Pulled out the jammy, killed the punanny

In the words of Ice Cube, 'Today is a good day, I didn't even have to use my A.K'

Yep, my first day of Christmas holidays, which also coincides with my lovely wife's birthday. Sure she may be getting older but she is alright :)

Aside from spending the last week at work trying my hardest to look busy things have been going well. Baby is slowly starting to get into good sleeping and eating habits, although somedays she is as stubborn as a drunk donkey and will just stay awake for six hour runs. This is definitely a trait she has got from her mother's side. As for traits she has gotten from me, these are all the positive ones like her good looks and happy demeanor.

Before I wrap this up I was reading about a the guy who they believe killed John Walsh, host of America's Most Wanted, son 27 years ago. This dude, Otis Toole, had one seriously messed up life and when he teamed up with another nut case, Henry Lee Lucas, things turned into a kind of real life psycho film. Anyways, granted Toole was fucked from the outset but in comparison to Lucas he had everything. Amongst other things Lucas' father was a legless alcoholic & his mother was prostie who would turn tricks in from of her husband and son to make a few bucks.

Obviously these two are extreme examples of being screwed before you get a chance but it got me thinking of how some things can really fuck up a kid. Of course there are the obvious ones like drugs, abuse, gangs etc but there are also some things that may not be as obvious:

Growing up in the Woods. I dont know what it is but whenever you read about serial killers or harmless lunatics they have always grown up in a log cabin in some isolated location. This no doubt explains why so many psychos hunt their prey in forests.

Being super, super rich. Sure they are never left wanting for anything but truth be told no-one actually likes these people and probably have more negative voodoo thrown their way than a dude who takes Oprah's last donut

Having parents who listen to techno. What sort of a start to life is this. You spend nine months in the womb listening to the 'bass dropping hard and fast' and then when you finally escape this uterus torture cell you get driven round in a souped up Japenese import with 12 'mean az' subs, bro.

I am sure there are a heap more but I am tired and want to go have a beer so you figure out the rest.

Sweet dreams.

Nothing gets me off more than a stripper who cries during a lapdance

So last night I had a very fucked up dream, I cannot remember all of it however the part I do was absolutel gold...

I was driving my fire truck, my very own fire truck that I used for personal transport, down Fort Street in Auckland and I remember seeing some dude strolling into one of the many brothels down there. I remember having a chuckle to myself and thinking 'what a dirty guy' but not judging him too much because the sole reason I was down that way was to go to a strip joint right next door to the Police station to pay my monthly membership fee of $33.95.

So yeah, that's all I remember but if anyone can give me some sort of dream interpretation it would be great. PLUS if anyone knows where I can join a strip club for $33.95 a month please tell me that too.

Chur

Short and Sharp, just like my woohoo

Almost 2 weeks down in this fatherhood game and I must say things have been going pretty smoothly. There are obviously some occasions full of crying and frustration, and that is just Mere and Me (HAHAHA see what I did there, a Dad’s joke, bloody brilliant).

Anyways, in all seriousness life is good right now.

Aside from changing nappies and burping a small human being I am in my last week of work before my Christmas/New Years break which sees me away from the office for a little over 2 weeks. The screen printing gig is going well and I think each time I get a little bit better and the process becomes a little smoother.

Despite all of this goodness my brain is still a bit of a mess right now so I am going to call it a day and actually go do some work that pays.

Take care, and remember that ‘tis the season for excess and who are you to disobey the season

x

It's not you. It's me. We can still be friends. Oh forget lets just be bed buddies rrrrrrrr

Usually after I have had a big break from this blogging thing I start off by apologising for my slackness yadda yadda yadda but today i am not going to do that; A - cos I Have a very good reason (the birth of my beautiful baby girl) and B - if you haven't figured out by now I am slack at updates then you are as slow as that retard Gilbert Grape.

So yeah, I was actually logging on to say my final goodbyes and explain that now I am a Dad I dont have time for this cyberspace diary however once I got to typing I felt that old rush of excitement and have now decided I will keep this going for as long as I can. Sure the updates might not be as regular but they will still be there so rejoice my people, rejoice, your reason for living will remain.

With that I am wrapping this up, I dont have anything to say. Shit, as of two minutes ago I was writing a Eulogy.

Take care, look after your Mothers and know my daughter is the most gorgeous baby in the world, EVER!

Hey bro, check out my dance. BRO! Oi Bro, check this out! Oi, look at me fuck face!!!!

What a boomer, another good old day in New Zealand, or as those of native decent may say, Aotearoa.

So yesterday was the due date for the heir to my North Shore kingdom’s arrival date however I think things must be too good inside Mum’s stomach as Baby isn’t quite ready to come out and join the world yet. In saying that they do say most women of European heritage run a little overdue with their first born so it is all just a waiting game. This game however means I am still getting up each day and heading into work with my cell phone in hand ready to make a run for the door as soon as I get the word.

