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So I got my big boy back after a two week adventure in the US (well it was work not fun) and I’m so very bloody happy to have him home. It’s always hard having him away, not just because it’s intense on the home front trying to manage all aspects of life, but because I miss him plain and simple. I think I missed him more than usual this time, because when you’re confronting so much change personally, not having your best mate around to talk too is difficult. Suffice to say, I did a lot of pining these last two weeks. Therefore, hand on heart; I am truly grateful for the beautiful man in my life. Steve’s a really special guy, not just ‘cos he was brave enough to marry me, but because he has loved me for who I am – and all that entails – from the minute we met. I think he’s pretty remarkable for that, because being with someone who loves you for who you are isn’t actually that common, I’ve come to realise. I was always hopeful I’d find someone like that, because I’m not the sort of person who can change my personality depending on the people I’m with – I am who I am, and he loves that – awesome. He’s also completely and 100 per cent focused on supporting me in whatever way I need to achieve my dreams. All he wants is for me to fly in whatever direction I want to fly and to be happy with where it takes me. I know he’ll be by my side throughout – through the good and the bad. He often says he’d love nothing more than to kick back and take care of the boys if supporting my career required that. I know he really means it. Steve knows my dreams and carries them as his own. He also puts up with my constantly seeking mind, as well as my explorations into all sorts of weird and wonderful ideas as I try to make sense of the world. While he often looks at me blankly when I talk about complex possibilities or theories (‘cos he’s just not that interested), he loves the fact I want to explore and I sure appreciate that. Many a man would ignore me or tell me I’m nuts. It feels amazing being loved by someone with all of his heart and then some. It feels incredible having confidence in his love for me – which is definitely something I am grateful for every day of my life. It’s also something I could never ever take advantage of, because it’s too beautiful to be abused. Don’t get me wrong – we’ve had some rough times along the journey of married life, and these last four years have been nothing but intense. Sometimes I wondered if we were capable of bringing our couple-dom back into harmony – because it would have been very easy to drift apart – but neither of us wanted that. So we kept talking, and listening to each other, and working at it, and remembering to love each other, and remembering not to blame each other, and remembering how special what we have together really is. So I’m a lucky gal with my boy. He’s a truly remarkable, kind, thoughtful and loving person. He’s an unbelievably magnificent Dad. He knows me and gets me. He knows when I’m uncomfortable or hurt, even when no one else can see it. He is my East, my West, my North, and my South. We’re definitely in this marriage for the long haul as we both dream of being together into old age, hand-in-hand, walking along a beach, him with his nut bra and me with my saggy old boobs banging around my knees… such a sweet vision. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

The hardest thing about going back into a fulltime job – apart from getting ready in the morning and out the door on time – is the brutal treatment I’m getting from my six year old son, Lex. He is NOT happy with Mummy at the moment, not happy at all. He’s been lucky to have Mum working from home and always available since the day he was born, so the lack of accessibility is something he is struggling with. I get it. We’re peas in a pod and he’s “lost” his greatest ally. But he’s ready for me to do this. He needs to find his own wings. He needs to push himself beyond his Mum. I know this. It’s just going to take a bit of time for him to work that out for himself. Coming home every night – usually about 30 minutes before they go to bed – Lex won’t even look at me. Jax will give me a flying hug and is stoked to have me home, but not Lex – cold should is all I get. He warms up after a while, but the atmosphere is intensely chilly in the first instance. The other day I came back on the train with a colleague. She directed me to a different train, and because I didn’t know where the hell I was doing, I didn’t realise I was on the wrong train until I got to a station where I had to change lines. When reading the map, I realised I’d come the wrong way and was on the long train home. I was feeling a tad emotional at that point, just wanting to get home to see my boys, but thankfully found a seat in a corner, where I could hide my tears. An hour and a half later – it’s typically about a 30-40 minute exercise – I came up from the station, and there was Steve and Jax to collect me. Jax came running towards me, giving me a huge flying hug, nearly knocking me over, and I burst into tears. But Lex wasn’t there. He didn’t want to come and get Mummy, the brutal little bastard. It was a bit of an emotional car ride home (which Jax wasn’t happy about), with the reception frosty once again. All I want to say to Lex is – dagger in the heart buddy, dagger in the heart. It’s not easy getting back into the swing of corporate life – although I really am enjoying it – but I’ve got to say the emotional intensity on the home front makes it all a little harder to bear. With Steve going away tomorrow for two weeks to the US, it’s going to be even harder. Bloody kids I tell you. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

