Hubby Without a Clue

Rebel Without a Clue is my latest novel and first venture into comic Sci Fi. I hope you like the video I enjoy talking to myself, in fact, I get quite excited. Living away from your hubby can do that to a woman.

Inspired by my video revelations about my parent’s  romping beneath the washing line. I wondered about the next hubby’s visit and his weeks of washing. Could he be enticed with a bit of nylon and matching clothe’s peg-a prolonged sock pulling from the washing machine?

My underwear is not fit for public swinging but, I thought, maybe a few matching towels or a sheet might do the trick along with a sultry glance, a joke and perhaps something in nylon?

I slipped on the only nylon get up I could find, pulled washing from the machine and ventured into the wind outside. Hubby would be down any minute…

“You fancy fish,” he shouted from the bedroom, he comes from Bangladesh where fish is a delicacy and a whole lot more…

“Just hanging out the washing,” I shouted back.

“It’s from the restaurant.” He said.

“Just heading out,” I said intent on some seductive bending.

I began to wrestle against the wind which had turned into a gale. Hubby soon appeared looking for tea, he poked his head out the window to see me fighting with a sheet and started to laugh.

“Where did you get those trouser from? They look like pyjamas.”

Which, clinging to my legs like an illuminous bin bag probably were. Never get dressed in the dark.

“They’re nylon,” I said.

He came outside. I went for my best bend with a seductive sigh, my back clicked, I grunted with a jolt.

He put his hand on my hips “this is nylon?” he said, “very greasy for nylon.”

He had in the past worked in the ‘garment industry’ as he liked to call it and it seems was an expert on nylon.

“This is not nylon,” he said. “Where did you get it?”

“It was in the bottom drawer, can you help me up.”

He tutted impatiently “I didn’t mean now! Where did you buy them from?”

“Can’t remember-can you help me up?”

“I mean if this nylon, I’m an Indian.” he said hands now on his hips.

“It was meant to be an experiment for my book-can you just help me up?”

“You have cheap pyjamas in your book? I thought you said it was a Sci Fi?”

This time it was my turn for an impatient tut. “It was more about the bending, ” I muttered straighten up with exaggerated pain.

“And nylon, this necessary?”

“I thought it was.”

“I have a friend he could get you something decent.”

“Just help me inside.”

“What about the washing?” he muttered with concern.

I looked up from my Quasimode stance to see the sheet frantically flapping in the wind-a corner dragged across a puddle.

“The puddle?” he said now aggrieved.

I wondering what the sheet had that I didn’t?

“Just get me on the couch-better still the bed,” I said.

“Good thing you’re in your pyjamas then,” muttered hubby who helped me inside. Then, like a knight in shining armour went out to save the sheet.

Kerrie Noor

an Aussie sunning it in Scotland


A Little Chortle Never Did No Harm

I decided to enter into chorts.

A comedy competition where you enter a two minute, video of a comic character. I spent ages speaking into my lap top camera- with make-up and without; in the morning and the evening.

I had crazy ideas about my character being so lonely that she called her daughter’s stuffed toys her friends, and bribed the neighbour’s cat with fish. And so poor, that she covered her ‘roots’ with boot polish…and decorate her Christmas tree with Kit Kat wrappers.

Years ago, I tried stand-up and in between panic attacks and bouts of depression I would rise up like a mole from the ground- drive off into the night and mouth my jokes into the wet windscreen. It always rains when you’re heading out in Scotland. Sometimes it was brilliant, other times the silence from the crowd was deafening. I’d look out into the audience and see all these people staring back with a ‘what the hell is she talking about belly dancing, sheep and star fish’?

My sketches or ‘set’ as they say in the Bizz was inspired by my novel, (belly dancing); Kerrie; the early years (sheep). And this zany idea that star fish were full of hormones. Which basically was a joke revolving around me moving my breast for a laugh – a talent from belly dancing.

But then when I think about it perhaps I should stick to writing novels….

And if you want more then click on the link below and see the other aspiring comedians:-

keeping it real

Kerrie Noor

Kerrie’s latest novel  The Downfall of a Belly Dancer is out now on

Amazon :–

Almost a Montage- The Orkneys

Just over a week ago, Emergents sponsored me to travel the length and breadth of Scotland to learn about filming with a mobile in the Orkneys.

And for a show off like me this was a dream come true.

I have always fancied a bit of slap stick and now, here was my chance. To get to grips with the iPhone and make fantastic, rip- roaring films that would bring me an audience beyond my dreams.

Make ‘em laugh- I was going to make them slit their sides…

It was a drive and half up north; along a coast that my hubby and I didn’t see because, in my wisdom, I had decided to drive overnight and arrive for the first ferry. We only had two nights and I wanted to explore the island.

We got a ticket on the tour bus and through half shut eyes peered out into the rain at Kirkwall and beyond…Then jumped back on the bus waking only to visit Stromness, for a local beer and soup.

“Do you think that’s a good idea,’ said Hubby, eyeing my pint.

My Hubby is more a tea man.

And with a comment that any wife would be proud of, I downed my pint and threw him a glare. Before I knew it I was staggering through prehistoric stones and villages that made my time living in a caravan look like luxury.

Orkney is a place worth visiting, Kirkwall is as cute as a cup cake. When we were there it was full of tourists from a cruise ship the size of oil tanker. It towered over the other fishing boats in the small bay like a sky scraper in the middle of a field. And its’ cargo filled every tourist spot with Europeans who had no idea that pushing -pissed people of.

The Orcadians embrace these new visitors in a stoical,”let’s make the most of it” fashion.  The shops of Kirkwall and Stromness are geared to tantalized with Orkney arts and crafts and “ye oldie world”streets. The historical spots, (which range from castles to standing stones) are polished and preened, keeping visitors amused even in the rain. And  a noisy Australian ike me, not only quiet but wanting to come back again.

Raining, hail or wind…

The workshop was held in Orkney newly built library- deliciously fill with books which I wish had more time to explore. It looked like the local hub full of community news- sort of like how Lochgilphead’s community centre used to be.

I was so excited when the course started that I laughed at everything, (I don’t get out much). Then when we started interviewing each other…I couldn’t control myself. When it was my turn to interview- I saw my chance, and dashed of one liners stunning my interviewee into silence. My questions had turned into jokes, which I thought was hilarious. Until Bill (we are on first name terms); pointed out that interviewing someone was generally about them and not me…

I took It in the spirit it was meant…

Bill is a great teacher, with an impressive career. His love for technology is only equalled by his love for the people he has interviewed. A journalist who has been all over the world, Bill is still humble enough to appreciate the people who have given him his stories. And listening to him was an inspiring experience.

The others in the class were, like me- female, eager, enthusiastic and full of fun- artist and writers on adventures of creation, and embracing technology.

Rock on sisters…

Avril, Emergents first woman was there, (we’re on first name terms too). She manages all the behind the curtain things that no one notices, neccssary things without which, nothing would run smoothly. She even brought water for the hearing dog of the women.  A dog who was happy to pose, walk and sniff for the camera, and got more laughs than me…

This is my first movie/ montage…

All though not quite up to an eighties Sylvester Stallone montage. I am proud of it.  I should say, all photos were taken by hubby, he is the one who loves to take photos and I am the one who after the first ten “can you stand there please” starts to snarl…

Appologie’s for the abrupt ending, the music was slapped on once uploaded onto Utube, and I haven’t quite perfected the art yet.

BUT it is the beginning of many more…

Shetland here I come.

Kerrie Noor- an Australian abroad

Kerrie’s latest novel  The Downfall of a Belly Dancer is out now on

Amazon :–