I must admit though my saving grace is that work has been pretty busy for the last few weeks with end of year exhibitions and Graduation coming up so I have not had a lot of downtime. On the flip side I am pretty sure Mere is ready for Baby to make his/her grand entrance into the world because lets be honest there is only so much Oprah and Dr. Phil you can watch. Although in saying that, this week on Dr. Phil he is working with some crack addicted prostitute sisters who are trying to turn their lives around and no longer suck wang for blow money, no pun intended.

Speaking of sucking wang, how about that Australian league team. What a punch of whinging bastards. They lose the world cup final to the Kiwis and then run around crying about how the refs, the administrators and everyone involved in running the tournament plotted against them. Suck it up ladies, you can have a shot at winning it back in 5 years or so.

Unfortunately it is not just the Aussie league players who have proven that professional sports nowadays is full of prima donnas. Of course we all know that soccer players world wide love to act it up, have a cry and try to get their mate to sympathetically cup their balls but over the last few weeks I have noticed the mighty All Blacks have been in the news having a cry about irrelevant shit.

There was once a time when rugby players, be any level of competition, were hard nosed buggers who just got on with it. Now, you would be hard pressed to find a team that doesn’t have at least one pretty boy who puts product in his hair before a game and probably showers in his silky Calvin Klein boxers instead of letting it all hang out whilst having a can of Double Brown in the locker room. Then you have got that fucktard Nonu who wore fuckin’ eyeliner in a game. What the hell was all that about, dude should have been dropped from the team for even thinking of such a thing. And now we have to listen to the All Black management having a blubber over the fact that some of the opposition aren’t respecting the haka. Harden the fuck up. If they don’t want to watch a traditional Maori war dance done by a few Maoris, even more Pacific Islanders and the odd token white guy they don’t have to. Here’s an idea, do the haka then get on with the game and don’t worry about who watched it or not. It is a test match build up, not New Zealand’s got talent.

With that off my chest I can progress with this narrative.

On Tuesday I was on my way to drop off some drinks for an exhibition and swung by my old work to have a quick cup of tea with my friend Josie. Seems a pretty normal thing to do and in most cases it is however I do admit whenever I go there I am always aware there is a distinct possibility I may bump into my old boss. Anyone who spent more than 3 minutes with me during my time of employment here will know that my feelings towards this woman’s ability to run a team were not favourable. In fact, truth be told I am surprised she can get her limbs to work in unison half the time. Anyhow, as my luck would have it just as I was leaving I walked around the corner to see her standing there. Then there was that weird awkward silence, you know the one, it is like when you are getting a little action with some bird you have just met and you accidentally call her Bruce or something. So yeah there was that silence, some bullshit small talk and then we both moved quickly and quietly to our nearest exit.

It was like when your dating a girl who isn’t all there but she’s hot so you just stick it out, then she lets herself go and you are left with some insane chick who repulses you, I know that’s a bit harsh but you get the idea. Anyway so you flick her off and life goes back to normal. Then one night you are out drinking with the boys trying to pull a new piece of tail and you bump into her and she looks hot. Now for a split second you think you may have been a bit hasty in getting rid of her but then you remember all the crazy late night phone calls, unexplainable breakdowns and missing ice cream and you pat yourself on the back for making the right choice. Then there is that awkward silence and you return to mates.

So yeah, I am not saying my old boss was looking good, or I was tempted to try and get my job back, all I am saying is those awkward silences pop up a hell of a lot in my life and the more you live with them, the easier they get.

Well I have rambled enough for one day, I don’t even know what I started writing about and I am pretty sure this reads relatively incoherently so I am going to leave it there. Till next time, where I promise I will try and piece together a more betterer written piece of prose, take care.

Wooooo wooo woo sweet child of mine

I have no idea what has happened to our summer but all of a sudden the weather has packed in and once again I am looking out my window at another gloomy and depressing day. But hey, this is Auckland so it is likely to turn into another BBQ seducing day later on.

Enough about the weather, I have more important things to ramble about, namely, myself. I enjoy long walks on the beach, romantic candle lit dinners sipping on a fine wine surrounded by the beauty of nature and a fine woman. Well the fine woman part is true but as for the rest it is more like I enjoy sitting on the couch playing Xbox with my wife, AKA the fine woman, and drinking the cheapest beer they had on sale at Foodtown. Either way I consider myself a good dude and a top catch.

So yeah, another working week, another few dollars to pay the rent, bills and buy some food has just begun and still no sign of the heir to my throne. This being said we haven’t quite reached the due date yet so I am on full alert and ready to take on my supportive role any time now.

With baby so close my weekend didn’t really consist of a lot of rawkus behaviour, truth by told it was very civilised (see above - long walks on the beach etc). It also consisted of some screen printing, some shopping and general house chores.

Amongst all of the above madness, I also got a chance to check out the new Guns N Roses album, ‘Chinese Democracy’. After 17 odd years and however many million dollars I was expecting Axl to pull something out of the bag and silence all the naysayers, unfortunately all my ears were greeted with was an extremely over produced album complete with way too many effects and not enough of the good old G’N’R grunt. Granted there was the odd occasion that I could sense some of the old power coming through but those moments were fleeting and few and far between.

