Idle Rantings at Tea Time

Which Italian River Shares Its Name With A Teletubby?*

2008-08-20T16:15:00.000+10:00

I have always had an unearthly fear of trivia.

Primarily because I do not know anything. I can recite the Corporations Act backwards - sure. But when it comes to the things that really matter, I've got nothing. Nada. Nought. (See? I don't even know any more synonyms for 'nothing').

I was often heard joking that the only skill I brought to a trivia team was the ability to answer Harry Potter questions. Then, this one time at work trivia, we actually got a Harry Potter question, and my answer was definitively WRONG. I can't put the shame into words. Needless to say, since then I don't joke about bringing any skill WHATSOEVER to trivia.

Given this supreme legacy of failure, it is with as much surprise to me as anyone else that I currently find myself in a weekly trivia comp. I'm still not sure that I bring too many l33t trivia skillz to the table, but fortunately "The Right to Arm Bears" (see hand-crafted team logo courtesy of Jim above) hasn't booted me yet, so there's still time to improve.

Mind you, I don't even know how you learn trivia! Yeah, I could scour Wiki for hours on end, but it wouldn't stick. The other day I tried to memorise music and movies of the 1990s. Just pointless. If I haven't seen it, danced to it or karaoked it at least half a dozen times during my life, I'm not going to remember a jot.

And so, until trivia questions are restrained solely to my existing knowledge, or you can win Trivial Pursuit by filling your entire pie with Science wedges, I fear I shall never be known as Ali - Queen of Quizziness.

*The answer is Po. Thank goodness Jim knows his Italian rivers and I know my Teletubbies!

Choice Bro

2008-08-02T19:32:00.004+10:00

The Flight of the Conchords. Totally awesome.

Check out a lot of their magic on YouTube. But in the meantime, you can get the feel from this. (I just know you're going to like this Richo!)

"Business Time"

Death By Socks

2008-07-14T18:07:00.003+10:00

I am calling for all the testosterone-pumped, suit-clad lads out there to take a stand and just say no to the fashion nicety of dark work socks.

Yes, perhaps a transition to flouro patterned knee-highs may seem a bit drastic in the short-term. But I swear, the endless frustration of trying to match about 1000 pairs of Jesse's virtually identical dark work socks post-wash is going to be the end of me.

And death by socks is not pretty.

PB

2008-07-14T18:01:00.003+10:00

I'd like to officially record that QML artfully procured not one, not two, but TWELVE mighty vials of my precious red stuff today.

Yowza.

A personal best.

Pass Me the Tiger Balm...

2008-07-09T12:37:00.007+10:00

... for I seem to be missing a rotator cuff.

The first of no doubt many, very necessary sacrifices to the Wii God.

Fortunately, thanks to the wonders of technology, any further injuries to my upper limbs can be cleverly disguised with state-of-the-art, life-like appendages, such as this:

So you will never suspect anything.

Addled (aka The Hierarchy of Skittles)

2008-07-09T11:39:00.009+10:00

A short explanation of feudalism in confectionary.

The blackcurrant king always reigns supreme
Closely followed by his strawberry queen.
And whilst the tangerine knight is only all right,
He still pwns plebs in lemon and green.

I have lost it.

You Never Saw This Post Coming

2008-07-09T01:03:00.011+10:00

When it's 1am and I can't get to sleep, this is what I'm thinking about...

Ruby red platforms
And bright silver Docs,
Soft ballet slippers
And hard wooden clogs,
Beanies on kittens
And mittens on dogs.
Just some of the things that I like.

Forests of pine
With trees all aligned,
One long and tenuous
Orange peel rind,
Smarties and parties
Of every kind.
A few more of the things that I like.

A bold wish, some goldfish,
Cheap fuel discount dockets,
Strange foreign currency
Lining my pockets,
Fairy lights sprouting from
Twelve power sockets.
Now THOSE are the things that I like.

Then there's big furry Ragdolls
And harsh ginger moggies.
Baking and swimming in
Nice new blue toggies.
Lovers and dreamers
And tiny green froggies.
These things I could not do without.

But sunshowers, blue flowers,
Tempests and tests,
Red Autumn maples
With old cuckoos' nests.
Pieces of eight bound in
Drowned treasure chests.
Their importance cannot be in doubt.

Tridents and wands and
Meandering chats.
Rabbits extracted from
Black magic hats.
Garden gnomes, secret tomes
Celtic knot tatts.
This is what life is about.

The classics, the hacks,
And ol' Jabberwocky.
Hot Subway melts and
The best home-made gnocchi.
Training a lovebird to say
"Hello Cocky!"
Essentials in every day.

Can only be followed
With CDs I've borrowed
But never had time to play.

Aaaalso... (and these are in no particular order...)

There are living mazes and purple hazes,
Thimbles and dimples and chooks.
Words en Francais, dusty cabriolets
And pucka celebrity cooks.

Puddles 'n cuddles 'n
Chilled apple ciders,
Hopscotch 'n dewdrops 'n
Wee jumping spiders,
Glossy black stallions
With brave swarthy riders.
Without them no life is complete.

Whilst hairspray I daresay
Can never be chicer
Than when its imbued
With shiny gold glitter.
Cold footy pies washed
Down with Vic Bitter.
These things simply cannot be beat.

Hi-fis and fireflies and
Spielberg's old sci-fis.
Reindeer on tin rooves
And twinkles in tikes' eyes.
Sweet loot and stone fruit
And dressing in disguise.
Oh! They are all such a treat!

And just a little change in tempo here...

Slushies concocted with strong grapey syrup
Sugar-free green apple gum,
Buttermilk pancakes draped with whipped cream
And jam a la Bonne Maman.

Carp and cows and bunnies so cute,
Oboe and harp and piccolo flute.
Goosebumps and hiccups and shivers with wine.
The strange little phrases that are only mine.

Wii time and me time, an MMORPG or two,
Ribbons and gibbons and jazz at the zoo.
I'd never survive with only a few.
You know what I'm saying is true.

So when it is late
And I'm still wide awake,
I always know just what to do.
Forget counting sheep.
For sure-fire sleep,
I just conjure a riddle or two.

Bienvenue et Hon Hon Hon

2008-07-06T17:29:00.004+10:00

It is, bien sur, that temps de la year encore.

The time of lycra-donning, cheese-eating, surrendering and 'hon hon hon'-ing.

LE TOUR TIME!

It's been long (too long) since this festival of music, colour and cycling last hit our soapboxes. And so, it was with irrepressible frothing at the mouth that Jesse and I partook of the first leg yesterday.

The first leg is difficult to recap in one small post. But it started with cycling. It ended with cycling. And I believe there was a bit of cycling in the middle too.

There was also eating from little food baggies (some of which were thrown into other cyclists' spokes causing all worlds of pain and angst). But more importantly, there was Gabriel and his first dish de le tour.

Gabriel is, without doubt, my favourite segment in the daily tour show. Such combinations of fresh seafood, seasonal vegetables and lard, you could never dream of beyond the belle French borders. And don't forget Christian. No gastronomic wonder would be complete without Christian's expert advice vis a vis alcoholic accompaniments. "But what fair dish shall delight our petite tastebuds tonight?" I hear you rumble with your outrrrageous guttural 'r's. Well, tonight we are promised pear tart with lashings of pear... and tart... and cheesy lard I daresay. So keep your stomach grumbling for that one.

The other thing that really piques my interest in le tour is the absolutely stunning countryside and, more strangely, the identical houses. Every one so far has been white with a grey roof. Weird. I realise the French are born with impeccable taste; however I can't help but feel that the Government may be involved in this structural pleasantry somehow. Eitherways, it is utterly beautiful.

Finally, I love all the pretty coloured cyclists with their chrome domes and 22nd Century sunglasses. I am especially infatuated with the pink-dotted King of the Mountain jersey, which is an essential in any Winter wardrobe.

And even more finally, I am also somewhat taken by the team names adopted in this year's tour. "Credit Agricole" - the farmer's bank. "Gerolsteiner" - derived from the large family of steins called Gerol. "Barloworld" - for suits on the go. And "Euskaltel-Euskadi" - which really doesn't mean anything in any language, but is often followed with much hooting and good times aplenty.

And yes, the Euskaltel-Euskadi team is a crowd favourite, 'cause you can never have too much 'good times aplenty'.

Weekend-O-Wii

2008-07-06T17:25:00.001+10:00

First of all, may I say HAPPY BIRTHDAY RICHO!

Second of all, may I say THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME PLAY YOUR NEW WII RICHO!

And last of all, may I say WHERE IS MINE RICHO???

THE END

Don't Ask What Facebook Can Do For You...

2008-07-01T20:39:00.007+10:00

It is with much regret that I have come to accept that I am a complete and utter Facebook wench. It's much like being a Googlewhore, only sadder.

After a rough beginning to our relationship, it has now blossomed into a whirlwind affair of emails and apps. But it's not as though I haven't been putting the hours in. I mean, just today I completed Facebook's '10 Second Interview' and it took, like, 3 hours or something. Mad.

The other little gem of software I've been checking out lately is the oh-so-sweet Skype. Absolutely everybody should be using this awesome prince of technology. Cheap, effective and simple enough for me to use somewhat adequately. So, three ticks there. Get on it people.

Also on the PC front, we've started to give yet another MMORPG a run - LOTRO, or Lord of the Rings Online to all the non-nerds. I'm still unconvinced that it can match Conan's sweet sweet graphics, but it has NO PvP option. I repeat, NO PvP option. So it's lovely and civil and all good to me. Psych.

Moving away from the world of IT, Jesse and I have also been getting into a bit of hard-core board-gaming action of late. (And you thought this post couldn't get geekier, shame on you). The latest tabletop pleasure to hit our house's fair shores is Shadows Over Camelot, a co-operative game where everyone gets to play a wickedly cool knight of the round table.... or Sir Kay, who I have totally never heard of and who looks a bit dodgy. Aaanyways, the take home message is that this is a super-fun game and is even more enjoyable when consumed whilst donning silly hats.

In truth, I sense that most things are more enjoyable whilst donning silly hats...

Sharing the Love

2008-07-01T11:55:00.002+10:00

www.askaninja.com

Check it and thank me later.

Or thank Jim for passing it to me, and thus to you.

Or thank me and I'll pass it on to Jim.

Whatever already! It's aaaall goooood.

BTW...

2008-06-24T18:03:00.002+10:00

... I finished Tess.

And it was all kinds of uncharted terrible in the end.

(And no, chasing Tess' climax with being incessantly pwned in Conan has NOT HELPED!) :( :( :(

You Can't Stop the Angry

2008-06-24T17:43:00.003+10:00

I HATE PvP SERVERS!

HATE HATE HATE!!!

MY WRATH HAS NO BOUNDS AND NO-ONE CAN SHAKE THE ANGRY PILLS OUT OF ME!!!

What kind of pathetic, squishy, little bug do you have to be to want to play on a PvP server?

If you love pre-pubescent boys, and their infinite lust for bravado, bullying and ABSOLUTE PATHETICNESS OF A DEGREE YOU'RE NEVER LIKELY TO ENCOUNTER AGAIN, then you'll LOVE Conan's PvP servers.

I can't believe we're even attempting to build our guild membership by inviting nice people into it? Nice people?? On a PvP server?? ARE YOU INSANE???

Repulsive, small-minded, tools there are aplenty... but nice people? I fear they are all on PvE servers, which is exactly where I'm ressing back to...

Queen of the Green

2008-06-21T11:38:00.005+10:00

I played my first round of golf ever, the other day. And I am a natural.

No, not really. But it was still pretty fun, and some of my shots actually went in the air, which is a good start. We played this teeny 9-hole course at Bulimba which was full of equivalent noobs, and thus just perfect for me.

