Short Fuse Misfire

Reposted from the TikiBar Forums:
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So I had my first Short Fuse at the bar on Friday and loved it. I the bought the ingredients this weekend to make it at home.

And I did.

And I hated it. Sickly-sweet, verging to sour instead of clean toffee flavours.

What could have made the difference? Well, there are a few things:
1) The bar had no Cherry brandy, so we used Strawberry Schnapps instead.
2) The beer used was Coopers Sparkling Ale at home, Tooheys New lager at the bar.
3) I used Pepsi Max at home, and Coke (full strength) at the bar.

I'm going to try it again tonight without the Cherry Brandy, just to see, but ugh. What a letdown.

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(About an hour and a half later)
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Success! Go the scientific method!

So, deciding that the only way of controlling the circumstances would be to control the variables, I set out to the bottle shop. I got a stubby of Toohey's New lager and a can of Coke. Once home, I recreated the Short Fuse with the steely calm of a scientician. A third of a shot of cherry brandy was the third change made. Created the Kahlua and amaretto shot (even layered it perfectly), and dropped it in.

Heaven.

The sweeter Coopers ale and sugary Pepsi Max combined with the Cherry Brandy was just too much for my palate. The dry and more structured Tooheys New controlled the flavour of the drink.

Phew! I thought I'd bought Cherry Brandy, Amaretto and Kahlua for nothing (although, admittedly, I would have gotten rid of them somehow)!

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Short Fuse Attempt AKA "My God, It's Full Of Booze!"

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For those of you who don't know, a Short fuse is 8 shots of beer, 4 shots of cola, 1/2 shot of cherry brandy, and then a shot glass with Kahlua and Amaretto is dropped in.

It's wondrous. Like drinking a toffee, but not sticky.

Feel the Burn!

So I rode my bike into work today. Was great. Shaved about 35 minutes off my travel time. Legs hurting a little bit (damned gentle incline up Cleveland st!) but not too bad.

One thing I realised, though.... Here in Australia, the rear brake is on the left. The front brake is on the right. In Canada, it's the opposite. This caused some confusion, but not the comically catastrophic crash I was dreading.

And then I got to work and someone had pulled out my desk drawers, spilling things onto the floor. Nothing was taken, that I can see, but it still made me grumpy.

Mongeese, Cocktails, and Missing Wonga.

For the first time ever, I’ve gotten a bike for Christmas*. Dad bought Tanja and I Mongoose Rockadile bikes. We’ve yet to try them out, but they look pretty fancy. They have (depending on which website you go to) 21, 24, or 30 gears (it says s-30 on the gear shift itself, so I think I’ll believe that). Considering I found my 18-speed over-geared when I was 15, I think that’s a lot.

My bike:



Tanja’s bike:



And we went out for cocktails at the Rose and I somehow misplaced $20. I had $180, then Dad gave me $60 for some shirts, making $240. I then bought myself two cocktails (totalling $20), Tanja’s and my dinners (and a beer for Tanja, totalling $30), and another beer for Tanja later ($5). I now have $175 in my wallet. WTF? I know I had a third cocktail, but Cecil was kind enough to buy me that. I hate when this happens.

*I’ve gotten a bike for a birthday once, but never for Christmas.

Not a LOLcat. Promise.

For all of the complaints (well, ok, two), that lolcat was my most-commented blog post in, well, months. It did it's duty.

The new iPod Touch commercials are using CSS's "Music Is My Hot Hot Sex" as their theme. It's a fun song. I read a review of the band in Mojo and bought that song on iTunes. Now it's in an ad. People are going to think I have the song because of the ad. So, like all those people who actually like "Jerk It Out" by the Caesars (which was also on an iPod ad, which I also have but admittedly, I first heard it from SSX3 on PS2), that was, I must screen what comes out of my speaks for fear of being a trendwhore.

Tanja and I joined a gym. Happily, it doesn't open until late January, early February. The need for it was intensified by Kommi at work, who, after seeing me with a piece of cake from someone's farewell, tactfully asked if I had gained weight. I spent the rest of the evening feeling like I had a bowling ball hanging off my gut. I even contemplated going out and buying a looser shirt on my lunch break. Of course, she DID rectify the situation by saying that I was "a cuddly guy" and that she liked her fiance with his lovehandles. Yeah right.

...

Peterson's Champagne House Sparkling Pinot Noir.

Which has a bouquet that smells like dog. I'm serious.

See, now you're giving me the same looks that the guy at the cellar door did. It freaking does! Not like bad dog or wet dog. Just dog.

After a furious conversation with my better half in the car, I realised that it smelled like dog fur, specifically, the lanolin that is released when you brush a big dog, like a rottweiler or a golden lab. Which is a nice warm smell.

I'm not crazy. It's my palate, not his!

Ants are eusocial insects of the family Formicidae and, along with the related families of wasps and bees, belong to the order Hymenoptera.

So I've learned something. In the small area of the Hunter Valley that I visited (just around the cottage) there are five seperate species of ants. Wikipedia was no help in identifying them, though. There were huge black ones, hugeish red ones with black heads and abdomens (which I learned are endangered Sugar Ants!), medium sized reddish-purple ones with elegant N-shaped legs, little red ones with big heads and tiny black ones. I explained these interesting facts to Tanja, who called me a schoolboy and didn't understand my enthusiasm.

I found a boll weevil too, but they're not meant to be here in Australia.

Oh, and we got seven-and-a-half cases of wine (each of which seems to be more costly than last year's cases, proof that my tastes are improving) and had some fantastic meals.

But the ants! Wow.

Ass Whiplash

So I took part in this work event called Rumble in the Park. It pits rival offices against one another in challenges. My event was called the horizontal bungee. It involves running along a jumping-castle-like-lane with a harness and three bungee cords attached to it. you run as far as you can, place a Velcro sponge on the line, then the cord snaps you back. The first run snapped me back so far that I landed on my shoulders, neck and head, then rolled backwards onto my stomach. I felt nothing then.

"Then" being the operative word.

The next morning I couldn't raise my head off the pillow. The tendons at the front of my neck were screaming, my abs (such as they are) felt strained and the muscles along my spine and neck were seized up. Cue headache. I took some Nurofen and Tanja put some Voltarin on my back which let me walk around as long as I kept my head still.

It's amazing how much your head moves when you're talking to someone on the phone while using a computer. I lasted about an hour at work before calling sick. Tanja had the number of the Sports Physio place at the University, so I booked an appointment.

Turns out I have whiplash. The Physio said I had symptoms common in car accidents Or, as he added wryly "horizontal bungee injuries." Hardy har har.

So my stomach muscles are bruised, my neck needed realignment (read: cracking) and my neck muscles and the tendons at the front of my neck needed deep-tissue-massage. Which fucking hurt. I felt ok for most of the rest of the day, the symptoms only coming back around 8:30. I have a followup scheduled today.

My neck hurts.

Also, in an odd confluence of circumstances, I hurt my nose last night. I was plugging the DVD player in behind the TV stand and I bumped the wires leading to the PS2 controllers, one of which crashed to the floor. The other, sensing what was causing danger, fell from about a 4 ft height and cracked me on the side of the nose. This, to Tanja, was the funniest thing ever. I have a bruise there now.

I'm falling apart.

Market Saturation

A strange thing occurred Wednesday. I was in the lift with Phil, Wendy, Sam and Louise from work. Phil was wearing the Commander Keen shirt I had made him the day before. I looked over and Louise had on a shirt that Mark had got her (which I also made) saying "Louise is a big dirty whore". Sam was wearing a shirt Louise had gotten her, which I had made saying "If Found, Please Return To Pub." Wendy had a shirt with two emo kids on it that I had made. The only person in the elevator without a shirt made by me...

...was me.

It was very surreal.

I do see my work around the office, though I've yet to see a stranger on the street wearing one.

One day.

Rainy Day Off

I like the sound the keyboard makes when I'm typing fast. Makes me long to have a typewriter again.

Well I'm home sick today. After the stress of Wednesday Night Live I was bone-tired last night and my back was aching (Tanja thinks it's due to the lifting and carrying of things). This mroning I woke up feeling like someone had punched me in the face and then clipped me on the back of the neck with a sledgehammer. My face all around my nose hurt and my shoulders were tense all around my spine. I took some tablets and had a hot shower, which eased the ache in my face a little, but not the back of my head. Called Farid, called in sick.

Damnit, what was I going to say? It'll come to me.

Watched Hannibal Rising this morning. Started off halfway interesting but kind of lost it in the last 30 minutes.

Oh right! That was it.