Despite ‘Chinese Democracy’ not coming close to the epic mark set by classics such as ‘Appetite For Destruction’ of ‘Use Your Illusion 1 & 2’ it does serve as a brilliant segway into my next topic.

On Sunday night we went to a BBQ at our friend Danielle’s place. Now Danielle has just come back from a family wedding on Australia’s Gold Coast and whilst at this wedding she got herself a little bit of loving with a South African guy that we have named Yarnie, whose family run some sort of circus/carnival in Europe therefore making him the product of gypsies. Anyway, back to my Guns N Roses segway, over dinner Danielle’s sister informed us that at one point during the night the dance floor cleared and all that was left was Danielle and Yarnie making out in front of everyone as the DJ cranked ‘November Rain’. Just think about it for a second, Danielle, who is a self proclaimed westie, making out with some random guy in front of her entire family while Guns N Roses’ ‘November Rain’ played. You don’t get much more romantic than that.

This picture perfect account of young love got me thinking what other songs would be fantastic dance floor make out tracks and pretty soon the list was getting out of hand so here are just a few…

Dr. Dre – ‘Bitches Aint Shit’
“Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get's the fuck out after you're done
And I hops in my ride to make a quick run”

With this passionate refrain how could it not be a make out classic

Color Me Badd – ‘I Want To Sex You Up’
“Girl you make me feel good
We can do it ‘till we both wake up”

This song is seduction 101. In fact I sung the chorus of this song to my standard four girlfriend down the phone only to find out her friend was listening. Unfortunately my life is not a porno and this dod not result in a threesome.

Dr Hook – ‘I Wanna Kiss You All Over’
Who doesn’t know this song. Close your eyes and imagine it playing at some dingy club or school hall with all your family sitting around as you make out with your new lover in front of them all. Ahhhhhhhh.

Rage Against the Machine – ‘Bulls on Parade’
Might seem like a funny call here but there are some people who like a bit of oomph in their make out sessions so this one is for them.

Sir Mix-A-Lot – ‘Baby Got Back’
No explanation needed here, this one is pretty self explanatory.

Billy Ray Cyrus – ‘Achey Breaky Heart’
Who doesn’t know this song. You could stand on any dance floor around the world as your new friend runs her hands through your mullet and you feel her caboose in her tight denim skirt as Billy Ray wails in the background.

Ricky Martin – ‘She Bangs’
If you ever find yourself making out to this track it is like a contract. This girl must now go home with you and have sex. There are no two ways about it, making out to ‘She Bangs’ is a legal contract for sex, just like flicking a hooker fifty bucks, she has to do it

C+C Music Factory - ‘Things That Make You Go Hmmmm’
Now unlike ‘She Bangs’ this is not a song you want to hear whilst making out. This is the DJ’s subtle way of telling you that you should get pull out before it is too late. It is not because you are making out with a swamp donkey but because the girl may be packing something extra down below. And like the $50 hooker once you get it going you have to follow through.

Bloodhound Gang – ‘Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo
I think any Bloodhound Gang song would be great for dance floor hook ups but the cream of the crop, excuse the pun, has to be ‘Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo. Come on who wouldn’t want to be making out and hear Jimmy Pop’s sweet voice singing
“Marinate the nether rod
In the squish mitten

Power drill the yippee bog
With the dude piston

Pressure wash the quiver bone
In the bitch wrinkle

Cannonball the fiddle cove
Ooh la la
With the pork steeple”

As you can see this list could go on and on but I don’t think I could truly do it justice without mentioning at least one more classic make out song - The Hokey Pokey. How complete would your life be to make out to some dude telling you to put this here or there and shake it all about.

Well this has gone on for far too long now and I had better get to work but take care and until next time remember if it looks like shit, smells like shit and tastes lie shit , it is probably a product of West Auckland.

Stop. Go. Stop. Go. Tsst, bro you got a lighter. Go. Stop. Ah crap, I fucked up again

Thank God it is Friday.!!! This has been one of those weeks. You know the ones, they just seem to drag on forever and even though you manage to achieve a whole bunch of crap, you still feel as though over the last five days you have been as productive as a Whangarei roading crew.

On the subject of roading crews, do you think you graduate from hole digger to lollypop guy to spade holder to smoking guy? Or is it just a matter of the toughest and ugliest bastards telling the weaker, less ugly guys to do their work? I guess that is how it worked in more archaic times and things still got done, hell they probably got done in a more efficient manner than nowadays. Maybe more work places should be run like this. That way the annoying little I.T. guys who monitor all your emails, look at your personal files and have the personality of a cracked out whore would be put in their place instead of strutting around like almighty computer Gods. Hell, I think the imperialist cultures of the past had the right idea until some jacked up PC wanker had to come and ruin it for all mankind.

Anyways, yeah, Friday, good times.

This weekend is going to be a good one. I don't have a lot of concrete plans as most things right now revolve around the pregnant side of the family. Maybe I will get into my skimpiest jean shorts and wash our new family wagon that we brought this week, I might try and get some more shirts printed and who knows we may even top it all off by adding a member to our family. Either way I am keen on the upcoming two days.