In fact, such a good time was had, that I'm now thinking of taking some lessons. Obviously, there's little work to be done on my putting given the hours I've already racked up at mini-golf over the years. But my driving and pitching could probably do with some tweaking. :S

Speaking of golf, that is the reason why I'm having such a blog frenzy this morning. Jesse is out having a round with the lads, and it seems to be taking a little longer than expected. They started at 7.30 this morning and, incredibly, are STILL GOING! Further still, Jesse just rang to say that if he's lucky, he'll be home by 1pm. That is just nuts. Liquid nuts.

I think they need me to show them how it's done. :)

Upon My Honour

2008-06-21T11:19:00.002+10:00

I am currently reading 'Tess of the D'Urbervilles', which, to my surprise, I am really quite into.

Admittedly, any book that actually uses the phrase 'upon my honour', is always going to get points from me, but I really am amazed at how accessible the story is.

I'm only part-way through, and I'm pretty sure that certain woe approacheth the heroine (which I'm not so into), but I think I might actually make it to the end of this classic. (Unlike '20,000 Leagues Under the Sea', which was hard, hard going and I just couldn't claw my way to the last page).

The other thing that I like about this novel is that it's quite short. Preceding Tess, I finished 'The Pillars of the Earth', which was great. I've always been a bit of a Ken Follett fan, but this 1000+ page epic in tiny print was a long haul. And before I tackle the 1000+ page sequel 'World Without End', it's nice to attack a shorter tale and take a bit of a breather.

The other reading I've been getting into is genuine Japanese manga - pretty cool once you're accustomed to the right-to-left comic style. I can't help but feel that like anime, manga is a new world I should have discovered long ago. Oh well...

Chasing 'World Without End', I'm hoping to mix things up with a bit of fantasy or sci-fi, but you just never know. The library is an amazing place...

A Month and A Year

2008-06-21T11:00:00.003+10:00

I have been away from work for a month now and it feels like a year.

You never realise how much work fills your day, until it doesn't. And then, difficult as it may be to believe, you suddenly have too much time on your hands. Particularly in my case, when a scary proportion of my friends seem to have jumped on the parenting bandwagon and have recently popped or are at the point of popping in the very near future.

So given my slightly stir-crazed mind, I have to be forgiven for doing some strange things. Like yesterday, I had a big outing to the shops. (By 'big outing', I mean I went to Coles). I was rummaging round the aisles when I came to the make-up section and, now having long nails (again, thanks to leaving work and its associated stresses), I thought I deserved some new polish. The options were clear, pale pink or ruby red.

In a moment of slow-mo weakness, I reached for the ruby red and put it in my trolley. "What a vamp," I thought. "If I wore lipstick, I could look like a real girl with this new ruby red polish," I muttered.

And so, as soon as I got home (but just after I did the clothes washing, dish washing, washed the dog and cleaned the bathroom), I released the polish spirit upon my hands...

... and discovered that I'm not very good at painting my nails. In fact, it was more like finger-painting, given the disproportionate amount that ended up on my nails' surrounds, as opposed to my actual nails. Which would be fine if it was clear, but which is not so hot in ruby red.

Aaanyway, needless to say, I'm not sure how long it will take for me to revert to the safety of clear polish, but I daresay it shan't be long.

It. Is. Done.

2008-06-21T10:56:00.003+10:00

Officially. It is done. We have purchased the mighty Age of Conan and my social life has ended.

Despite being overawed by the amount of bugs in this new release, I still can't seem to drag myself away from its stunning landscapes and decapitating goodness. (Though I must admit, the wenches have been a little disappointing).

And so, if you notice my blogging is a little lack-lustre these days, you now know why...

My Avatar Brings All the Boys to the Yard

2008-06-05T17:27:00.018+10:00

Drop that taco and hold everything. For rumour has it that there is a new, multi-online-player thingy that is going to BLOW YOUR MIND. That's right. Blow it right out of your TINY LITTLE SKULL.

And its name?

AGE OF COOOONAAAAAN! (expressed a la Captain Caveman stylings)...
Or 'AoC' to all you sweet l33t speakers...
Or "Wench Tycoon" for all those who can't talk about one PC game without referring to another.

I'm not sure what the goal of the game is. Who the characters are. Or what the many laborious quests may involve. But, fear not, for more importantly, I have been reliably informed that you can make CHICK CHARACTERS. Which is fully excellent. Particularly as I find character creation to be the most fun part of most of these games. And with CHICK CHARACTERS available, you know all the boys gonna be brung to the yard. (Even if those boys are oddly playing CHICK CHARACTERS themselves. Pervs.)

Aaaanyway, I cannot cannot cannot wait to check out the smooth moves of this new release when Jesse and I crash Jim's place on Monday.

Woot for the long weekend! Woot for Jim! And woot for the wenches!

MCU "Milky Cows United"

2008-06-05T16:26:00.006+10:00

It dawned on me at brekky this morning, that soy milk is the devil's juice.

It's been a while since I had a good ol' purge about the many wrong things in this big wide world. And if ever there was a worthy candidate to get back on that wagon, it's soy milk.

First, I can't believe it can legally be classified as 'milk'. The Fresians of the world must be rolling their boogly brown eyes in disgust. Yes, arguably, it's as valid a member of the 'milk' family as, say, coconut milk. But you wouldn't put coconut milk on your granola, would you?

No, you wouldn't.

The last time I tried soy was when work had shamefully run out of milk and my caffeine status was dire. Even then, I took one mouthful and splurted it all over my monitor and surrounding suburbs.

And really, if you think about it, how good is juice from a bean ever going to be? Nobody's plucking the innards out of baked beans, squeezing them through a wet tea towel, and chipperly stirring the extract into their morning beverage. And I should know. 'Cause some of my friends are pretty weird.

"But, it just has a bit of a nutty flavour," they proclaim.

Nutty alright.

No. Just no already. I say, it's time to stop hugging the trees and start showing soy milk the big fat hand. Who's with me?

There's Always a Catch

2008-06-05T16:07:00.004+10:00

There is one major problem with coming back to blogging after six months. And that is that nobody knows you've come to back to blogging.

And it makes me wonder...

Who am I addressing right now? Myself? A couple of friends with aggregators? Or just that weird dude from Brazil who can't stop accessing my page thanks to that Antonio pic I put up a while ago?

And it's a real shame that Microsoft didn't develop a huge neon light that bursts out of people's monitors when you've jumped back on the blogging horse. Because, truthfully, it's quite embarrassing to have to plug your own blog. Particularly one as lame and ramshackle as this one. It's like:

"Hey, guess what. I'm back on my blog again."
"You have a blog?"
"Yeah, sure, don't you remember all those posts that used to put a little sunshine in your lunchtime?"
"Errr, not really."
"Well, aaanyway, I'm back on it. Even posted about mascara this morning. You should totally check it out. It's the only blog that Afe reads. And you know how cool Afe is."

From that point I usually obtain the obligatory, "Sure, yeah, I'll check it out when I have some free time. Like after I restump the house and shave my chickens."

And at that point, basking in the realisation that I have enlightened them of the might of my blog, I revert back to our conversation about backpacks with too many zips. Which is wonderful and interesting....

... but which still doesn't shake off the dirty feeling that I've sold my soul and dignity for just a few more page clicks.

That's Hot

2008-06-05T09:13:00.007+10:00

What the pumpkins is going on in the make-up world?

I'm sure I recall a time when life was simple and each make-up brand just had one of everything. One mascara. One foundation. And a limited range of eye shadows and blushes.

I'm not a huge fan of mascara. Hence, it's quite irregularly that I traipse to the shops in search of a new one.

But OMG! There is no end to the range of gooey black goop you can currently dress your lashes in. Volumising. Separating. Defining. Smudgeproof. Waterproof. Idiotproof.

At the moment, I think I'm using the Lashomatic 4000 - "The fully lashiest of lashtastic mascaras with lashes of smudgeproof definition to make your volumised lashes 100% idiotproof."*

Or some such.

* Representations may be simulated. Actually guaranteed to produce panda eyes, to sting like hell when it runs, and make you look like a complete plonker (if not an idiot).

You Know You Want It

2008-06-04T16:08:00.003+10:00

I hate Big Brother.

Wherever I may go. Whomever I may meet. Whenever the subject of Big Brother comes up. There is just one thing I hear - "I hate Big Brother".

This statement is usually followed by the typical comments, "It's stupid", "What's good about watching a bunch of nobodies doing nothing" and "I canNOT believe that one of those morons wins a million bucks or whatever".

Well, methinks the general public protesteth too mucheth.

SOMEONE is watching Big Brother. Some people even pay money to be in Big Brother's live audience. (Although they may just be Dreamworld staff on late shift).

It is fascinating to me that people are ashamed of things like this.

The same deal applies to music. I know SO MANY people who take unwarranted pride in their musical taste. They only like Aussie rock. They only like Swedish troubadour ballads.

I know we all want to be unique and special. (Hence my endless and unrequited desire for an eyebrow ring). But personally, I am a complete slurry when it comes to music. The only styles I am really opposed to are heavy metal and disco (which make me feel physically sick, so it's not really a personal choice). Other than that, it's all good.

I mean honestly. What's a party without some toe-tapping Brit-pop? Some pity-party US soft rock? The macarena???

The world is an amazing place. Don't be so cool that you miss it.

The Haps

2008-06-04T14:52:00.002+10:00

Ah, how the cycle of life turns, and I found myself back in the blogosphere.

My poor, neglected blog was in the throes of its melodramatic death spasms, when here I am again, giving it a shake and ruffling its feathers.

If only, if only, I had something riveting to report - "I've created a perpetual motion machine (no really)". "I've adopted Madonna's baby". "I've dyed my hair blue". But alas, it's not to be. Truly though, there was, at least, a chance that the third statement may have come to pass. Currently enjoying the freedom of not holding down a seriously conservative job, the thought of azure hair was strongly leaning on me. This was my one chance to throw myself out there. (At least until retirement, of course, when I can fully lavender myself up to the hilt).

Sure, I had some misgivings. Like, what if my hair doesn't match anything? It's hard enough to match tops and bottoms, let alone adding a third degree of difficulty. And what if it faded and just looked like a terrible highlighter tragedy? Certainly, there were some practical concerns that I needed to consider.

But, ooh, the temptation. The appeal of having hair that just stuck it to society and said, "Sure, you may be cool. But I have blue hair. So, like, meh". The ability to walk into West End and not feel like a foreigner. The ability to listen to Britney and still retain edginess (sort of).

So I rang my hairdresser. I locked in the appointment. And I braced myself for the new, blue and improved Ali.

With barely-concealed excitement I revealed to my uber-grungy hairdresser my reckless intentions. He listened intently. He nodded with understanding...

And then he told me that if I wanted something different, maybe we could "do a nice blonde".

And so, I now have a nice blonde.

Look out world.

Absentino

2007-12-03T22:08:00.001+10:00

Well, will you just look at that? Weeks and weeks have passed by and there has been nary a post in sight.

I would have been almightily booted from my guild if I indulged in such behaviour in my alternate WoW life. Lucky they don't know who I am.

If only I had that same arrangement with Facebook [muttering].

Still, it's been quite a busy time.

Really.

I've been doing a mosaic course and some house rearrangements, getting prepped for Christmas and voting. I think voting was the last straw. Honestly. I just can't get pumped up about politics. I fear I suffer from the whole "we live in a really safe electorate, it doesn't matter what I do" apathy. Not to mention the fact that all the political ads make me want to punish the television in cruel and unusual ways...

"I will stick with Facebook for the long haul" EEERGH!!

"I won't" DIIIING!!

All I can say is thank goodness the great democratic shenanigans are over and we can all get back to focusing on the pov, non-ratings season melodramas that are about to hit our little screens. Oh boy!