Possibly due to people in Hannibal Rising singing German folk songs (odd, since the early part of the film is set in Lithuania), I have a French Christmas song stuck in my head. I've never sung it myself, but I've seen it in lots of films and heard choirs sing it. If it comes on in a film that I'm watching with my Dad (Ronin, being a recent example) he sings along in French. Apparently, it was drilled into him as a child. Problem is, I don't know the title, or even the words. It kind of goes "da da DA da-da-da da daaa, da-da-da-dada-daa-daa-daa-daa..." Ok, that's not working. Anywhoo. I tried looking in the credits of Ronin, but there are tons of classical songs in that. I'll ask Dad next time I see him.

Stolen blatantly from TheFerrett, but you guys gotta see this.

Wow.

That Hound Dog's a mean wine....

Yesterday was the farewell party Ops support had for the coaches (who are returning to being regular-joe CSRs as of Monday). I had three or four little cups of champagne with the others, and when another bottle was sent for, I asked for a bottle of wine. I asked for a Hound Dog Cab Sav, which I had drank before and knew was *ahem* affordable. They came back with a Hound Dog Shiraz. I had two cups of that, and all of a sudden I couldn't focus. It wasn't drunkenness. It felt like I imagine a concussion must feel. I made it home, couldn't eat dinner, and promptly passed out on the bed. Two hours later I woke up with a huge headache, a queasy stomach and muscles quivering and weak. I was able to eat a bit then, with Tanja helping to keep me conscious. After downing some tablets, I had a shower and went back to bed. Twice during the night I had to take more headache tablets, and the second time a Valerian root pill to put me to sleep.

This morning I took yet more tablets and had a big breakfast, but I still felt queasy, tired, and headachey. I had a short practice with Ted, but then begged off. I still feel like crap, even after a shower, food, and still more tablets.

Tanja reckons it was the preservatives in the wine that are screwing with my system. Ugh. I dunno.

Halloween, but not Hallowe'en.

So it’s Halloween (I always hated putting the apostrophe in between the e's. It was a thing they only did at school). And for the second year in a row, I’ve done nothing. Admittedly, last year I came to work dressed as an undertaker, Craig came as Zoidberg and Rick came with a knife through his head. But we were the only ones. This year I didn’t even do that. The extent of my Halloween dress-up was to wear these shoes to work. They made my feet greener, and me taller but really weren’t all that Halloween. Sigh. On the TikiBar forums, people are posting Jack O’Lantern Tikis and on Neil Gaiman’s blog, someone posted a photo of a Neil O’Lantern. I miss punkins, even though watching them get gutted makes me throw up.

Tanja and I drank some fancy beers on the weekend. I had the idea after watching too many Diggnation episodes. We went to Vintage cellars and got some beers (mostly Belgian, one British and one German). The list was as follows:

-Two bottles of a random German doppelbock of a brand that we’d had before. Ok, not spectacular.

-Two bottles of Chemay Trappist White : A Belgian Trappist blond beer. Quite floral, but very dry as well. 8%, which is getting towards proper beer strength. Good. Thumbs up.
Two bottles of Chimay Trappist Blue : A Belgian Trappist dark beer. Quite sweet. 9%. Fuck yeah. Got the seal of approval from both me and Tanja for the next time we’re there.

-One bottle Delirium Tremens Belgian Strong Pale Ale . Apparently, the shop only gets in one case of it at a time. It’s 9.0% strength and cost $8 per 330 ml bottle. But it was smooth as silk, floral, and just really really nice. Plus the bottle was opaque ceramic. Which is awesome. Plus, it’s named after the shakes that hit when you’re detoxing. Cool.

See what happens when you try new things?

So, yeah.

Not much to update, only that Tanja and I head to the Hunter Valley in about 3 weeks time.

Work continues as work does, only more so.

My hair and fingernails continue to grow.

If you’re thinking webcomics, I’ve been reading Home On The Strange, Flaky Pastry, and of course, Penny Arcade. I’ve been looking up Alice In Wonderland (which I’m not a fan of) and a Vertigo series called Fables (which I might be if I could find it).

Zombie Ghost Train was very good, despite wasted Jane and not much money in pocket. Cat empire was great, despite (at first, soon remedied) not being able to see and standing the whole damned night.

The flies in the city and its surrounds have been fucking nuts lately.

(That’s what you get when you bug for an update, Ted.)

Optimus Prime Truck is going for 50K on eBay!

You'd be the coolest dad picking up kids from school in this thing.

"The Optimus Prime replica is being auctioned for $50k on eBay's Canada store. The seller has converted a 1994 Peterbilt into Hollywood's version of Prime, complete with blue and red flame paint job, dozens of chrome switches, and a 17-inch entertainment system floating above the bunk in the back. The only thing it lacks is its abilit[...]"

read more digg story

Busy, busy, busy.

So I have a busy weekend ahead of me. Tonight, Tanja, Ted and I are going to see the Cat Empire at the Metro. Should be awesome. As this is Ted's first Cat Empire show, I hope they're going to be on-form. I reminded Ted (who had forgotten that he gave me ticket money) who then reminded me about band practice with JesusPete Saturday morning (which I had forgotten about). Making my weekend that much busier because Ted and I are going to see Zombie Ghost Train again at the Annandale Saturday night. The show starts at 8:15, but ZGT doesn't come onstage until 11. So Ted and I are going to go early and drink. :)

All this is of course compounded by the fact that Tanja is on Study leave for the next three days (and last night) to write her BIG-ASS MAJOR ESSAY. Which means she's understandably stressed. So I'm walking quietly at home. That not hard. The hard part is MY stressing that SHE'S stressing. This is no fault of hers. Example: my father came over to borrow some movie last night. Due to his wonderful timing, he showed up just as we were about to start dinner. He was also in a taking-the-piss mood, and didn't know why I was acting so twitchy and odd (I was the equivalent of Bruce Willis in Die Hard 2: Die Harder, kneeling on the runway, waving torches to stop the plane trying to innocently land, unaware that it's going to crash and burn on the runway). He saw her piles of post-it notes that she had arranged to help her organise her argument. "You missed a spot. And they're out of order" he says. (Wave, wave, pull up!) Tanja, slightly tersely, explained what they were. "Why would you do that? (wavewavewave, stop!) Tanja starts eating, and my food starts to get cold. I was acting so twitchy and tense that Dad left, thinking I was a bit batty (and slightly narky with me for being short 'n' sharp with him). I gave myself a tension migraine in that 15 minute time that nearly comatose'D me for the rest of the evening.

So yes. Now at work. They've cut off the booze run today because legal bigwigs will be walking the floor. Bugger.

Doov, doov, doov.

Well, it seems headphone karma is after me. While I was on my way to Ted's yesterday, casually thinking of looking for some behind-the-neck headphones so I can wear hats with a brim, and the right speaker craps out on me. It'll only work when I hold the cord a certain way. Bugger. So I stop in at a local hi-fi shop that sells them, and ask about the warranty I know comes with all Sennheiser headphones. He explains I need to take it back to JB and they'll usually send me a new pair. Cool. While I'm there, I notice they're selling behind-the-neck headphones in the same model, quality, and price point ($129) as the ones that just broke. On a impulse, I buy them, thinking that I'll try and find the receipt for the broken ones, but even if I don't, I'll still have good ones. I go to Ted's I practice, I come home. Leter that evening, Tanja and I can't find the reciept. So I can't return them, despite their crapping out 7 months into the 2-year contract.

So it's fate, see?

Wow.

I thought I had seen it all, then I saw this:

HMS Pinafore. Done as a Star Trek Musical.

And this is a great idea too. Think of the momentum!

Also, is it wrong to want a second set of earphones so you can wear hats that your over-the-head-but-awesome-earphones won't fit over?

ständiger Konkurrenzkampf

I now have proof that Tanja is a girl (aside from the obvious).

Now, this takes a bit of explaining. At the backdoor of the house, there is a hallway that leads to the door. We’ll often leave that back door open for the cat to wander out into the backyard. That hallway is also where we stack the recycling before we take it out. Since we had pizza the night before last, there was a pizza bow on the floor. Tanja and I were watching Spicks and Specks and she wandered up to the backdoor to look for the cat, and then quietly had a peek inside the pizza box.

Then let out a blood-curdling yelp:

“Oh my God, Lucas, there’s a RAAAAAAT!!!!!”

I’m not sure caps can communicate the shrill horror of that shriek.

I came tearing up the hallway. She was pale and freaking out and pointing at the box.

“What?” says I. “A rat? Where?”

“It’s a rat or a possum! It’s in the pizza box! It’s moving!”

“Well, how big is it?”

*Tanja holds her hands about a foot and a bit apart* “I’m sure it’s a possum!”

