
Anyone who goes to the beach with kids will tell you that you find sand in the strangest places for the longest time afterwards.  It gets everywhere.  On everything.  IN everything. 
As soon as we tell Devil Spawn that we are off to the beach his little cheeky face lights up like a Christmas tree and that means we must go to the beach RIGHT THIS SECOND which would be awesome IF we didn't live a 25 minute drive from a decent beach. First world problems and all that.  We pack the car up, put swimmers on, take more towels than can sink a battle shit and load all of the sand toys in as well. 
Usually I don't get completely into the water, not wanting people to think a beached whale has washed up and have a full scale Greenpeace mission turn up at the beach.  Yesterday however I decided it was too stinking hot to do the usual up to my shins in the water and took the plunge (literally haha). Oh my I forgot how awesome it is to sit in the water and enjoy the waves crashing over you.  What I forgot was the salt encrusted hair (people actually pay to have their hair to be like that) and the sand in the unimaginable places.

 Devil Spawn had decided to roll in the sand so was covered from head to toe in sticky sand.  Papa Devil took him back down to the water to wash him off a bit before putting him in the car. Devil Spawn, like most little boys though is a giant magnet for dirt. He managed to fall over and cover himself in sand again.  We gave up at this point and just wrapped him in a towel.  There was fucking sand in all the fucking places. 
I thought I had managed to escape the sand in all the places, that was until I got home and took my swimmers off.  All of the sand from all of the places was in all of the places of my bathroom floor.  I had a nice bumpy, grindy fake tan from one end of me to the other.  There was enough sand to fill a small sandpit.  Like I said, it was in all of the places.
I would totally live at the beach if it wasn't for all of the sand.  Do you love the beach? Would you be happy to ditch the itching in all the places sand?

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Friday, 26 October 2012

Beautiful? Who me?

I got massive surprise this afternoon when I logged on to see that Ann over at Help!! I'm Stuck!!   had tagged me in a super cool Beautiful Blogger Award.  So what does that mean? It means you lucky bastards get to find out cool interesting facts about me. Yep little ol' me.
This was my first thought when I had to think of something to say

I guess I should stop dicking around though and get to the important stuff.

  1. Despite my tough exterior and my best efforts to not look all sissy. My favourite colour is pink.  There I said it.
  2. My favourite movie of all time is Rocky Horror Picture Show. I could watch it over and over again.  Then once more just for good measure.
  3. When I was in school I wanted to be a teacher. Now I am glad that I am not. My mum works in a school and the disrespect through stupid rules she gets is disgusting. It's something that I would really struggle with. Especially having to watch that I don't hug a child who is upset for fear of retribution.
  4. I'm supposed to wear glasses when I am on the computer or reading.  I'm too lazy to go get them so I just squint at the screen instead.
  5. I am a notebook-a-holic. I love buying new notebooks, even if I don't have anything to write in them.  In fact today I bought 3 new ones.
  6. I love looking at storage stuff. If I had my own house each room would have different kinds of shelves and cupboards.  I could go nuts in a storage store. Sadly my bank balance gets in the way.
  7. I really struggled to think of 7 interesting facts so I asked a friend and her answer was just say you're awesome because that says it all haha

My latest notebook haul

Now for the fun part! I get to bestow the honour of Beautiful Blogger onto some other awesome peeps!

  1. Good Golly Miss Holly 
  2. Edenland 
  3. Dear Baby G 
  4. Random Ramblings of a SAHM 
  5. MagnetooBoldtoo 
  6. Where's My Glow 
  7. Wanderlust 
  8. Help!! I'm Stuck!! 
  9. Parental Parody  
  10. Woogsworld 
  11. Confessions of a 30 Something Woman 
  12. Cup of Tea and A Blog 
  13. Love Life and Hiccups 
  14. What's in Emma's Brain 
  15. The Things I'd Tell You 

No pressure to join in just thought it would be a bit of fun on a Friday afternoon. Enjoy your weekend!