A few weeks ago I came across an article doing the rounds about the high levels of synthetic oestrogen prevalent everywhere, but in particular in beauty products. I can’t find the original article, so here’s another enlightening one that goes into great detail, another one here on parabens, and another here as background, but the original article got me thinking. Most of us know about this stuff to an extent (with many very knowledgeable about it) but the challenge seems to be that we know about it but have a tendency to ignore it too, because hey, we can’t see it so why worry about it? Well it’s obvious we do need to worry about it and as I’ve decided to start paying more attention to everything as part of my “Fuck it, Enough” crusade, beauty products is now in focus. Up ‘til now, I haven’t been putting my head in the sand, I just spend most of my time making sure no crap goes in our bodies – so there’s no processed food in our house  – and also focusing on what goes around our bodies – so reducing the chemicals as well. Now it’s time to get a lot more serious about what goes on my body. When I saw the original article, for the first time I really READ it and thought mmmmm, is this my challenge? Ever since I had the boys (it appears to be aligned with that timing and pregnancy does change you) my body has changed and my hormones definitely aren’t balanced. As an example, I’m 43 years old and get pimples like a bloody teenager – can I tell you how much I HATE that? My skin isn’t too wrinkly though – so a side-benefit. Anyways, I’ve been doing all sorts of stuff to try and sort it out BUT perhaps it’s the actual creams I’ve been putting on my body? I mean, I’m a top-to-toe moisturiser every day, and well, that means I’m putting excessive synthetic oestrogen on the largest organ of my body – my skin? So what to do? Well according to the first link above – in regards to beauty products, choose phthalate free and paraben free body-care products. Done – gunna get focused on that. But then my friend Sandra told me to check out this link to the cosmetics industry dirty dozen – so will print that list out and keep it in my wallet. I also found this article and then this one and a really comprehensive alphabetical list of what’s in beauty products and what all the terms mean here, and another one here… I must say it’s great there’s so much information available about this today. But of all the links, check out this database, where you can enter the products you already have and they’ll give you an assessment of how good or bad they are. Nivea body lotion is now off my shopping list, but Origins remains – good. However, it’s not all doom and gloom, as an article came out this week discussing the rise of the toxin-free cosmetics industry here, so that’s good news for all of us who want to make more informed decisions and actually have access to products that aren’t harming us, or sending us into a hormonal frenzy! With all that said, the research coming out today and the groundswell against the beauty industry is really starting to piss me off. I mean us gals (and boys) throw A LOT of money at these companies and therefore, on a subconscious level, I think we expect to trust the companies we are buying products from. I mean the beauty industry cares about its customer’s right and they’d never deliver anything that harms us surely? No never… Yeah right. Most of the chemicals in beauty products have NEVER been tested for impact on humans or they have (on rats) and show an increased likelihood of brain tumours, etc, etc.. When you start to look into it, it’s actually very shocking. The problem is, like most people, I haven’t got a lot of time to stuff around, going to boutique suppliers for this sort of stuff. When I need it, I need to be able to buy it there and then, anywhere in the world. There is also an added dimension to this point – cost. And it’s not just beauty products. If you cleaned out your entire life to avoid all mass-manufactured products and only bought organic food, grass fed meat, free range dairy, organic cleaning products, toxin-free beauty products, etc, etc, etc… – especially in a place like Singapore where everything is imported – it can start to look astronomical. So if we could just trust the suppliers of products that go in, on and around our body to do the right thing and deliver products that enhance our lives rather