Right. First I shoo away Magrat, who is hovering like someone who’s just found silver ingots while digging a new privy. I carefully hold down the edges of the pizza box, holding it shut, and lift it up, expecting at any moment for a possum (which near us are the size of small cats) to start freaking out in the box, and carry it into the backyard. Tanja unlocks the gate and I set the pizza box down on the pavement of the alley like I’m carrying a bomb. Then flip open the lid of the box.

To see a little rat. Maybe four inches long. Brown fur and pink tail. Cute as a button, washing its ears.

It scampers off under cover of darkness.

I turn back to Tanja. She looks, to her credit, a trifle embarrassed.

“Foot and a half, huh?”

“Shut up. I squealed like a girl.”

“Yes, you did.”

So I bugged her about it a few times. Then, karmically, this morning I poured my cereal into the bowl, went to the fridge, got the jug of orange juice, started to pour then went “Oh shit!” and stopped. So I had slightly orangey meusli. So nobody’s perfect. (Even Steven strikes again!)

Personal Growth

So this morning on the way in, I stopped by the Campos coffee stand by Central station. I was going to get myself one, and I had messaged Adrian, as he usually has one too. He hadn’t replied, but I know his network plays up sometimes, so I ordered him a coffee anyway. Mine: Strong Flat White with Two Sugars and Vanilla shot. His, same but with Caramel shot.

Then I got to work and realised that Adrian was off sick.

Now, once upon a time, I would have drunk both coffees which (combined with my one at-home coffee) would have had me jittering around the office for the rest of the day. However, I did not do that.

I gave Adrian’s coffee away.

I think this shows I’ve grown as a person.

Mug!

Adrian has come back from Hawaii. And he has brought with him a wonderful thing.

It's a Tiki Mug. It's a monkey's head with a fez on it.

It's awesome.



Adrian said "It's two of your favourite things: monkeys, and fezes."

I corrected him: "FOUR things. Monkeys, Fezes, Tiki and booze!"

Ted and Adrian got to witness my truly-happy-dance.

If you don’t want my peaches, baby, why’d you shake my tree?

In other words, if the world doesn’t want me to get angry, why does it keep doing STUPID THINGS?!?

So. I emerged from a nightmare of bureaucratic horror this morning (a bureaucrat being defined (by Dictionary.com no less) as “an official who works by fixed routine without exercising intelligent judgment”). I’ve been trying to get my passport renewed, which has been made difficult by the following facts:

1. The passport office is only open until 12 on weekdays.
2. It’s a labyrinth of paperwork and authorisations.
3. I’m really lazy so haven’t done the work in the months leading up to the deadline of the 8th of November.

Ok, first there are the forms. I fill them out, and hit the first roadblock. I don’t have a guarantor. A guarantor is classified as a banker, minister or lawyer who has known you personally for two years or more. I refuse to associate with these people, except my mother, who doesn’t count due to having birthed me. So there’s another form to fill out. And get notarised. Now, this morning, I was meant to start at 11 am. I cleared it with Rick to come in later if need be due to all the running around. So. First thing’s first. I’ve got to get my passport photos.

They take the most wretched photo I’ve ever seen. Say it’ll be 30 minutes. So I hang around Newtown waiting. Come back. Instead of giving me the photos in the legally required format of four-square, they’ve cut the photos individually. I say no, I need them together. They say it’ll be another 10 minutes. I wait, grab the pictures, and then go to the courthouse to get the ill-tempered Justices of the Peace there (Justice-of-the-Peaces? Justi of the Peace?) to notarise all the documents (which include a photocopy of my passport, despite the real passport being in the pack, because hey, I refer to the passport in a different sub-section of the paperwork).

I ask them to sign the photos first. She taps a sign. “WE DO NOT NOTARISE PASSPORT APPLICATIONS OR PHOTOS”. Fuck. Well, who does? She says she could print me a list, and then disappears back into the cubicles. I wait. Another guy asks if he can help. I start to explain, but he taps the sign again and says “We don’t sign photos.” “I KNOW! I just need to know who does.”

So he prints me a three-page list of JPs. Just phone numbers. No names. It is at this point I realise that the photos were not stamped on the back with where they were printed and when, making them invalid. I go back to the camera shop. They stamp the photos. With difficulty.

But before I do this, I call Tanja. Saying it’s all a fucking shambles. That I can’t get things notarised. And now I don’t have time to go to the consulate today.

She says I probably should have been better organised.

I reply incredibly rationally to this comment. I’m so calm it’s scary. I deliver a treatise on bureaucratic socialism and economic reform (Ok, no, I ranted and raved and was stupid, but give me a break).

So I come in to work, remembering a throwaway comment made by Rick that the Big Boss is a JP. I see the Boss on the way in. No, he says, I’m not a JP.

At this point I went numb.

So anyway, I’m relating this to Tanja via email that no, Big Boss can’t notarise stuff.

Tanja: "It's just ridiculous, isn't it. Can you call the consulate back and see if they can verify everything for you? I think I saw that on the paperwork that they will do this, but charge an additional $50 for it. Perhaps you can just take everything in and sort it out then and there."

Me: *furiously telephones the consulate in the two minutes left before 12 and finds out that yes, you can do that* “Hey, we can!”

Tanja: “Whosaclevergirlthen!”

Yes, she is.

They're gonna put me in the movies...
They're gonna make a big star outta me....
They've wrote a role for a man that's pissed and angry...
And all I have to do is... act naturally.....

Running! Sort of.

Man, making today the first day to attempt to Cecil-style run to work was not a good idea. First, it's fucking hot. Second, since I had changed into board shorts and a t-shirt, I was carrying work clothes in my bag. Which made my bag heavy. Too heavy, in fact, to run. So I walked quickly. And then I forgot to lock the front door. So I went back, dug my keys out of my very-full bag (damn board shorts having no pockets!) and locked the door. And left again. Then had to come back because I forgot the passport paperwork I had promised Tanja I'd bring. Then had to dig out my keys to UNlock the door. And then on the way to work I saw my Dad outside of where he's staying. He waves at me, and I cross the street. "Hey." "Hey Dad. Can't talk, I'm going to work." "This late?" "I start at 11 today, Dad. I've gotta go." "Why?" My father, ladies and gents. So Despite being all late to the point of ridiculousness, I only arrived like 5 minutes late for work. Whew.

Free malling

Yet ANOTHER reason why Parkour is so damned cool.

Oh, well.

Ok, now I'm mad.

I noticed through the Diggnation podcast yesterday that EA was giving away Command & Conquer Gold as Freeware. Fucking great, right? I loved that game like some kind of computerised, violent, surrogate child. So I download the ISO file, all 500 megs of GDI and 500 Megs of Nod disc. So I extract the files to a folder and try to run the install.

(( Error: Not all files are present. Please run the installation from the CD-ROM. ))

I don't HAVE the CD-ROM!

I've tried it every which way. I downloaded a patch off the website, tried running install within WinRAR, tried using the Autorun feature in the file. No fucking go. Knew it was too good to be true.

You, a little bit of me, and some ThunderCats toys are gonna change the wine world, whether they like it or NOT."

I know I've been pimping Podcasts lately (what with forcing people to watch TikiBar by grabbing them and holding them in front of my iPod, and forcing flashdrives full of Diggnation episodes on Ted and Adrian) but I have another one to spruik. It's Wine Library TV. Although of interest mainly to the Adrian crowd (though they do a Prosecco episode Craig might like), it's still great. The guy (who is an exciteable New Jersey guy) talks about stuff like a wine having a nose like the banana candy out of a Runts box (do they have Runts in Australia?) or another wine having a plasticky, action-figure-y smell. Heh. Then there's the episode he decides to find out if the clod climate has an effect on the enjoyment of wine. So he drags the camera crew out into the blowing-snow-minus-20 New Jersey winter. Then tastes wine in his parka and beanie. Awesome. It's in my Blogger links at the bottom now. Go check it out!

Colbert: "Kids won't stand idly by. They'll go home and blog it."

For some reason Digg won't let me blog this.

So go here:
http://rawstory.com//news/2007/Colbert_Todays_kids_dont_know_how_0920.html
Make sure you watch the video at the bottom.

Is it ironic that I see an article about how people need blogs to express opinions, and my first instinct is that I need to blog it?

I'm going to kill something.

Cust called to check when his appointment was for PIK. Advised that Churn is not completed. WSBASL codes still on line. Rapid Churn is TRUE, so they are being removed. Once they are removed, cust must call back and arranged PIK.

I experienced two moments of such anger in the last two days, that I was nearly put to tears. It was that bad. Incandescent rage.

