I was on Google analytics yesterday, and learned that apparently people are still visiting this site. Rather than have Julian's party invite as the last post of this once-esteemed journal, I thought I'd post a collection of links to some of this blog's 'greatest hits':
Brown Jesus is a Buddhist
Australia Day '07: A self-indulgent photo essay
Kate slanders George
Alice shares the love
Valentine's Day '07 - A disturbing photo essay
The post wherein George used a naughty word, only to censor himself later on
Kate recalls losing her virginity
That bloody helicopter game
Kate lays down the smack - Andrew ridiculed
Fringe Parade '07 - a photo essay featuring shiny things
That time I provoked a much more famous blogger. Whoops!
The Power Rangers. Kind of.
Andrew slanders George
In snooty lawyer mode, Andrew whinges about coffee
Tintin gets a bit blue
Victor Harbour: a drunken photo essay
Chinatown, laksa and crazy people
Worst cocktail ever
The Rock Off!: a rockin' photo essay
George thinks he's funny - opinions vary
Walking home: the final photo essay
I hope these posts will make you smile one day when you've got nothing to do at work. For my part, I'm surprised how nostalgic one can become over events that happened less than a year ago.
Of course, we're all still around, so I propose to post below any noteworthy fragments of our continuing digital existence. Here's something to get us started:
Andrew spills the beans on Hindmarsh for Crikey.com.au
If youse guys think there's a link that should be posted here, let me know.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Hi everybody!!
..."Hi Doctor Julian!" I hear you cry in return.
Or something.
Anyway, being that it is the season of upcoming birthdays, I figured it's easiest to post it in here that I'm going to be in Adelaide just after my birthday, and am throwing an informal party.
'Twill be at my parents' place on Friday the 21st of September, and will be simply getting dinner of some description (possibly Indian; possibly Danny's Pizza), drinking, and probably stumbling down to Boho for more of the former. And donuts.
As for what time, I haven't officially decided, though there will likely be people around the house all day, so anytime in the afternoon onwards should be fine.
There'll also be various guests over from interstate, so you can either be sociable and meet people or just drink. Or both! :oP
So just bring yourself, some money for dinner and yer booze.
:o)
Apologies if this treads on anyone else's toes, but it's really the only night I'm going to be in Adelaide and free, as well as the interstaters visiting
Or something.
Anyway, being that it is the season of upcoming birthdays, I figured it's easiest to post it in here that I'm going to be in Adelaide just after my birthday, and am throwing an informal party.
'Twill be at my parents' place on Friday the 21st of September, and will be simply getting dinner of some description (possibly Indian; possibly Danny's Pizza), drinking, and probably stumbling down to Boho for more of the former. And donuts.
As for what time, I haven't officially decided, though there will likely be people around the house all day, so anytime in the afternoon onwards should be fine.
There'll also be various guests over from interstate, so you can either be sociable and meet people or just drink. Or both! :oP
So just bring yourself, some money for dinner and yer booze.
:o)
Apologies if this treads on anyone else's toes, but it's really the only night I'm going to be in Adelaide and free, as well as the interstaters visiting
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Here's something you don't know...
This morning I dreamt I was at the Rex. Andy from the Whitlams was playing a solo show. He sung really well, but his guitar was a bit quiet. The crowd listened very respectfully and with some sadness, because they knew as well as I that Andy from the Whitlams had died years ago, and he was playing to us from the other side. Then I was woken by the construction noises from next door, and I lay in bed a while.
Here's something else: this will be my last post on this blog. I was getting a bit frustrated of writing stuff that nobody was reading or responding to. At the same time, I wasn't really writing what I wanted to, when I wanted to, so it was kind of the worst of both worlds. I think a good blog has to have a certain critical mass of interaction, otherwise it's just someone's diary that (to the embarassment of both writer and occasional reader) has ended up on the 'net.
2 final thoughts, both earnestly held:
- Thanks, everyone;
- Go fuck yourselves.
Here's something else: this will be my last post on this blog. I was getting a bit frustrated of writing stuff that nobody was reading or responding to. At the same time, I wasn't really writing what I wanted to, when I wanted to, so it was kind of the worst of both worlds. I think a good blog has to have a certain critical mass of interaction, otherwise it's just someone's diary that (to the embarassment of both writer and occasional reader) has ended up on the 'net.
2 final thoughts, both earnestly held:
- Thanks, everyone;
- Go fuck yourselves.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Bad politics. Horrible web design.
So I was browsing the Kevin07 site today. Don't know why; it must have been a slow news day on the Internet. At least Kevvy seems to be saying all the right things, for example we now know that he doesn't much like sweatshops. What a brave position to take.
Anyway, on a political blog I was reading there was a guy paying Rudd out for being too slow to get in on the whole Internet campaign thing. Okay, maybe that's a fair cop. But this guy is apparently running as an independent for the Victorian senate, and he has a web site. You need to visit it. This is the future of the Internet, people. For further hilarity, read his policies. I dare not look at his video blogs.
...actually, I'm bored. I'm going to look at his video blogs.
[09/08/07 - Edit: oh.]
Anyway, on a political blog I was reading there was a guy paying Rudd out for being too slow to get in on the whole Internet campaign thing. Okay, maybe that's a fair cop. But this guy is apparently running as an independent for the Victorian senate, and he has a web site. You need to visit it. This is the future of the Internet, people. For further hilarity, read his policies. I dare not look at his video blogs.
...actually, I'm bored. I'm going to look at his video blogs.
[09/08/07 - Edit: oh.]
Monday, August 6, 2007
To Alice:
CHALLENGE GEORGE! It's for his own good, really. If we don't tell him off when he treats the English language like a pile of shit, he'll never learn.
[For those not in the know: George, Alice and I are playing a game of scrabble. George's latest turn involves the formation of the rather creative word 'tweeti'. Perhaps this is a peace agreement signed between two inbred Roman emperors...]
[For those not in the know: George, Alice and I are playing a game of scrabble. George's latest turn involves the formation of the rather creative word 'tweeti'. Perhaps this is a peace agreement signed between two inbred Roman emperors...]
Musings
So the Shins gig last night got me thinking about music, and about albums, and about how musicians put albums together. As Julian will attest, I have strong views about the structure of albums. I believe that great albums are more than just the sum of their songs.
More specifically, I got to thinking about what makes a good opening track for an album. I was thinking this because the Shins opened their concert last night with tracks #1 (Sleeping lessons) and #2 (Australia) off their most recent album. And that was pure genius.
My humble theory is that an opening track on an album needs to be a palate cleanser. It exists to make you forget any music you've just been listening to; to wake you up, maybe even shock you; to say 'hey, you're listening to us now. I think the best opening tracks are uncomplicated, simple, relatively short, and very melodic.
Some other great opening tracks:
- 'Hindley Street' off Powderfinger's Internationalist album
- 'Rockin' Rocks' off Powderfinger's Vulture Street
- 'One Crowded Hour' off Augie March's Moo, You Bloody Choir
- 'As I Sat Sadly By Her Side' off Nick Cave's And No More Shall We Part
- 'Jenny Don't Be Hasty' off Paolo Nutini's These Streets
- '2 + 2 = 5' off Radiohead's Hail to the Thief
Can you guys think of some other awesome opening tracks? What about closing tracks? What makes a good last track on an album?
P.S: for the record, the Shins were fantastic. They play a style of music that doesn't really lend itself to a live concert, but they were tight and the sound mix was fantastic. I came out of the concert thinking that it was a good but not great show. But that night I couldn't get to sleep for thinking about the show. The next morning I woke up hearing 'Australia' in my head, and with an intense desire to play some Shins music. Like a good film sometimes isn't good until you realise you're still thinking about it a week later, now I think it's one of the best concerts I've been to.
More specifically, I got to thinking about what makes a good opening track for an album. I was thinking this because the Shins opened their concert last night with tracks #1 (Sleeping lessons) and #2 (Australia) off their most recent album. And that was pure genius.
My humble theory is that an opening track on an album needs to be a palate cleanser. It exists to make you forget any music you've just been listening to; to wake you up, maybe even shock you; to say 'hey, you're listening to us now. I think the best opening tracks are uncomplicated, simple, relatively short, and very melodic.
Some other great opening tracks:
- 'Hindley Street' off Powderfinger's Internationalist album
- 'Rockin' Rocks' off Powderfinger's Vulture Street
- 'One Crowded Hour' off Augie March's Moo, You Bloody Choir
- 'As I Sat Sadly By Her Side' off Nick Cave's And No More Shall We Part
- 'Jenny Don't Be Hasty' off Paolo Nutini's These Streets
- '2 + 2 = 5' off Radiohead's Hail to the Thief
Can you guys think of some other awesome opening tracks? What about closing tracks? What makes a good last track on an album?
P.S: for the record, the Shins were fantastic. They play a style of music that doesn't really lend itself to a live concert, but they were tight and the sound mix was fantastic. I came out of the concert thinking that it was a good but not great show. But that night I couldn't get to sleep for thinking about the show. The next morning I woke up hearing 'Australia' in my head, and with an intense desire to play some Shins music. Like a good film sometimes isn't good until you realise you're still thinking about it a week later, now I think it's one of the best concerts I've been to.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Walking home
Last Saturday night, after the Rock Off, I took a bit of a drunken wander home. Luckily, I had my trusty camera with me. Unluckily it was dark and rainy, and I was drunk. Not ideal conditions for photography. Still, a few shots turned out nicely. Clicky for bigger versions:
The larger version of this one is rather... large. 1920 x 1200 to be exact. That's the resolution of my screens at work; I'm gonna get my backgrounds on. If you fancy any of these images so much that you want to use them for your background, let me know, and I'll give you an appropriately sized copy.
This is another big-style photo.
Warning: big one.
Another big one. The colour sucked in this one so I got rid of it!
Big. Don't say I didn't warn you.
It did occur to me while taking this shot that if anyone had spotted me at that moment, they'd see me standing in a bush taking rushed photos of one of the more important sites for Adelaide's electricity infrastructure. I might have been given a free trip to Cuba.
I am so happy with this shot. Drunk people just shouldn't be able to frame this well.
The larger version of this one is rather... large. 1920 x 1200 to be exact. That's the resolution of my screens at work; I'm gonna get my backgrounds on. If you fancy any of these images so much that you want to use them for your background, let me know, and I'll give you an appropriately sized copy.
This is another big-style photo.
Warning: big one.
Another big one. The colour sucked in this one so I got rid of it!
Big. Don't say I didn't warn you.
It did occur to me while taking this shot that if anyone had spotted me at that moment, they'd see me standing in a bush taking rushed photos of one of the more important sites for Adelaide's electricity infrastructure. I might have been given a free trip to Cuba.
I am so happy with this shot. Drunk people just shouldn't be able to frame this well.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
This thing here
Sometimes I think good journalism is a dying art. In fact, that's a thought I have most mornings as I read The Australian. But here is a cracker of an article. Almost journalism as art. If you've got a spare ten minutes, have a read.
A critique
Three - that's the number of 'mature age' students I've identified in my Law and Literature class after our first seminar. Now, I use the term 'mature age' as shorthand for any student who possesses the unshakeable belief that anything that issues from their mouth is insightful and fascinating to those around them. 'Mature age' students think that everyone turns up to class only to hear them speak. They will happily interrupt and contradict the lecturer if they think they can 'add' something to the discussion.