Aaanyway, I've just been rummaging through some of our historical holiday pics in a pathetic attempt to find an acceptable Facebook profile photo, and I've been thinking how terribly slack I am at doing anything with all those happy snaps. I mean I realise that if I was so inclined I could, say, post them on Facebook. But let's face it - I'm not so inclined. So what can I do?

Perhaps I will simply post an unrelated holiday image to each of my posts from now on. I could even add some thoughtful, little-known, and possibly invented tidbit about the location of choice as a clincher.

For example, did you know that this castle is the home of my prehistoric, leprechaunian relatives? They used to sit atop it hurling tiny potatoes and large insults at the insolent lamppost. Ahhh, good times.

Facebook - Work of the Devil

2007-12-03T21:59:00.000+10:00

What am I thinking?

Last time, I could only handle Facebook for about three days. So why oh why am I back on the FB horse?? :S

You are spot on in thinking that it would have to be something pretty darn special for me to take this leap of faith again. And it is.

A very good friend of mine in Melbs has just had a no-doubt gorgeous, talented, baby boy with mad skills far beyond his years (or days), and guess where the photos are being posted...

So, I find myself, once again, a slave to the online plague that is Facebook. What shall I do? Poke someone? Admire all those cities I've travelled to?

Nah, I think I'll just keep posting on this blog and import it! (Who does Facebook work for, uh?)

No Sleep, No Blog

2007-11-07T22:23:00.000+10:00

Yes, I've taken another break from blogging - there is a world outside the PC you know...

But here is one more cool little thing that has shunted me out of my blog-rut:

I swear this is Thistle's instruction video.

Tix

2007-08-24T18:03:00.000+10:00

It seems I just won a double pass to check out the Network Ten premiere screening of The Bourne Ultimatum at Southbank on Monday night...

BOOYAH!

Ekkascellent!

2007-08-12T22:03:00.000+10:00

It is Winter in Bris Vegas, and that means one thing. EKKA TIME!

And FLU SEASON.

It means TWO things. Ekka time AND flu season.

If I could just think of a third thing, this would be a truly glorious post. But no.

So back to the point - the EKKA.

In the last week, I have had the enviable pleasure of talking to some of those zany Southern types - you know, "Victorians" and such. We've been chatting about this and that. Social highlights, work gossip and, at least from my end, the EKKA.

And I am outraged. It has become apparent that our lower states (yes, south = lower in my world) DO NOT KNOW WHAT THE EKKA IS.

"What does 'Ek-ka' stand for?" they ask, pronouncing 'Ekka' like it's a dirty little slug. "Is it like that expo thing you had?" they query. (And adding insult to injury, "Yeah, you know, that expo in '89?")

Well, firstly, for all the culture vultures out there, 'Ekka' stands for 'Exhibition'. Or 'Royal Queensland Show' - though, admittedly, that title is slightly less obvious. And secondly, although the Ekka is many things to many people, no, the Ekka is NOTHING like Expo '88.

For some, the Ekka is about the rural animals making a trip into the big smoke. For others, it's the fireworks and sideshow alley. Some just go for the showbags and rides. But most? Well, most go for the dagwood dogs. And the flu.

Personally, I haven't gone to the Ekka for quite a number of years now. But what would I know? I knit these days.

To all the diehard fans though, I say, keep on truckin' - don't fight it. After all, it's hard to keep a good man, or a dagwood dog, down.

PS. As for the pic, these wee tykes were huddled in a pen at Central Station - genius marketing I think.
PPS. The durgy blur at the bottom of the picture is a pig, yes.

Wraps-A-Million (Everything must go...)

2007-08-12T20:52:00.000+10:00

Working within ASIC's Consumer Protection Directorate, it's no surprise that my colleagues are a bunch of die-hard do-gooders. But in the last few weeks, our little team (together with roped-in family and friends), has truly gone beyond the call of duty.

In a bout of extraordinary commitment, my fellow male and female work buddies have pulled together in the massive extra-curricular effort of producing not one, but TWO, full-blown, colour-coordinated, mammoth woolly wraps! (Agreed that 'woolly mammoth' wraps would be even more impressive, but you have to work with what you have.)

So why-oh-why have we been sitting around like little nigel nanas? For the great 'Wrap with Love' phenomenon, of course! This event calls for sturdy adventurers to join forces in a knitting frenzy to create woolen wraps for the cold and needy people of the world. Far and wide, where there are cool climates and just not enough resources to go around, our larey wraps will be there. Chile. Mongolia. Tasmania.

Sadly, the photos really don't do the wraps justice - they are truly something to behold in real life. And warm to boot. Choice bro.

I'd love to send out huge props AND kudos to our inspirational and fearless leader who, despite much adversity (generally personified as boys with needles), pulled us through. Unfortunately, however, due to her propensity for modesty and double life as a dentist, her identity will, I fear, have to remain a mystery. Too bad...

Aaanyway, needless to say that after the last month of intensive training, I am now in peak knitting condition. So what better way to come down from my high than by biting off more than I can chew, and launching into my very own mega-lap-rug? Uber-cool pastime, I know. At least it will keep me out of trouble (and, fingers crossed, chores) for the next 6 months or so. Will have to wait and see...

Will endeavour to keep the blog updated with developments, in a desperate attempt to maintain motivation. So let me say, there is already one square down, with another 30 or so to go.

Still, even if I don't end up meeting my personal challenge, at least the whole 'Wrap with Love' experience has brought cold humanity, and knitting, back into the public eye.

To the fellowship of the wrap...
Australia says WOOT!

Much Better Places To Be. Seriously.

2007-08-06T20:54:00.000+10:00

No.

Hell no.

I want to know, RIGHT NOW, the name and place of residence of the sorry sorry person responsible for canning Torchwood.

I have been hanging, ALL WEEK, to watch Torchwood tonight. And it is not on. Not even a LITTLE BIT.

I simply do not understand. I refuse to believe that it did not rate well. It had all the elements of a cult classic - implausible stories, questionable acting, low budget sets. What's not to love? It was up there with the best of them... South Park, Iron Chef*, Antiques Roadshow.

Yes, it was a little unrealistic - a couple of examples eloquently summarised and quoted from the Aussie Cult Fiction website :

Episode 2 - Day One

An alien entity (personified as a sexy purple mist) wreaks havoc in Cardiff. It finds a human host-body and proceeds to feed itself by bringing other people to orgasm and incinerating them at this point. Deadly shagging ensues.

Episode 4 - Cyberwoman

A Torchwood employee, Lisa, was partially cybernised by the Cybermen in the Battle of Canary Wharf (events depicted in the last two episodes of the 2006 series of Doctor Who). She's been hanging out in the basement of Torchwood 3, and she decides to go apeshit.

NB: And that's not even mentioning that the cunning plan to rid Torchwood of 'Lisa' was to sick the pet pterodactyl on her. Genius.

But the Sydney Morning Herald's The Guide's review got it spot on, saying "The appeal of Torchwood is not so much that it's gloriously implausible sci-fi pulp, but that it knows it's gloriously implausible, sci-fi pulp."

And I ask you, truly, is that not the best type of sci-fi pulp?

Ok, there's no denying that the show's sci-fi budget was a little on the minimalist side, and was always, always, kept for the last 5 minutes. But this was all part of Torchwood's charm. I mean, it's a BBC production set in Cardiff. Yes, Cardiff, WALES, people! We're lucky they speak English.

And let us, just for a moment, consider what the substitute option is tonight - a documentary special on the alleged opening of Jesus Christ's tomb. I don't want to watch that! Why, EVER, would I want to watch that?? Channel 10, seriously. Have you forgotten your target audience? i.e. ME?? I love you Channel 10. I have no VCR, recordable DVD player, little recordy box thing, or Foxtel. I don't even change commercial tv channels!

As I like to say, "If it's not on Channel 10, it's not worth watching."

But this time, you've cut me deep Channel 10.

Torchwood at 12am Wednesdays?

That decision may well be 'separate from the government, outside the police and beyond the United Nations'... But it is also just WRONG.

*Speaking of Iron Chef, a 'please explain' goes out to you too SBS. No Iron Chef for the last two weeks now. Hmm....

The Black Pearl

2007-07-31T17:57:00.000+10:00

Heh heh.

Funny.

You watch now!
(You watch now, bitch)

The Landlord

Absolute Bollocks

2007-07-17T22:02:00.000+10:00

Two weeks ago to the day I attended my first trivia night. And won. (With just a little help from the other geniuses in my team, of course).

Unsurprisingly, following on from this unprecedented high, one week ago to the day I attended my second trivia night. And came third. Still respectable, yes, but slightly disappointing given the previous week's glory. And, in some ways, outright embarrassing as the winning team was a trio of teeny-chicks who had the air of particularly dense numbats about them.

Still, not to be put off, three hours ago to the now I attended my third trivia night. And came, well, somewhere beyond third - I lost count. Fair enough that the questions this week were a degree of difficulty higher than previous weeks, and may have suited some people's particular topics of interest (i.e. Shakespeare & Greek & Roman Mythology)....

But it is ABSOLUTE BOLLOCKS that the triad of devilry won again. Having suffered a second taunting from these children, it became clear in my mind that they must be witches and we should BURN THEM. However, just as I reached for the lighter, a colleague tactfully pointed out that the chickettes appeared to have been using a magical device to assist them throughout the night. A telephone of mobility. Or "mobile phone", they said.

To this minute, it is still unknown whether the chicklets phoned a friend or are, indeed, witches. Either way, I stick to the point that their victory is absolute bollocks and we should, without hesitation, burn them.

World of Warcraft (and Silly Little Boys)

2007-07-09T19:26:00.000+10:00

A most amazing thing happened to me the other day when I was playing Warcraft...

Most Warcraft sessions involve me seeking out fellow players to help in the odd quest. But the other day a strange thing happened - I received an unprecedented number of group invites, guild membership proposals and unsolicited comments.

One guy (a pov little lvl 1 human) even singled out my alt's* avatar** (Tinks) amongst the throng outside Stormwind auction house, and proceeded to follow me to the bank and out to the Stormwind gates. He soon whispered me***, which I stupidly responded to, and the next thing I knew he was following me out the gates into Elwynn Forest. I tried to hide behind one of the castle's buttresses on the way out, but no cigar.

He asked if he could hang out with me, but I explained that with me being a mighty lvl 12 and him a lowly lvl 1, I just didn't think the relationship would work. Despite this seemingly reasonable argument, he blindly followed me into Elwynn Forest where he was promptly slaughtered by a murloc. Sadly not before he offered to pay**** me to let him hang around though.

(And yes, I asked him what exactly he thought he'd be buying, and he responded with 'A friend').

(Puh-).

(-Lease).

Fortunately, I ran away before he ressed***** and haven't heard from him since.

I guess what still stumps me is what the big deal was the other day. Jesse thinks it may have been my sparkling personality. But I don't know...

Methinks Tinks' newly-acquired Bloodspattered Loincloth of the Bear may also bear some responsibility.

*"Alt" - alternative character (generally created when supreme boredom with your initial character kicks in).
**"Avatar" - visual representation of a character.
***"Whisper" - the act of sending a real-time message exclusively to one player.
****"Pay me" - in WoW money of course... what do you take me for?
*****"Ressed" - resurrected. .. duh...

Noobs

2007-07-06T17:46:00.000+10:00

Although I feel somewhat advanced in the WoW arena these days - being up with the acronyms and having created my first alt - I haven't forgotten those painful, early days as a noob.

And so, for all the noobs out there... this one's for you.

Out of Retirement

2007-07-05T21:01:00.000+10:00

Bonjour encore mine kiddles.

Although I have relished the relaxing, 6-or-so month hiatus I have had from blogging, I have a sudden compulsion to get back in the game. To dust myself off and get back on the horse shall we say. To throw my hat back in the ring.