Shit this is a short one but hey my brain is going in a million different directions right now so before I end up spouting on about some irrelevant nonsense and sounding like Helen Clark trying to explain her policies I am going to call it a wrap.

Till next time don't forget me

So each night I like to kick back in my undies and unwind with a little me time

A whole nother week has flown by and once again I have not updated this blogging thing. Who would have known Internet property management was this much effort. I was kind of hoping to post a few blogs, create a bit of Internet hype and have online groupies throwing themselves at me and sending through dirty pictures of themselves. however, the reality is I think the only person who ever reads this literary genius is Salty and he no doubt reads it lying in bed in his Y-fronts, not really the kind of groupie I was going for but hey beggars cant be choosers.

As you may have guessed by lack of updates things have been going along at a mighty pace in my world. Mostly I have just been working and bite my tongue as everyone at work runs around whinging about how stressed they are. I must admit that sometimes I do just want to grab their heads and shake them like welfare mother shaking her last few casino chits. For fuck sake, you are not the only stressed out one here, maybe if you didn't go for 20 minute cigarette breaks every hour or so you might get more done. Common sense people, don't bitch to me about your workload if half the day you are either out smoking or chatting to your friends on the phone.

Aside from work, home is good. Baby is coming along nicely and I am expecting to upgrade to Fatherhood anytime in the next week or so. Unfortunately this upgrade doesn't come with a free company car so we have had to go out and buy a new one that is more economical and will hold the numerous baby accessories we will be travelling with. Yes, gone are my days of cruising around listening to boom boom music is my little red convertible, now is the dawn of the sensible family station wagon. Still this is a good thing as I don't want to be like the dipshit who cut me off the other day; middle aged, blonde fluffy skullet (you know the ones, long at the back, short up the front and bald in the middle) and driving a Porsche in a feeble attempt to cling onto his youth and pull some young piece of ass in which he probably couldn't do anything with anyway cos his old tallywhacker is so broken from years of abuse at an all boys boarding school.

To finish on a more positive note than my previous post I thought I would list things that I am really loving right now. This way when I hit publish post I will be full of warm fluffy feelings instead of midget beating rage:

BBQ's - This weekend was a boomer. Not only was it as hot and sticky as a hookers g-string it was sunny as hell too and that meant BBQ time. There is nothing better than standing round a flaming metal grill, frying dead animals and drinking beer.

The Gaslight Anthem/The Lawrence Arms - Easily the 2 greatest bands ever. The only reason I ever stop listening to one of them is to listen to the other. This is good times music.

My wife - She has been pretty damn amazing throughout the whole pregnancy. There has hardly been any whinging or moaning and I am yet to have to do one midnight run to Burger King to satisfy her cravings.

Madden '06 on XBox - I can't stop playing this game. Sports games are the greatest cos every single time you play they are different and the brilliance of Madden is the pinnacle of sports gaming.

Screenprinting - Watch out cos I am about to rule the world with this.

Anyways, the list could, and probably should go on and on, but I have work to do

Peace

Not all bacon is good for you

Holy heck in hell, it has been over a week since I updated this page with some of my literary genius and good time stories. Well I apologise, but I dont really feel sorry. it is one of those fake apologises that gets you out of trouble but the truth is you dont really care too much. You know the ones, like when you are standing in a crowded bar or something and as you walk past some hot girl you accidentally brush her butt or boobs, of course you apologise but inside you are racking up another few titty cricket runs.

Anyways, with my lack of updates you may think that I have been extremely busy and to some extent this is true but the real truth is I have just been too damn lazy to write anything. This is probably a good thing because between starting work at the crack of dawn, trying to lose some winter fat and creating my t-shirt empire my brain hasn't been able to function.

So yeah, life is good, Baby is coming along well and it could be any day now we have been told, any day now or four week away. Baby is locked and loaded.

Before I wrap this up, yeah I know this is a short post but hey a short one is better than nothing, insert joke here about a small wanger, I have noticed a lot of things pissing me off lately. I dont know if it is just that I am tired all the time but little shit is really bugging me so in an attempt to release my rage valve I am going to list some of the things and hope by sharing them with you it will transfer my hate of them to you.

- Emo Kids. For fucks sake I dont care about your hair, I dont care about your fucking horrible taste in music and if I see anymore of you hugging and acting 'alternative and wacky' I am going to cut your fucking heads off.

- The Edge. Not that i listen to this radio station but I have to see their crappy adverts and that is enough to enrage me.

- Helen Clark. Seriously, every time I hear this man/woman talk I cringe. Not only does she spit and slur like a drunken hobo but she does that annoying laughing thing whenever she is called on anything.

- Ellen Degeneres. So I had the displeasure of seeing her talk show when I was at home the other week. If I wanted to see some middle aged dyke dancing around I would head down to Showgirls, at least I could get a buzz on there making it more bearable.

- Drivers who can't merge. Like a zip motherfuckers! Like a zip!