These additions often take the form of a long anecdote about some personal experience that is only tangentially related to the topic at hand. Occasionally they chuck in an embarrassing religious view or a sweeping statement on 'who is to blame' for the social problem at hand that does nothing to advance the debate.
As it happens, two of the three 'mature age' students in my class are mature age students. The other young woman has no excuse whatsoever. We've also got two emos. At this early stage, it seems like the emos will pepper the class with comments, some of which will be extremely insightful, but most of which will be... well, postmodern emo rubbish.
Now, don't get me wrong. I think it's great to have discussion-based classes at university. And most of the people doing law are intelligent, decent, and courteous human beings. A stimulating discourse is possible in such an environment. But when a few people monopolise the conversation just to hear the sound of their own voices, the signal-to-noise ratio drops dramatically.
If I was running a seminar, I'd employ a system whereby everyone could make a maximum number of comments per session. I'd suggest two per person per hour. That way, people would only speak if they had something meaningful to say. It would also let some of the less domineering people get more engaged with the class.
I guess the reason I'm a bit worked up about this is that Law and Literature looks like it has the potential to be a really interesting, thought-provoking topic. Here's hoping it doesn't get hijacked by the lowest common denominator.
Oh, and by the way...
...this is post #100 for our humble blog. Who would ever have thought we'd make it this far? Let's hope the next hundred posts are as enlightening and lively as this lot, and let's see some more participation from some of our less prolific members. Tell you what: the more you guys write, the less I will. Now that's an offer you can't refuse!
These additions often take the form of a long anecdote about some personal experience that is only tangentially related to the topic at hand. Occasionally they chuck in an embarrassing religious view or a sweeping statement on 'who is to blame' for the social problem at hand that does nothing to advance the debate.
As it happens, two of the three 'mature age' students in my class are mature age students. The other young woman has no excuse whatsoever. We've also got two emos. At this early stage, it seems like the emos will pepper the class with comments, some of which will be extremely insightful, but most of which will be... well, postmodern emo rubbish.
Now, don't get me wrong. I think it's great to have discussion-based classes at university. And most of the people doing law are intelligent, decent, and courteous human beings. A stimulating discourse is possible in such an environment. But when a few people monopolise the conversation just to hear the sound of their own voices, the signal-to-noise ratio drops dramatically.
If I was running a seminar, I'd employ a system whereby everyone could make a maximum number of comments per session. I'd suggest two per person per hour. That way, people would only speak if they had something meaningful to say. It would also let some of the less domineering people get more engaged with the class.
I guess the reason I'm a bit worked up about this is that Law and Literature looks like it has the potential to be a really interesting, thought-provoking topic. Here's hoping it doesn't get hijacked by the lowest common denominator.
Oh, and by the way...
...this is post #100 for our humble blog. Who would ever have thought we'd make it this far? Let's hope the next hundred posts are as enlightening and lively as this lot, and let's see some more participation from some of our less prolific members. Tell you what: the more you guys write, the less I will. Now that's an offer you can't refuse!
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Welcome to my world
Sometimes people ask me what I do for my other job. Well, this is what I do:
Clicky for a larger view. It's a work of art. I'll charge my client approx $75 for it. I have very little idea what this diagram I've created represents. But I don't care. I got paid to draw a truck.
Clicky for a larger view. It's a work of art. I'll charge my client approx $75 for it. I have very little idea what this diagram I've created represents. But I don't care. I got paid to draw a truck.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Dodgiest Joke Ever
Check it out, I just came up with it!
Why did the psychic cross the road?
To get to the other side.
Why did the psychic cross the road?
To get to the other side.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Rock Off!
What a great night! Here's to many more rock offs to come!
Heaps more great photos of the night can be found here. You shouldn't need a Facebook account to see these, but if you're having trouble, let me know. It's so much easier to upload photos to facebook than this blog, so from now on I'll probably just put most of my photos up on my Facebook profile. So you should all get accounts chop chop!
P.S. George, check your facebook. It's your turn in our scrabble game.
Heaps more great photos of the night can be found here. You shouldn't need a Facebook account to see these, but if you're having trouble, let me know. It's so much easier to upload photos to facebook than this blog, so from now on I'll probably just put most of my photos up on my Facebook profile. So you should all get accounts chop chop!
P.S. George, check your facebook. It's your turn in our scrabble game.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Worst. Cocktail. Ever.
You will need:
- 1 Large Hungry Jacks Coke
- Remainder of an almost-empty Johnny Walker Black Label bottle
- Remainder of an almost-empty Jose Cuervo Tequila bottle
- A dash of gin
Method:
Mix carelessly
Tasting notes:
It doesn't taste as bad as it sounds, but every sip makes your soul cry out in shame. By the time you've reached the bottom of that paper cup, you've died a little inside and your self respect has been obliterated. Cheers!
- 1 Large Hungry Jacks Coke
- Remainder of an almost-empty Johnny Walker Black Label bottle
- Remainder of an almost-empty Jose Cuervo Tequila bottle
- A dash of gin
Method:
Mix carelessly
Tasting notes:
It doesn't taste as bad as it sounds, but every sip makes your soul cry out in shame. By the time you've reached the bottom of that paper cup, you've died a little inside and your self respect has been obliterated. Cheers!
Friday, July 27, 2007
Quote of the day
"A small town that can't support one lawyer can almost always support two."
[Edit: I just realised this quote has added significance on the day that the C7 Judgement was handed down. The case has reportedly generated more than $200 million in legal fees. Go lawyers!]
[Edit: I just realised this quote has added significance on the day that the C7 Judgement was handed down. The case has reportedly generated more than $200 million in legal fees. Go lawyers!]
Thursday, July 26, 2007
A momentary diversion...
Wow! It’s been a while! There are so many things I could mention in this blog post:
I could mention the awesome Beautiful Girls concert I went to last week, but since there’s only this one dude who reads this blog - and I’m fairly sure he was at the concert - there’s little point.
I could pull a news story at random from The Australian’s web site and use it to illustrate how silly the Government and/or The Australian is. But that would be too easy, and I promised not to talk politics.
I could mention this game, but I think it’s just too addictive for you guys to handle.
I could talk about what a beautiful day it was yesterday, but when I start blogging about the weather I know it’s probably time to turn in my keyboard and join a hippy commune.
So instead of any of that I’m going to share with you the wonderful story of my first purchase over the Internet. Yes, tech savvy as I am, up until about a month ago I’d never actually bought anything online. This was mainly due to the lack of a payment facilitator, a deficiency which has now been resolved in the form of a Visa debit card.
Wanting to test out said card, I went post haste to the Achewood site, where I ordered all seven volumes of the Achewood comics in print. Transaction was effected through PayPal, and just a tip for all you non-Americans: don’t choose the ‘I want PayPal to rape me by way of their ridiculous exchange rate’ option. Choose the ‘I’ll take my credit card’s mystery rate’ option. Your card might still rape you, but at least there’s a sense of adventure about the process.
After I’d placed my order, the wait was an anxious one. Would my delivery reach Australia? Would it get through customs? Would Australia Post use it as a football in a game of parcel soccer (a sport I imagine they play in their warehouses)?
Then, on Monday, I got a note saying that the comics were waiting for me at the Post Office. Hooray! I retrieved them, took them home and read the first of the seven volumes straight away. Achewood is one of those series where the characters are really developed – it’s often hard to get the humour if you don’t have the back story. As an experiment, check out this comic, with the explanation that Lie Bot = George, and Philippe is basically a small cute child.
Achewood is gaining a lot of acceptance. One of the characters wrote an article recently for the Sydney Daily Telegraph (funny, funny shit), and they’ve been featured in Time magazine.
Graham Linehan, creator of Father Ted, Black Books and The IT Crowd, is also a big fan: "[n]ot satire, not parody... Achewood is my current favourite thing. My friends are divided between those who love it, and those who stare blankly at each last panel like a horse being presented with a banjo. Those latter friends are under review. Sometimes I look in their eyes and I feel I never really knew them."
So jump on the bandwagon. Read Achewood from the start. Your brain will love you.
I could mention the awesome Beautiful Girls concert I went to last week, but since there’s only this one dude who reads this blog - and I’m fairly sure he was at the concert - there’s little point.
I could pull a news story at random from The Australian’s web site and use it to illustrate how silly the Government and/or The Australian is. But that would be too easy, and I promised not to talk politics.
I could mention this game, but I think it’s just too addictive for you guys to handle.
I could talk about what a beautiful day it was yesterday, but when I start blogging about the weather I know it’s probably time to turn in my keyboard and join a hippy commune.
So instead of any of that I’m going to share with you the wonderful story of my first purchase over the Internet. Yes, tech savvy as I am, up until about a month ago I’d never actually bought anything online. This was mainly due to the lack of a payment facilitator, a deficiency which has now been resolved in the form of a Visa debit card.
Wanting to test out said card, I went post haste to the Achewood site, where I ordered all seven volumes of the Achewood comics in print. Transaction was effected through PayPal, and just a tip for all you non-Americans: don’t choose the ‘I want PayPal to rape me by way of their ridiculous exchange rate’ option. Choose the ‘I’ll take my credit card’s mystery rate’ option. Your card might still rape you, but at least there’s a sense of adventure about the process.
After I’d placed my order, the wait was an anxious one. Would my delivery reach Australia? Would it get through customs? Would Australia Post use it as a football in a game of parcel soccer (a sport I imagine they play in their warehouses)?
Then, on Monday, I got a note saying that the comics were waiting for me at the Post Office. Hooray! I retrieved them, took them home and read the first of the seven volumes straight away. Achewood is one of those series where the characters are really developed – it’s often hard to get the humour if you don’t have the back story. As an experiment, check out this comic, with the explanation that Lie Bot = George, and Philippe is basically a small cute child.
Achewood is gaining a lot of acceptance. One of the characters wrote an article recently for the Sydney Daily Telegraph (funny, funny shit), and they’ve been featured in Time magazine.
Graham Linehan, creator of Father Ted, Black Books and The IT Crowd, is also a big fan: "[n]ot satire, not parody... Achewood is my current favourite thing. My friends are divided between those who love it, and those who stare blankly at each last panel like a horse being presented with a banjo. Those latter friends are under review. Sometimes I look in their eyes and I feel I never really knew them."
So jump on the bandwagon. Read Achewood from the start. Your brain will love you.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Another productive day at the office
I work hard. Today I read the entire 142 page transcript of the first AFP interview with Mohamed Haneef (warning: 22MB pdf(!)). What does that have to do with my work, you may ask?
Actually, if you DID ask me that, I'd give you a punch on the nose. It has nothing to do with my work, but it was quite interesting. Some observations:
- Haneef really doesn't come across as a terrorist. If he is one, he's also an incredible actor. It seems his greatest crime is to be related to some dodgy second cousins before an Australian election.
- The AFP interviewer treated Haneef fairly and with respect. No waterboarding here.
- How did this get leaked? Who stands to benefit? I doubt it was the defence team, as implied by the Mick Keelty.
- Taking away his Visa so he remains locked up is a fucking joke. If Allah wills it, we'll only have to suffer another few months of this ridiculous government.
Sorry for getting a bit political on yo' asses. I promise my next post will involve silliness and frivolity and/or a link to a softcore porn video on youTube (hooray for Dizzy Banana!)
Actually, if you DID ask me that, I'd give you a punch on the nose. It has nothing to do with my work, but it was quite interesting. Some observations:
- Haneef really doesn't come across as a terrorist. If he is one, he's also an incredible actor. It seems his greatest crime is to be related to some dodgy second cousins before an Australian election.