'What could cause such a ruckus?' I hear you think. Well this is gold, my friends. Pure gold. A genius website with an appropriately genius title: I Can Has Cheezburger? You may delve into this gem at your leisure (and there really is much delving to be done, my treasures). But to get you in the mood, here are some current hot shots...

For the sporties:

And the filmies:

For the lost:

For the nerds:

And the nerdiers:

And finally, in a tribute to the classics, the original and arguably the best - the 'happycat':

kthx. brb. bai.

Answers

2007-02-13T21:27:00.000+10:00

Ok, so I have been in exceptionally poor blogging form lately. The subtle chastising from certain parties who will remain unnamed has made this shameful fact abundantly clear. But let me explain...

We have recently committed the cardinal sin of any serious bloggartiste. Yes. It's true. We have succumbed to the irresistibly evil pull of the greatest of MMORPGs*, World of Warcraft.

Given my new-found dedication to 'WoW', I would really appreciate it if you could all call me by my avatar name from now on - Stara. And please refrain from introducing me as a friend from school, work or such. I would much prefer the representation that we met at the night elf camp for beginners in Teldrassil where I was the most promising druid to hit the scene in a good couple of weeks. Also, please avoid any taint of sarcasm when commenting on how you admire my dashing long ears and striking green hair - it would be a poor decision to forget that I have a Medicine Staff of the Monkey with +3 Bashing, +4 Gashing and your name all over it.

Please also bear in mind that whilst you may be whiling away your time waiting for me to post on this blog, I am saving a world. Saving a world dammit. The Horde aren't just going to slay themselves. Someone has to be ever-watchful and look out for the deeries and squirrellies and things. And that someone might as well be me. So a little patience would be much appreciated during these perilous times.

Thank you.

P.S. Yes, the reason why I'm suddenly blogging IS because the WoW server is down for servicing. What's your point?

*For the less nerdically inclined, MMORPG = massively multiplayer online role playing game = virtual world with lots of equally tragic people running around pretending to be kick-arse war machines wreaking havoc upon an evil world of undead coolies.

Cocktails & Dreams

2007-02-13T09:31:00.000+10:00

In a bout of organisation (by other people, of course), I recently found myself catching up with some old school buddies at the hallowed grounds of West End.

We kicked off at the Lychee Lounge - one of the most terrifyingly chic establishments in all of Bris Vegas. Fortunately, because we'd come quite early, the Lounge wasn't totally jumping yet, so my fears were somewhat allayed.

A short squizz of the extensive cocktail list and we'd each chosen our poison. I'd thoroughly recommend my 'Turkish Delight', with genuine rosewater and everything. Very lovely. And very pink. Certainly calmed my nerves, which were a little on edge due to the barbie-doll-head chandeliers...

Aaanyway, the stomach grumblies soon called for a mosey over to the Ottoman Cafe, just 'round the corner by the Gunshop Cafe. I'd wanted to go to the Ottoman for ages, having long admired its cute fairy lights and Aegian blue glass, so I was extremely happy by this turn of events.

Not surprisingly, the Ottoman's offerings were lamb, lamb, lamb, chicken and lamb. And the vegetarian option was beef ravioli. Odd. Still, the meal was great and the entertainment entertaining - featuring a charming (but not overly useful) French Turkish waiter, and a crazy-arsed 'hips don't lie' belly dancer.

Oh, and for the record, everyone should try hot Turkish apple tea some time. I like apples. I like tea. I REALLY like apple tea - even after I spilled it all over the table and it had to be mopped up by the hot French Turkish waiter. (Oh. Did I neglect to mention how hot he was before? Hmm...)

Still, leaving the fair shores of the Otto behind, we made a short cross to every late-20-something Brisbanite's sentimental favourite, the Three Monkeys. A few biscuits and soup-sized chais later, it was time to call it a night - but not before a quick sighting of Mutto from 2006 Aus Idol. Wow.

Who would have thought anyone could pack so much manic liquid chaos into one night, huh? I, for one, am well impressed with myself. We are wicked kewl.

Sayonara Oosutoraria

2007-01-18T22:34:00.000+10:00

'Why is it that it is that you have titled this post in Japanese Ari-san?', I hear you all think.

Well my friends, that, quite obviously, would be because we're going to JAPAN!

Truediddly. In an unprecedented bout of irresponsible frivolity, Jesse and I have made a snap decision to spend a couple of weeks over Easter touring the land-o-rising-sun. We did spend a good couple of minutes deliberating the merits of the usual South East Asia suspects, but soon agreed that they were far too affordable; and, really, what could be cooler than communal baths, silky bathrobes and all-season socks and sandals.

Now, unsurprisingly, some sad, sorry and cynical friends have already taken the opportunity to point out that our lack of Japanese language skills may pose some problems. Bah! I flap my hands at them. My high school Jap studies are about to pay dividends, and then some.

Prepare to be amazed. For I can actually remember how to say 'Let's go to the beach by train.'* Aaaaand, I can, when pressed, interchange 'beach' with 'mountains'. How hard can it be after you've mastered that sort of bilingual gold? Hells bells! I've even read 'Memoirs of a Geisha'.

And watched the movie.

So bring it on ye friends of little faith.

Bring. It. On.

* For the record, that would be something at least reasonably close to 'Uma ni densha de ikimashoo-ka.' Yeah! Take that all you doubting Thomases who said that Geography was a more reliable subject for future success and happiness.

Reading Is For The Children

2007-01-14T09:37:00.000+10:00

I am sure many of you will be shocked to know that I was a complete nerdburger when I was little. (Yes, even more than now.)

I was known to simultaneously read something like SIX or SEVEN books at a time. I look back now with the wisdom of my 20-something years and realise, woah, how completely mad that is. I also realise that I must have been a lot sharper and more enthusiastic then, than I am these tired tired days.

As goes the common tale, the daily survival of high school, uni and work, has caused reading for fun to almost completely drop off my agenda. Sure, I've read a few seriously recommended books (Life of Pi, The Lovely Bones). But they are little books. They didn't hurt my head when I read them.

To the contrary, I am currently reading 'Wild Swans : Three Daughters of China". And I feel like I've been hit by a brick.

Don't mistake my meaning though - I don't mean to run the story down. I'm sure the story is excellent. It's just that I've already invested an embarrassing number of hours into this epic book, and have only covered the intro, family tree, chronology, map and first two pages of Chapter 1.

I've no doubt this situation is a reflection on both myself and the book. But I tell you, I am NOT feeling the love right now.

I think I'll get some vids out.

Australia Says No To The Plant of Spiky Pineness

2007-01-11T21:18:00.000+10:00

I have been most lax in expressing my distaste for that class of things and customs I have unilaterally labelled as being unquestionably wrong.

Ok, so raw eggs kicked things off, and I still back that. But the crazy heat of the Summer season has reminded me of another favourite wrongness. That is, fruit in savoury foodstuffs. Most notably, pineapple on any form of pizza, burger or other fast food delight.

And what is with the particular, inexplicable fascination pineapples hold for Queenslanders? Ok, so we grow most of them. But do Queenslanders just lose it over Summer? Is this the best taunting we have for Southerners?? "Ok, so you have some nice architecture, tasteful attire and serious multicultural diversity. But we have PINEAPPLE... on our PIZZA!"

I feel so dirty.

Countdown 2

2007-01-08T19:15:00.000+10:00

My previous post referred to my counting down of the very last day of work before a luxurious couple of weeks off.

This post refers to the 350-ish day countdown until my next likely couple of weeks off.

Bingo. You guessed it. I've got the 'First Day Back' blues. I can only hope that my sleeping in through the alarm this morning, and subsequent noticeably late arrival at work, is not an omen of 2007's potential offerings.

Fortunately, I managed to ease myself into the office today with much discussion about everybody's new year resolutions. Amongst the zealous talk of healthy eating, outrageous fitness regimes and ambitious business plans, I was saddened to realise that I had no impressive or thoughtful response to the age-old resolution question when it was bandied my way.

I think part of the problem is that I'm genuinely uncomfortable talking up resolutions that I know, deep down, in my heart of hearts, I have absolutely zero intention of following. If memory serves me correctly, pursuant to my previous years' resolutions, I should, by now, be a multilingual supermodel with a seven figure income and a kitten petting zoo. Alas, dear readers, this is not the case.

And so, if I really must make a resolution for 2007, I would wish for a realistic one. Not work-life balance. Not cleaning the house every Thursday. But for 2007 to simply be a better, happier year than 2006 (which was a shocker).

If I can achieve that, then maybe, just maybe, 2008 may herald the year of the petting zoo.

Countdown

2006-12-22T09:10:00.000+10:00

One day to go.

One day to go.

One day to go.

Cojo

2006-12-14T21:15:00.000+10:00

Friends, family and colleagues have recently been subjected to a plethora of tales concerning the antics of our neighbours' new, wee kitten - Coco.

Coco is a sweet cat. She is furry and warm. And oh so cute.

But sadly, it has recently become apparent that due to a freak surgical accident during her birth, Coco's soul has been swapped with that of a rabid wilderbeast.

She tactically locates and hunts down everything. Dragonflies. Bindi. Ferns.

I exaggerate not. This is one mad cat. Totally truckin' nutty crackers. And so, in a civil-minded mood, I have published this post, together with a photo of the wanted beast, as public notice to all unsuspecting people... pets... plants... random inanimate objects.

Be alert but not alarmed.

The Coco

cocoralis bananus

(pictured in its native habitat - Bindi's papasan chair)

The Tree

2006-12-14T21:02:00.000+10:00

BTW, this is my Christmas tree - 7'3" of unadulterated festive goodness.

Wicked.

Christmas 101

2006-12-14T20:46:00.000+10:00

I fully love Christmas. Like heaps. I've experienced quite a few and have come to develop reasonably strong feelings about most aspects of the silly season.

Here is an initial short, punchy list of strong, clear views:

I actually hate the phrase 'silly season'.
And I say no to people who write 'xmas'. (Just how lazy are you?)
You can never have too many fairy lights.
Or too much tinsel - though it should be tastefully colour-matched.
Presents are exciting but scary; and far more fun to give than to get. (Due to that scariness factor referred to earlier).

More mindless Christmas banter to follow shortly. 'Til then, stay chipper and good.... 'cause he's waaaatchiiiiiing!

2 Much Booty (In Da Pants)

2006-12-10T21:59:00.000+10:00

So maybe I AM the only dag in this country who is regularly tuning into 'So You Think You Can Dance", but dang(!), check out these moves right here.

They are so hot. Maan, you don't even know.

You don't even know, maaaan!

You don't even KNOW!!!

Just One More Happy Camper

2006-12-06T19:58:00.000+10:00

Five minutes ago I was one narky little chicken. But not now. Oh no. Five minutes ago I wanted stark revenge and painful retribution. But all that rage has since magically vanished.

That's right, I've put on a 'happy face'. The face that sunk a thousand witty comebacks and saved many a precarious relationship from a looming, earth-shattering kaboom. "Ooooh... what a happy wee face you have there!" say my many imaginary Irish friends as I try to slap them with potatoes.

Well, I tell you what Paddy, if I was true to myself, I'd publish the hard-core vent I've just saved as a draft. But my annoyingly wise and level-headed hubby has advised against it citing professional repercussions and potential legal suits.

So here I am. Sitting. Festering. With my hippity-hap-hap-happy face on.

30 Movember, 2200 hours

2006-12-04T21:15:00.000+10:00

Hey there Pedro!

My face couldn't say it better - it truly IS surprising how quickly Movember passed by, isn't it?

But don't be sad my little munchkin. Movember 07 will rumble around before you can say, "Eh, Baxter, where my enchilada at? Tanto muchacho!!! Andale andale!!"

And so, until we meet again ol' friend. Farewell sweet mo. Godspeed.