- Kevin Bacon. Dude should have just given up after Footloose. Would have been better to go out on top Kevin.

Right that will do for now as I dont want to get to worked up but this list will be continued.

Do you guys sell those jandals that make you look cool?

This Auckland weather is really starting to drive me nuts, one day it is an absolute stunner and I really believe that summer is here for good and then the next it is raining. Either which way I have mentally switched into summer mode in which I BBQ as many nights as I can. You could say it a huge switch for me to make but hell I am not going to be one of those dirty jandal wearing folk who as soon as the sun come out slap on their plastic feet g-strings and walk around like they are Magnum PI.

Jandals are not right and the sooner you people realise this the better!! They make your feet look ridiculous, can give you some messed up sunburn and as for practicality, they have absolutely none.

I was trying to think of a way to segway from jandals into Halloween, but I couldn't think of anything witty enough so i am just going to go for the lack of segway being my segway.

So yeah, Halloween was Friday night. It has never been a big deal here in New Zealand, mostly it is just a few of the local neighbourhood kids dressed up and trick or treating predominantly on their own street however there are always a couple of retarded 15/16 year old girls who put on some devil horns and a my chemical romance t-shirt and think trick or treating is cool and by doing it in their teenage years they are crazy. News flash, you are neither cool or crazy, you are in fact a freakin dipshit who has no doubt embarrassed their parents so much they wish you would go and join 'the black parade' with your gang of rebellious emo kids.

Speaking of emo kids, when the hell will this trend die? I mean every generation has had something that defines them, be it free love and excessive drug use, hypercolour t-shirts and white rappers or plaid tee shirts and coked out musicians. But come on, what generation wants to be defined by music written by some whinging little bitch boy who is crying over the fact his 14-year-old girlfriend who wont touch his nuts cos she thinks they are icky. Also have some foresight kids, in ten years time do you really want to look back at yourself and see pictures of you in your sisters jeans? Come on.

Moving on, today is the election in USA, good Lord I hope Barack Obama wins. Sure it will be history making with all the fanfare around him being the first black president but there is also another reason that the media seem to have overlooked, he will have the biggest penis out of all the presidents in history, now that, my brothers, is something to be proud of.

I have got a busy day so I am going to wrap this up before I end up spending a good chunk of my day writing general dribble instead of working on the reports in front of me. However before I go a quick update on baby; all is going super smooth, Baby is locked and loaded and we have been told it is merely a waiting game now.

Peace!

Trick or Treat!!! My Costume? Oh it is a rotting carcass

It is hard to be a middle class white male. With the elections currently dominating every aspect of the news I have noticed that every sector of society, no matter how large or how small, seem to have at least one community group standing up for their rights, except middle class white males.

Seriously you think about it, there are factions purely focused on Women, Children, Teachers, Nurses, Animals, Maoris, Asians, Pacific Islanders you name it there is some sort of public voice. Now, don't get me wrong, I think a number of these sets have a truly valid place in our society but come on who is standing up for Mr. Joe Public. I know exactly where Ms Wing Fa'lala stands on every issue, I know just what Mr. Tama al Jezarah is going to do about the issues, God save us, I even now how pets would vote if they had the opportunity but I never hear the voice of the middle class white New Zealand male.

Don't get me wrong, this is not a racist rant, it is more just a cry for attention as I too want to have someone standing up for me.

Anyways, enough of that, tomorrow is Friday, Halloween. I think it will be a pretty quiet night in our house although I was thinking today that if we were to go to a dress up party, me and the little lady could go as an inbred brother/sister/pregnant couple. Either that or a couple of bits of Lego stuck together, a plug and socket or maybe even Kelly and Zack from Saved by the Bell.

Staying with Halloween there must be a bunch of costumes that would be considered slightly wrong. You know would you really give lollies to kids who came and knocked on your door dressed as:
- a little SS trooper
- a drunken wife beater
- a hypodermic needle
- Michael Jackson
- a blue dildo
- a green dildo
- any other coloured dildo
- roadkill
damn this list could go on forever.

With that out the way I am going to go and do old man things like have a cup of tea, get nude and rub myself between the couches.

Insert witty yet thought provoking phrase here

Yeah so I have been pretty slack with my cyberspace property management over the last week or so, I don't really have a valid excuse just that the weather has been pretty good and we have just come out of a long weekend. That's it, no the dog ate my computer or my long lost uncle Ronny has got the clap, just that I have been doing other things.

So what I have been up to I hear you ask? Well to be honest it is Wednesday now and I can't really remember but I will try my best to recreate any excitement from the last few.

As mentioned in a previous blog, Saturday night saw a group of us head to Red Elephant for Andrew AKA Dodgy AKA Old Fiddler's birthday dinner. For those who don't know this is the Thai restaurant in Newton with the massive Red Elephant outside. Anyways, the food was awesome but none more spectacular than Dodgy's entire chicken that came out on a platter in flames. A whole flaming chicken, you don't get a much cooler meal than that. After dinner a few of us went back to Dodgy and Mere's hotel room for a few more drinks then it all went downhill from there.