- The AFP interviewer treated Haneef fairly and with respect. No waterboarding here.
- How did this get leaked? Who stands to benefit? I doubt it was the defence team, as implied by the Mick Keelty.
- Taking away his Visa so he remains locked up is a fucking joke. If Allah wills it, we'll only have to suffer another few months of this ridiculous government.
Sorry for getting a bit political on yo' asses. I promise my next post will involve silliness and frivolity and/or a link to a softcore porn video on youTube (hooray for Dizzy Banana!)
Monday, July 16, 2007
Har Har Har
This is pretty funny, for those of you who are into the whole Takeshi's Castle-type thing.
Why don't we have any TV shows like this in Australia?
Why don't we have any TV shows like this in Australia?
For Andrew
I decided you needed some extra practice in the finer points of Rock, Paper, Scissors, so I present to you this site - the World RPS Society.
Apparently, they've been "...Serving the needs of decision makers since 1918". No, really.
The site also makes mention of my Rock, Rock, Rock gambit, referring to it as the Avalanche gambit - "a relentless and devastating offensive maneuver, which requires bravado bordering on recklessness to execute".
No, really.
Apparently, they've been "...Serving the needs of decision makers since 1918". No, really.
The site also makes mention of my Rock, Rock, Rock gambit, referring to it as the Avalanche gambit - "a relentless and devastating offensive maneuver, which requires bravado bordering on recklessness to execute".
No, really.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
It's on, Donkey Kong!
I know you're all as excited as I am about the impending Rock Off. Here is the final line up of songs:
Chris:
Surrender - Medium
Less Talk More Rokk - Medium
Andrew:
War Pigs - Hard
Killing in the Name Of - Hard
...and of course Free Bird on medium to finish it all off and make sure we develop juvenile arthritis. Game on!
Chris:
Surrender - Medium
Less Talk More Rokk - Medium
Andrew:
War Pigs - Hard
Killing in the Name Of - Hard
...and of course Free Bird on medium to finish it all off and make sure we develop juvenile arthritis. Game on!
Friday, July 13, 2007
A Dilemma
Man, first blog post in ages... Where to begin...
Well, for starters, I'm a bit drunk... I also have a moral dilemma.... Just thought I'd let everyone in on that... Earlier today, I was quite ill, but a bottle of Canadian Club fixed that right up. Yep, a bottle. Technically, I shared it with a wisp of a girl, but she was very little (Hence, wisp), and so I poured her less and less as the evening went by. The logical flipside of that was that I poured myself more and more.
Given that I find her attractive, not necessarily the best solution in the world, but ah well...
So, I was driving home, from said girl's house, and I happened to take a bit of an odd route home (Flagstaff hill road, for the geographically inclined), and I happened to come across a roundabout. I stopped, as is the custom, and happened to notice a dog.
Or rather, the dog noticed me.
Namely, it attacked my car, several times. I beeped my horn at the dog, but this seemed only to encourage it, and flashing my head beams (it was attacking me head on) did the same. After a while, the dog got bored (I wasn't going to drive anywhere with the thing in front of me). It wandered off, and I decided to follow it, to make sure it went home. It got to the Hub Shopping Center (Home to the poor and infamous), and decided it was going to make its stand there, attacking my car again. I switched off the car, and the lights too, hoping to see if the dog gave up. This time, it didn't.
For one hour, I stayed at my car, waiting for the dog to leave, it kept on attacking the car. After the hour had passed, I switched on the car, and the dog retreated further inside the shopping center. I decided to hop out of the car, in the vain hope that I might simply be scared by it - it attacked me instead. I quickly got back in the car, and drove home.
My dilemma now is what to do. A normal person would just report this to the RSPCA. Those of you who know the story know that I have a checkered past with the RSPCA, at best. Nothing I want to go into on the bog, but I trust you all enough that, if you speak to me about it, I'll tell you the story. Anyway, they're not my greatest fans, and I feel the same about them. Nonetheless, someone needs to know about this dog, and they're the perfect people to help it (And punish the owner - no dog would be that violent without some massive abuse at home).
By dilemma, I don't mean dilemma exactly. I've already decided I need to call the RSCPA, and bear the consequences of my actions. I'm just searching for opinions on this... So, my question to the group is as follows:
If you were in my situation, and needed to report something, because it was the right thing to do, would you, knowing that you might somehow get in trouble as a result? Or would you leave the problem to sort itself out? Give reasons for your answer.
Until next time, adios!
Well, for starters, I'm a bit drunk... I also have a moral dilemma.... Just thought I'd let everyone in on that... Earlier today, I was quite ill, but a bottle of Canadian Club fixed that right up. Yep, a bottle. Technically, I shared it with a wisp of a girl, but she was very little (Hence, wisp), and so I poured her less and less as the evening went by. The logical flipside of that was that I poured myself more and more.
Given that I find her attractive, not necessarily the best solution in the world, but ah well...
So, I was driving home, from said girl's house, and I happened to take a bit of an odd route home (Flagstaff hill road, for the geographically inclined), and I happened to come across a roundabout. I stopped, as is the custom, and happened to notice a dog.
Or rather, the dog noticed me.
Namely, it attacked my car, several times. I beeped my horn at the dog, but this seemed only to encourage it, and flashing my head beams (it was attacking me head on) did the same. After a while, the dog got bored (I wasn't going to drive anywhere with the thing in front of me). It wandered off, and I decided to follow it, to make sure it went home. It got to the Hub Shopping Center (Home to the poor and infamous), and decided it was going to make its stand there, attacking my car again. I switched off the car, and the lights too, hoping to see if the dog gave up. This time, it didn't.
For one hour, I stayed at my car, waiting for the dog to leave, it kept on attacking the car. After the hour had passed, I switched on the car, and the dog retreated further inside the shopping center. I decided to hop out of the car, in the vain hope that I might simply be scared by it - it attacked me instead. I quickly got back in the car, and drove home.
My dilemma now is what to do. A normal person would just report this to the RSPCA. Those of you who know the story know that I have a checkered past with the RSPCA, at best. Nothing I want to go into on the bog, but I trust you all enough that, if you speak to me about it, I'll tell you the story. Anyway, they're not my greatest fans, and I feel the same about them. Nonetheless, someone needs to know about this dog, and they're the perfect people to help it (And punish the owner - no dog would be that violent without some massive abuse at home).
By dilemma, I don't mean dilemma exactly. I've already decided I need to call the RSCPA, and bear the consequences of my actions. I'm just searching for opinions on this... So, my question to the group is as follows:
If you were in my situation, and needed to report something, because it was the right thing to do, would you, knowing that you might somehow get in trouble as a result? Or would you leave the problem to sort itself out? Give reasons for your answer.
Until next time, adios!
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Holy Cow, Batman!
Did anyone else just watch The Great Climate Change Swindle and subsequent debate? It was certainly an interesting night's viewing. I didn't think you could pack a studio audience with such a high concentration of flat-out whackos. Presenter Tony Jones looked seriously embarassed as he searched for someone - anyone! - that wouldn't say something off the planet.
For example, we learned that, much like the transformers, environmentalists are more than meets the eye. Apparently environmentalism is a cover for nazi eugenicists. This was a view seperately advanced by three different audience members. There were some left wing hippie nut jobs saying some pretty random things, too.
Still, at the end of the day, I think the climate change supporters came out looking like the more reasonable people. The real winner was the coal industry lobbyist, who said exactly the right things. She should get a big raise and a big energy-inefficient mansion.
Hopefully the entire program, or at least the debate (which was more interesting than the silly doco) will be up on the ABC web site soon. If it is, I'll post a link to it here. It's well worth a look. Even Kate stayed up for it!
For example, we learned that, much like the transformers, environmentalists are more than meets the eye. Apparently environmentalism is a cover for nazi eugenicists. This was a view seperately advanced by three different audience members. There were some left wing hippie nut jobs saying some pretty random things, too.
Still, at the end of the day, I think the climate change supporters came out looking like the more reasonable people. The real winner was the coal industry lobbyist, who said exactly the right things. She should get a big raise and a big energy-inefficient mansion.
Hopefully the entire program, or at least the debate (which was more interesting than the silly doco) will be up on the ABC web site soon. If it is, I'll post a link to it here. It's well worth a look. Even Kate stayed up for it!
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Mmm... nachos
It was cold last night in Adelaide. It was so cold that when I got home from work I couldn't face the prospect of braving the elements again to secure some dinner. So I did the unthinkable: I tried to prepare a meal.
Unfortunately, it's been a while since I've been shopping and I was forced to work with only the ingredients I could pry from the darkest recesses of the pantry and the fridge. Having seen a fantastic episode of Iron Chef on the weekend, I dubbed my struggle to prepare an edible meal the 'share house empty fridge battle'. I knew I'd be racing against the clock. Soon enough my own laziness would get the better of me and I'd give up, settle down on the couch in front of the Simpsons and consume a packet of uncooked two-minute noodles.
Given the conditions, I'm reasonably proud of the result. I name this dish 'Nachos Improvisar'. You too can cook it if, one night alone, you find yourself missing a range of ingredients.
You need:
- 3/4 packet Doritos Nacho Cheese (open packet several weeks in advance for appropriate level of staleness)
- Chunk of gourmet red wine & garlic metwurst, expiry date unknown
- A sizeable portion of your flatmate's expensive fetta cheese
- 1/3 Jar of salsa. (whose is it? when was it opened? will it give me a horrible disease if I eat it?)
- American mustard to taste
Method:
Get a fairly large bowl. A clean one if available. Sprinkle a layer of corn chips into the bowl. Cut metwurst and fetta into cubes. Sprinkle some metwurst, fetta, salsa and mustard over the corn chips. Add more layers and repeat. I've always felt the secret to a good nachos is multiple layers. You don't want to enjoy the top half of your meal only to discover a bleak desert of chips waiting for you at the bottom with no accompanying topping. You should have left some topping to go with the chips at the bottom. But you didn't, did you? And now your whole evening is ruined.
Anyway, once layering is done, place bowl into microwave and heat until hot. Serve with that one bottle of Toohey's Old that's still in your fridge after your last party.
Needless to say, any variation on the above ingredients will improve the result. Plain corn chips would be better than cheese flavoured ones. Normal grated cheese beats the pants off fetta in this context. Metwurst- ...well, you get the idea.
The result:
The tasting:
It's certainly not the worst thing I've ever eaten, or even the worst thing I've ever cooked. True, the fetta clashes with the sweetness of the salsa. There's something just a little bit wrong about having metwurst in a dish like this. And in retrospect, adding mustard was just a mistake. But I ended my meal feeling happy, both because I was full and because I felt as though, in spite of the odds, I had used my own resourcefulness to triumph over nature.
Unfortunately, it's been a while since I've been shopping and I was forced to work with only the ingredients I could pry from the darkest recesses of the pantry and the fridge. Having seen a fantastic episode of Iron Chef on the weekend, I dubbed my struggle to prepare an edible meal the 'share house empty fridge battle'. I knew I'd be racing against the clock. Soon enough my own laziness would get the better of me and I'd give up, settle down on the couch in front of the Simpsons and consume a packet of uncooked two-minute noodles.
Given the conditions, I'm reasonably proud of the result. I name this dish 'Nachos Improvisar'. You too can cook it if, one night alone, you find yourself missing a range of ingredients.