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Up to my ears in shit and piss

Welcome again to the weekly fuck you that is FFS Friday.  I really love writing this post because it gives me an excuse to be a great big whinger.  Oh and I can't forge that it also gives me the chance to laugh at others expense!
I decided to be all resourceful and do a meal plan. You know to save money and shit.  Every time I decide to do that, I then decide that cooking is for losers and don't feel like making all of the things that I have meal planned.  I'm sure it's my inner rebel trying to make a last ditch fight for freedom.  All I know is that I still have a fridge full of food that I mostly haven't used. FFS
This week we started Toilet Training with Devil Spawn.  The first couple of days were good and I was feeling positive.  Devil Spawn obviously cottoned on that this shit was for keeps and decided on Sunday that he just didn't want to do it anymore.  I asked him to go to the toilet and his response was 'I did, the floor is toilet'.  Cue me telling him no he was a big boy and he needed to do his wee in the toilet.  His response: 'I not a big boy, I a dinosaur grrr'. Sorry buddy but even Dinosaurs have to use the bathroom in this house FFS
Devil Spawn goes to Daycare on Monday and Tuesdays so I can go sleep and lunch with the ladies.  Monday I took him in his little jocks (seriously how damn cute are little jocks) and let the girls know that he was toilet training.  I was pretty apprehensive after our dinosour episode the day before but I figured they were trained and shit so should be able to handle it.  I got there in the afternoon and he had no accidents! No FFS
Tuesday however was a different story.  I got to daycare and he'd had two accidents (not too bad for a guy just getting the gist of this toilet business) and they had put a nappy on him.  He still had a bag full of jocks and shorts so I have no idea why he was in a nappy. It kind of defeats the purpose of him learning and they were adamant they would be happy to have him toilet train. A little consistency would be nice FFS
Devil Spawn now has new ammo to add to his reportoire of sleep dodging techniques.  Coming out and telling me he needs to do a wee wee.  I can't very well tell him to just do it in his nappy because well that defeats the purpose and the crafty little bugger knows it.  So off with the pyjamas and nappy and sitting on the toilet while he fucks around wasting precious time that I could be spending on Facebook and eating things I've been hiding from him all day so I don't have to share FFS.
The first 3 days of toilet training were spent with me telling Dyllan that his penis going in the toilet not pointing up.  So he would then ask me what I meant complete with actions.  This would then result in piss going everywhere and Devil Spawn acting like a giggling school girl FFS
Tuesday night I got all excited when Devil Spawn did a number 2 on the toilet.  I got all excited right up to the point when I walked into the bathroom.  Devil Spawn had decided to get all resourceful and wipe his own arse. With my towel FFS
That's my week of whinging in a nutshell.  What's pissed you off this week? Let me know in the comments. For some comedic relief head over to Dear Baby G to read everyone's additions to FFS Friday.

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Tuesday, 23 October 2012

Kids say the darndest things

One of the joyous and possibly quite scariest thing about having a toddler is they start to learn how to talk and come out with the cutest and most cringe worthy phrases.
Devil Spawn already has sarcasm down to an art. I think it's awesome and considering I'm fluent in sarcasm, it was inevitable.  He most used phrase I think is easily 'alright' of course said with a sigh and eye roll.  This is usually after I have told him to pick up his toys for the tenth time in the space of an hour.  I wouldn't have to nag you if you did it the first time kid.
I think it's almost a right ofpassage for a toddler to drop the 'f' bomb at some stage.  Usually in public.  Recently while out at my parents Devil Spawn dropped it, and used it in perfect context.  I didn't know whether to hug him or yell at him.  What I did do was burst out laughing and attempt, in between fits of giggles to tell him it was naughty. 
At the moment Devil Spawn is convinced that everyone is a man.  We have many arguments about Mummy being a man and not a girl. Usually said with a sarcastic giggle from Devil Spawn.  When used in the safety of The Funny Farm it's pretty safe. When used on a bus not so much. It usually involves me hissing at him that that's a lady not a man and me receiving a dirty look from said lady.
Mispronunciation is pretty funny too.  Devil Spawn says dick instead of stick.  When said in the right context it gets a bit old school girl giggle from me.  His other mispronunciation though has the potentional to be a bit more mortifying.  When he says 'can't' it sounds an awful lot like a swear word used to describe the female anatomy.  Oh yes it's so awesome when we are at the local shopping centre and I ask him to to do something and he yells at the top of his voice 'I c*nt'. Oh yeh that.
His favourite phrase at the moment is 'begusting' aka 'disgusting'.  I use the term to describe the things up his nose that he refuses to let me remove.  Devil Spawn prefers to use it to describe food that he is served.  I don't mind it so much when its about noodles from the local noodle place (hey more for me) but when he uses it to describe the food I serve up, then shit has just gotten real. 
What are some pearlers that your cherubs have come out with? Do you cringe every time they open their mouth in public?
I'm linking up Jess with this week for IBOT. Click on over and read the great offerings the blogosphere has to offer.  Share the comment love and enjoy your day!