Aside from some flaming poultry the long weekend consisted of kicking around the house and trying to ensure we have all we need to bring a new little person home. Who knew that something so little would require so much stuff, I am sure the little guy/girl already has more clothes than me and as for baby accessories some of the stuff that we 'must' have is ridiculous. God only knows how mothers and babies survived before some great mind invented a breast pump, that said I am still interested in how the whole breast pump works and don't be surprised if one day out of the blue I confess to having used it.

The other element of preparing a house to be baby ready involves a lot of cleaning. I would not say that I was a clean freak but I do like to have things in order but for some reason our house looked like it had been used to film a scene in a horror film. You know the one where the serial killer is chasing the hot big-breasted woman and she throws crap like pillows or her shirt at him in hopes it will slow him down. On a side note, what is it with people who are being chased and they head upstairs, what sort of an idiot goes upstairs. For fuck sake, if some knife wielding psycho was chasing me around the house I would be out the door. Then once I was outside I would climb a tree and surprise attack the bastard when he followed me out making me a hero and the ultimate dream guy for all hot big-breasted woman who are dumb enough to throw their bras at serial killers.

Anyways, we cleaned the house and now we are ready for the newest addition to come out.

Oh yeah, the other thing I did this weekend was rip the skin of my finger as I was using the waterblaster to clean a screen printing screen. Who knew water could be so damn powerful? And on that I am going to wrap this up, not because I am out of clever and insightful stories to entertain you with but because my finger is starting to smell a bit funky so I better go wash it.

Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, my job is never done.

You want sweet & Sour or BBQ Sauce with that ass bite?

Thank God it is Friday, and the Friday before a long weekend nonetheless. This has been one of those long weeks and no doubt today is going to drag out like your Grandma's boobs when freed from the shackles of her bra.

So we were meant to go away this weekend as it is more than likely the last time we would be able to escape before the baby arrives, unfortunately, the stars aligned and our plans were brought to a grinding halt by an injured Squeak. What happened was basically his tail wasn't working and it just hung like a flaccid piece of hairy meat, which reminds me Happy Birthday Dodgy. Anyway, we took him to the vet and this young Asian dude tells us that it is broken or fractured but he will X-Ray in the morning and best case scenario would be an amputated tail, worst case would by euthanasia. Needless to say it wasn't the happiest night at home. The next day I get a call saying the X-Rays have shown it is just an abscess and all we need is a drain and we can pick up squeak that afternoon tail n' all. Now I am no animal professional but I got to say we were pissed at the first vet. He had instantly jumped to the conclusion that it was broken without even considering other options and when I expressed this to the head vet the next day he was more than apologetic, but hey who knows maybe the Asian guy had a craving for fried cat's tail. Oh yes I went there, come on it was to easy not to. All in good fun.

Obviously this abscess came from the result of a fight but it got me thinking. Imagine if human beings fought like animals. On the news there would be reports showing mongrel mob and black power members clashing and trying to bite each other in the ass of outside nightclubs there would be guys with the collars popped and white snakeskin shoes rolling around on the ground trying to kick each other in the head with both legs. Damn it would make for great TV.

Keeping with that train of thought maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea if we were more like or pets. Life would be much more simplistic and I know I wouldn't mind being able to lick myself all over.

On a completely different note I was reading in the paper the other day that Eminem is about to make a come back. Personally I think this is fantastic news. I am not an avid hip hop listener by any stretch of the imagination but I truly respect this white man's talents plus if his comeback works out well it could be a great time for me to write, record and release a rap album to critical acclaim leading to millions of dollars, plenty of groupies and ten 'fresh whips' in my garage.

I think I am going to wrap this up before I ramble on about any more of my dreams and unveil another layer of my personality onion to the cyberworld. I mean I don't think we have been together enough for me to break out my fantasy involving high heels, jelly and a small Asian mistress called Wing Chow.

If only I had won lotto, I could have gotten me a boob job, a tummy tuck and an MX5

In the words of the infamous Bangles 'It's just another manic Monday, oh woe' and I cannot get going. I want to vent about my one hour drive to work this morning and the people I have to battle on the motorway but I cannot find the words. Well, I can find some words to describe it but when they are pieced together it makes no sense. Let me try again anyways...fuckers, bum sucking trophy wife in her stupid convertible crack whore, learn to indicate you SUV driving, small business owning dipshit, merge like a zip asshat!!! See just can't do it.

Anyways, so I had a bad start to the morning but things did get better throughout the day, shit, if they had got any worse I would probably have been on Nightline as some nutbar threatening to jump off the harbour bridge. Speaking of Nightline I was once on it, for my beautifully grown moustache. It really was a piece of journalistic brilliance by David Farrier, but I guess when you are working with a diamond like me it would be hard not to create beauty. Look I even found you a link to it here. Anyways back to my day. Work was good, lunch was great and then the bloody Tampa Bay Rays beat the Red Sox in game 7 of the ALDC series leaving us one win short of making the World Series, bastards!