You need:
- 3/4 packet Doritos Nacho Cheese (open packet several weeks in advance for appropriate level of staleness)
- Chunk of gourmet red wine & garlic metwurst, expiry date unknown
- A sizeable portion of your flatmate's expensive fetta cheese
- 1/3 Jar of salsa. (whose is it? when was it opened? will it give me a horrible disease if I eat it?)
- American mustard to taste
Method:
Get a fairly large bowl. A clean one if available. Sprinkle a layer of corn chips into the bowl. Cut metwurst and fetta into cubes. Sprinkle some metwurst, fetta, salsa and mustard over the corn chips. Add more layers and repeat. I've always felt the secret to a good nachos is multiple layers. You don't want to enjoy the top half of your meal only to discover a bleak desert of chips waiting for you at the bottom with no accompanying topping. You should have left some topping to go with the chips at the bottom. But you didn't, did you? And now your whole evening is ruined.
Anyway, once layering is done, place bowl into microwave and heat until hot. Serve with that one bottle of Toohey's Old that's still in your fridge after your last party.
Needless to say, any variation on the above ingredients will improve the result. Plain corn chips would be better than cheese flavoured ones. Normal grated cheese beats the pants off fetta in this context. Metwurst- ...well, you get the idea.
The result:
The tasting:
It's certainly not the worst thing I've ever eaten, or even the worst thing I've ever cooked. True, the fetta clashes with the sweetness of the salsa. There's something just a little bit wrong about having metwurst in a dish like this. And in retrospect, adding mustard was just a mistake. But I ended my meal feeling happy, both because I was full and because I felt as though, in spite of the odds, I had used my own resourcefulness to triumph over nature.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Mixed Bizniss
I've been cooped up in my room like the timid introvert I am recently, and it's the fault of two fascinating diversions. I've created a 2007 edition of the famous Andrew Roff Best Songs Ever compilation, and it's pure listening ambrosia. (aside: I tried to export the tracklist, but iTunes will only spit it out as a poorly formatted .txt file or a poorly formatted .xml file. I need a stylesheet to get it on to a web page).
The other demand on my time is a new mod I downloaded for Civilization IV. It's called the 'Realism mod' and it's meant to give players a more accurate simulation of combat, diplomacy and technology advancement.
So far it's been fun if a little anachronistic - in 400BC, playing as the Chinese, I used my generals Adolf Hitler and Saddam Hussein to invade Japan. That's realism for you in this post-modern world, I guess.
In other news, I got the reading list for my elective uni topic 'Law and Literature' yesterday. It seems we'll be spending a couple of lessons discussing Isaac Asimov's I, Robot stories. That is so wicked. We're studying a lot of other cool stuff too, and other law students have said the topic's basically run like a book club. I already know what I'm going to do my assignment on: Arthur Miller's play The Crucible.
Guitar Hero News
Seems I got some dates mixed up in the rules I posted a while back. Song selections have to be in by Sunday 15 July, and the contest will be on Saturday 28 July (I'd said Saturday 29 July, which is just wrong). I've made the appropriate changes to the rules.
I was feeling confident about my chances, but my Playstation's broken and I won't get it back until next Monday at the earliest. So Chris has a golden opportunity to get a headstart on me. Song selections should be interesting...
The other demand on my time is a new mod I downloaded for Civilization IV. It's called the 'Realism mod' and it's meant to give players a more accurate simulation of combat, diplomacy and technology advancement.
So far it's been fun if a little anachronistic - in 400BC, playing as the Chinese, I used my generals Adolf Hitler and Saddam Hussein to invade Japan. That's realism for you in this post-modern world, I guess.
In other news, I got the reading list for my elective uni topic 'Law and Literature' yesterday. It seems we'll be spending a couple of lessons discussing Isaac Asimov's I, Robot stories. That is so wicked. We're studying a lot of other cool stuff too, and other law students have said the topic's basically run like a book club. I already know what I'm going to do my assignment on: Arthur Miller's play The Crucible.
Guitar Hero News
Seems I got some dates mixed up in the rules I posted a while back. Song selections have to be in by Sunday 15 July, and the contest will be on Saturday 28 July (I'd said Saturday 29 July, which is just wrong). I've made the appropriate changes to the rules.
I was feeling confident about my chances, but my Playstation's broken and I won't get it back until next Monday at the earliest. So Chris has a golden opportunity to get a headstart on me. Song selections should be interesting...
Saturday, July 7, 2007
I did this thing, so now you have to, too.
So I got an email from one of my cousins inviting me to create a Facebook profile. You may have heard of this site before. It's the usual social networking thang - think of it as a cooler, less ugly version of MySpace. It's good 'cause you can upload all your photos and people can look at them (I am aware of no other site that lets you do that.)
Anyway, I had a spare 5 minutes so I created a profile. Upon reviewing it, I found out the terrible news that I only had one friend (two if Kevin Rudd responds to my invitation to be friends). This is not ideal. So now you guys have to create facebook profiles so we can all be friendly. It's easy and fun.
Go here. Do it now.
Anyway, I had a spare 5 minutes so I created a profile. Upon reviewing it, I found out the terrible news that I only had one friend (two if Kevin Rudd responds to my invitation to be friends). This is not ideal. So now you guys have to create facebook profiles so we can all be friendly. It's easy and fun.
Go here. Do it now.
Friday, July 6, 2007
I know I've said this before
But who said my Archaeology degree would lead to nothing. Today I got a phone call saying my job application for salvage archaeology work had been accepted and would I please like to start work as a sub-contractor early in August. So off to NSW I shall trot to excavate an old township first settled in the 1830's and abandoned in the 1860's, which shall soon be consumed by development work being done to the Hume Highway.
Not to fret though at this stage I'll only be gone for 4-6weeks depending on the weather.
Not to fret though at this stage I'll only be gone for 4-6weeks depending on the weather.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Here's a thing
I've talked about the idea of nerdatious synergy before, but this really takes it to a whole new level. I like guitar hero, and in my weaker moments I like the Power Rangers, but would I ever let these worlds collide thus?
I'd like to think not.
I'd like to think not.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
I am a man
You probably know that already, but my manliness was reinforced today when I fixed my car all by myself. It wasn't easy, I can tell you, but being a man never is.
Now I'm gonna go drink a beer, make love to a woman and... do the vaccuuming. Thanks Kate and Laine. Thanks new chore roster.
Now I'm gonna go drink a beer, make love to a woman and... do the vaccuuming. Thanks Kate and Laine. Thanks new chore roster.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
One snowball to rule them all...
Hobart is FUCKING COLD.
See:
Thankfully we've now finished up the work we've been doing, so tonight we're off to our boss's wedding, then home on Monday night. We then get barely enough time to unpack and do our washing as we head up to Sydney on Thursday, but more on that later.
See:
Thankfully we've now finished up the work we've been doing, so tonight we're off to our boss's wedding, then home on Monday night. We then get barely enough time to unpack and do our washing as we head up to Sydney on Thursday, but more on that later.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Little Victories
The comments section of The Australian online edition is usually a lonely place for a left-leaning atheist to hang out. The paper is the home of some of the most extreme right wing commentators in the nation (cough cough, Albrechtsen), and recently the paper as a whole has been even more pro-God and pro-WorkChoices than usual.
So it was with great pleasure that I scanned the comments to this article earlier today as I strove valiantly to avoid doing any real work. The piece is a soft-news run down of the religious trends captured by the most recent census. It shows that the proportion of atheists is growing in Australia.
The author is careful not to say explicitly whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. But he does ascribe the increase to the fact that kids these days have it too easy. He suggests that because we’ve never lived through a depression or a war, we don’t think about abstract concepts like life and death. The implications are twofold:
- Back in the author’s day, young people were less shallow
- If you think about death, spirituality and religion long and hard enough, you will necessarily reach the conclusion that God (or a God alternative) exists. Atheism is caused by a lack of thought.
He concludes with the line:
Okay, good on you. Nothing really shocking about this tripe appearing in The Australian. What surprised me, though, were the comments. Usually these stories bring out people from all ends of the political spectrum to add their (poorly spelled) two cents. But in the comments for this article, the atheists [and here you have to imagine I am a large African-American woman] represented!
At the time of writing, the first page of comments was full of people saying that the growth in atheism was a good - or at least indifferent - thing. Usually you would expect there to be two ‘Jesus said atheyists wil burn in the fires of hell’ posts for every ‘God is suxor ps he doesnt exzist’. But not this time. This time, the atheists laid the smack down.
Our side gets so few victories these days, I think it’s important to savour them.
So it was with great pleasure that I scanned the comments to this article earlier today as I strove valiantly to avoid doing any real work. The piece is a soft-news run down of the religious trends captured by the most recent census. It shows that the proportion of atheists is growing in Australia.
The author is careful not to say explicitly whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. But he does ascribe the increase to the fact that kids these days have it too easy. He suggests that because we’ve never lived through a depression or a war, we don’t think about abstract concepts like life and death. The implications are twofold:
- Back in the author’s day, young people were less shallow
- If you think about death, spirituality and religion long and hard enough, you will necessarily reach the conclusion that God (or a God alternative) exists. Atheism is caused by a lack of thought.
He concludes with the line:
‘Perhaps believing baby boomer parents should remove the plasma television from the family home; this would simulate hell-on-earth for stay-at-home [generation] Ys that might just prompt them to think about life’s bigger issues.’
Okay, good on you. Nothing really shocking about this tripe appearing in The Australian. What surprised me, though, were the comments. Usually these stories bring out people from all ends of the political spectrum to add their (poorly spelled) two cents. But in the comments for this article, the atheists [and here you have to imagine I am a large African-American woman] represented!
At the time of writing, the first page of comments was full of people saying that the growth in atheism was a good - or at least indifferent - thing. Usually you would expect there to be two ‘Jesus said atheyists wil burn in the fires of hell’ posts for every ‘God is suxor ps he doesnt exzist’. But not this time. This time, the atheists laid the smack down.
Our side gets so few victories these days, I think it’s important to savour them.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Rock Off Draft Rules
Preliminary matters
1. The inaugural Guitar Hero contest (hereinafter “the Rock Off”) shall take place on Saturday 28 July 2007 at a time and venue to be determined, being mutually convenient for all parties concerned. The contestants will be Chris Lowe and Andrew Roff (hereinafter “the Contestants”).
2. The contest shall be adjudicated by David Nelson (hereinafter “the Judge”). Any disputes arising in the course of the Rock Off that cannot be resolved by reference to the rules shall be determined by the Judge. The Judge’s interpretation of the rules is final.
Song Selection
3. By 6:00 pm Sunday 15 July 2007 the Contestants shall each publish two songs that they wish to be included in the Rock Off, along with the difficulty level the songs are to be played at. Contestants may choose any two songs contained in the game, including bonus tracks, on any difficulty level, but the two songs must be different, and neither song shall be Free Bird.
3(1). Publication for the purposes of the Rock Off shall constitute posting of the songs on The Salmon Conversations website (URL: http://www.salmonchat.blogspot.com). Publication will also be deemed to have taken place if a Contestant conveys the required information to Andrew Roff via email or short message service text message by 4:00 pm Sunday 15 July.
3(2). If a Contestant does not make publication of his song selections by the relevant date and time, the Contestant shall forfeit his right to choose songs for the Rock Off. That Contestant’s songs will be selected by the Judge, without consideration of any advantage that might be given to either Contestant from a particular song selection. If the Judge is required to make selections under this section, he must do so by 6:00pm Wednesday 18 July.