So Busted-o

2006-12-04T20:18:00.000+10:00

In a controversial move, a certain Sunshine Coast mo-grower (referred to only as Mr Bitchino) has ditched his 'tache some 6 days prior to the end of Movember.

Despite futile attempts to brush off speculation, one-time supporters of the 'tache are now concerned that the full-bodied mo they had come to admire may, in fact, have been nothing more than an elaborate, stubble-combover scam.

When publicly questioned about his latest facial incarnation, Mr Bitchino reportedly explained his actions by saying, "I fell down and my mo fell off".

Hmmmm...

Troubling times.

Raw Eggs

2006-12-01T22:31:00.000+10:00

I'm quite regularly overcome by the sheer wrongness of some things in this strange, strange world. And so it came to pass that this all-new-and-improved category of posts was spawned.

Kicking off are raw eggs.

I really hate raw eggs. Like, REALLY.

I am terrified of eggnog, and suspicious of moist cakes.

They are SO wrong, I don't even know how to say it. But a few words come to mind:

Slime
Dodgy smell
Blood spots
Possible baby chickens

Admit it. You're going to think twice the next time someone offers you an overeasy toad-in-the-hole*.

*Wikipedia notes the following similar names for this traditional egg/bread combo. Try to pick my favourite: frog in the pond, bird's nest, birdie in a basket, eggs in a basket, eggs in frames, peek-a-boo eggs, holey toast, egg in a hole, bullseye toast, one-eyed jack, egg in a window, egg on a raft, man on a raft, paddy egg, castle'd egg, special egg, knothole egg, Popeye egg, Egyptian eyes, one eyed egyptian sandwich, gibbly's willies, eggy bread, scout eggs (US Boy Scouts), "eggs with hats on top" and "eggy in the basket"

Busy & Important

2006-11-30T22:36:00.000+10:00

Yep, that's me.

And besides, it's been a big, huge day, involving:

The end of Movember!
Bindi's 1st birthday!
And the purchase of Viva Pinata!

So no blogging today. Ok? None. No corny jokes or jumped-up tirades to help you twiddle away the hours. You're just going to have to make your own fun. So go on. Off you go. Go and get some sunshine.

Idol Rantings

2006-11-26T19:45:00.000+10:00

A biased, blow-by-blow, contemporaneously tippity-tapped account of the night that stopped the nation.

Warning: If you don't like Idol, rantings, or relentlessly pov sarcasm, turn back now. On the other hand, if you don't like Reigan Derry, prepare to suckle at the altar my children.

Hooking in fashionably late at about 7.45 or so, the rave is kicking off with The Young Divas performing ‘Right About Now’ or some such. I still want some answers as to why Casey Donovan isn't the 5th Diva, but I fear this isn't the occasion to bring it up.

A quick transition to the latest Anthony Callea snoozetrack. I don't know what it is, but I know I don't like it. I'm slightly fixated by Callea's newly shaved head, but am shocked at the indecent lack of pink. All good Melbourne boys wear pink. His managers should be sacked.

Well, we're on to the state montage now – all the highs, lows and fillers that Idol is famous for. Ho hum.

Bringing artists back from the dead, Marcia and Deni are doing some 70s flashback that makes me feel sick. Disco music always makes me feel sick. I can't make out what the song's about. But check out Marcia’s glittery spandex jeans. My God. Do these people never age? Perhaps the dancing skill has declined, but I’m not convinced that it was tops to start with. The extensive panning shots lessen the impact of the spangles, but draw my attention to how much I loathe Sydney. Bloody flashy little town.

And did I mention that there’s a stack of back-up dancers supporting the Hines duo? Guess it gives the NIDA tryouts something to do. Looks like they employed half of Australia’s bodybuilding community also. Oh right, 'G' just said that the song was ‘Stomp’, so look out for that. Literally. Look out.

Oh heavens above. We’ve moved to the Telstra Street Idol winner who's scummed a stack of money for doing a totally shite version of Britney’s 'One More Time'. Wouldn’t you know it, she’s from Brisbane. My heart swells with pride. And she’s purportedly going to give the prize money to her parents to pay her school fees. Sure she is… her parents probably don’t even know she’s in Sydney.

Ad break and who would have thought, it’s Telstra banging on again. OH YEAH! AND the new 'All Night Long' Jupiters ad! Dang we love that ad! Better than Callea, that’s for sure. Aanyway, the next few ads are promoting foods I can’t eat, so let’s ignore them. Oh here we go. One of those Mazda/Idol ads. More specifically, that Mazda / Idol ad where Reigan Derry from Perth acts like a COMPLETE TOOL! I never liked her. I can’t believe she took on the George classic 'Breathe In Now'. Katie Noonan must be shuddering in her boots.

Rockin’. We’re back to it. Damien and Jessica's mums are chilling in the make-up room. They’re telling embarrassing stories that aren’t funny. Or embarrassing really. More filler. Any advice for Damo and Jess? “Good luck Jessie, and I hope you do well”. “Just relax and go with it”. Truckin' genius. I think Sheridan and the Maybelline Style Team wrote that for them.

'G' is back on the live outdoor stage. Lines are still open, and apparently I can make the difference. Must admit that I’m half tempted to give the old thumb a text frenzy just 'cause I’m so damn fed up with everyone saying that they want Jess to win. I can practically feel the unspoken finish to "I'm going for Jess" - “because that other guy doesn’t sound the same as us”. Losers. Jess is great. No doubt. But it's not like the world needs another Mariah – even if she is a lovely, smiley, 16 year old girl from the bush.

Guy Sebastian is rocking the outdoor stage now. What’s changed? He’s got a guitar, less hair and more attitude. Not to mention a somewhat unconvincing song. I think he might be trying to rock out. Perhaps taking a dead and shrivelled leaf out of Shannon Noll’s book? Nice vest anyways. Hmm… It’s not really holding my interest. Gee, I’m hungry. I managed to squeeze a shower into Callea’s monumental flop; perhaps I could whip up dinner in this one. OH S**T! Forget that!! The stage is FLOATING!!!! Talk about the wonders of technology. Looks like a giant ironing board. He should be careful. They can be tricky buggers to put back down. Wow, and so much smoke. Popping the stage must have opened the gates to hell.

Gee I don’t like this song. Or Sydney. At least someone turned off Guy's mike before he did a shout-out. Again, James Mathison has warned all that that track is 'Elevator Love'. Ooooooohhh… now I see why the stage had to go up.

Ads.

Oh please. 'G' just compared the Opera House to being one of the 7 wonders of the world.

And a throw to Shannon Noll’s new mushorama ‘Lonely’. BLURGH! The white jeans and dog tags are an interesting style statement. The phrase ‘turdy durge’ comes to mind. I’m glad Bindi’s joined me on the couch for a play.

Here we go. We’re talking to Shannon. He’s had a little girl this year. Fascinating. He’s going O/S to find some good writers. What is he saying about Australian writers?? Major faux pas there, my friend. OH NO! Here’s the audience shout-out. Go you good things.

More ads. Just annoyed hubby to go and make dinner. I can’t believe he’s missing all this action just to send out more Movember emails.

Damo and Jess are about to arrive it seems. To run with the regional diversity seen in Idol this year, the protagonists are entering via horse and cart cavalcade. What a rip off. I specifically voted for a double-decker Porsche. Oh my God. Leading the pack is Klancie Keough, escorting her breasts to the House. She is something else. Will modesty never reach the outback?

Final 2 outfits = Jess in a black strapless dress over pink ¾ tights. Damo in a sharp black suit with hoodie beneath. He’s so cool. Wow. Slowest walk up the red carpet ever. 'G' and Mathison are struggling. “Reaching for superlatives” says hubby. Statements like, “They’ve grown not just as performers, but as people.” Hmmm… “The nation's eyes upon them”. G and Matho keep yabbering on about the winner walking away as a recording artist. Like they both won’t. Has there been a single year when both finalists haven’t got a contract at the end of it? Guy and Shannon. Casey and Anthony, Kate and Emily. Nup, covered.

Finally, they’ve reached the summit. Jess & Damo are trying to talk, which is ordinarily the death nell for these Idol kiddies.

Back outside The Final 12 are doing a rendition of a Coldplay classic. Can’t believe I’ve already forgotten the names of some of them. But Dean Geyer. Dang, he’s so hot right now. The girls are going nuts. Liquid nuts. Why is Reigan at the front? Can’t somebody strap her to a train track or something? Ooooh, fireworks! Pretty. Pity the lighting on the O-House looks like the work of some crazed highlighters. So many fireworks. Spared no expense, I’d say. They obviously don’t have Level 4 fireworks restrictions south of the border. Damien and Jess have joined in the climax of the song, and are demonstrating why they’re the finalists. Lovely. Great song. Even hubby is humming along cooking the chops.

I’m so excited. Sounds like we’re about to actually get inside the House after a few short breaks.

We’ve made it inside, but another montage is upon us – flashbacks through the theatre rounds etc. George Beck. What. A. Tool. Thanks for reminding me about him. The commentary is more pap - “It would be a tougher competition than any other year”. Never heard that before. Man, there’s so too much Reigan in this montage. And not enough Bobby. He is a dead-set legend. Hold it. Did Mathison just say, “Whether they win or not, one of them is going to win”. No, I don’t think so. But boy I wish he did.

VOTING LINES ARE CLOSED. Do you hear me? So stop voting, you wallies. Another slow song to welcome us into the House. Age of Reason kicking off with REIGAN. NNNNOOOOOO! Who let her in? Klancie, you are rubbish too. The cute dimpled guy who I've forgotten is absolutely s***ting himself. Oh hell. We’ve pumped the song up to some fast disco track that should have stayed in the archives. Looks like a song montage on our hands. New transition to the rocky ‘Thinking about you, thinking about me. La da de da, la da de da" track. Forgotten the title. Should know. Afe will slam me for not knowing. Sweeet…. Bobby running with INXS classic Precious Heart. He really does look like Sideshow Bob. Which is even more weird, because, as hubby points out, Bobby's name is Bob too. Weeeiiirrrd… He’s passed the torch to Dean in a ripped-sleeve number. There’s so much bicep action going on that he just flexed Reigan off the stage. Ok, a little wishful thinking there. “You Really Got Me” with Chris Murphy. Ho hum. Not my thing. Back to Age of Reason with the Leith meister. He’s probably never heard the song before. And now Jess is at it. I hate to say it, but they both sound reasonably lame. Perhaps it’s because they want to puke on the front row.

Oh hell. J & D are talking again. Quick shift to Holden, decked out in the 100% white suit. Marcia, saying nothing again. And Kyle talking straight – he’s so real.

Ok, just finished dinner over this massive Jessica flashback and throw to the Territory. I’m trying to interpret Jess through the giggles. She’s going to sing after the break- 'When You Believe' – that same crap Mariah and Whitney song she sang last week. Who writes these songs? Is there some mush factory in the little known hills of Nepal churning this stuff out? I don’t know, but I’m sure Reigan’s involved. That’s right. If you’re reading this Reigan (yes, you know you can’t look away), then here’s the news flash. You’re not a hip young thing, you’re not a punkrocker. You are also… A Tool.

On to Damien now. That means another good 45 minutes of blurb. They called him ‘The People’s Tenor’ again. Gee, he must love that. Checking out the party at the Gaelic Club in Sydney, then across to Ireland. Aaaah… those Irish are so damn cute. They even say “good man”. Are they pissed? I think they’re offering him a dog. Out of all the great songs he’s done over the year, it seems Damo is, sadly, singing 'Nessun Dorma' tonight. Guess I can live with that.

Ok, they’ve promised the verdict very soon. I’m not convinced, and can’t stop yawning. More crosses to the respective party towns. More ads.

A final Top 12 performance. 'You Got the Music In You / You Only Get What You Give'. I like that one.