Yesterday, I was playing a newly-acquired Final Fantasy X2, and enjoying it. I was getting used to the controls and getting through the missions quickly. Then I finished a Chapter. I went back to the ship where you save the game. And there was a quest, which really should have been an optional side-mission. But it wasn't. It was essential or the fucking game wouldn't progress. You had to get out of an elevator and push four musicians into it. Three were big and easy to move. The fourth was a little midget. A little, red-capped, hopping-like-a-cymbal-monkey midget.

It took me an hour and fifteen minutes.

The worst thing was that halfway up the hall, there was a camera-switch, which meant you had to change direction on the pad quickly, and you usually lost him. I actually got him all the way to the end once, and then he hopped away.

I roared at the TV. Loud. Scaring Tanja and the neighbours.

This did help, actually, because Tanja saw I was so distressed that she helped me by calling out instructions.

I got it, eventually, but I SAVED that game-bitch after I got past that mission. Twice.

The other moment was this morning, and just to let you know, this makes me come off as vain and self-obsessed.

I have discovered, again with Tanja's help, in the last few days that if I very carefully blow-dry my hair straight on medium-heat, I can hair hair that looks enough like human hair to leave the house with. Without, this is important to say, wearing a hat for 6 hours.

So I blow-dried my hair this morning and it was perfect. I was so proud. Not only did I look like a human, but I had done it without having to wear a hat for 6 hours.

So I walked to work, happily listening to the Diggnation podcast, walking along Cleveland St. Then, between Regent and Abercrombie Sts, a mighty wind struck.

First in front of me, then behind me. A traffic-light-shaking, sign-waving, hair destroying wind. I went from having perfect hair to looking like Keanu Reeves from Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure. I nearly cried.

I was able to flatten it down a bit when I got to work, but it's a shadow of its former glory. Sigh.

Oh yeah, and also...

I updated Insprite, thank all that is good and holy.

Ha!

So this morning, Tanja was in bed and I sat down on the edge of the bed to ask her something. I accidently sat on her leg, causing the following outburst:

"God! You're as graceful as a baby element!"

It was several minutes before I could recover from the snorting, body-wracking laughter that had me in its grip. I'm still chuckling now, even writing this.

I wish my facial hair was emo. That way it'd cut itself.

I often, when I'm going to be in a place for more than five minutes at a time, take an odd or interesting picture with my phone and make it my wallpaper. I wish I had a feature on my phone that would choose the wallpaper based on where I was and what I was doing. Like it'd show the work building when I'm at work, or a pile of paper when I was a TAFE, or the drumkit when I'm practicing. I think people would pay for that feature.

As per an example, I was at Marrickville Metro Woolworths this morning (which is a goddamn zoo on Saturdays), standing 6th in a line of 7 people at the express checkout. I took a picture of one of the people in front of me buying 14 sticks of butter and a canteloupe (was he going to deep-fry it? I don't know). Admittedly, I was getting funny looks too, carrying a toothbrush, dental floss, and a 1 kilo bag of sugar. Not the sonic toothbrush. I have enough trouble with the vibrating razor.

Despite my hatred of JayJays as a whole and my hatred of buying printed shirts that I haven't made, I have somehow ended up with a t-shirt, from JayJays, with Darth Vader on the front saying "Your Empire needs you." Go figure.

Just a hint: Mixers at work+Madras curry chicken pizza+Jager+half a bottle of wine+an incredibly beautifully mixed cosmo=one growly stomach the next day.

We've finally properly introduced Ashleigh to the TikiBar podcast. She likey. Hooray! Now we just have to convince Tanja.

When you wear shorts, your shoes feel huuuuuge. Like they're sticking out.

Oh, and Beck's Guerolito? Awesome.

"iPod, iPod, why hast thou forsaken me?!?"

So my iPod made me late today.

I plugged the 'Pod in last night, knowing it would erase the 12000-odd files I had on there and replace them with about 11984 more. It took most of the night to do the erasing. It started the upload at 8:15 this morning.

I got up, ate my breakfast, watch Tenacious D: The Pick of Destiny. Fun times. Dave Grohl played the Devil. Sporadically checked on the 'Pod. Still uploading. I make myself a sandwich for lunch, make the bed, stack the dishwasher, get dressed. Ready to go.

Still uploading.

I work at 11. If I want to walk I need to leave by 10.

10 goes by. Still uploading.

Ok, fine. I can leave at 10:10, catch a bus, and still be to work with time to spare.

10:15. Still uploading.

Ok, it's ok. I can catch a train if I leave at 10:20. That'll still get me there in time to load my systems.

10:25. Still uploading. Shit.

10:30.

10:39. Still uploading.

If I leave now, I can catch a train and JUST get there on time.

So I left.

For the first time in a year and 6 months, I left for work without an iPod of some kind.

I feel naked.

Postscript: Saw "Perfume: Story of a Murderer". The Moral of the story: "If I had only known what sex was, I wouldn't have had to become a creepy fetishist serial killer and distill women into perfumes. Oh, and that the right scent can turn a lynch mob into an orgy. Be told."

FUCK!

We bought a 320 Gb external hard drive. Great news, right? We can start storing the 50 gigs or so on music and pictures I have on here on the drive. Well, there was an unforseen hitch.

I dragged the contents of the My Music folder onto the drive.

What I expected to happen was what happened beofre when I'd delete the original of a movie, but left its file name in iTunes: It stays on my iPod, but not on the computer. Well, when I moved the iTunes folder, it didn't just leave empty file names in iTunes, waiting for me to link them to the actual files.

It erased everything out of the library.

I still have all the files, but I have no playlists, no organisation, no nothing. Oh, and those aforementioned movies that I'd deleted from the harddrive? They'll remove themselves the minute I plug my iPod into the computer.
Modern fucking technology, eh?

You little fucknubbin!

So yesterday after work I met up with Ashleigh and later Ted and Craig at the Rose for inane chatter and amusingly named cocktails (Ash had a Monica Lewinsky. I had a less-amusingly-named but very nice Poached Pear and Ginger Daquiri). Anyhoo, under the thumb as I was, i headed home at 7. Had lovely vindaloo made by Tanja and watched Licence to Kill.

Then we realised we hadn't seen the cat in like three hours.

After a frantic search of her usual hiding places reveal no pussycat, we came to the worrying conclusion that she must have escaped outside.We thought she must have scooted out either when I arrived, or when I put the garbage out.I grabbed the bag of cat food, and wandered around the neighbourhood, shaking it plaintively. Despite sighting two cats, neither was ours. Tanja then joined me and we both looked.No joy. It was getting close to midnight and we got back to the house, resolving (shakily) to call the RSPCA and Cat Protection Society in the morning. Then Tanja went into the backyard and heard something. A quiet, plaintive meow. She called to me, and I did the stupid movie thing:

Tanja: "Listen! I think I hear her!"
*beat*
Me: "I don't hear anythi-"
Tanja: "SHUT UP!" (lol)

We could hear her voice coming from either the backyard next to us, or the one behind that. Cue us running to our neighbours door. Knocking. No answer. Tried the next one along. Woke up a little old lady who let us into her backyard (and was very polite for someone who had just been woken up at midnight). No cat. I stood on her fence to look into the yard between ours and hers. And saw a little white face. I went into the back alley again and found a way to push in the roller-door to the yard and squeeze through. Retrieved the cat, who scratched me for her troubles.

My exact quote: "You stupid cat! I'm going to beat you until candy comes out!"

So we have her again. And her backyard priveliges have been revoked (it turns out she climbed the fence and jumped over. I didn't let her out after all). Tanja and I were relaxing in bed, de-stressing, and I mentioned that this was good practice for parenting.

She gave me an evil look and said "If you ever lose my kids like this I'll beat you."

I patted her head.

"Don't worry honey. I'd never tell you anything like that."

Human Germ!!!

• Blowing up human jets as a Decepticon helicopter is more fun than it should be. Puny earthlings! You dare?!?
  
• A good soundtrack for this game? Maybe I should make an album:
  

Primus - Hellbound 17 1/2 (Theme From)

Soil - Breaking Me Down

Kidney Thieves - Before I Die

Marilyn Manson - Personal Jesus

Primus – Lacquer Head

Cherrybomb – Manitoba

Voodoo People – Prodigy

• Less so? The Waitress, by the Waifs. Stupid Random iPod.
  
• Man, Bumblebee handles like crap. Well, at least in his early form.
  
• Blackout does burnouts like a Decepticon should. Oh, and running head-on into a police car, and watching it fly up, physics be damned (the only explanation is that Transformers are MUCH denser and have a hell of a lot more mass than Earth materials), and then you fire a missile on the way down and blow it to slag? Awesome.
  