3(3): If Contestants choose the same song at the same difficulty level, there shall in the first instance be an opportunity for either Contestant to amend their selection within one (1) day. If, after this period has elapsed, publication of an amended song has not taken place, that song will be included once in the order of proceedings as Contestant one’s song (see section 4 below). Contestant two’s song shall be selected by the Judge in the manner described in section 3(2). Other song selections shall not be affected. This section does not apply in instances where Contestants choose the same song at different difficulty levels.
Order of Play
4. The order of proceedings for the Rock Off shall be as follows:
- Contestant one, song one
- Contestant two, song one
- 10 Minute Break
- Contestant one, song two
- Contestant two, song two
- 10 Minute Break
- Free Bird, Difficulty Level Medium
4(1). Determination of which Contestant is Contestant one and which Contestant is Contestant two shall be by ‘best of one’ game of rock, paper, scissors. The Judge shall decide the victor of this game in the event of a dispute. The victor shall be Contestant one for the purposes of the Rock Off.
4(2). Both Contestants shall play each song. The Contestant who chose the song will play the song first, followed by the other Contestant. For example, Contestant one, song one shall be played first by Contestant one, then by Contestant two
4(3). Free Bird shall be played first by Contestant one.
Scoring
5. Once each player has completed each song, the score the player achieved for that song shall be recorded by the Judge. ‘Score’ in this context refers to the number of points gained by the contestant, and not by the star rating achieved.
5(1). If a Contestant skips past the screen displaying their score before the score can be recorded by the Judge, the contestant will receive zero (0) points for that song.
5(2). If a Contestant fails a song (that is, if the song is halted before the end due to the large number of notes missed by the Contestant) the Contestant will receive zero (0) points for that song.
5(3). The winner of the Rock Off shall be determined by adding the scores of each player for the five rounds of the contest. The player with the highest aggregate score shall be the winner. The Judge will perform the necessary calculations. The Judge’s decision is final.
Miscellaneous
6. Spectators are permitted to observe the contest. Spectators must remain silent during performance of songs, or the Judge shall be entitled to insist that offending spectators leave the venue.
7. Following the Rock Off there shall be a party. The loser of the contest (that is, the contestant not declared the winner by the judge) shall provide a bottle of Jagermeister and a commensurate quantity of Red Bull for the enjoyment of guests.
The interesting people you meet at the Chinatown Food Court
So at lunch time today I had a craving for inferior laksa (the good stuff being unavailable at the moment due to “the family problem”), so I went to the inferior food court at Chinatown. It was pretty busy, and there were no unoccupied tables. So I did a scan to see which seat in the food court would allow me to sit furthest away from any other patron. That sounds bad, but think about it for a while and you’ll realise that you do the same in this situation.
The best I could do was a seat two seats down from a reasonably normal looking woman. As I approached, balancing my laksa in the beautiful perilous dance of man and foodstuff, the woman glanced up from her beverage and asked me if I needed a hand.
This is where I should have flung my food tray at her and fled the scene. But at the time, I thought she was just being considerate. So I smiled, said something along the lines of ‘thanks but no thanks’ and took my destined seat two seats down from her.
She seemed to ignore me as I picked up my spoon and plunged it beneath the surface of the spicy yellow liquid. Then, at the very moment before arrival in flavour country, she turned to me and said ‘sorry, it’s just that when you live with a family member who’s suffered from burns, you tend to be a bit jumpy around soup.’
Okay, fair enough. Fine. ‘Yeah’ I reply, in a friendly but non-committal way, my spoon poised halfway between the bowl and my mouth.
‘Oh!’ she says. ‘You’ve got a family member who’s been burned too, do you?’
‘No. But I agree, soups can be mighty perilous.’
‘My daughter got burned from some hot water. On her upper thigh [crazy woman’s emphasis, not mine]. We tried running some cold water on it, but boiling water seeps in under the skin. It wouldn’t heal. They had to take a skin graft from some skin on her back, and…’
I won’t recount the entire speech here. She went on for quite a while, and I threw in a ‘yep’ every now and then. By the end I tried to use the tone of my yeps to indicate I’d prefer the conversation to end. I still hadn’t tasted sweet laksa. It seems to me a little insensitive to eat something aromatic and delicious while a woman tells you about her burnt daughter.
Anyway, by this point I hadn’t decided that the woman was crazy, but perhaps just lonely and sad. Still, her daughter’s condition rapidly worsened as she went on, and in addition to her skin graft she was now mentally disabled and ‘dying’ (no elaboration on this last was forthcoming).
Finally she ran out of steam. I took my chance to start tucking in to my laksa. But my enjoyment was to be short lived. ‘What do you do?’ she asked.
I replied that I was a student doing work experience at a law firm. ‘Oh’ she said. ‘Oh. Lawyers. There’s a lot of 666ers and Freemasons in that line of work.’
In one sense, I was relieved, because now I could neatly plonk this woman into the crazy person category. Having worked out where she fit in the grand scheme of things, I could eat my soup and chat without worry.
‘I must say I haven’t heard of any lawyers into that sort of stuff’ said I. [as an aside, does anyone know what a ‘666er’ is? Being a lawyer, I might be one and not even know it].
‘Oh yeah, they’re everywhere, especially in the Family Court.’
‘Really? I don’t have much to do with the Family Court, so I guess you could be right.’
‘Heaps of them, there are. They’re going to get a big shock when they’re in front of the Lord Jesus!’ She laughed at this, so, being the polite young man that I am, I did too.
She continued her rant: ‘I had a lawyer friend once. He said he didn’t believe in God. I said that it’s easy not to believe in something when you can’t see it, but it’ll be very hard not to believe when you’re standing in front of Him! After he heard this my friend repented and quit his job as a lawyer.’
My laksa was growing cold, and although this lady was interesting, I didn’t want her to start quoting Bible passages at me. I also realised that this was a golden opportunity that might not come again. I turned to her and said ‘hold out your hand.’
She did, but asked ‘why?’
I replied ‘I want to draw a pentagram on it.’
She was out of that food court in a flash. And so it was that I contributed to the widely held view that lawyers are the servants of the devil.
The best I could do was a seat two seats down from a reasonably normal looking woman. As I approached, balancing my laksa in the beautiful perilous dance of man and foodstuff, the woman glanced up from her beverage and asked me if I needed a hand.
This is where I should have flung my food tray at her and fled the scene. But at the time, I thought she was just being considerate. So I smiled, said something along the lines of ‘thanks but no thanks’ and took my destined seat two seats down from her.
She seemed to ignore me as I picked up my spoon and plunged it beneath the surface of the spicy yellow liquid. Then, at the very moment before arrival in flavour country, she turned to me and said ‘sorry, it’s just that when you live with a family member who’s suffered from burns, you tend to be a bit jumpy around soup.’
Okay, fair enough. Fine. ‘Yeah’ I reply, in a friendly but non-committal way, my spoon poised halfway between the bowl and my mouth.
‘Oh!’ she says. ‘You’ve got a family member who’s been burned too, do you?’
‘No. But I agree, soups can be mighty perilous.’
‘My daughter got burned from some hot water. On her upper thigh [crazy woman’s emphasis, not mine]. We tried running some cold water on it, but boiling water seeps in under the skin. It wouldn’t heal. They had to take a skin graft from some skin on her back, and…’
I won’t recount the entire speech here. She went on for quite a while, and I threw in a ‘yep’ every now and then. By the end I tried to use the tone of my yeps to indicate I’d prefer the conversation to end. I still hadn’t tasted sweet laksa. It seems to me a little insensitive to eat something aromatic and delicious while a woman tells you about her burnt daughter.
Anyway, by this point I hadn’t decided that the woman was crazy, but perhaps just lonely and sad. Still, her daughter’s condition rapidly worsened as she went on, and in addition to her skin graft she was now mentally disabled and ‘dying’ (no elaboration on this last was forthcoming).
Finally she ran out of steam. I took my chance to start tucking in to my laksa. But my enjoyment was to be short lived. ‘What do you do?’ she asked.
I replied that I was a student doing work experience at a law firm. ‘Oh’ she said. ‘Oh. Lawyers. There’s a lot of 666ers and Freemasons in that line of work.’
In one sense, I was relieved, because now I could neatly plonk this woman into the crazy person category. Having worked out where she fit in the grand scheme of things, I could eat my soup and chat without worry.
‘I must say I haven’t heard of any lawyers into that sort of stuff’ said I. [as an aside, does anyone know what a ‘666er’ is? Being a lawyer, I might be one and not even know it].
‘Oh yeah, they’re everywhere, especially in the Family Court.’
‘Really? I don’t have much to do with the Family Court, so I guess you could be right.’
‘Heaps of them, there are. They’re going to get a big shock when they’re in front of the Lord Jesus!’ She laughed at this, so, being the polite young man that I am, I did too.
She continued her rant: ‘I had a lawyer friend once. He said he didn’t believe in God. I said that it’s easy not to believe in something when you can’t see it, but it’ll be very hard not to believe when you’re standing in front of Him! After he heard this my friend repented and quit his job as a lawyer.’
My laksa was growing cold, and although this lady was interesting, I didn’t want her to start quoting Bible passages at me. I also realised that this was a golden opportunity that might not come again. I turned to her and said ‘hold out your hand.’
She did, but asked ‘why?’
I replied ‘I want to draw a pentagram on it.’
She was out of that food court in a flash. And so it was that I contributed to the widely held view that lawyers are the servants of the devil.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Hey kids!
Greetings from occasionally-sunny-but-still-bloody-cold-all-the-time Hobart!
Yes, Imogen and I have returned southwards to the state shaped like a woman's pubic hair (don't blame me, it's on t-shirts here; they have a strange sense of state pride) to work for three weeks.
If you hadn't guessed, Hobart in winter is bloody cold. We arrived on Tuesday morning (we came via the ferry so we could bring the car over) and go to enjoy the leisurely drive from Devenport in the north allllll the way down to Hobart in the south. Three hours of watching a frost-encrusted landscape caused us to a) reminisce about Europe (it really can feel like you're there) and b) crank the car heater. Things haven't been quite so cold as that morning since, but I wouldn't be surprised if the car turned into a block of ice one morning. *shudder*
That said, apparently there's been a bit of snow up on Mt Wellington, so we may head up one morning to muck about.
Congrats must go to Messr. Roff for not only his law internship, but the discovery of his unhitherto-known super-skill of photocopying. Andy, be assured, if I ever get to write a thesis, I know who I'll be getting to make copies for me!
Today we visited the Cascade Brewery for it's 'Family Open Day', where beer, juice and a bouncy castle were all highlighted events. Today we only got some juice (we only were there for a short while, and I had to drive) but when we return on Thursday we'll no doubt snag some beer. Thursday also promises a Cadbury factory tour, so I now dub Thursday 'Beer-and-Chocolate-day' - I'm sure you can all join in on the mainland.
Glad to see that you all had much fun down at Victor (and it's so cute watching the boys trying to chop wood!), and was that Guitar Hero you were playing? If so, damn. Im and I both hope that we'll all be visiting there again come either September, December or anytime next year.
What else is up? Not much. My compy in Melbourne died (bastard!), so most of my pay from these three weeks will be going towards a new system (and yes George, I will be getting the Intel 6600, so don't worry). One little bonus to come out of my compy dying, however, is that Im's mum gave us a Mac Mini to keep - pretty nifty! It's going to become my little music-making-machine. :o)
Anyway, time is limited, and we have to get back to watching Spooks - it's really, bloody, fantastically good. I'd advise you lot to have a look sometime. *nods* We've also been watching the live-action version of The Tick and Press Gang. Don't judge us; we know where you live.