Right, well, we’re down to it now. I don’t know if Jess is going to cry or throw up. And I think Damien’s holding on to her for support. “And the winner of Australian Idol 2006 is…"

DAMIEN LEITH

Yeah! Good work Aus. You got this one right. As Damo says,

“Australian Idol. The best show on tv”.

At least until BB07.

22 Movember, 2200 hours

2006-11-23T21:35:00.000+10:00

Guess the Mo's Quote

Pop Quiz

"Oooh yeah. Who's your daddy?"
"No, YOU da man!"
"Youch!"
"My, is that a hamster up your nose?"

Only the mo knows, and he's not talking.

Forget NY...

2006-11-22T22:58:00.000+10:00

I Y PRAGUE

Liquid Dinosaurs

2006-11-22T13:23:00.000+10:00

I have tried and tried to resist the temptation of posting about these crazy Dinosaur Comics, which Afe in his infinite wisdom picked up some months ago. But I can take it no longer!

I particularly admire today's comic (yes, it changes every day), and those of you who check it out will undoubtedly, with much mirth, appreciate this post title.

But for those of you who don't take a look, and who don't have the foggiest idea what liquid dinosaurs have to do with anything, well tough. Shame on you for not checking in here more regularly!

Pride & Prestige

2006-11-21T21:58:00.000+10:00

No, you didn't read incorrectly. Jesse and I just returned from viewing 'The Prestige' - the newly-released flick starring Hugh Jackman, Christian Bale, Scarlett Johansson, random star, random star, etc etc etc.

Well, this is one of those films for which I really don't want to give anything away, so I shall say nothing other than what a couple of nutters...

See for yourself. And whatever you do...

Watch... Very... Closely...

Texas Holdem Poker Modown Night Thingy

2006-11-20T22:00:00.000+10:00

They came. They drank. They lost a bit of money. And self respect.

But the mo's were the winner on the night.

With a $15 chips buy-in and $5 entry fee going to Movember (good lads), it was clear that all were psyched for a serious evening of betting, bluffing and sticking cards on their heads.

As the high rollers gathered at the table, it was anyone's game. There were some seasoned pros and some cocky amateurs, but each had their tale to tell and all sought to leave triumphant with the smell of many many cheap, sticky chips still lingering on their palms.

Who would do it? Who's cuisine would reign supreme?

Well who cares, really?* The important thing is that Jesse lost all but his dacks and a stomping (though blurry) night was had all 'round.

*Ok, if you absolutely must know, I think the standing was something like Andy, Afe, Dave, Gav and, let me reiterate, hubby a distant last.

The Big Question

2006-11-20T21:54:00.000+10:00

How the truckin' rucker do you clean tile grout?*

No jokes.

Bugger the tiles. The tiles are sweet mate. It's the grout that sucks the very life from my bones...

*Seriously JB, this question is directed at you (if you ever stop partying to read my damn blog!)

Confessions Part 2

2006-11-17T22:15:00.000+10:00

The new Jesse McCartney album rulez!!!

Yeah! Rockin'!!! :)

Chillin'

2006-11-16T21:33:00.000+10:00

We've recently been a little worried about Boris*, one of Jesse's new work colleagues.

He works too hard, for too long, and takes everything in life just that little bit too earnestly.

The good news from today though, is that he's taking a well-earned holiday starting next week.

In Antarctica.

For a month.

On an ice-breaker research expedition.

As a volunteer subject.

*Subject's true identity has been withheld for oh so many reasons.

I Am Getting Ooooold

2006-11-16T20:53:00.000+10:00

I am getting old.

This fact hit me in a sudden burst of disappointment just the other day.

In a fit of unprecedented reminiscence, I dug out an ancient copy of Duke Nukem 3D - the definitive game of my schooling years - and slapped it onto the ol' PC. Naturally, it was with great, no-holds-barred anticipation that I mentally prepared myself for the rediscovery of this classic game.

I exercised no emotional restraint. I could taste the immeasurable victories which lay tantalisingly before me, and had committed my heart and soul to the game before it had finished installing.

Then I hit that glorious "New Game" button...

Well. I don't know what happened to Duke Nukem 3D over the last 10 or so years. But the graphics are crap. And the wiggly running around makes me sick. I can't aim, can barely jump, and jet-packing is entirely out of the question.

In short, this hack of a first-person shooter bears absolutely no resemblance to the Duke of my glory days.

And yet, as I rapidly uninstalled this abomination, a tiny, evil voice which would not be quietened whispered oh so gently that perhaps, just perhaps, the problem was the user and not the game.

Shut up little voice.

15 Movember, 1800 hours

2006-11-15T16:32:00.000+10:00

Antonio Banderas

Hubby Jesse

Never seen together at the same time.

Think about it.

Ending the Drought

2006-11-14T21:53:00.000+10:00

Today I had my first coffee in three weeks.

"Oooooh.... coooffeee......ghlghlghlghlghl"

Top Vintage

2006-11-14T08:31:00.000+10:00

Hubby and I recently checked out 'A Good Year' - a charming new flick featuring the not-so-enigmatic Mr Russell Crowe and the hip new thing, Ms Abbie Cornish. Although I wouldn't rate it as an earth-shattering piece of drama, it was interesting to see two Aussies play the lead British and American roles and, if nothing else, it certainly satisfied your quintessential all's-right-with-the-world tale of romance, wine-making and the important things in life.

But the best bit? Well, that would have to be the fact that this sweet little yarn was neatly wrapped up in the gorgeous wiles of Provence.

After our short stay in Paris last year, Jesse and I felt compelled to add France as a close second to Ireland in our shortlist of favoured foreign states. But so inspired were we by our recent rendezvous at the cinema that Jesse actually checked out the French working visa system today. (No exclamations of surprise for finding out that there is basically no such thing).

Truly, despite being unable to eat the staple diet of cheese and bread, seriously failing to speak French, and having adopted a zero tolerance attitude towards arrogance, we still cherish the dream of living in the nether regions of France one day.

One day...

Frogger

2006-11-12T20:03:00.000+10:00

Another of Bindi's many impressions.

Moving With The Times

2006-11-12T19:02:00.000+10:00

I've done it. After much deliberation, I've succumbed to the new Beta Blogger system. (The clincher came when the old Blogger stopped letting me choose my font colour. Really subtle encouragement to roll over, huh?)

Aaanyway, I can now easily pre-establish all of my font and background colours. But, in return, it looks as though my title background has buggered up a bit. Hmmm... not sure about that trade off.

Still, the message is, if you dislike or disagree with anything on this blog from now on, please be assured that it's not me. I had nothing to do with it. It's the new Blogger. Comprenda?

Oblivion Anon

2006-11-11T23:30:00.000+10:00

I've played some great games in my time. Sims, Duke Nukem 3D, Sleuth. But recently, I've been overwhelmingly disappointed with the same ol' same ol', boring, boycentric games pervading the market. Ok, I understand that the backers of these games are too nancy-pantsed to actually lash out on an innovative game that could be a monumental flop. But that understanding doesn't help me when I'm ready to spend some cold, hard cash.

I cannot overly stress my disgust at the current Xbox 360 range. What an absolute pack of rubbish - mindless zombie-smacking, army-stacking and sports games. BLURGH!

My only happy place in this void of misery, is the mighty, epic saga that is The Elder Scrolls IV - or 'Oblivion' for short. I love love love this game, and am most distressed that I've basically finished it.

Where oh where are the little jumpy man games for Xbox? The arcade games are lame as. Oh, how I wish they would bring back the classics... Captain Comic, Commander Keen, Double Dragon. (Clearly alliteration is the sign of a top game).

The take-home message? Work harder moles. Chicks like consoles too.

All I Want For Christmas...

2006-11-11T15:45:00.000+10:00

So Hot Right Now

2006-11-09T11:07:00.000+10:00

Show and tell time. Or, at least, a few musical comments ripe for purging.

Panic! At the disco - "A Fever You Can't Sweat Out"

How much am I loving these guys right now? SO much, let me tell you. I loath that slow, sooky-assed, punk rock rubbish that has been jamming the airways of late, but 'A Fever You Can't Sweat Out' is just my thing - fast, catchy and a little kooky. Oh! And so many great, zany, long song titles! I just hate that it's mainstream and overplayed. Grrr...

Robbie Williams - "Rudebox"

What did I miss here? I went to make a coffee, and in the meantime Robbie ripped out another extremely ordinary album. He may be the biggest pop icon in the world (tag-teaming with the illustrious J Timberlake), but someone needs to break it to Robbie that white men just can't rap. Truly. It all sounds like Ali G to me. There are some moderately interesting 80s throwbacks in the set, but generally, this album is just bad bad bad. Perhaps it could be amusing once 'round with alcohol... But probably not.

John Mayer - "Continuum"

Aaaaah, take a chill pill with young Mr Mayer. Easy listening, some poignant lyrics (I'm peachy keen on the 'Belief' track at the moment) and plenty of lazy guitar solos. Every day's a Sunday with this one. Lovely.

8 Movember, 0800 hours

2006-11-09T10:07:00.000+10:00

¡Buenos días mis camaradas!

¡Día 7 de Movember!

Observe por favor mi bigote magnífico, moles.

Y compruebe que 'blue steel' chiselled la acción del cheekbone.

Youch.

1 Movember, 0700 hours

2006-11-09T09:27:00.000+10:00

Hola!

Day 1 and Jesse is shaved and ready to rumble for a month of serious stubble trouble. Bring it on moles...

Check It Out Now (The Funk Mo Brother)

2006-11-04T14:45:00.000+10:00

When it comes to growing outrageous facial hair, Jesse doesn't need much encouragement. Holidays. A weekend. He can even produce an acceptable show of stubble before an evening is out.

The only thing that seems to get in the way of Jesse permanently falling to the lure of a Mexican mo' is, as with all things, work. And that is why it is with such excitement that I welcome you all to MOVEMBER!

That's right. The genius of Movember is an entire month of work-endorsed, slightly more socially acceptable, mo-growing. However, Movember is not just about raising the cultural profile of the moustache within our fair land. More importantly, Movember is about raising awareness of Men’s Health issues, and raising money to support the fight against these diseases. In particular, Movember seeks to raise awareness of:

Prostate Cancer.

Almost one in ten men will develop prostate cancer during his lifetime. Every year, around 10,000 Australian men are diagnosed and more than 2,700 die of the disease, making prostate cancer the second largest cause of male cancer deaths, after lung cancer. You can find out more on the Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia website.

Depression.

Depression affects 1 in 6 men…Most don’t seek help. Untreated depression is a leading risk factor for suicide. Rates of suicide are more than double the national road toll. You can find out more on the Beyond Blue website.

Testicular Cancer.

Testicular cancer is the\n second most common cancer in men aged 18-35 years. The number of men\n diagnosed with testicular cancer has grown by approximately 34% over the\n past decade, but the reason for this is not known. The good news is testicular\n cancer is highly curable when found early and treated promptly. You can find out more on the Association for International Cancer Research website.

More Information

To find out more about these Men’s Health issues or Movember itself, check out the official Movember website.

Make a Donation

For those of you who want to do more than just talk about Movember, you may be interested in sponsoring Jesse's mo and making a donation. All donations go to the Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia and beyondblue, the national depression initiative. You can donate by credit card on this donations site - simply enter Jesse's rego number (2135) and your credit card details. As usual all donations over $2 (including by credit card) are tax-deductible.

A series of photos highlighting the progression of Jesse's mo and flavour saver combo will be regularly posted on this blog. So enjoy, and give some thought to supporting this most excellent event.

Where's Wally?

2006-11-04T14:23:00.000+10:00

Hello again world!

As some of you may have noticed, I've taken a wee hiatus from my blog over the last few weeks. I could bore you all senseless with the details, but lets just say that I've been in the wars, medically speaking, and updating the blog simply fell off the agenda.