• You get great spanking firearms in this game, but much like Path of Neo, they only work against the lowest-level enemies (basic drones, and humans). Anything above that has a shield that works for missiles and bullets.
  
• And hey! Starscream sounds like Odo from DS9 (he's not, though. I checked).

Blast!

Here I am, up at 9:02 am on my day off and there's NO ONE in TikiBarTV Chat. Of course, there's USUALLY no one there, due to our being on the other side of the world. Stupid hemisphere.

That's it. I'm going to go play Transformers: The Game on PS2.

...

Stupid Autobots. I don't WANT to drive, save people, then drive. I want to blow shit up! If I wanted to chase people, then fight for five seconds, then chase again, I'd play Ultimate Spider-Man. Again.

The Decepticon missions should be more blowing-shit-up intensive.

...

WTF, how am I supposed to level an army base in two minutes?

I need more coffee.

Cough Cough.

Despite sleeping poorly and waking up with a stuffy nose, sinus headache, and sore throat, I was overshadowed. First at work, by the fact that everyone and their dog was as sick if not sicker than me (including 70% of my and Craig's team, my boss, and my fellow coaches). So I had a LemSip and, in the words of Chopper Read, hardened the fuck up. Secondly, once I got home, it seems that Tanja had hurt her leg just below the knee in an unknown mishap, causing her to hobble about and be generally immobile. So I did the running around. Sigh. No time to be sick. Got a world to run.

Checked the online TV guide tonight and saw to my delight that Spicks and Specks was showing, despite it being a Monday. Great, said I. So I killed the hour between then and 8:30, watching Top Gear, which (surprisingly) I thoroughly enjoyed, despite not being a car guy, and the presence of Steve Coogan, who I still think is a wanker. They actually had these two guys, who were experts in parkour (free running), as seen in Casino Royale, racing a guy in a car across Liverpool. They used a combination of gymnastics, capoeira, and general athleticism to, well, generally run around being awesome and jumping things. Unfortunately, the Monday-night Spicks/Specks was not to be. I read the wrong column. People in Queensland got to see it instead. Bugger.

Oh, and I bought a pair of Converse Chuck Taylor All-Stars for $40. Score.

This made me snort. In an empty room.

Which is less embarrassing, I guess*.

And some Mormons or Witnesses or Satanists or something came to the door this morno. They had a bible bookmarked to Revalation and they wanted to tell me about it. I wanted to lie and say "I've just been masturbating! Shake?" and then stick out my hand.
But I was polite. I just said "Not interested." and shut the door. Why do people pretend to be not home, or hide behind the couch? I just don't get it.



*This too: http://www.penny-arcade.com/comic/2007/07/23

I, Drinkbot

This is too cool for words.

Weekendaru!

So, my weekend:

Saturday:

Had practice with Ted in the morno. Love my new cowbell and my splash upside down on the crash (for all that hitting the underside of the splash dents it). Makes me much faster on the left side of the kit, for all that it now sounds a bit disco-like. Songs are coming along too. Ted and I are slowly agreeing that we can do a three-song grouping (maybe a medley?) off the White Stripes new album(songs 8, 9, and 10). I enjoy this as it gives me the chance to do my Jack-White-snake-oil-salesman-vocal-impression. Also, I broke my first drumstick ever! I hit the cymbal and the left stick split along the grain and cracked in half. Just about took my eye out. As much of a fun milestone as this is, it was from the good pair of sticks I just bought. Oh well. I borrowed 5 more CDs off of Ted. I need to stop doing that. Listen to the ones you have, Lucas, don’t get more!

Later that evening, I was set to go to Alexandria and take pictures of David as he played, but he called up at the last minute saying he was sick as the proverbial. So free evening. Tanja and I got picked up a few bottles of vino, and settled in to watch movies. First was Thank You For Smoking. Very dark and funny. Highly recommended. At that point we were through a litre of Sauvignon Blanc/Chardonnay blend. Then we started on the Merlot. And a little movie called Blood Diamond. The movie was stopped several times for booze-fuelled argument and discussion. Eventually (with about half a glass left in the 1-litre bottle of Merlot), I had to turn it off. That much senseless violence (and not cool Sin City or Scream violence, before Craig rebuts) I just can’t stomach. Apparently even my hard-bitten Dad took three tries to get through it. Went to bed.

Sunday:

Urgh. Slightly hungover. Fixed with Panadol dissolvable and back rub from Tanja. Hooray! So then we head off to Taronga Zoo with before-mentioned hard-bitten Dad. Had lots of fun, despite Tanja’s lunch noodles being seemingly solid garlic. Took lots of pictures. Once again had the thought that tigers seem to be the big cats who remind me most of small cats. Lions are lions, leopards are leopards, but tigers are big Magrats.

No One Knows.

I was typing an email and I saw that I had misspelled "over" as "ofver". So I went back and deleted the v. Leaving ofer. And the other day after making my sandwich in the morning I (according to Tanja, who found it later) left the pepper mill in the fridge. Yesterday it was the remote left on the bathroom counter. This morning I found myself blowing on a spoonful of cereal to cool it down, as if it was soup. And yesterday...

...see, that's the problem. There was an incident yesterday that triggered this blog entry in my head and now I can't remember it!

I'm losing my mind.

2: A great dessert number. Serve very cold with strawberries and 9.

Got a huge order for shirts from Evan. 25 this time. So I've started cutting. I ordered the blanks on Saturday, and they were delivered this morning. Fucking hell! That's service.

And the coaching semina-thingie that was meant to defien our jobs went ok. I'm still not entirely sure how to do what I'm supposed to be doing, but I've got a better idea of what "what I'm supposed to be doing" is.

Lost Highway of Dooooom

After getting a $20 iTunes voucher from Maxine Kauter for taking pictures at her gig (which was really nice of her), I made a bunch of iTunes purchases. About 90% were from the pages of two issues of Mojo and one issue of Q that I've bought over the past month or so. Most of the ones from the magazines I'd never heard before, so I was downloading blind. I just got the ones whose descriptions sounded like something I'd enjoy.
And I learned something.
I'm a moody atmospheric bugger.

I learned this because I listened to the list on the way to work today. Here's the playlist, for those of you who care:

• Gloria - Patti Smith
• Tangled Up In Blue - Bob Dylan (in honour of Maxine, who covered this beautifully at her show)
• Fiery Crash - Andrew Bird
• Chills & Fever - Jack O and the Tennessee Tearjerkers
• Dirty Nails - Jack O and the Tennessee Tearjerkers
• Herculean - The Good, The Bad, and The Queen
• Smells Like Teen Spirit - Patti Smith (which is actually really cool)
• Weapon of Choice - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
• Ghosts of You And Me - Soulsavers
• Knocked Up - Kings of Leon
• No Pussy Blues - Grinderman
• Get It On - Grinderman
  

God, played all together like that, it sounds like the soundtrack to a David Lynch movie.

Book Leave

Blast! I'm ten pages from the end of the latest Harry Potter book. I bought it Saturday. stupid work. There should TOTALLY be book leave.

I did a similar thing when we went to Melbourne. I had 30 pages left of the second John Birmingham WW2.2 book. I stayed up until 1 am reading the night before we left before giving up. And on the way back, I bought the third book and was seventy pages in before I finished the second.

Be Told!

My meusli kicks Tyrone's (Tanja's Sister's Boyfriend's) meusli's ass.

Back now.

Didn't blog everyday due to coin-op computers and a pile of high-school people at the hotel.

Went around Melbourne. Bought things (Star Trek and Simpsons DVDs, but NOT I may add cool wingtip shoes). Ate good food (and bad buffet food. We don't learn). Saw Tanja's sister. Saved Tanja's sister's boyfriend from Death By Tanja (he made light of her glass-ceiling-women-get-less-money-for-same-work coversation and nearly lost his left testicle. It was a thing). Took off with my camera for an afternoon and had a disastrous public transport experience (equivalent of trying to go from the city to Newtown and ending up in Emu Plains). Saw new Harry Potter film (meh). Slept in leaking waterbed at Tanja's sister's place. Watched my facial hair and fingernails grow as I had neglected razor and clippers. Flew home. Bought a book on the way back, which was odd.

Back to work on Wednesday. Well. I say work. Coaching role. So kind of work.

Melbourne, Day 2

Last night went to Melbourne's Italian street for some foodage. After the guy in the bottle shop recommending wine and a band called At The Drive-In (Ted, you'd like them), we went looking. Apparently competition is so great that the maitre d's of the restaurants have to stand outside trying to entice you in if you're walking past. God forbid you look at the menu. They start speaking Italian, offering to make you a special deal, it's wretched. I tried to explain to Tanja that if she lets me head butt just ONE, then it'll go through the grapevine and all the others will leave me the hell alone. “Oh, no. You don't want to mess with that guy.” Anywho, we had a fantastic meal. Tanja had linguine vongole (little clams) and I had rigatoni matriciana (bacon, spring onions, garlic and chili). Then after watching Die Another Day (even in another city, we can't stop watching James Bond), an unfitful night of sleep (the pillows are too flat), day two began.