than lessen them, well we wouldn’t be having this conversation would we? The good news is pre-packaged food got a shellacking this week with the horse-meat/lasagna scandal – which is good news for the local butchers! And of course, how many people still consume aspartame? Check out how it came to be in our food chain – scary stuff. I’ve already shared my views on MSG, soy and much more, but I hate living in a time where we can’t trust the food manufacturers, we can’t trust the FDA, and we can’t trust the beauty industry. Can we trust anyone? In the meantime, if anyone can recommend a full body moisturiser that is good for one’s skin I’d sure appreciate it. Although my friend Sandra suggested using coconut oil. Might see where I can buy that here… Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

So it’s been a big day in the Without the Bollocks household – I bought myself a new handbag. Long overdue and, of course, it’s Coach – yes Sarah, I am chasing up Coach’s Corporate headquarters regarding its supply chain policy. However, I have to admit something – new factors had to be considered in the decision making process for the first time in my life. The main factor being – does this bag have enough space for my old lady accessories? Yes, I had to upgrade not just my bag, but the size of my bag as well, because I now have to include things like spectacles. I hate to admit it, but my standard preference for a smaller bag, always neatly packed, is no longer relevant as I barrel towards my dotage. There are moments in life when one faces the reality of aging, and today was one of them… sigh. Got this version in black of course… However, with that said, even though I have a bigger handbag, I refuse to be one of those women whose bag is so chaotic that they are forced to spend a good 20 minutes on the ground, every day, looking for their keys. Oh no no no, I will maintain my rigid order and neat bag discipline. I have absolutely no idea how ‘Messy Handbag Girls’ cope with that level of chaos. Just watching it makes my skin crawl. With that, I would like to wish all of my Chinese friends Gong Xi Fa Cai, I hope the reunions are fun and that fortunes are made! I’ll be spending the weekend moving into my new handbag. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea 

Lex (now six) has had a couple of rough days with a bug that’s going around Singapore – high temps, headache and all over grumpy bugger. He just doesn’t like being sick, which is fair enough, because neither do I. Although on the flip side, it’s kind of nice when he’s sick because he sits still – which is a little bit of bliss. The day before his temperature kicked in, we were all in the pool and his brother Jax, accidentally kicked him in the eye. It was obviously painful, because Lex only ever cries when it really REALLY hurts – he’s certainly made of tough stuff that boy. In the midst of his tears, Lex immediately went into a panic that he was going to lose his eye. He’s only just lost his first two teeth, and so when something happens to his body, he believes it means that body part is going to fall out and grow back. He’s definitely not happy about the whole tooth loss stage, with his third tooth wobbly and ready to fall. Not even the tooth fairy can make him smile. While Lex is grasping most of what we explain to him these days, we’re finding ourselves unable to effectively explain exactly what is really going on with his body in a way that makes sense to him. As such, he’s taken his reality to a whole different level of panic, and anything that hurts has the potential to fall out. Add this to a bout of sickness and we’re seeing him crumple into tears at the drop of a hat, needing lots of hugs, and his main concern continues to be that he’s going to lose his eye. We’re constantly reassuring him, and that settles him for a bit, but an hour or so later, he crumbles again. Bless his little cotton socks. Being a kid, trying to make sense of the world, while your body is doing weird things as you grow, and add to that feeling lousy – it’s certainly not easy for the little ones. But maybe it’s about being a six year old boy? I was having farewell drinks with my friend AK, and she was discussing some conversations she’s had with other Mum’s of six year old boys. Apparently the emotional intensity is consistent across this age group. I’ve never seen anything written about six year old boys specifically, but it makes sense when I look at Lex. Not only is he sick right now, but he’s no longer invincible in his own mind after a couple of accidents that have really hurt. Add to that bits of his body aching/changing as he grows, other bits falling out and growing back, he’s got testosterone doing weird things to his mind, and all the while, he’s moving from the age of emotion towards the age of logic… no wonder six year old boys are having an emotional time of it. Imagine how we’d feel facing all of that stuff? Anyone else notice their six year old sons having a hard time of it? Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