But now I'm back, so please forgive the rude interruption to your lunchtime reading habits. I do understand how irritating it must have been to find a new pastime at work, so I shall endeavour to make amends for my wayward behavior. Just give me a second to catch my breath...

Confessions Part 1

2006-09-29T20:36:00.000+10:00

I am disgrace.

But please, let me explain.

I have to take my blood pressure every morning and night (and input the data into the ridiculous Excel spreadsheet compulsively set up by Jesse). Needless to say, the honeymoon period for this mind-numbing practice concluded quite quickly. And so it came to pass that, in order to lessen the boredom of this process, I took up playing Spider Solitaire whilst pressuring away.

Ok, so perhaps that is understandable.

But my real confession is that I have recently found myself playing Spider Solitaire at times when... I'm NOT taking my blood pressure. I sometimes find myself just thinking about those neat little stacks of cards. Imagining what's underneath them. That queen of hearts I've been hanging out for? Surely not another five of clubs!

I shall just sit in the corner and quietly beat myself now.

A Rose By Any Other Name

2006-09-27T22:04:00.000+10:00

There are some truly inspirational job titles floating around at the moment. I thought Jesse's new-found position as a 'Solutions Architect' was a bit of a toss. But at least it doesn't lend itself to too many derogatory mutations.

It's not as if he's, say, the 'Applications Solutions Specialist'* - no cigar for working some magic on the acronym there. And what about the pitiful sod who slaved his way up the slippery corporate ladder to attain the illustrious title as 'Head of Tools'*. I mean it's bad enough being one of the ordinary Tools, but to be Head of Tools must be truly something.

*Do not doubt, my children. These are real titles employed by some of Australia's most trusted financial institutions.

Blow This

2006-09-27T21:58:00.000+10:00

Enough! Where do those QR kiddies get off blowing their nut-cracking train whistles every time they leave a station? It freaks the begoogles out of me!

Is it to alert the station master in case he's not looking out the window?
Is it to notify mice and assorted losers to get off the tracks??
Or is it just to hurt me???

Honestly. It's not like we're all standing there after the gong going, "Ooh. Will you look at at that. A train. Here. At a train station. Fancy."

The Calling

2006-09-26T18:38:00.000+10:00

I have had a realisation. Nay, a revelation!

I want to live on a FARM!

Not just any farm mind you. None of that digging things up or putting animals down rubbish. Oh no! I want to be a BERRY farmer!!

For not only are berries the very masters of the fruit world, but I could work from home, reside beyond a capital city and have tourists pay ME for the privilege of picking the little buggers themselves! Talk about the Australian way of life. Genius...

Nerdburglar

2006-09-19T22:34:00.000+10:00

This one is for the benefit of those poor poor souls who have not yet made the long trek to the right-hand sidebar to visit The Afe Blog. Much as I hate pinching cool stuff from our buddies' blogs, I can't resist subjecting the talents of this website to another posting.

Now, to explain. As you have no doubt already recognised, the visual below is a graphical representation of the migration of pygmy frogs after heavy rainfall in the Western Sahara. However, what you may NOT have so rapidly deduced my smug little bunnies, is that it ALSO represents the migration of Paris Hilton after a night on the turps... AND THIS VERY BLOG! Baha!!

If you're a complete nerdburger, you may be interested in knowing the following key:

Blue - links
Red - tables
Green - the DIV tag (whatever, nerdburgers...)
Violet - pickies
Yellow - forms
Orange - linebreaks and blockquotes
Black - the HTML tag
Gray - all the random stuff (lots of this)

Otherwise, just enjoy the colour and movement...

Quick Robin! To the batdog!!

2006-09-19T19:44:00.000+10:00

Sometimes I feel sad for Bindi... Not often mind you, (like now, as she scratches the life out of the back door). But when she's out on the deck playing with her best friend Mr Rope Toy, or second best friend Mr Random Rock From the Garden, I sometimes wonder if perhaps she would like a real, live, 'nother doggy to play with.

Jesse and I did actually give serious consideration to the possibility of a second pup - particularly as we'd recently seen our favourite 'ewok dog' out and about. But then, in an attempt to identify the true breed of the 'ewok dog' we googled around the net and found this...

We will NOT be getting a second dog.

Videomania!

2006-09-19T13:08:00.000+10:00

I am proud to announce that, in an unprecedented burst of laziness, we hired not one, not two, not even one more than two... but FOUR DVDs over the weekend! The hitlist stood as follows:

Wallace & Gromit : Curse of the Were-Rabbit
Pride & Prejudice
Howl's Moving Castle
2064

Now I'm not one to foist my views upon others (everyone nod), and I have to admit that we didn't actually get around to seeing 2064, but I must say that this was actually quite a fine collection of flicks.

Kicking-off, Curse of the Were-Rabbit was yet another entertaining romp with Wallace and Gromit. Lots of ridiculous people and events, and even more amusing than I remember W & G being previously. So if you're into play-dough, rabbits, or both (like me), this film could be just the right way to gloss over a Friday night.

Next off the mark was P & P - the latest remake of this classic tale. Upfront, I must admit that I don't really have a soft spot for Keira Knightley (I can't even say her name in my head without putting on an outrageously snooty accent), so the odds were stacked against this film. However, in usual period drama style a la 'Emma' and 'Sense & Sensibility', I soon found myself wound up in the many comings and goings of this tale. A warning from Jesse though: The beginning is a bit hard-going what with too many young girls squealing and gibbering on, but if you focus and repeat if necessary, you should pull through fine.

Last, and my personal favourite, was Howl's Moving Castle. What a wicked animated film! Once again, I am embarrassed that I haven't delved into this genre earlier... but I'm now happily converted. Although a bit on the long side, this story had a lot of surprising humour, an imaginative premise and lots and lots of sparkly magical stuff! SOLD!!

Aaanyway, that's my wrap-up of events. It's not David & Margaret, but what is? If anyone has any other recent film recommendations, please feel free to comment. And if anyone wants to disagree with the views expressed in this post, please feel free to sod off. Thank you.

Week of the Devil

2006-09-14T22:01:00.000+10:00

It is a bad week. A bad bad week. And I have had enough of it.

As a chaser to the coffee debacle that was Tuesday, and in an extremely unsurprising (or should I say 'unORIGINal') turn of events, a not-to-be-named gas company has destroyed my front garden.

The short version is that, under the laughable guise of moving our gas meter to the front of the house, an unruly mob of bumbling, Neolithic, putrid-orange-clad (and you know how I detest orange) bastards crash-tackled my garden. Not just any garden, mind you. My special newly-established garden which I have painstakingly watered with a crappy little watering can every day for the last 3 months.

Now although flipping completely off the hinge is not a common pastime for me, this wee shenanigan pulled the trigger. I had the phone at the ready and I wasn't afraid to use it. If only the damn complaints line was open beyond business hours. (Ha! Like 'business' hours even apply. 'Scum-sucking monopoly' hours perhaps, but I digress...)

The point is, I am now an angry angry little munchkin, with no garden and no meaningful avenue for revenge. In fact, my only solace comes in knowing that this is, without doubt, the Week of the Devil (oooooohhh); and if I can just make it through one more day, peace will return, balance will be restored, and those repugnant bastards will get hit by a tractor-trailer.

The Great Flood of '06

2006-09-12T09:54:00.000+10:00

I have just spilt my very very full cup of coffee all over my desk!

BUGGER!

Bloody twisted phone cord knocked it over!!

I don't usually shout myself a special non-instant coffee, but this morning I splurged. And for what? For a sticky pool of sludge all over everything!!! My phone, my files (eek), my pens, bulldog clips, holepuncher, business cards... (And no, it doesn't help that I am an absolute grot when it comes to putting away things on my work desk.)

Aaanyway, I have embarrassingly made numerous trips to the bathroom/kitchen to get paper towels to mop this mess up. So my desk now looks better than ever - pity about the distinctive smell though... I wonder if anyone will notice...

Just Throwing It Out There

2006-09-09T15:20:00.000+10:00

That last post was disgustingly serious, wasn't it? Really. Who am I to tell you where you should and shouldn't breakfast over your weekend? It is your truckin' weekend after all, isn't it??

Well, perhaps. But I'm not quite done with the cafe scene yet...

My concern now rests with the latest trend of people rating themselves on the strength of their coffee of choice. You know what I'm talking about. How many times have you heard someone comment on how strong their coffee is? All the time! (Though these people only whisper their comments quietly to their fellow sippers, and it goes no further than the table.)

Now, consider those people who actually complain to the wait staff about their coffee. Those special special people who should really just spare everyone the drama and inject their caffeine in the privacy of their own home. No coffee is too strong, too tough, nay, too packed with manly bitterness, for these kids. Milk is a soft option and sugar (cubes or otherwise) is for pussy-boys.

And so it goes that, because these junkies are so outspoken and such a hassle for cafe staff to deal with, I cop a super-concentrated cup of ruddy tar every time I order a skinny cap (weak with extra milk and sugar).

Well, I'm not whispering about how strong my coffee is any more! People! I'll give it to you straight! STOP MAKING REALLY REALLY RIDICULOUSLY STRONG COFFEE!!

And as for those jumped-up coffee Nazis out there who'd rather lose an eye than admit that their extra-caffeinated cuppa tastes like c**p, just take a second to put your fat head aside and think about the rest of us the next time you're about to go loco.

I will say no more than that. You know who you are.

Serendipity Baby

2006-09-09T14:11:00.000+10:00

Woohooo! It's Saturday. Even though this particular Saturday also heralds state election day and blood test day in my books (double youch), the sun is shining, the birds are singing and it's a snappy damn day.

Partial credit for my enthusiasm today must go to a cute little spot Jesse and I hit for brekkie this morning - 'Serendipity' - tucked away in a wee corner of Kedron Brook Road. You could be forgiven for not noticing this quaint coffee bar. Between the big pizza joints, Coffee Club and assorted retail outlets, it sits quietly; biding its time until some unsuspecting customer stumbles upon one of its sunny spots and pulls up a pew. Which is precisely what happened to Jesse and I.

With an unpretentious breakfast menu which won't hurt the wallet, I was immediately hooked. Lovely genuine salt and pepper grinders adorned the little tables, together with white bowls filled with, (hurrah!), the now seemingly endangered sugar cubes.

After squandering sufficient time sunning ourselves and reading the papers, I couldn't help but wonder why more people don't frequent small privately operated cafes over the large chain brands cropping up everywhere. I mean, I appreciate that if you visit a chain store, you're probably going to find something you like and something consistent. But, to my mind, the consistency of such places is usually in the mediocre level of their service, quality and atmosphere.

So come on Brisbaninianses! Take a page out of Melbourne's book and, next weekend, instead of rushing to your local American styled coffee joint, seek out a hidden gem of charm and authenticity, and post a comment letting everyone else know just how good the little independent guys can be!

Please Explain

2006-09-06T22:15:00.000+10:00

As a general rule, I hate awards shows. I hate the glitz. I detest the glamour. And I boo the less than witty banter of the hosts.

But when I stumbled upon this photo from the recent MTV video music awards, I began to wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, I was missing something.

The women squashed like so many shameless hussies into the bottom of the above picture constitute the all-singing all-dancing "Pussy Cat Dolls," who in this shot had just won an award for doing the best bump-n-grind in a music video this year.

Now ordinarily, I would be somewhat perturbed by this whole situation, and would launch into some aimless rant about music these days, and why is it such rubbish, and what do the 17 other Pussy Cat Dolls do anyway. But instead, I found myself drawn to the blinding message MTV was sending to the world. A single word. The word which, so I hear, has been voted funniest common English word for three years running. PANTS!

Odd. Because I'd put money on the bet that the Pussy Cat Dolls were not wearing pants. They did not talk about pants. They didn't even thank "pants" for making this award possible. In fact, I bet they only infrequently think of pants in any meaningful way, if at all.