With a breakfast buffet. Eggs under a hot light bulb, sawdust sausages and ersatz coffee.

Ew.

So we commiserated at Max Brenner chocolate cafe. We wandered up Flinders and Brunswick streets today. I was denied Rockabilly clothing (apparently I have too many clothes), we rode a tram, and then had a giant pizza. Each. I picked up the White Stripes Live Under Blackpool Lights DVD and Johnny Cash's American IV. Neato.
However, my poor Tanja seems to have caught something on the plane and isn't feeling well. So we're retiring early. I told her Jaegermeister would knock that out of her system, but no go. On to day 3!

Melbourne, Day 1

In Melbourne now. I've learned a few things. There are bars EVERYWHERE. Delis have bars. Cafes have bars. Even BARS have bars. Even, saints be praised, MYER has a bar in the basement. Oh, and everything interesting you want to see is ALWAYS on the other side of the street. And you never get back around to it.

Live Earth

Went to Live Earth on Saturday with David. I shall sum up in my usual bullet-point style.
:: Tons of people. Official records say 45000. Yet, oddly enough, didn't seem crowded. You could move freely on the floor or (as we did later) up in the seats.

:: Free water! Nice to see a festival taking responsibility.

:: Sneaky Sound System were good, but would have been better for a night groove as opposed to the sunny afternoon spot they got. The reverse for Jack Johnson, who got second-to-last spot.

:: Chai Tent! David got what he referred to as the best authentic Chai he'd had in a while, and I ate dahl (which is the only lentils I'll eat) and it was chilled out 60s and 70s soul and reggae. Solid.

:: Very positive vibe throughout the whole event. Only saw one punch-up with security and that was dealt with quickly. No beer-fuelled mayhem.

:: Big downer: They wouldn't let you leave. No stamped hands or anything. The theory was that because the tickets were barcoded, we could pass them out through the fence and others could get in. Of course that meant you had to pay for slightly over-priced food and WAY-overpriced beer. I bought the former sparingly and the latter not at all. The larger downside came when the temperature dropped and we couldn't go to Dave's down the street and get a sweater or a jacket. Happily, I had gloves and a beanie in my bag which Dave borrowed (making him, with his full beard, look like a homeless guy) and I zipped up to the chin. Brrr.

:: We missed Blue King Brown and Toni Collette and the Finish. Oh well.

:: Eskimo Joe are WAY overwrought. FULL - OF - EMOOOOOOOTION!

:: Wolfmother were terrible. Not only could they not hold up the energy of their albums, not only was their singer clearly pissed, but the sound was atrocious, just for them. Zero high end. No treble. That meant no lead guitar, just the bottom end of the rhythm guitar, no cymbals in the drum kit, and the singer trying a LOT harder to carry the show. Despite his changing guitars four times for five songs. And whenever he'd walk away from the lead mic to (apparantly) shred out a solo, they'd turn his vocal mic down. Then when he'd run back to it to say "Hello, Sydney!" or sing some more, it didn't work. Dreadful. They got a huge ovation walking onstage but the audience enthusiasm waned in about 30 seconds.

:: John Butler Trio were incredible. Talent up the wazoo.

:: Missi Higgins was surprisingly good. She really can sing, and she was going off onstage and having fun.

:: Jack Johnson nearly put me to sleep. See early about sundrenched afternoons and NOT chilly evenings.

:: Crowded House very very good as well, and it was quite cool to have 45000 people singing along to EVERY song (except the one off their new album). Plus they did that thing where they get all the other artists back onstage to sing Better Be Home Soon with them. And John Butler brought his baby onstage. Daaawwwww.

:: Very well planned public transport. After the gig was over, I was back at Central 20 minutes later.


So yes. Good experience. Glad I got to go (still wouldn't have paid $99 or more for a ticket, but still). Also, my first festival! So woo hoo.

Meezes (edited with right pictures)

Look! It's Craig!

And now Ted.

And me.

And Adrian.

And Mikey.

And Ashleigh.

Fronglais.

I came to the realisation yesterday that my French is never going to be decently fluent again. One of the trainees i had yesterday was as fluent speaker and he had me on the ropes trying to keep up. It's actually not the phrasing or the sentence structure. It's the blasted vocabulary. I found myself struggling for the French word for "meaning" (Ha! Searching for meaning). It was very embarrassing. I'm still able to fully understand what he says, I just can't speak back more than half a sentence.

Oh, and on a plus note, these trainees actually had half a brain. Most of the night guys tend to (possibly due to the fact they have other jobs) so teaching them was way easier than my ratbag day people. Unfortunately, I only get them one day out of the month they're in training. They said they were going to bug TTT and get me put on more shifts. Because they learns from me :).

Oh, and I broke my own record yesterday. I bought a shirt at 12:07, cut a stencil, painted it, sealed it, and it was ready when I left at 1:30. Bam.

And we thought we were giant uberNerds.

We were wrong.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=akNJ6S2UqsE

Woo hoo!

It seems that after a call from David (whose show at the Sando I'll be photographing Thursday) I now have a free ticket to LiveEarth! Holy crap!

Transformovie.

I saw Transformers with Adrian, Craig, Ted, Damo, and Adrian's non-nerd boytoy (who looked slightly uncomfortable with all the geekery).

WOW!

Very glad I saw it on the big screen. Big with the action. It was the first film I've seen where people spontaneouesly cheered at several points throughout the film (main title, Optimus Prime's first sighting in truck mode, and Megatron's ass-kicking first line "I...am Megatron!")

THE GOOD:

[-] Heavy on the robo-action. Thank fuck.

[-] Heavy on the feeling, depsite the slight cheesiness of the writing. For example, when one of the Autobots (won't say who) is killed (and when I say killed, I mean grabbed by arms and legs and ripped in fucking half.) my jaw dropped and I gasped loudly exactly as I did when I was 5, seeing Brawn shot by Megatron in the first TF movie. I turned to Adrian and saw the exact same look on his face. Whoa.

[-] "One shall stand, one shall fall." GOOSEBUMPS.

[-] Frenzy! Despite his slightly alien look and wierd, Ewok-like speech, the little bugger kicked a ridiculous amount of ass and had the highest bodycount of all the Decepticons bar Megatron. Oh, and for those of you who aren't Adrian or me, here's the difference:

Old Frenzy

New Frenzy

[-] Bumblebee as Camero worked surprisingly well. I didn't miss the Vee-Dub at all.

[-] "It seems you have failed me again, Starscream." Bwa ha ha ha.

[-] Geeking out with Craig and Adrian afterwards.

[-] Lots of other stuff too.

THE BAD

[-] The amount of moving parts of the robot forms (most of which were steel grey), made it hard to distinguish an detail when two of the robots were fighting. They're just a smush of blurred motion.

[-] The pigeon-holing of African-American-street-culture-through-the-filter-of-white-suburban-writers grated on me. For example, instead of Jazz using outdated, near-beatnik phrasing as he did in the show, he talked like Fifty-Cent. Despite it being a funny scene, I could have lived the rest of my life without have heard Optimus Prime say "My bad."

[-] So much military stock footage. It seemed the first half of the movie was tanks, planes and jeeps driving and flying around.

[-] Decepticons, for the most part, looked great, but went down like pussies in three seconds. Except Starscream. Who disappeared for 20-minute stretches, then showed up, then disappeared again.

Oh, and the Simpsons trailer. Gotta see that. Go Spider-Pig!

Inspiration Blogging.

Found the sheet with all the things on it. In no particular order:

:: Our cat is a heater whore. She flattens out, pancake like in from of it. It's embarrassing.

:: I actually used the phrase "Out on the piss" in casual conversation. I'm being influenced by Aussies, damn it!

:: The Holiday:
-->Halfway through the film "The Holiday" I suddenly and shockingly wanted pub-style fish and chips.
--> Jem (the singer from the Holiday soundtrack, not the cartoon from the 80s) has purchasing influence. I can recall having that album playing for two weeks at Borders, at the end of which, the entire female population of the shop staff bought a copy of the CD. Uncanny.
-->Awww. In "The Holiday", there's a hobbit gate. We don't have a hobbit gate! I want a Hobbit gate.
-->Jude Law is a young Michael Caine. And Jack Black is adorable (and loves Ennio Morricone).
--> "Why do I always go for the bad girl!"
"You didn't know she was bad."
"I knew she wasn't good!"