With that I called it a day and headed home to crank the BBQ for dinner. Oh yes, it is that time of the year already and I am loving it. I think if I could I would BBQ every night in fact it is a goal of mine to cook pretty much every meal I can over summer on it. Sounds like a challenge...I accept!!!

With all my domestic chores out of the way I am now kicking back on the couch looking for something interesting to watch and what a freakin' surprise, there is nothing decent on. I know there is a Meatloaf special on Prime TV but I will just let Danielle fill me in on that what. That girls seriously has some sort of strange obsession with Meatloaf. I am pretty sure she wouldn't think twice about jumping in the sack with him for a few rounds of hide the sausage. Once again, I digress. So yeah nothing on TV. Maybe I will have to surf the net for porn, you would think after years of watching hand jobs, blow jobs, snowballs and the rest I would have started to get bored of porn, or at least seen most of it which is out there to offer, but you would be wrong, that is the great thing about the internet. There is always some dirty little minx out there wanting to upload a video of her whacking of some overweight bugger in the backseat of a car and it seems as fast as I watch it they manage to upload more for my viewing pleasure, it really is a great system.

That is about it, I was going to write something about the Diwali Festival we went to in the weekend and the drinks that Meredith and Danielle brought that looked as thought they had whale sperm in them (Danielle's words not mine) or about how Extreme Makeover was on early and I am pretty sure Paul would be crying at it but to be honest I can't be bothered and I am having some trouble keep any train of thought for more that 5 minutes.

Yeah I am bored, unfocused and thirsty so till next time, peace.

You have never seen me in this? Really, I always wear this black hooded cloak

You know how everyone has at times had that feeling that they have been put on this earth for some greater good. It may be that you think your purpose in life is to save the whales or to find a cure for cancer or to somehow rid the world of those weird old dudes who sit in bus stops with their tally whackers out for the school girls to see. Either way, everyone at some point thinks they are here for something more than a normal life. Over the last two days I think I have discovered my calling in life and to be honest I don't think I am that comfortable with it...I may have been put on this earth to serve as the grim reaper of birds.

Let me explain. The last two days after work we have come home to find a live bird in our kitchen. Turns out our cats enjoy catching them, bringing them inside and then leaving them inside completely unharmed. Well the first bird was just a baby, not a feather on it, kind of looked like a naked mole rat with a beak. Unfortunately I didn't know where this bird came from so I had to do the most humane thing possible, I drowned it. Apparently it is not a bad way to go, so they say. I am not sure who they are but I am guessing it is someone who has drowned. Then, last night we came home to a full grown bird sitting in shock in a pot on our bench. If money gets any tighter this would have been great cos dinner prep would already have been done, luckily things aint that bad yet, plus we were going to my parents for dinner. Anyways, I had heard that putting birds in dark places helps them calm down so I moved the whole pot under a teas towel and put it under the house. The plan was to let the bird free when we got home from dinner. Well everything was going to plan, we ate dinner at Mum and Dad's, meatloaf you know, then when we got home the bird had disappeared. I thought that maybe it had escaped and was once again soaring through the sky with it's little bird buddies telling them about this great saviour on earth named Martin. Truth be told he had just jumped out of the pot into a container of screen printing emulsion, which to those who don't know is just like blue PVA glue. I tried in vain to clean the bird off but it was a lost cause and I had to pull out the bucket again.

Now the reason I am writing about this is not to brag about having a purpose is life but to offer this purpose to anyone who may want it. If this sounds like you then let me know you can be the new Grim Reaper of our feathered friends.

Aside from striking fear in winged creatures all over the world I have just been working hard this week, and sleeping a lot. Maybe it is my body trying to stock pile hours of sleep before the arrival of Baby or maybe I am just becoming lazier in my old age but either which way I am all for sleeping right now.

With bird slaying and sleeping taking up most of my free time I have had very little time to focus on reading. In fact, the last time I read any of my wife prescribed literature was a good month or so ago so maybe I should find some time this weekend or if anyone can summarise fatherhood in a few sentences I would be forever grateful.

With that I am off to eat some dinner and no doubt fall asleep on the couch....again.

Chur

are you going to finish that?

Looks like I have now got my cyberspace rhythm and will be updating this mighty display of prose three times a week. Sometimes it might be four times, others it may only be two but either way it will always be entertaining and informative. That reminds me of a shirt I once saw that i really wanted to get for my friend Kelly cos she is a word nerd, it was a picture of Shakespeare with the phrase "Prose Before Hoes", great shirt.

Anyways, on with the show. What has been going on. For some reason on Saturday I thought it would be a good idea to trim back a few of the neighbours plants that have slowly been encroaching on our driveway. With hedge clippers in hand I made quick work of the trespassing fauna and then I made the mistake of carrying on around the front of the house. Long story short, the next two hours were spent in the garden hacking down hedges, trees and anything else that got in my way, I even worked up a manly sweat so did the sexy topless gardener thing. I was kind of hoping some dirty little tart like Eva Longoria would come along and have her way with me just like she does on TV but instead I had to settle for Paul and Kat pointing and laughing.