When I first arrived in Singapore 10 years ago, there were various things on the supermarket shelves I couldn’t comprehend, and in many cases, I still don’t. For example, whitening products were a challenge, because the girls are so beautiful, and the colour of their skin – wow. Most Caucasian women would die to have their skin tone. But other confusing items include chicken essence and chicken floss – which I’m still not sure about – and of course, tinned abalone. This is something I am confronted with every Chinese New Year – there’s walls and walls of the stuff – which are edible snails essentially. Now I usually just think that’s weird, but when reading the Straits Times property section last weekend, I noticed an advert for a $1,200 bed and for a short time only, you could get a tin of abalone for free – value $120! Yes $120 for a tin of food if you bought a bed. Not only could I not put bed and abalone together, the price! Tin food is something I avoid like the plague. The only tinned food I buy is tin tomatoes, so imagine my bewilderment that food in a tin could cost in excess of $100! But I am nothing if not a curious gal and decided to understand, at long last, what all the fuss was about. Firstly I asked my great friend, who I’ll call “Ralph.” He asked not to be identified as I don’t think the Without the Bollocks brand is in line with his personal and professional aspirations, although based on his response, perhaps he’s worried he’ll be lynched? It turned out “Ralph” was the worst Singaporean I could ask, because he hates the stuff, but more than that – CNY traditions have never appealed to him at all, his family never ate abalone anyway – because his Dad was allergic to shellfish – AND “Ralph” would much prefer to spend $100 on a good bottle of wine anyway. Thanks mate – very un-Singaporean. He told me: “I don’t get it either. It’s tasteless and chewy, and while I’m at it, I don’t really get into the CNY celebrations either. As a teenager I used to wear black, because red is obviously the colour of the season, but I never enjoyed all of the red, the noise, firecrackers, dragons and the rest of it. I was a rebel without a cause, and figure I still am today. But with abalone, it’s all about the marketing hype. I get the French eating Foie Gras, I get people being excited about a great bottle of wine, but abalone? I mean, I don’t even get the obsession with shark fin soup.” Although Ralph does remember one obsession with tinned food, when he admitted one of his childhood “delicacies” was Spam! His Mum used to buy the Maling (no dog meat in the ingredients) brand of spam from China (20-30 years ago I might add), and she’d coat it in sugar and fry it up for him. We both shivered at the thought of what was actually in that tin of pork back then. But then we all have our little revolting food obsessions, as I do occasionally like to steal a chicken nugget when attending kids’ birthday party – a regular activity in my life at the moment. Then again, Jamie Oliver ruined the surprise of what’s inside these little babies, because sometimes you just don’t need to know. To ensure I ruin chicken nuggests for more people, please see this video: After speaking with “Ralph,” I still didn’t have my answer to the abalone question, so when in doubt, ask a taxi driver – and this guy was great. He LOVES abalone, usually spends between $40-50 on a tin (which is a lot for a cabbie) and has tasted the $100+ variety as well, which he said was much nicer. Why? “It’s much more chewy!” Apparently chewy is good. His reason for liking abalone – other than the fact it was chewy – is it tastes good and it’s expensive. If you don’t know Asia, expensive is a sign of quality – a hard idea for me to comprehend, because it’s not how I make decisions. However, with 62 per cent of the world’s population here, that’s just too many people for me to argue with. We’re all so wonderfully different. My taxi Uncle also compared abalone to the French eating goose liver (another revolting idea for me – I just don’t do organs) but there was something else important to note, because it is a delicacy for Chinese New Year after all. Abalone symbolizes something good, and it also symbolizes abundance – so by eating it, you’re ensuring the year ahead is full of abundance. He then used a Chinese word, which I missed, that loosely translated into a tin of abalone is a bundle of abundance. So there you go, buying an expensive tin of abalone is all about ensuring a bundle of abundance for the New Year. I got it now. I still won’t eat it, but I got it. If any of my other Chinese friends would like to educate me on their experiences with eating abalone, as well as what it means to them, I’d love to know? And with that, can I be the first to wish my Chinese friends Gong Xi Fa Chai, except for “Ralph,” who’s obviously not going to get in the spirit of the season anyway  xxxx Yours, without the bollocks Andrea PS: if you’re interested in knowing more about what Chinese New Year is all about, I asked a bunch of friends last year, and this is the blog  I wrote.