Hope you're all well and keeping warm.
Love Jules (and Im)
Yes, Imogen and I have returned southwards to the state shaped like a woman's pubic hair (don't blame me, it's on t-shirts here; they have a strange sense of state pride) to work for three weeks.
If you hadn't guessed, Hobart in winter is bloody cold. We arrived on Tuesday morning (we came via the ferry so we could bring the car over) and go to enjoy the leisurely drive from Devenport in the north allllll the way down to Hobart in the south. Three hours of watching a frost-encrusted landscape caused us to a) reminisce about Europe (it really can feel like you're there) and b) crank the car heater. Things haven't been quite so cold as that morning since, but I wouldn't be surprised if the car turned into a block of ice one morning. *shudder*
That said, apparently there's been a bit of snow up on Mt Wellington, so we may head up one morning to muck about.
Congrats must go to Messr. Roff for not only his law internship, but the discovery of his unhitherto-known super-skill of photocopying. Andy, be assured, if I ever get to write a thesis, I know who I'll be getting to make copies for me!
Today we visited the Cascade Brewery for it's 'Family Open Day', where beer, juice and a bouncy castle were all highlighted events. Today we only got some juice (we only were there for a short while, and I had to drive) but when we return on Thursday we'll no doubt snag some beer. Thursday also promises a Cadbury factory tour, so I now dub Thursday 'Beer-and-Chocolate-day' - I'm sure you can all join in on the mainland.
Glad to see that you all had much fun down at Victor (and it's so cute watching the boys trying to chop wood!), and was that Guitar Hero you were playing? If so, damn. Im and I both hope that we'll all be visiting there again come either September, December or anytime next year.
What else is up? Not much. My compy in Melbourne died (bastard!), so most of my pay from these three weeks will be going towards a new system (and yes George, I will be getting the Intel 6600, so don't worry). One little bonus to come out of my compy dying, however, is that Im's mum gave us a Mac Mini to keep - pretty nifty! It's going to become my little music-making-machine. :o)
Anyway, time is limited, and we have to get back to watching Spooks - it's really, bloody, fantastically good. I'd advise you lot to have a look sometime. *nods* We've also been watching the live-action version of The Tick and Press Gang. Don't judge us; we know where you live.
Hope you're all well and keeping warm.
Love Jules (and Im)
Monday, June 11, 2007
Friday, June 8, 2007
Accolades
I have had bestowed on me the highest compliment a legal clerk can obtain. This morning, after a lightning fast trip to the Supreme Court library, I was dubbed a ‘good photocopier’!
Photocopying is a vital skill for any aspiring lawyer. Even if you’re crap at legal research, even if you can’t argue your way out of a paper bag, if you’re a good photocopier you’ll be okay. People will like you because they can get you to do photocopying. And, let’s face it, no one likes to do photocopying.
The downside to being a good photocopier is that word of my prowess will soon spread. In my four weeks here I’ve only had to photocopy one article and one case, but now that everyone knows I am available and competent re photocopying duties, I may be in hot demand.
Who said a career in the law wasn’t glamourous?
Photocopying is a vital skill for any aspiring lawyer. Even if you’re crap at legal research, even if you can’t argue your way out of a paper bag, if you’re a good photocopier you’ll be okay. People will like you because they can get you to do photocopying. And, let’s face it, no one likes to do photocopying.
The downside to being a good photocopier is that word of my prowess will soon spread. In my four weeks here I’ve only had to photocopy one article and one case, but now that everyone knows I am available and competent re photocopying duties, I may be in hot demand.
Who said a career in the law wasn’t glamourous?
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Competence, baby
Have you ever met someone that was so competent they were sexy? This sounds kind of ridiculous at first, but I reckon that if you give it some thought, the answer might be yes.
At lunch time today I went to pick up some contact lenses from my optometrist. The receptionist there is a perfect example of this phenomenon. Now, I’ll admit, it doesn’t hurt that she’s actually also quite physically attractive. But really, there are plenty of good looking people out there with whom I can keep my lust at a controllable level. When I talk to this receptionist, I just want to vault over the counter and get busy amongst the Medicare forms.
Today, I walked in and she said ‘Hi Andrew! You’re here to pick up your contact lenses, right?’. I should explain that it’s been three months since I was last in the store, and six months since I’d seen this girl. She wouldn’t have known me from a bar of soap, but she knew who had orders waiting for collection, and she’d obviously read enough of my details to know I was a 23 year old male. She had done enough preparation and was intelligent enough to put two and two together. She picked up my contacts from where they were waiting in a neat pile with a bunch of others, and chatted with me as she processed my payment.
This description doesn’t fully capture the aura of professionalism this girl was displaying. It’s just something you can tell about a person when they have complete confidence in their ability to do their job well; and when they know that you know it too. Add to that a cheerful but efficient manner, and that, people, is someone who’s so competent they’re sexy.
Now if you agree with me that competence can indeed be sexy, this raises some interesting implications. You might be tempted to think that as a result, intelligent people should have an inherent advantage in appealing to the opposite sex. Well, clearly that ain’t always necessarily so. For a start, if they’re operating outside their field of expertise, they’ve got no advantage whatsoever. It also generally only has an effect when you’re providing a service for someone else. That basically limits it to a work context. A possible exception is, say, if you cooked a really awesome meal at your house for a dinner guest, but in the main, it’s a job thing.
Even at work, even when providing a service face to face, directly to another human being, the ‘sexiness of competence’ may not be working for you. As an obvious example, consider the much-maligned hypothetical IT Professional. He (for it is almost always a he [sorry Kate]) is certainly intelligent. For the sake of the argument, let’s also assume that he is in fact quite good at his job. Does he reap the benefits of the sexiness of competence? Almost certainly not. Here are some possible reasons why:
But perhaps the biggest limiting factor to the power of sexy competence is that, for most people, when they’re at their most competent, they’re at work. And at work, many people are not in a position to be making moves on their customers.
Sorry IT guys, it looks like you need that gym membership after all.
At lunch time today I went to pick up some contact lenses from my optometrist. The receptionist there is a perfect example of this phenomenon. Now, I’ll admit, it doesn’t hurt that she’s actually also quite physically attractive. But really, there are plenty of good looking people out there with whom I can keep my lust at a controllable level. When I talk to this receptionist, I just want to vault over the counter and get busy amongst the Medicare forms.
Today, I walked in and she said ‘Hi Andrew! You’re here to pick up your contact lenses, right?’. I should explain that it’s been three months since I was last in the store, and six months since I’d seen this girl. She wouldn’t have known me from a bar of soap, but she knew who had orders waiting for collection, and she’d obviously read enough of my details to know I was a 23 year old male. She had done enough preparation and was intelligent enough to put two and two together. She picked up my contacts from where they were waiting in a neat pile with a bunch of others, and chatted with me as she processed my payment.
This description doesn’t fully capture the aura of professionalism this girl was displaying. It’s just something you can tell about a person when they have complete confidence in their ability to do their job well; and when they know that you know it too. Add to that a cheerful but efficient manner, and that, people, is someone who’s so competent they’re sexy.
Now if you agree with me that competence can indeed be sexy, this raises some interesting implications. You might be tempted to think that as a result, intelligent people should have an inherent advantage in appealing to the opposite sex. Well, clearly that ain’t always necessarily so. For a start, if they’re operating outside their field of expertise, they’ve got no advantage whatsoever. It also generally only has an effect when you’re providing a service for someone else. That basically limits it to a work context. A possible exception is, say, if you cooked a really awesome meal at your house for a dinner guest, but in the main, it’s a job thing.
Even at work, even when providing a service face to face, directly to another human being, the ‘sexiness of competence’ may not be working for you. As an obvious example, consider the much-maligned hypothetical IT Professional. He (for it is almost always a he [sorry Kate]) is certainly intelligent. For the sake of the argument, let’s also assume that he is in fact quite good at his job. Does he reap the benefits of the sexiness of competence? Almost certainly not. Here are some possible reasons why:
- He is surly and arrogant. Remember, the sexiness of competence relies on a cheerful but efficient manner.
- While he’s good at his job, the person he’s helping is in no position to appreciate this. A lay person has trouble differentiating good IT service from bad IT service, largely because the person he’s serving is probably incapable of understanding what it is the IT person is doing. This is exacerbated by the fact that IT guys generally are bad communicators, and can’t be arsed explaining what it is they’re doing.
- When I pick up my contact lenses, the resolution is quick, and the outcome is exactly what I’d hoped for. The receptionist has done everything I could have asked of her (desk sex aside). In contrast, provision of IT services is complicated, and it rarely results in an instant, completely satisfactory outcome.
But perhaps the biggest limiting factor to the power of sexy competence is that, for most people, when they’re at their most competent, they’re at work. And at work, many people are not in a position to be making moves on their customers.
Sorry IT guys, it looks like you need that gym membership after all.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Y'all need to be watchin' this
Here
Warning: there's a bit of 'canasta' type language in this clip. So probably NSFAWWYWWSWDLP. That is, not safe for a workplace where you're working with someone who doesn't like profanity.
There's a whole series of these things on youtube.
Warning: there's a bit of 'canasta' type language in this clip. So probably NSFAWWYWWSWDLP. That is, not safe for a workplace where you're working with someone who doesn't like profanity.
There's a whole series of these things on youtube.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Bus anecdotes - and a question of etiquette
So I was on the bus the other night, minding my own business, listening to a bit of crazy 80s style synth metal on my mp3 player. Shut up, you probably listen to the Backstreet Boys when you're alone, so don't judge me!
Anyway, the bus was reasonably crowded, but I had one of the few spare seats next to me. As it happened, the row of seats behind me also had only one occupant. That occupant happened to be someone who can only fairly be described as a homeless guy.
The bus stopped, and the doors swung open. On stepped another man who, once again, seemed to be domiciliarily challenged. That is to say, I think he was homeless, and I shall dub him HG2 for the purposes of the anecdote. Now, picture me in my shiny new suit, HG1 behind me. HG2 has swiped his ticket, and is bearing down on us. I like to think of myself as a man of the people, but I must confess I was thinking I'd rather you didn't sit next to me, if that's alright with you
And here's the fascinating thing: HG2 takes one look at me, sizes me up, and walks past my seat to sit with HG1. I'm ashamed to say I feel a bit relieved. I'm also ashamed to say I felt slightly indignant. I'd just been snubbed by a homeless man.
A question of etiquette
Is it okay to talk on your mobile phone when you’re on the bus? When other people do, it makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, like I’m eavesdropping on their conversation. There’s nothing I can really do not to hear it, but I still feel a bit uneasy. What do you guys think? Does it depend on the conversation you’re having? How loud you’re talking? How many other people there are around you?
A bus is a difficult social scene. Actually, I am so over busses it's not funny. When it's freezing and the bus decides not to come? I'm over that. When fat people take up lots of space? I'm over that. Seeing moderately attractive women (for some reason they never seem to be really attractive on my bus route) and never being able to talk to them because you're on a bus and that would be a creepy thing to do? My friends, I am over that.
Anyway, the bus was reasonably crowded, but I had one of the few spare seats next to me. As it happened, the row of seats behind me also had only one occupant. That occupant happened to be someone who can only fairly be described as a homeless guy.