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Sunday, 21 October 2012


Unfortunately sometimes in life it takes a big event for people to show their true colours.  It can feel like a slap in the face and hindsight is a bitch.
It can really be a knock to your self esteem.  I've started to wonder if it's something I do that attracts these kind of people.  The kind of people who will hug you with one hand and stab you in the back with the other.  Do I invite these people or am I just not perceptive enough to see the true colours that lurk beneath the surface? Or are these people so cunning that they hide their true colours until a situation arises that forces their real personality to the surface?
For the duration of 2012 I have been an angry ball of fury.  Everyone and everything got on my nerves.  Life became an unbearable pit of anger. I hated leaving the house because everything pissed me off and I was constantly on edge.  A scowl was a permanent fixture on my face and I wasn't very approachable.  I thought I needed new meds.  I think a lot of it was down to the fact that I was in fact surrounded by arseholes.
I've had a facebook acc since 2007. It wasn't until this year that it started to become more of a burden than a help.  It made me paranoid and untrusting as knives were coming from every direction and I didn't know who was throwing them.  It revealed it's underbelly of gossip and back stabbing behaviour and I didn't like it.  I spent more time worrying and talking about the latest drama that had happened on facebook instead of focusing on my own life and bettering myself. 
Then a few weeks ago an incident happened.  An incident that I do not wish to go into detail about on here because I am trying to put it behind me and not dwell on it anymore.  My group of friends were supportive during this time...until some of them weren't.  Actions started to become underhanded and immoral behaviours were expected to be forgiven and forgotten.  It wasn't that simple, it's never that simple.  A small group began to form who supported and excused the incident.  Saying that I didn't know the full story, despite me being the only person in the group who was there when the incident occured.  It all came to a head and I thought fuck it and did a friends list cull.
The weight off my shoulders and out of my mind was immense. I left mutual groups, so had no reason to interact at all.  I suddenly felt my brow start to uncrease.  I felt my shoulders to to unhunch.  I felt the ball of fury becoming smaller as each day passed.  Facebook has become a safe haven again. It has become somewhere that I can vent and talk to my friends withouth having to worry about a game of chinese whispers. 
So before you decide that you are an angry person with a problem or a person deserving of the treatment they receive, first make sure that the people you are surrounding yourself with aren't putting those behaviours in your psyche.  Be who you are and you will find people who let your real personality and nature shine. 

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Friday, 19 October 2012

FFS Friday 19 October 2012

 At first thought I didn't think I had enough for a FFS Friday but after some deep thoughts while washing my locks I realised that there were a few things that pissed me off this week. Well they do say that all of our best thinking is done while in the shower and on the toilet ;)
For the duration that I have been living at Funny Farm my shower has been shite.  I just thought there was a water saver head and put it in the too hard basket.  I got DP to have a look at it last weekend.  There was no water saver head. The pressure is just shite.  Now I am forever going to have to stand under the shower for an eternity to wash my locks FFS.
This week while having a child free day I was enjoying some television that was in cartoon when this little snippet turned up.  Using a mental illness to describe something is NEVER cool. Ever.  There is a theasurus for a reason. Use it! FFS
DS has turned into a know it all.  He will ask me a question then say 'No'. Don't ask me the question if you already know the answer kid FFS.
On Wednesday a couple of friends and I took our kids down to the beach for the day.  We went early to get as much time as possible at the beach.  Turned out it was high tide so there was no beach.  FFS
I got all "I'm more fit that I think I am' and decided to walk from the beach to DP's work.  In the stinking heat. Pushing 20+kg worth of toddler and pram. Mostly up a hill.  I think I saw my life flashing before my eyes a few times. About half way I was dying of thirst and busting to go to the toilet at the same time.  The rest of the way felt like an eternity FFS.
I forgot to put sunscreen on both DS and I. We both got burnt.  I remembered to put sunscreen on DS on Thursday morning before going to Mum's Group but forgot about myself. I got reburnt. I feel like a giant lobster FFS
For the first time in weeks I was asleep, soundly before midnight AND got to sleep in until 730am.  I got 10 hours worth of solid sleep for the first time in I have no idea how long.  I also woke up this morning feeling more tired than I have in weeks. It isn't supposed to work like that FFS.
I do my online grocery order on a Thursday afternoon.  The only spots that were left were the dearest spots.  I kept forgettting about it so I could only get night time spots.  It really is a first world problem FFS.
What's pissed you off this week? Leave your FFS in the comments then head on over to Dear Baby G and read all about other peoples FFS Fridays.