:: Custard and Almond together taste of butter. I'm not sure why.

:: We bought a dining table from IKEA. I guess that makes us grown-ups now. We still haven't used it yet.

:: Cheat codes in video games. I don't like them. I might use them once, for about two minutes, but I never save a game with them on. I burned myself out with the DULLARD code for Mortal Combat II.

:: Australian and English children articulate a ridiculous amount more than their parents do. It's astounding.

:: Magazines. I buy them and rarely finish them. Nor do I ever like them that much either. And yet I buy them. The music and video game ones are all about things I can't own, and the movie ones are 90% speculation and the rest snarky reviews. If I want snarky, I'll ask Adrian.

And that's it.

This is what I get for planning ahead.

Ok, I have a long post to make when I get home (I even made notes on a pad about what I wanted to blog about, then left the pad on my desk. So I'll do it later.

New White Stripes cd. Awesome.

Transformers coming out this Thursday. Giddyup. Getting a nerd posse together to see it. Planning to make a shirt saying "More than meets the eye since 1984".

Put together some IKEA furniture last night. Very handy, I am.

Ugh.

I've been waking up with a headache every day this week. It's always on the left side, starting at behind my eye, travelling across my scalp and then setlling at the base of my skull. Ugh. I'm chewing through my asproclear and nurofen supplies.

On the plus side, beat Marvel: Ultimate Alliance. Again.

Also, everyone go to Adrian's blog. It's in my links.

A new look. Just because.

And I borrowed 9 CDs from Ted.

And I can't find bloody t-shirts.

And a combination frustrating and good day.

The very model of a modern blogging general.

I was part of a monochromatic Abbey Road moment. This morning, wlaking to work, I was wearing black Levi's, my Docs, a black beanie, a grey hoodie and a leather jacket. Suddenly this guy starts walking in front of my. He's got the shaved head, the black biker jacket, black jeans and big-ass boots. I glance behind me. There's a guy with long hair, a black wool trenchcoat and black jeans. We walked in lock-step for like 4 blocks. A monochromatic Abbey Road. All we needed was Paul in a white suit.

Oh, and Ashleigh has joined Da Band as a singer. And she's bloody good. But she's all modest and shit. It's annoying. Practice tomorrow. We've nearly got a whole complete song! And Mel's going to do guitar stuff.

I've been watching Reboot on my iPod. It's reminding me how terrible the first season-and-a-half was (what with it's pandering to the 10 and under audience) and how kick-ass the 3rd and 4th seasons were (darker themes, mature content,and lots of CGI action).

Saturday.

"It's natural selection at work."-Me, after Tanja and I noticed a bogan child bashing itself repeatedly in the head with a water bottle.

And we did our shopping and we got a banged-up trolley. But it was more than that. It was an ex-military trolley. It was used to attach limpet mines to the hulls of enemy craft in wartime. It had an odd, glazed stare about it, like it was saying "you weren't there, man, you weren't there." And the other trolleys were giving it a hard time.
"How could you do that, man? How could you be working for the man?"
"Look, man! I'm doin' it for my kids! For the little baskets!"
"But how could you work for the man?"
"Just stop dissin' me man!"

...

Because they were 70s blaxploitation trolleys. Of course.

And we're watching GoldenEye and my brain keeps going "But that's not Severnaya! In Severnaya you start in the cells with throwing knives!"

Dr. Phil.

I just overhead Dr. Phil saying that fighting in front of kids is bad because the kid blames themselves. My parents fought and divorced, and I never blamed me. I was never that narcissistic. Stupid Dr. Phil. Seems he's he's gone to the universirty of Stands To Reason with a summer at the College of My Dad Always Said, and took an after-school job at Some Bloke In The Pub Told Me.

The Triumph of Cowardice.

I found a Rincewind-like way to beat a level on Marvel: Ultimate Alliance. Basically, it's one of the long scrolling levels where there are waves and waves of bad guys you're meant to clobber through (Craig, Omega Base). If you use Iceman, you can use his ice-slide to slide along the top of the screen all the way to the end of the level. Hooray for sneaky!

Also, a word on showers. You can turn on both handles equally. It'll go mega-hot. You can then increase the cold incrementally three or four time, and it'll stay mega-hot. But then if you just touch the hot tap, it'll go freezing cold. Bad design, I tells ya.

Training.

Ok, since I applied for the new trainer's position and didn't get it, they let me know that I'd be able to run a module with the latest training group. As experience, right? Sounded good. But T The Trainer (TTT from here on) said that it'd just be a powerpoint that I took them through the sign-up process. Ok. Can I get a printout? No. Can I see it before I actually do it? No. So today i come in and I get a 3 minutes rush conversation about "Make sure you get forms back from this list of people, mark the role, here's your outline. Three bullet points: Go over last week, Run Powerpoint, and test comprehesion, and then let them listen in on calls. That's meant to be 5 hours. And then TTT left.
I now have 35 minutes before I start. Fuck! I'm sure I'll be ok, but FUCK! Bad planning!

Da Email, Da Email, What what, Da Email.

I finally got the 4 Strong Bad email DVDs I ordered from Homestar Runner.com. I is a giant nerd. Tanja even watched a few, but has put it into the category of things I get and she doesn't along with Mystery Science Theatre 3000. Oh Well :)

Does whatever a spider can, apparently.

Last night, we spotted this little beauty in the corner of the hall ceiling. Doesn't look like much, does it? But then, that's not what it looks like up close.

It's about 5 inches across, and was big enough that Tanja didn't want to walk under it in case it dropped off the ceiling and landed on her face. I didn't want to squish it, as I hate killing spiders that aren't actively trying to kill me. What confused me was Tanja's insistence that if it wasn't in the same place this morning, she'd be more worried, because then she'd think it was in the bedroom.

Well, this morning it was next to the front door, so I shooed it out onto the front porch, where it hid under the fusebox. Cute little bugger.

Dictionary-style Quizzes.

"Lucas --[adjective]:
Pretentiously academian.

Loki --[adjective]:
Smelling like turnips at all times

Tanja --[adjective]:
Having the texture of congealed cheese

Craig --[noun]:
A hermit living in the big city

Taqwa --[adjective]:
Similar to butter in texture and appearance

Ted --[noun]:
A person with a sixth sense for detecting the presence of goblins

William Hesketh --[adjective]:
Tastes like fried chicken"

Quizzes! Fun for the whooooole family.

I need sleep. This shouldn't be funny.

I was logging into one of the systems at work today. and I saw this message:

"Password accepted. Logging into MERP on MERP."

This struck me as immensely funny for no apparent reason. It sounds like a demon bar. "Welcome to MERP's on MERP! I'm your host, Florg! And a big hello to Phnog, who's on his bachelor party tonight!"

Just silly.

So I was trying to see a movie....

After Easter, tried to get some people together to see The 300. But everyone had already seen it. So I said "Ok, let's go see Hot Fuzz instead." And some people said "Great! What's Hot Fuzz?" After I hit them, we arranged. But then Ted and Craig had early shifts the next day. And I got sick. So now I see no movies at all. *sniff*

Facing the Book

I've gotten onto Facebook recently (think a cross between MySpace and those Classmates.com websites, without the wankiness of the former and the stalking of the latter). I started going there as I was invited by three of my university friends who I haven't heard from in 5 years. So I go, and there's nostalgia, and horrible old photos, and it's fun. Then I start looking up high school people. That's an unexpected surprise as I recieve happy remembrances from people who I figured wouldn't know me from Adam. It's all great. Then I spot someone from high school. A past flame, as it were. A first flame, if you take my meaning. We weren't "flames" for very long, and stayed friends for quite a bit after. So I send her a message to add her to my Friends list. And she accepts. No biggie. Now comes the interesting bit.
Once someone is your friend, on your main page you can see all the activities your friends have made in the past 24 hours. It's usually trivial. "So-and-so has added Stone Temple Pilots to her musical tastes" and "whatshisface is back at home", etc etc. Well, the day after adding this flame person, I log on and see two activities (which came about ten minutes aftershe accepted the Friend invitation) which confused and then oddly enough, make me angry.
"This Person (no names, please) has changed her Status to 'In A Relationship'"
"This Person has changed her photo" (to one with a guy in the picture, from her previous, which was her and her girlfriends out at a birthday party.)
What the fuck? I really don't give a shit, but am I some drooling stalker over here? (sorry to channel Christopher Moltisanti, but it had to be done)
My response is to roll my eyes, and go tell my Tanja that I love her, but she's at work. a Text will have to do.

So, yeah.