The bus stopped, and the doors swung open. On stepped another man who, once again, seemed to be domiciliarily challenged. That is to say, I think he was homeless, and I shall dub him HG2 for the purposes of the anecdote. Now, picture me in my shiny new suit, HG1 behind me. HG2 has swiped his ticket, and is bearing down on us. I like to think of myself as a man of the people, but I must confess I was thinking I'd rather you didn't sit next to me, if that's alright with you
And here's the fascinating thing: HG2 takes one look at me, sizes me up, and walks past my seat to sit with HG1. I'm ashamed to say I feel a bit relieved. I'm also ashamed to say I felt slightly indignant. I'd just been snubbed by a homeless man.
A question of etiquette
Is it okay to talk on your mobile phone when you’re on the bus? When other people do, it makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, like I’m eavesdropping on their conversation. There’s nothing I can really do not to hear it, but I still feel a bit uneasy. What do you guys think? Does it depend on the conversation you’re having? How loud you’re talking? How many other people there are around you?
A bus is a difficult social scene. Actually, I am so over busses it's not funny. When it's freezing and the bus decides not to come? I'm over that. When fat people take up lots of space? I'm over that. Seeing moderately attractive women (for some reason they never seem to be really attractive on my bus route) and never being able to talk to them because you're on a bus and that would be a creepy thing to do? My friends, I am over that.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Things that piss me off #1
Paying money for weak coffee pisses me off, especially if I’m paying extra for the privilege. That’s the situation in many coffee places when you order a ‘tall’ (ie bigfuckoff) coffee. Something clicks in the Barista’s brain (Barista = coffee maker, in the same way that Sandwich Artist = kid who needs a better job) and there is a miscommunication. It occurs thusly:
Andrew: ‘One tall flat white, my good man’. Ah. I am about to receive coffee. Things are looking up! I have opted for the ‘tall’ size because I would like to ingest caffeine in an amount over and above that which is supplied in the standard serve.
Barista [surly]: ‘$4.20. …Please.’ Ha! This chump has just paid an extra $1.50 to upgrade to a tall coffee. I am dissatisfied with my station in life, and will take my frustrations out on the customer by making his drink using the same amount of coffee I’d put in the standard sized drink. His coffee will thus be much weaker, and he will have paid $1.50 for some hot water.
This ‘tall coffee dilemma’ as I’ve just dubbed it, is a serious social ill; a breakdown between the classes. One day, when I am a lawyer, this prole, this coffee man will turn up at my office with a scalded elbow after a minor altercation with the espresso machine. He will expect me to do my utmost to secure the workers compensation he feels is his due. Will I then engage in fearless advocacy on his behalf? Or will I instead ask my secretary to bring in a cup of weak coffee, and laugh in his face as he drinks it?
For now, I circumvent the issue by going straight to Hudsons and asking for a standard flat white with an extra shot of espresso. When I receive the well made beverage from the smiling attendant, I take it over to the bench reserved for such purposes and add one and three quarter teaspoons of sugar, as is my preference. Sometimes I sprinkle some vanilla flakes on top. That’s just the kind of guy I am.
Andrew: ‘One tall flat white, my good man’. Ah. I am about to receive coffee. Things are looking up! I have opted for the ‘tall’ size because I would like to ingest caffeine in an amount over and above that which is supplied in the standard serve.
Barista [surly]: ‘$4.20. …Please.’ Ha! This chump has just paid an extra $1.50 to upgrade to a tall coffee. I am dissatisfied with my station in life, and will take my frustrations out on the customer by making his drink using the same amount of coffee I’d put in the standard sized drink. His coffee will thus be much weaker, and he will have paid $1.50 for some hot water.
This ‘tall coffee dilemma’ as I’ve just dubbed it, is a serious social ill; a breakdown between the classes. One day, when I am a lawyer, this prole, this coffee man will turn up at my office with a scalded elbow after a minor altercation with the espresso machine. He will expect me to do my utmost to secure the workers compensation he feels is his due. Will I then engage in fearless advocacy on his behalf? Or will I instead ask my secretary to bring in a cup of weak coffee, and laugh in his face as he drinks it?
For now, I circumvent the issue by going straight to Hudsons and asking for a standard flat white with an extra shot of espresso. When I receive the well made beverage from the smiling attendant, I take it over to the bench reserved for such purposes and add one and three quarter teaspoons of sugar, as is my preference. Sometimes I sprinkle some vanilla flakes on top. That’s just the kind of guy I am.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Monday, May 21, 2007
Fully sick, mate
I have had a bad run over the last couple of days. As Scott Adams says, if you haven't got your health, you've got nothing.
It all started on Friday when I had my sixth sushi meal for the week. It was Sushi King, and it was not the freshest. I guess I tempted fate once too often. Later that night I was at the Gov watching a band, and there came a point where I knew I had to move to an outside location. Fast. I did so, chucked, and missed the rest of the set.
Now, Typhoid Mary (aka my flatmate Kate)) has given me her cold. We spent the weekend scouring chemists for cold medicine with pseudoephedrine. No, we're not drug dealers, we just want cold medicine that actually works. Kate went to two pharmacists and I went to one. We couldn't scor- I mean, purchase - the required drugs anywhere.
In my desperation I went to the supermarket, only to find shelf after shelf of herbal remedies. I'm now dosed up on garlic and other tasty herbs and spices. If herbal remedies worked, people in the middle ages would have lived past 40. I don't want hippies selling me ineffective drugs. I want old, evil men who test their products on cute animals, screw over the third world just to make a buck, and stuff their pills full of as many efficacious, loopy drugs as they can get past the government regulators. I rarely take cold medication, but when I do, it's because I have fricking symptoms, and I want them to go away.
So, today I bought some 'new formula' Codril day and night. Took 2 night time tablets about an hour ago. With the old stuff, I wouldn't even be able to type by now. But with the new stuff? I don't feel sleepy, just cheated.
It all started on Friday when I had my sixth sushi meal for the week. It was Sushi King, and it was not the freshest. I guess I tempted fate once too often. Later that night I was at the Gov watching a band, and there came a point where I knew I had to move to an outside location. Fast. I did so, chucked, and missed the rest of the set.
Now, Typhoid Mary (aka my flatmate Kate)) has given me her cold. We spent the weekend scouring chemists for cold medicine with pseudoephedrine. No, we're not drug dealers, we just want cold medicine that actually works. Kate went to two pharmacists and I went to one. We couldn't scor- I mean, purchase - the required drugs anywhere.
In my desperation I went to the supermarket, only to find shelf after shelf of herbal remedies. I'm now dosed up on garlic and other tasty herbs and spices. If herbal remedies worked, people in the middle ages would have lived past 40. I don't want hippies selling me ineffective drugs. I want old, evil men who test their products on cute animals, screw over the third world just to make a buck, and stuff their pills full of as many efficacious, loopy drugs as they can get past the government regulators. I rarely take cold medication, but when I do, it's because I have fricking symptoms, and I want them to go away.
So, today I bought some 'new formula' Codril day and night. Took 2 night time tablets about an hour ago. With the old stuff, I wouldn't even be able to type by now. But with the new stuff? I don't feel sleepy, just cheated.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Oh, no!
As a newly initiated member of the worker drone class, I feel it's my duty to compose poetry on company time. Thus, today's effort:
City
shivering grey stone
dark at floor, cold at ceiling
men run in between
Now, as we all know, Haiku is the light beer of poetry. Even so, I'm pretty happy with this one. And even though I'm going a bit Fight Club on y'all, today was a good day. I had sushi again (so good!). I did some interesting work on a defamation case, and as a result I'll be much more circumspect about what I write on this blog. For example I would never suggest that George is a practicing homosexual.
City
shivering grey stone
dark at floor, cold at ceiling
men run in between
Now, as we all know, Haiku is the light beer of poetry. Even so, I'm pretty happy with this one. And even though I'm going a bit Fight Club on y'all, today was a good day. I had sushi again (so good!). I did some interesting work on a defamation case, and as a result I'll be much more circumspect about what I write on this blog. For example I would never suggest that George is a practicing homosexual.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Laksa Time!
For the last three days I've been working at a law firm a stone's throw away from the central markets. On Monday, I had Suzuki Sushi for lunch. Mmmm, that's good sushi.
On Tuesday, I had Suzuki Sushi for lunch. Then I had Sushi King for tea.
By the time lunch came around today, I was (a) sick of sushi; and (b) hungry as all getup. There was only one solution: a Laksa House Large Laksa Noodle for $6.80!
I was a bit hesitant, because eating Laksa is generally a messy business, and I was wearing the suit that I'll be living in for (at least) the next five and a half weeks. Nevertheless, the call was too strong. I ordered from the friendly Laksa woman, and she looked at me like I was mad. She made a point of giving me extra serviettes. She said: 'I give you some extra serviettes'.
Suitably warned, I took my tray, and balancing a full bowl of steaming Laksa and a Peach Iced Tea, headed for a vacant seat. The food court was busy, and I sat down diagonally opposite a friendly looking man with no obvious signs of disease. I started to eat. VERY carefully.
I'm pleased to report that I managed to stay completely free of tricky laksa stains. I also got that amazing laksa high you get after a good laksa (try it, you'll see!). Tonight I went jogging, and the laksa helped overcome my lack of commitment to a regular training regime.
All in all, a good day.
In other news
Julian: Bottle Baby!
Jerry Falwell has died. I really try hard not to express happiness at the death of another human being, but perhaps there's an exception to every rule. Here's something funny related to this piece of news. Extract:
On Tuesday, I had Suzuki Sushi for lunch. Then I had Sushi King for tea.
By the time lunch came around today, I was (a) sick of sushi; and (b) hungry as all getup. There was only one solution: a Laksa House Large Laksa Noodle for $6.80!
I was a bit hesitant, because eating Laksa is generally a messy business, and I was wearing the suit that I'll be living in for (at least) the next five and a half weeks. Nevertheless, the call was too strong. I ordered from the friendly Laksa woman, and she looked at me like I was mad. She made a point of giving me extra serviettes. She said: 'I give you some extra serviettes'.
Suitably warned, I took my tray, and balancing a full bowl of steaming Laksa and a Peach Iced Tea, headed for a vacant seat. The food court was busy, and I sat down diagonally opposite a friendly looking man with no obvious signs of disease. I started to eat. VERY carefully.
I'm pleased to report that I managed to stay completely free of tricky laksa stains. I also got that amazing laksa high you get after a good laksa (try it, you'll see!). Tonight I went jogging, and the laksa helped overcome my lack of commitment to a regular training regime.
All in all, a good day.
In other news
Julian: Bottle Baby!
Jerry Falwell has died. I really try hard not to express happiness at the death of another human being, but perhaps there's an exception to every rule. Here's something funny related to this piece of news. Extract:
Buddha: I think he should go back for another few lifetimes. We could start him off as a tadpole.
Vishnu: That's your answer to everything, Buddha!
Buddha: Take it easy, third-eye.
Vishnu: Oh, go sit under a tree!
Jesus: Could we not talk about trees?
Friday, May 11, 2007
Classic South Aussie Bogan
No need to say more:
South Aussie Proud!
Also on a slightly less disturbing note here's a heaps good t-shirt:
Heaps Good!
South Aussie Proud!
Also on a slightly less disturbing note here's a heaps good t-shirt:
Heaps Good!