When Jax was born nearly five years ago, he was a bloody legend when it came to sleep. He loved nothing more than cuddling up to his ‘Fuffa Bear’ while sucking on his thumb, and many a morning we had to wake him up to face the day. It was magic having at least one kid who loved his sleep. Then about nine months ago the night terrors kicked in and for that entire time, Steve and I have had to endure a squirming, cuddly little man in our bed, disturbing our sleep – it’s been exhausting. I know, our own fault, but Steve and I did agree that we’d do whatever the boys needed to make them feel safe and loved. But it’s taken a turn for the worse and not only is he annoying the shit out of us every night, he’s now decided that waking up anytime from 5.30am is acceptable. This is not a good evolution for anyone in our house, especially as he’s started sneaking out so he doesn’t wake us up (considerate of him), only to wake Lex up – grrrrrr!! Early wake-ups are a challenge for me, but the greatest challenge comes from the fact that both boys are not getting enough sleep and thus, they’re miserable little bastards at some point during the day. The heightened tired emotions they’re experiencing, along with our own weary, bleakness, is not pleasant. But as I know with this parenting malarkey, nothing lasts forever, and if I resist it will persist, so my greatest wish for 2013 is that Jax 1. Sleeps in his own bed and 2. He gets back to the little man who loves his sleep. That’s all I need, really…. With that I would like to wish everyone a VERY VERY Happy New Year. I hope the hangovers tomorrow aren’t too brutal, that 2013 is sensational, that the world moves to a more peaceful and loving place, and that the string of bad luck our family has experienced for the last four years or so is finally over and the good times are rolling on – now that would be a nice change for 2013 and it’s gunna happen. With love and without the bollocks Andrea BTW If you like what I write about, I’ve launched a Without the Bollocks Facebookpage at long last ‘cos I’m planning to ramp things up a bit in 2013. I’d appreciate any ‘likes’ on offer.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to the post box and there was a parcel for ME. Now any parent knows that once the kids come along, there is never EVER anything in the post box for you, with our boys enjoying a steady supply of DVDs from their English Grandparents. But it was for me, and when I opened it, I found a beautiful card and pampering pack from my dear friend Saskia in Holland. It was so lovely, so thoughtful and so heartfelt that I burst into tears. My boys, who were still dealing with the disappointment of it not being a new DVD, looked at me like I was nuts, but then, what’s new! Saskia basking in the late October sun in Holland after her 40th b’day bash I immediately dropped a note to Sas to say thank you, trying to convey how much it meant to me, but I don’t think I did a good job in explaining the impact. To know that someone spent their time doing something for me, understanding that a little pick-me-up was in order, well it was just a really special thing.  Saskia is an incredibly thoughtful person – it’s a quality I love in her and she inspires me to be more – but I don’t think she knows how special that quality really is. Bless her. But it also made me realise how often I think of the great people I’ve met in my life and how rarely I reach out and say hi – in whatever way is appropriate. Facebook has enabled me to get back in touch with so many wonderful people – which I am so thankful for because I know what is going on in friend’s lives to an extent – but I think I need to do more of the little important things. It doesn’t have to be much – a card with a funny memory, a photo of a time we smiled together, or buying a small gift that will make someone smile. I mean, let’s face it, there is no better feeling than being thought of, but equally, it also feels great to think of someone and honour them because they have meant something important to you. So as the Christmas season takes the attention of many of my friends around the world, anyone want to think ahead and join me for a year of random acts of kindness? The rules are simple. Whenever you think of someone who’s been awesome in your life, send them something – anything – with the simple goal of showing them you were thinking of them. It will melt their hearts. Anyone in? With that, I want to wish my sister a very Happy Birthday today, and everyone else a VERY Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and here’s my prediction for 2013: it is going to be the best year EVER because I said so. And finally, thank you thank you thank you for your love and support in reading and commenting on my blog. It is appreciated more than you know. Big love and kisses Yours, without the bollocks Andrea PS: Saskia, my fellow Zen-seeker, thank you again darling!