So I got a birthday parcel from me ma today. I know what you're thinking, my birth was not until the 28th of the month, but me ma seems to have gotten with the postal program after our Christmas-in-early-March-debacle. So I opened it early. Now, Mom has this thing where she likes me to call when I get stuff, so she can hear me open it. I don't get why, but the one time I didn't olbige before caused heartbreak and gnashing of teeth. But I didn't call her today. Because then I'd be busted for opening it early. So I'm going to call her on my birthday. And say i've kept it and am opening it then.
Little white lies, come back to haunt you.... [/Sammy Hagar]

Fruit Art

Hey hey.

Ok, HouseWarmAid happened. Much smalled turnout than I expected and quite a few of the "confirmed coming for sure" people didn't show up or call or anything. I'll make with the frosty stare thing when I get back to work. An up-note was the oddest housewarming gift I've ever recieved, from Mel and Shae (as always, Blurty people please go to Blogger):

A Domo-Watermelon. I'm afraid to eat it.


Also, Tanja and I were watching 20 to 1 Best Videos (Tanja was ever so pleased that A-Ha's Take On Me made #8), and saw that a Peter Gabriel vid with a ton of Stop Motion animation made first place. As if! So, while she was off having a shower, I whipped up this little moment to show that no, he doesn't deserve his #1 spot (click to open... may take a second):

How do barbers get paid???

Really. Is it by how many pairs of scissors they wear out? Commission per snip? Or do they just bag up all the hair and then weigh it at the end of the week?
The reason I'm asking is because I'm trying to figure out why "trim the sideburns and the back so I don't look scruffy but leave the top and most of the sides because I'm growing it out" becomes "ruin two months of studious hair growth in ten minutes by thinning it without asking me and chopping off huge bits under the pretense of 'blending'".
Where's that monkey? I want something to shoot.

You see what happens?

Ugh. See, this is what comes from trying to arrive on time! I came in at 9:15, thinknig to log in at 9:30 and being all ready and everything. Then I sent an email to Tanja, who replied "Don't you start at 10:30?" Bugger. So I pottered around, bought some cinnamon doughnuts and a scratchie lotto ticket (won nothing). And now I'm back at work. My body clock is an idiot. Tanja gave me some excellent advice:
"Recommend switch brain on in the morning."
And an ambiguous phrase:
"God you are your own worst tool!"

Addendum.

My newish love of beer is tempered by the fact that beer-drinking leads to beer-drunkenness, which I find deeply unpleasant. Vodka-, tequila-, and wine-drunkenness are pleasant and fun. It's merely the drunkenness that beer places upon me tends to make me stupid and incapacitated. And ridiculously hungover the next day.
It's this (and other) circumstance that caused me to cancel on poor Ted for the Sounds Like Chicken concert on the 3rd. That, and the fact that though the doors opened at 6:30, the band had 5 opening acts, and the real band would have taken until 11:30 or so to be on stage. And I had to work at 9 the next morning. And I didn't want to be the prick who, halfway through the set, had to prevail upon Ted to give me a lift home. So no SLC. Oh well.

Beer Cravings

I've been getting wicked beer cravings lately. I mean in the middle of the day and the middle of the week. Not cravings to be drunk, but cravings for a beer. And for the most part I've been giving in. I mean, I've had a 2 Litre bottle of Pepsi Max in our fridge since we moved in, and most of it's still there. Because I've been having beer at home. And now it's 10:56 am. I'm at work. And I want a beer.

Does this make me a burdgeoning alcoholic?

Damn you, punctuality!

Typical. Bloody typical.

I turn up for work 15 minutes early, due to some fancy train maneuvering. I arrive at the lobby to find out the elevators and doors aren't working. Most people had been there since 7. So I hung out for 20 minutes. And then the doors worked again. I only missed 6 minutes of my shift, damnit! I wanted some on-the-clock bludging! Damnit!

At least it was slightly better than that time Ted jumped in the elevator and said "Wouldn't it be funny if it stopped?" And then it stopped. For an hour.

Deadlines

Ok, Telstra said the internet'd be connected after the 24th. Craig checked the order and it says "ON the 24th". Then Tanja got a message saying the 21st. It came on the afternoon of the 23rd. Thank you Telstra. For making us laugh at deadlines. Again.

And when it rains, it pours. I go from having no shirts to do to having near a billion.

Han-r: Needs 4 shirts. All with gothy skull-with-butterfly wings designs in silver on black shirts. Fairly simple. The original deadline was the 25th, but she's agreed to 2 on the 25th and two later. Did those two last night. Need to buy more plastic for stencils before I can do the other two.
X Quabed: The boys needed a bunch of shirts (10 to be precise) but were too poor at the moment to buy the good quality. Meh, I don't blame them, but it makes for tough shirting when their logo is a big yellow oval with the band name on it. The name is easy, but getting a smooth oval of paint of a thin cheap tshirt is tough. It takes two or three coats and a crap-load of waiting. Craig helped me with some of the shit-work, and now all the ovals are done. Now all I have to do is organise with the band to meet up and get my money and their shirts.
Dave: Poor Dave. He asked me for a Cowbell shirt ages ago on my MySpace, but it was a time when I hadn't checked MySpace in a week. Now he's sent me the thumbnail and I've printed the stencil, but then I ran out of stencilling plactic. So he has to wait more. Argh. Poor dude. He'll think I'm stalling.

Plus I've got two and a half blanks for Craig (although he's happy at the moment with his 8 new shirts that he won't miss two more in the short term).

I've taken to wearing a bandanna at work because as my hair grows longer, it becomes more and more of a pain. Usually I'll wear a fedora outside, but I can't wear a headset over it like I do a cap. So on goes the bandanna. My boss has taken to "reminding" me that I have a hanky on my head. Two or three times a day even. Aussie humour at it's finest. Up there with calling someone with red hair "Bluey". Oy.

New and Old

So we're in the new place now, and it's shaping up to be really nice (a lot sooner than I expected, too. I was expecting a month of half-unpackedness). We get the 'Net at home on the 24th, so still waiting. Undertaking a big t-shirt job, and hoping that I can get it finished (and at a decent level of quality) in time for the 27th. Pressure.

And we had a School Day at work. Everyone's in their old uniforms. I didn't have one, so I made due with a white shirt, my Shaun of the Dead tie, grey slacks and a maroon hat I bought from St. Vinnie's. Considering I never HAD a uniform for school (not being raised in a fascist regime), I think I did ok. I feel like a dork, thoguh, and people gave me funny looks on the train.

The L. Brown Suction-Cup Dart Institute Of Office Management

The LBSCDIOM Method of Dealing With Marketing:


The LBSCDIOM Method of Customer Service:


The LBSCDIOM Method of Dealing With The Hot-Button Issue of Children In Advertising:



There'd be more pictures, but we can't get these darts to stick on peoples' foreheads, even after rigorous hours of trying.

All these lessons can be yours for just $2.50 per dart-gun.

Wisdom for us all.

"So everytime I don't get one of your jokes, I cop a dart?"

-Ted, on the role of suction-cup dart guns in office politics.

Vanity (Warning: Wacky Hair Photo Post)

(Blurty people, head to the Blog to see these pics.)
I was this bored at work. I was on hold to wireless tech support for 47 minutes (it'd have been more, but I gave up). That's a record. And people wonder why I wear hats a lot. This is why:

Flock of Seagulls!









Fear the Fringe.









Shocked! Shocked and appalled!









Windblown Dragonball Hair!









After a little while of this and being amused at people's inability to concentrate while speaking to me, Toby finally broke the silence:

"Dude, put your cap back on. You're freaking me out."

Gift of Giving

I bought a magnetic dartboard for our part of the office. Then I got to watch as like 8 people (Ted included) were entranced by it. There might even have been an instance of using my cast-iron griddle (which I also bought) to block the darts, making a loud "Bliiiiang!" noise which everyone around us enjoyed immensely. I haven't seen people so excited since the time we brought in those toy guns.

"If he doesn't comply, send his wife a bit of him in the post."

Watching Dead Ringers. A bit meh, but I like when they put someone in character dress and put him on the street with regular people. They had someone as a Tom Baker Doctor Who, and another as Russell Crowe in full Maximus gear talking to builders for his ruins. Very funny. And they have Tony Blair speak like this: "I'm very outraged. Serious forehead, tilt of head, and gentle hand gesture showing the togetherness of Britain's people."

Oh, and we had Christmas. I got an iPod Video. Tis very flash. However, I learned that if I put the entire contents of my harddrive, games, documents, everything, it wouldn't fill up. Shocking.

Also, I just bought Tanja a Kylie CD. She said an Australian woman of a certain age needs one. Go figure.

And we've found a new house. We move on the 18th. It's here.