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Wednesday, 17 October 2012

Dabbling in the world of Handy Woman!

My washing machine has a mind of it's own.  It decides when it feels like spinning or if it even wants to wash at all.  *Insert sexist joke here ;)*
For a while I was washing in my bathtub using a broom handle and and the shower to do the 'rinse cycle'.  Due to it being in winter, the clothes would then take two days to dry.  Especially because I usually don't get the energy up for household chores until the afternoon, if at all.  I am so glad that during this time there was no gastro bugs in the Funny Farm house.
When that got old I started leaving my washing until the weekend and doing it at DP's house.  This really put a dampner on the lay in bed hangover caused by excessive alcohol consumption ritual we had going on.  I had to be all dometicated and shit. 
One day I decided to test out the tempremental washing machine and see if it had decided that it was finished being on strike yet.  Surprisingly it sort of spun, well at least enough to swish the detergent all through the clothes instead of the 4 or so items that were sitting in close proximity to the detergent.  Upon taking the washing out, I discovered there was something stuck between the internal and external tubs.  I pulled it a bit and it started to come out.  With a bit of pushing, shoving and pulling I managed to get it out.  Now the washing machine didn't work AT ALL.
At this point I decided to be all he-woman, figured I had nothing to lose and pulled the washing machine apart to see if there was anything else stuck inside.  I managed to pull it apart, cleaned out any build up and started the process of putting the machine back together.  By this stage I was all 'I am woman hear me roar'...right up until I dropped the screwdriver in between the internal and external tubs.  Cue string of profanities that drew DS from whatever he was doing to come and investigate what I was doing.  Shit was not good.
The space between the two tubs was about 10cm so obviously I wasn't going to fit my giant arm down there. 
Plan B. Tongs. The tongs could just fit down but they weren't long enough.  Sadly I didn't have any BBQ tongs or I would have been all over retrieving that pesky screw driver.
Plan C. Put the washing machine on it's side and see if that made a difference to me being able to reach it. It didn't.
Plan D. By this stage if I was stupid enough to have a swear jar, I would have enough coin to buy a whole new washing maching AND and entire set of screwdrivers so shit was really not going good.  Kicking the washing machine just resulted in the screwdriver going further down the tub.
Plan E. I found two sticks that used to hold a couple of fabric cubes together and attempted to reach the screwdriver using them like a pincer.  Of course the sticks were too short. Of course I swore a hell of a lot more.
Plan F.  I really had my thinking cap on now. I was wondering how much it would cost to dump this stupid washing machine versus having to tell DP that I fucked up and I needed his help.  Cue 'I am woman hear me roar' and I finally came up with something that worked!
I used the sticks from Plan E, and attached an allen key onto the end of each one using a ton of sticky tape because heaven forbid I lose two more tools.  I hooked each Allen Key under the handle of the screwdriver and ever so carefully extracted the offending screwdriver from inside the washing machine! I was so over the moon I nearly cried.
After screwing in the rest of the screws, I chucked a couple of items of clothing in the washing machine and IT WORKED! I was back to being all 'I am woman hear me roar' and now I can wash in my own machine again.  It still randomly decides when it wants to work but it does the job.
Are you handy around the house or a DIY disaster?  Let me know your best and worst forrays into the world of DIY.

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Tuesday, 16 October 2012

Insert witty and slightly sarcastic title here

If you've ever that 'pleasure' of taking public transport than you will sympathise with that meme.  Oh how I had a 'it's funny cos it's true moment' when I first saw it.  If you've never been so lucky as to enjoy a stint on the local public transport then let me take you on a little journey.

You know how all of our lives we've had it drummed into our head that we must wear a seatbelt or you will be fined? Well on a bus aka large human sardine carrier they don't have seatbelts.  Playing corners takes on a whole new level while traveling on a public bus.
I don't know about in other places but here a majority of the bus drivers are always in a bad mood. I mean I would be too if I dealt with the general public all day but come on! If you don't like people then don't do a job where you have to deal with people all day everyday.  Especially when, like me sometimes you are the only person I have had a conversation with that doesn't involve bodily fluids.
Be prepared to feel your life flash before your eyes on a regular basis when people think that they can take on a bus.  It's a 50 something seater aka a big fucker and you are in a ford aren't going to win so don't even try it.
Heaven forbid that you don't have the exact change.  I can understand handing over a $50 note for a $2 bus far but come on when it's $3 for a $2.60 fare just take it.  Your death stares aren't wanted nor warranted.
There is always one smelly person who could so with 500 baths.  They always sit at the front of the bus or the back of the bus.  This results in their aroma wafting right through the bus every time the doors open.  They always seem oblivious to their smell.
Most importantly, if I have earphones in that is code for 'I don't want to talk to anyone and if you make me take them out to listen to your ramblings I will not be impressed'. If I feel like I chat I will not have earphones in.  If I have earphones in, there is a pretty good chance that I am enjoying sweet, sweet child free time while listening to things other than Playschool and a whining toddler.
 Do you have any public transport stories good, or bad? Please share!