I read somewhere recently that if you hug someone for six seconds or more, all of the feel-good stuff that comes with a hug is transferred between the hugger and huggee, leaving you both feeling better. As such, I’ve decided to hug more often and for longer. For some reason, I find I forget the small, important stuff, but we all know it’s the small stuff that makes such a big bloody difference. So I told Steve about this hugging idea and he’s taken it on board as well (although it’s not an arse groping opportunity love), as such, we’re giving each other lots more hugs throughout the day – for absolutely no reason what so ever – and you know what, it makes me feel more loving towards him. Cool huh?  The most famous hug of 2012 – a Twitter pics hall of fame! I am a fan of hugging and especially in Singapore, my super-hugs have always gone down a treat with my Asian friends. It can be months or years between seeing old pals, and the first thing they say when they see me is “can you give me one of your great hugs?” Nice. Culturally, Asians aren’t so hot on the hugging-front, except when they get to know me. But it was my great mate Irene who really taught me how to hug. Irene is a Master Hugger who believes you should never be the first person to let go in a hug. As such, a hug with Irene is long and lovely, ‘cos who wants to be the first person to let go? I need to remember my Masters’ lessons. I hate being too occupied with insignificant bollocks (in the bigger scheme of things) to remember this simple pleasure, because well, that’s just wrong. So I wanted to share this, ‘cos a small bit of focus in the last couple of weeks has made life a little bit nicer for my whole family, and I thought someone else might appreciate the reminder that hugs are good, but do it for at least six seconds… and no back patting!!! Happy Holidays! Yours, without the bollocks Andrea  

Seth Godin recently published this blog. Sometimes he hits a real chord with me, and this is obviously one of those times. “Most advice is bad advice… People mean well, especially friends and family, but they’re going to give you bad advice. Seth’s Head from sethgodin.typepad.com This leads to two challenges as you strive to create original work that matters: 1. Ignore their advice, even the well-meant entreaties that you stick with the status quo and 2. Try to discern the actually useful good advice, so you don’t insulate yourself in the bubble of the self-deluded. In general, this good advice pushes you to go faster, or to do things that make you uncomfortable. PS the irony of this post is not lost on me.” I deffinitely agree with him, however, there’s a further aspect to this discussion I often think about – which is obviously not about work exclusively, although it still counts. When people give advice, they give it from the perspective of their own experience, and this experience can include fears and anxieties. So, for example, if you ask someone for advice on something they could never imagine doing in a million years, they’re not going to be able to give you useful advice. How could they, when what you are proposing actually frightens the shit out of them? I believe you’ve got to be really selective in who you ask and make sure it’s someone who actually understands you, as well as knowing what drives you. I’ve had a lot of people give me advice – some asked for, but some offered uninvited. I’m always very careful who I ask for advice, because it has to come from people who can offer me the best advice based on who I am, as opposed to who they are. It’s not that I don’t respect people’s opinions, but on the occasions I seek help, then I want to get the right help. A great case in point was pregnancy! Man oh man you get advice from every man, woman, child AND their dog – but most of the time, you’ve never even met them before! I remember leaving one dinner party in tears (pregnant and sober) because people I’d just met gave me advice that frightened the shit out of me. When we got in the car Steve said: “babe, enough. We are not listening to anyone else about pregnancy, child birth, or child raising unless we decide they are someone whose opinions we actually value and are people who will be similar parents to us.” He was right, and we were very selective after that, but pregnancy is a special kind of advice-time in a gal’s life, because everyone is a beginner there! But by stepping back and only taking advice from certain types of people, it definitely took a lot of fear out of that time for me. Phew!   But then, going further back, as a teenager, I had a lot of people giving me advice as well. I was growing up, finding out who I was and I wanted to try new things, see new things, and experience new things. As such, I asked the people in my life what they thought? In many many cases, people tried to discourage me from doing what I was proposing, and I thought “Hmmmmmmmm – oh well I’m going to do it anyway.” Stubbornness has always been a trait. The thing is, when I succeeded it made the advice I was given confusing because it made me question why they gave it to me in the first place. From where I was standing, what I achieved was worth the risk, so why did they try to discourage me? It’s obvious – they couldn’t do it or conceive of it (for whatever reason) – so their advice was in alignment with how they were feeling and had nothing at all to do with me. I was, quite simply, asking the wrong people. For me, life has always been about going for it and seeing what happens, because even if it doesn’t pay off, it doesn’t matter, because I get the gift of a lesson learned, so no matter what, I gain. That was a great early life lesson, because it taught me to trust my own instincts and it’s served me well – not always – but the majority of the time. It essentially taught me to trust myself, as well as accept responsibility when things didn’t work out as I hoped. Anyways I liked this blog, because advice is such an interesting thing to seek and take on board – but more than that, it is also something too freely offered in our world. I believe it is only relevant if it’s targeted to who you are, as opposed to coming from the perspective and experience of the person offering the advice, and all of what that entails. Shit, I don’t even take Steve’s advice much of the time – something he’s had to learn to accept as part of this marriage partnership malarkey, but then, I don’t expect him to heed mine either. You’ve got to do what you feel is right for you at the end of the day. Any advice experiences – good or bad – you’d like to share? Yours, without the bollocksAndrea