Yet there it was. Pants. Deep.

Make Poverty History

2006-09-05T20:30:00.000+10:00

This is what happens when you put a gummi bear in water.

"Oooooohhh..." I hear you gasp.

Well, oooohhh indeed. Not only is this latest wonder of science visually impressive, but it may just represent the next natural leap in making poverty history.

Just for a second, imagine the implications of this photo in the circumstance that you are lucky enough to scoff a couple of gummi bears over morning tea. Upon digestion, your naughty indulgence would become a snack. What then, about a handful of gummies? Why, that's lunch. And dream, just dream, of what could become if the Gummi factory were to air-drop tonnes of gummies over those struggling third world nations....

Goodbye poverty. Hello diabetes. Aaaaahhh...

Frazzled

2006-08-31T22:15:00.000+10:00

I love my hairdresser.

She is truly the most bestest hairdresser that ever a hairdresser was.

I first met her when I had to pick up some outrageous curls for my formal, and since that time we've gone through perms, foils, my wedding and everything. Even when the lad and I lived in Melbs for three years, I still got my hair done every time I returned to Brissy. Even now, I travel half way across town to see her.

Needless to say, the inspiration for this post is that I saw my hairdresser this very evening. Yay! As usual, we had our little banter about work, married life, and just how very slack I am at coming in every six weeks (though we both admired my efforts at only taking eight weeks this time 'round.)

And then she hit me with it. Yes, my most irreplaceable dresser of hairs told me that she was pregnant and due in three very short months - "one visit for you" as she so tactfully put it.

This news was harrowing. After all, she is my one and only hairdresser. I said all the right things, "Girl or boy?" (Girl.) "Name?" (Abby. But only if it's cute. Apparently you can't call an ugly baby Abby.)

Aaanyway, I eventually worked my way around to asking if she was going to take much time off for the wee bub. She just said that it would depend on how horrible it was...

A likely story. She's going to leave me. I know it. She's going to leave me and the evil evil regrowth I'll have by then!! I can't bear to think of it. I wonder perhaps if she'd keep working if I promised to come in every six weeks. Every six weeks I tell you! AND I'll buy professional styling products!!

Yep, that'll clinch it. Aaaahhh, yet another close shave avoided. Good work Al!

Always look on...

2006-08-28T22:40:00.000+10:00

... the dark side of life. At least at the moment, as all of our house lights have just blown.

It seems Jesse has recently attempted to change one of our front outside lights, and in so doing has plunged us into darkness and nearly electrocuted himself.

But mainly plunged us into darkness.

'Night all.

Big Tease

2006-08-28T22:10:00.000+10:00

Has anyone checked out Lux's new "Luminous Touch" body wash? Whilst dawdling down the bathroom aisle at Coles the other day (home of NAS tomato sauce, remember), I couldn't resist the beautifully tantalising new Lux body wash bottles. This particular "Luminous Touch" bottle was a lovely golden hue with little sparkly things on it, and it couldn't help but make you feel glad to be grubby.

Aaanyway, having purchased said bottle, I rushed home and jumped in the shower, ready to give it a red hot rumble. Well, it smelled fantastic and it looked gorgeous - all shiny and full of glittery bits. I couldn't help but drift off into images of the new bronzed Aussie Al that was sure to emerge from this cleansing extravaganza. After all, this luxurious goop was packed with 'shea cream' and 'skin illuminators', or so the bottle told me. (NB: I'm not sure what skin illuminators are exactly, but I imagine that they must be bubbly little critters with great personalities. Like this.)

In fact, the bottle went so far as to say that this body wash "...wraps your skin in a light reflective veil of shea cream and delicate skin brighteners, leaving your skin with a beautiful glow you can see."

I ask you, with descriptors like that, it is any wonder that I am saddened to say that, since using Luminous Touch yesterday, not one person has commented on how much I look like Jennifer Hawkins. In fact, nobody appears to have noticed my newly-acquired veil of luminosity at all.

Still, don't get me wrong. I don't mean to be defamatory in any way. Indeed, it may just be my particular bottle that doesn't quite hit the mark. But I can't help but think that there seems to be an inherent conflict of interest between something that will enveil my skin despite being 'rinsed well'. In fact, it gives me pause to consider, where oh where is an over-zealous disclosure regime when you really need it?

Genius

2006-08-27T18:30:00.000+10:00

I must share my excitement. Amongst normal people, it is probably a little known fact that a most stupendous game is coming out on XBox 360 at the end of this year...

VIVA PINATA!!!

I love sim games.

I love animals. I love plants. I love pinatas.

And Viva Pinata unites all these things in one magical sim game! Wooohoooooooo!

Anyone who's keen to find out what I'm babbling about should check out Rare's dedicated VP page - though this site alone really doesn't do it justice.

Par-tay!

2006-08-27T14:00:00.000+10:00

The lovely Michelle celebrated her 23rd birthday in 'M' style on Friday night, with many monks, Mexicans and miscellaneous madmen in attendance.

Unfortunately, yours truly decided to run with a Mohican outfit, which was clearly a little obtuse for most of the party-goers. (Guesses included Mayan, Montezuman and Pocahontas. COME ON PEOPLE!)

Aaanyway, it's been a while since I attended a humdinger fancy dress party, so it was great to see the outstanding effort everyone made to get into the theme. There were authentic matadors and Monkey Magic pilgrims - even Merv made a show, mo and all. Hats went off to Gav as a balding monk, and nobody could outdo the birthday girl resplendent as a blue M&M.

My only disappointment was that Sing Star wasn't pulled out for the occasion. (Perhaps next time). But fortunately everyone seemed to cope and have a rollicking good time nonetheless.

"Sneakers" Pah!

2006-08-23T19:30:00.000+10:00

An interesting observation.

A work buddy of mine, Shev, ventured into the mall today (lunchtime no less), to pick out a new pair of runners. Her old pair of runners were white with hot pink highlights. Her new pair of runners are sort of egg-shell blue with white and maroon details. This got me thinking.

Why do sneakers only come in zany colours?? All those brazen pinks and yellows. Not to mention spawn-of-the-devil orange. And even those white shoes that went easy on the colours can peel paint of cars.

I just want reserved runners. Softly-spoken sneakers that won't take your eye out. Must my comfy shoes always look so wretchedly horrid with a suit and stockings that I am compelled to walk in heels to work??

I am sick and tired of trying to buy gym clothes that match the wacky sneaker colours I despairingly committed to earlier. Is it any wonder that, in stark contrast to runners, gym clothes only seem to come in white, black and grey.

Again, I would call for reform. But having failed in my rally to convince middle-aged men not to order their Ferraris in corn-puss yellow, I fear I shall have to just let this one go.

Smartest Dog Alive

2006-08-22T22:00:00.000+10:00

I am somewhat perturbed. It's a long story, but the short version is that I have returned from work to find that Bindi has chewed up my nice new pink razor. Of course, by 'chewed' I mean rendered utterly lifeless. Disturbingly, the actual razor head has yet to be located. So if I'm not at work tomorrow, I'm at the vet...

BTW

2006-08-21T13:30:00.000+10:00

Forget petrol prices. In a sad turn of events my standard lunch of fruit salad and yogie has gone up by 40c. I am so disillusioned.

Don't Think I Don't Know You're Out There

2006-08-21T13:15:00.000+10:00

Dear All (and by 'All' I mean those special special people I specifically emailed this blog to), this is just a polite post to let you know that I know that you are not spending nearly enough time reading my blog. I am particularly devastated that all my so-called music officiando buddies have not leapt into answering that damn song title quiz thingy. Do you have any idea how many times I had to listen to the start of those songs?? I don't even like some of them!! :(

So here it is. Cards on the table. I know when you visit and I know when you don't. I know the dodgy dodgy sites you've linked in from and I know just how very little time you stayed on my dodgy site. I don't want to name names and I don't want to place any extra pressure on you guys. But I'm keeping a list, and Christmas cards may depend on that list. So you've been warrrrrned! Hahahahaarrharrrrrrrr...

Clash of the Titans

2006-08-20T22:30:00.000+10:00

Hello dear world. It has been but 20 minutes since my last post. And in that time, I've been thinking. Thinking about work. Thinking about blogs. But mainly thinking about whether it is better to be a wizard or an elf.

Elf Ali: "Must you even pause? We elves are intriguing, haunting, and really, really, ridiculously good-looking. We have big pointy ears, are nigh-immortal and make lovely quiet neighbours. Our magic is subtle - no ghastly flashes and hocus pocus. We are masters of the elements; and hold alcohol like a treat."
Wizard Ali: "Touche, my tree-hugging friend. I may have the tolerance of a gibbon, but I can turn you into a gibbon also. And who hasn't laughed at a gibbon with big pointy ears?"
Elf Ali: "Mock me not, monkey-boy, or I shall be forced to stun you with my chiseled features."
Wizard Ali: "Ho-ho! Not before you meet the pointy end of my wand rodent friend! Methinks a duel is at hand!!!"

Zing Zing!

Kapow!

Grrrr!

Shazam!

To be continued....

The Lopsided Square

2006-08-20T22:10:00.000+10:00

Question. Are doonas square?

My better half would like to claim that ours is, but I beg to differ.

This quandary came into play when one of our (yet to be identified) petties left a gift on our usual oodna-doonie, and we had to call for a reinforcement. Well now, doonie mark 2 looked fine on the bed, but within 5 minutes of hitting the pillow it became apparent that this blanky was tiny - a facewasher. At least on MY side anyway.

I knew that Jesse couldn't possibly have been asleep at that stage, so I made a few little grumpy noises to give him the idea... but no response. Becoming increasingly huffier, I then tried to pull the blanky over, no longer really caring whether Jesse was asleep or not. But no joy was had.

And that is when I started thinking that the doona must have been the wrong way round. You know. Stretching long-ways down the bed... Which made sense if Jesse wanted to keep his monster feet warm. However, when confronted in a blur of anger later that night, I was impolitely assured that no, the doona was square, and there was no 'wrong way round'. Humph.

I'm not convinced. And since I seem to have been doing quite well in the blanky stakes since that night, I'm reading the lack of follow-up as implied consent. Ali - 1. Jesse - none none none!

The Which Wing?

2006-08-20T21:45:00.000+10:00

A request. Can everybody who understands The West Wing please raise their hands?

Just as I suspected...

Is it just me, or is this one of the fastest-talking most quick-witted programs on tv at the moment? Maybe it helps if you're American, but I don't know. It makes absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. To check whether, in fact, it literally is 'just me', I recently conducted a poll at work involving the one other person I know who watches The West Wing. His viewing of the program was recounted as follows:

Friend's wife: "So do you know what they're talking about?"
Friend: "Nup".
Friend's wife: "Do you know what that person is doing?"
Friend: "Nup".
Friend's wife: "Do you even know what show this is?"
Friend: "Yep, it's The West Wing - top show!"

And that is the ridiculous enigma that is The West Wing.

Roll Up Roll Up

2006-08-20T20:00:00.000+10:00

Hello hello! Welcome all to my little house! As you can see, it's pretty weeny, and tightly nestled between its fellow housey neighbours. But if you only want 3 stops to town, that's what you get.

Now for those friends afar, I thought I'd include a little picki of our front yard which has caused us so much grief. Essentially, what you see here has involved days of tireless labour (mainly from Jesse and his dad), due to the numerous tonnes of concrete originally used to fill our front lawn. I kid you not. A few piles of the evil stuff are still lingering around the place.

Aaanyway, no jokes in this post unfortunately - just a practical note to fill my overdue obligation to post some photos of our new place.

i m kool

2006-08-17T20:33:00.000+10:00

I have obtained my first official 'comment'! It did, perhaps, demonstrate a little more 'tude than anticipated...

...but hurrah for me!! I have made it in the blogging world!