I'm liking up with Diary of SAHM for IBOT this week. So click on over and share some comment loving.

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Sunday, 14 October 2012

Mind your words

The mind is a crazy, mixed up thing.  Well mine is anyway.  I have a tendancy to remember all the shit stuff and have a hard time remembering all the good stuff.  I'm reminate on stuff constantly.  In laymans terms I am Stewy Mcstew.  I find it really  hard to let stuff go and negative words have a way of drilling down into the depths of my psyche and taking up residence.  It's something that I really need to work on. 

 An article on Psychology Today says:
The environment that children are raised in molds not only their mind, but also their brain. This is something many long suspected, but now we have scientific instruments that show us how dramatically childhood experience alters the physical structure of the brain, and how sensitive we are as children to these environmental effects. Words--verbal harassment--from peers (and, as a previous study from these researchers showed, verbal abuse from a child's parents) can cause far more than emotional harm.
My biggest struggle and thing that plays on my mind constantly is my weight.  Something that my mother would constantly comment on. As well as the volume of food I was consuming while a child.  I wasn't a massively overweight child but yet every hairbrained diet that my mother went on, I was put on as well.  From about the age of 8.  At least that is as young as I can remember.  My mother is overweight and has always always been overweight.  Yet if we were to say anything about her weight, it was the end of the world. It still is.
Through my teen years I really struggled with the whole putting food in my mouth and not feeling guilty about it.  To the point where I started starving myself.  My mother was oblivious. Acting dumb whenever my Dr or Psychiatrist mentioned that I hadn't been eating.  From the age of 14 until 18 I only ate one meal a day.  I rarely if ever ate at school.  In Grade 12 I lose 25kgs in 3 months and she didn't think there was anything wrong with that. Even commenting when seeing me eat that I 'better be careful or you'll put all that weight back on'.  To this day I still tell myself that I 'deserve' to eat when getting something out the fridge. There is always an internal dialogue going on when it comes to food.
One would think that someone would learn from their experiences with their first child. No, not my mother.  I have just come back from two weeks staying with my parents and my 13yo brother.  My brother got all the good genes and is a bean pole.  By no stretch of the imagination is he overweight.  He is taller than me and so at his weight is well within his healthy weight range.  He's a grazer, I don't think I have ever seen him eat a big meal in my life.  While he was rifling through the fridge one day mum says to him 'Stop eating, you're going to get fat'.  My brother is a lot like me at that age.  He takes things in and stews on them.  What was his response to mums words? He went for a 2 hour walk.  Mum thought this was hilarious saying that he takes things so literally. 
Children's minds are so delicate.  Please be careful what you say.  You never know how deep they are burying the harsh words you use.   

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Thursday, 4 October 2012


Everyone has a different definition of what a hero is.  It could be the footy player who kicks the winning goal, a soldier risking his life on the front line, a surgeon performing a life saving surgery or it could be as simple as the single mum down the road doing it tough but still getting on with things.  Like I said everyone has a different definition of who they think qualifies as a hero. defines a hero as: 
"a man of distinguished courage or ability, admired for his brave deeds and noble qualities."
This is the 21st century though  and we all know that women can be heroes too.  
Many women everyday are called heroes by the little people in their life.  Their idea of a hero can be as simple as someone who kisses their sore knee better, someone who fixes their favourite toy or cooks them their favourite meal.  If only we call all think like that again.  If only we could all go back to basics and realise that its the small things that matter just as much as the big things.
All this rambling on has a purpose I swear.  John West Tuna is in the process of bringing out their new range of ads.  Featuring the iconic John West Fisherman, this time with a twist.  The new ads feature a beautiful heroine.
Check out the John West Australia Facebook Page tomorrow morning at 8am AEST to find out more exciting news as well as enjoy a 90 second 'what happens next' video.