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
All my guys, stoned, on the baseball field
I don't really have anything interesting to report about my life, so as a substitute I will strongly urge you to go and check this here thing out. It will be the funniest thing you'll see on the internet today, and will count as doing one interesting thing, if you are trying to follow George's plan of doing three interesting things every day.
Actually, if you've just gone to that link, and been having of the thought, that's not funny so much as weird, what I meant to say about a paragraph ago was that you have to give it a couple of comics for the story arc to kick in. This comic, Achewood, which I've mentioned before, is like Heroes - you need some time to mellow into it. Click the little arrow button to jump to the next comic, and keep going for about ten comics, or until you catch up to the current day.
Let me know your thoughts.
Actually, if you've just gone to that link, and been having of the thought, that's not funny so much as weird, what I meant to say about a paragraph ago was that you have to give it a couple of comics for the story arc to kick in. This comic, Achewood, which I've mentioned before, is like Heroes - you need some time to mellow into it. Click the little arrow button to jump to the next comic, and keep going for about ten comics, or until you catch up to the current day.
Let me know your thoughts.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Philosophy and hamburgers*
Riddle me this, blog-o-phobes: is it just me that finds good customer service - and I don't mean extraordinary service, just friendly, helpful service - can lift you up and make you feel good for a couple of hours?
Just yesterday I had two positive encounters in the space of half an hour which left me feeling great! If it weren't for the Falcon** that almost rammed me on my drive home, it would've been a perfect lunchtime excursion.
Sadly, folks, my today has been less happy. The best I can sum it up is this:
Should you feel disappointed if someone's actions, reactions or even lack of actions indicate to you a failing of yourself or reveal a truth that you may not have wanted to know, or should you just be glad to be rid of that delusion?
Is the pain of that truth worthwhile pain? Should it be suffered with reminder of the overall good it achieves? Should it even hurt, since it may be doing you a favour?
And to make sure this ends on a happier note, here's a funny image, courtesy of Imogen:
*okay, I lied, there are no hamburgers
**the car, not the bird
P.S. - Oh yeah, I'm coming to Adelaide tomorrow for a week. I even have a gig on the 11th, which you should all come to.
Just yesterday I had two positive encounters in the space of half an hour which left me feeling great! If it weren't for the Falcon** that almost rammed me on my drive home, it would've been a perfect lunchtime excursion.
Sadly, folks, my today has been less happy. The best I can sum it up is this:
Should you feel disappointed if someone's actions, reactions or even lack of actions indicate to you a failing of yourself or reveal a truth that you may not have wanted to know, or should you just be glad to be rid of that delusion?
Is the pain of that truth worthwhile pain? Should it be suffered with reminder of the overall good it achieves? Should it even hurt, since it may be doing you a favour?
And to make sure this ends on a happier note, here's a funny image, courtesy of Imogen:
*okay, I lied, there are no hamburgers
**the car, not the bird
P.S. - Oh yeah, I'm coming to Adelaide tomorrow for a week. I even have a gig on the 11th, which you should all come to.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
This, that and the other
I just watched episode 20 of Heroes. Wow. I take back almost everything I said.
In other news, some people think Tony Abbott might be a human being, and not, as the prevailing view suggests, a conservative space alien in disguise. You be the judge:
Good grief.
In other news, some people think Tony Abbott might be a human being, and not, as the prevailing view suggests, a conservative space alien in disguise. You be the judge:
Good grief.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Recent developments
Something is rotten in the state of Blogmark. No one's posted in over a week, and it's been two weeks since anyone other than me posted. There are two possible conclusions:
- everyone has been leading such interesting lives that they've no time to blog; or
- everyone has been leading such boring lives that they've nothing to blog about.
I know which way I'm betting. As for my boring life, I've been firing off job applications in the small amount of free time left to me after my two jobs and university commitments. This morning I got a call from a law firm to set up an interview on Thursday. Already I am hella nervous, as if those damn butterflies all been drinking of cheap bourbon. (Recently I keep slipping into Roast Beef mode when I'm writing).
The interview's with a firm that I would REALLY like to get a job with. I'd be very happy to end up there. Actually, I was kinda hoping I'd have a couple of interviews with some of the 'also-applied' firms first, so that I could work up to this one. Alas, it's not to be. I'm generally pretty crap in job interviews. I think maybe I'm not too good at self-reflection, at least not in a high-pressure time-critical environment.
Apparently the secret to legal job interviews is to act arrogantly, to give the impression that you're doing the interviewer a favour by attending. This apparently makes you look like you're confident, and you've had offers from other firms. That's the theory, but I've never tried it because I can't get past the sneaking suspicion that it would also make you look like a wanker. As all you non-lawyers are surely now aching to point out, perhaps being a wanker is not such a drawback in the legal profession...
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Anyone got any tips for job interviews? Note that I already imagine everyone in their underwear. All of the time. Including you.
- everyone has been leading such interesting lives that they've no time to blog; or
- everyone has been leading such boring lives that they've nothing to blog about.
I know which way I'm betting. As for my boring life, I've been firing off job applications in the small amount of free time left to me after my two jobs and university commitments. This morning I got a call from a law firm to set up an interview on Thursday. Already I am hella nervous, as if those damn butterflies all been drinking of cheap bourbon. (Recently I keep slipping into Roast Beef mode when I'm writing).
The interview's with a firm that I would REALLY like to get a job with. I'd be very happy to end up there. Actually, I was kinda hoping I'd have a couple of interviews with some of the 'also-applied' firms first, so that I could work up to this one. Alas, it's not to be. I'm generally pretty crap in job interviews. I think maybe I'm not too good at self-reflection, at least not in a high-pressure time-critical environment.
Apparently the secret to legal job interviews is to act arrogantly, to give the impression that you're doing the interviewer a favour by attending. This apparently makes you look like you're confident, and you've had offers from other firms. That's the theory, but I've never tried it because I can't get past the sneaking suspicion that it would also make you look like a wanker. As all you non-lawyers are surely now aching to point out, perhaps being a wanker is not such a drawback in the legal profession...
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Anyone got any tips for job interviews? Note that I already imagine everyone in their underwear. All of the time. Including you.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
The facts of life
For a while now, Scott Adams (creator of Dilbert) has had a penchant for detailing recent acts of bestiality. He also holds opinions on copyright law, and expresses said opinions from time to time. So his latest post is, I suppose, the inevitable next step. He’s likened violating copyright to having sex with someone else’s goat. I for one think that comparison needed to be made.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Byron Wrapup Pt 3
follows on from this post
Day Three: Saturday
By now I was living the blues. Saturday's lineup didn't present as many big names as the previous two days, but I was keen to get to the fest and make some discoveries. In the end, I hung out with my cousins, got drunk, met some nice hippy girls, ate some more Langos, and had a great day.
Amos Lee
Word on the street was that this guy was worth seeing. He plays laid back bluesish tunes on his acoustic guitar, and matches it with a great soulful voice. My only criticism would be that he was a little too good. He was so talented, he made what he was doing look effortless. I want to see people suffer for their music. If you'll permit me a rather bizzare metaphore, It's like I can't get a musical erection without a bit of S&M. The blues usually gives me what I need.
Amos Lee: Too goddamn perfect Wandering Around
Those readers with excellent memories will recall the schedule I posted in part 1 of this series. There's a bit of a gap between Amos Lee, which finished at 3:00, and the next act I saw all of, which began at 7:00. Where did these missing hours go? Well, I remember drinking, and wandering around with my cousins. I caught 20 mins of Fred Eaglesmith's set. He's a Canadian who sings country music, and has an unhealthy preoccupation with guns, trucks, trains and dogs. He sings a song called "I think it's time to go buy a gun", which is fantastic.
While waiting with my cousin Jake while my brother went to the toilet, we were, unbeknownst to me at the time, approached by three good looking females. I was daydreaming when I heard Jake say something like, 'go on, he loves it!'. The next thing I know, I receive a whack on the arse. Yelping, I turned around to see three girls run past me and into the crowd. Jake recalled the moment later on the family blog: 'Favourite moments of the fest - Three girls debating whether they should smack Andrew on the arse - I leaned over and said 'He loves a smack' - so they gave him a short, sharp whack." Love it I did.
It seems awfully decadent to pay $squillions to fly across the country (not to mention the cost to the planet in C02 emissions!) to attend a music festival, then ignore the musicians to wander around and get drunk. But sometimes you've got to take a bit of a break to refresh the musical palette. And sometimes, random girls smack you on the arse.
My brother (top), my cousin Jake (right), and two lovely girls we made friends withFishbone
My cousin Adam dragged us back to mojo to see these guys, who I'd never heard of. They're a black American group reminiscent of the Cat Empire, and they rock. The crowd were restless when they started out with a 10 minute, very cool jazz spoken word piece, but I was digging it. Soon, though, they launched into some high energy numbers (still very jazz-influenced), and suddenly everyone was dancing. The lead singer kept stage diving into the huge audience, getting passed round the mosh pit for minutes at a time, singing all the while. Big respect to the roadie who basically had to treat the guy's mic cable like a fishing line. When he came back towards the stage, the roadie would reel in the cable to stop it getting tangled in the crowd.
Soulman
Now I had a decision to make: did I want to check out rock legends Eric Burdon and The Animals, or stay at Mojo to wait for Ozomatli, who Adam informed me would rock? I knew that it would be a sin not to see the Animals, who are undisputed music icons. On the other hand, I was drunk and wanted to party with the young people. In the end, I resolved to head over to Crossroads, where the Animals were playing, check them out, and stay if they blew my mind. I did so and lasted five minutes before I lost concentration (I am a terrible man). As I wandered back to Mojo, I passed the Apra stage, where I saw Adam and my brother checking out Soulman. I stopped for a listen.
He's a Jamaican living in Perth, and sings fairly easy listening rocky acoustic pop. But he's got a really friendly, happy vibe, and you can't help but be won over by him. A pleasant way to spend 20 minutes.
SoulmanOzomatli (Best crowd experience of the fest)
These guys were awesome. Another Cat Empire-style ensemble who knew how to get the crowd dancing and happy. At the end of their allotted hour, they needed to let the roadies set up for the next performance, but didn't want to stop playing. So they all jumped off the stage and started a procession through the audience - drums, horn section, singers, and girls on stilts dressed as flamingos. George and Alice will recall that a similar thing happened at the Batacuda Sound Machine performance last year; that was at Jambalaya, a small stage. This was in Mojo, and the crowd just couldn't believe it.
The band formed a circle right in the middle of the tent and started a chant. Each time they did this, from where I was standing you could hear the chant faintly at first (no mics), then it grew louder as the audience nearest them caught on. The chant would ripple back from the middle of the tent, till you could hear everyone in the tent and the people outside on the grass getting in on the action. An almost religious experience.
Ozomatli gets down with the massive crowd at MojoBo Diddley
After Ozomatli I felt exhausted and energised at the same time. I stuck around to see if The Roots would be any good. The writeup in the program described them in much the same way as Ozomatli: large group with ecclectic influences including hip hop. In the case of The Roots, ecclectic meant borrowing from both Eminem AND 50 Cent. They stunk, and people started to float away from Mojo, myself included.
By then there was only one option, and that option was Bo Diddley. Half blues man, half blues legend, he's really really old but still very cool. Most of his songs are centred around how great he is, including 'Hey Bo Diddley', where he sings 'Hey Bo Diddley' and the crowd answers 'Hey Bo Diddley', and the 'Bo Diddley Rap', wherein Bo Diddley recounts his success with the ladies. A feel good end to another day in Blues Paradise.
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