That night Mere, Paul, Kat and I went to the Bluestone Room for dinner, thanks to some vouchers from me Ma-In-Law. It is a pretty cool bar with a kind of underground vibe about it. And by underground I don't mean like the cool kids underground scene I mean actually buried under the ground. Anyways, dinner was good except for the fact I had a pot of ribs that was literally just that, a pot of ribs soaked in barbeque sauce. Let's just say they were awesome going down but when they quickly decided to come out it wasn't the most pleasant drive home.

Sunday I continued with my male duties around the house and put together an outdoor table that we got as a wedding present. I then cut down some cork board to go under the mattress in the baby's bassinet and managed to cut the newly put together table whilst doing this. Mere says I get to involved in the task i am doing and forgot about things around me, I think the table moved. I also managed to finally nail down my screen printing exposure time on Sunday and ran off a couple of test prints so I am quietly chuffed with myself about that. Between Baby and screen printing my empire is slowly growing, I suggest you get in behind me now before it is too late and I smite your ass.

So yeah, my weekend was full of masculine chores which also cement my position as the ruler of the house.

Now it is Wednesday and so far this week has been pretty much the same as any other. Mere has only got 8 days left of work before maternity leave and my work is incredibly full on with end of year exhibitions, new TV ads and marketing to organise. last night we had our antenatal class and found out that one of the couples who had been going have skipped to the end and already had their baby, dirty cheats. That aside, last night was all about breastfeeding and even though it was essentially a 2 hour conversation about boobs not once was I turned on. In my younger years even being within five metres of some boobs or in earshot of girls with boobs talking about anything would have given me a blood reducing hard-on hidden only by my grey schoolboy shorts. Nowadays it takes a bit more, maybe I have just been spoilt.

Moving on.

The remainder of the week sees no solid plans booked in which I am stoked about. I am all about kicking back and relaxing right now. I now I should be in the garage on my exercycle trying to get my some of my excess fat to fall off and release the sex god body underneath but things like cold beer, the sun and general laziness are really doing their part to hinder my efforts.

Time to finish this up and go do some real work but before I do here are a few things that get a double thumbs up from me this week:

The Lawrence Arms - quite possibly the best band in the world
NW Water - so damn good
Burger King vege burger - onion ring'tastic
XBox

Yeah so the other night I was so wasted at this party with some celebrities and you wouldn't belive what happened...

Finally it is Friday, this week seems as though it has dragged on no end. It is not that I haven't been busy, quite the opposite actually I have been working like a slave in the cotton fields being whipped by one of them southern "gentleman" who always have such nice suits.

Either way, it is finally the weekend. A weekend that will consist of pretty much no great excitement. Shit, if I could I would probably sit around the house in my pyjamas watching crappy TV waiting for midday so I could sit around the house in my pyjamas watching crappy TV and drinking beer. Alas, this is but a dream, my plans consist of mowing the lawns, de-moulding the house and some other menial tasks, ahhh, the life I lead.

Aside from general house husbandry plans I am going to try and squeeze in some more screen printing and this time, hopefully, I will get it right so I can begin my empire. Of course this empire will be starting small, with some kick ass baby clothes but soon I will be moving up to larger garments and who knows one day my gears could be worn by such celebrities as Savage and Brooke Howard Smith. Speaking of Brooke Howard Smith, how much of a complete tool is that guy? Fuckin' douche.

So yeah, back to Friday night mine has involved toasted sandwiches, tea and Madden 2006 on XBox. This may not sound too exciting, and you may be right, but when compared to Mere's, which has seen her watching Rent I would say I am pretty damn rock n roll. What the hell is up with this movie/musical Rent? From what I can gather it is about a few lesbians and some gay dudes, all of whom may or may not do heroin and have aids, who like to run around New York City singing overly long songs about nothing every other bloody minute.

Before I sign off and go do some drawing I want to tell you about a bumper sticker we saw on the way home tonight. No Woman Deserves To Be Raped. No shit Sherlock! What sort of bumper sticker is that? Come on, if we were going to get bumper stickers for things as obvious as that watch out for me cruising down the motorway with a "Petrol's Not Cheap", "I wish I didn't have to work" and "Tits are great" stickers adorning my car.

Have a good one and I will no doubt ramble on here later this weekend.

Um, excuse me sir, your balls are hanging out of that dress

Let me start with apologising for my recent lack of commitment to beer, sandwiches & parenthood. I wish I had a great excuse like a tiny troop of black jockeys came along and kidnapped me to provide their tiny wives with sexual pleasure unfortunately the truth is I have just been to lazy.

However, it would be kind of cool to be the pleasurer of tiny women because their small hands would make my dong look massive.

Anyway, I digress. Since I last wrote life has been rolling on quite smoothly. Meredith and I had another massive Friday night where I think we stayed up past 10:30, had a cup of tea and 2, not 1 but 2, shrewsberries each. Saturday saw our only weekend antenatal class where they arranged for a real life baby to be brought along so we could get an idea of what our little sprouts might look like. Afterwards we went to Danielle's new place to help her unpack, and by unpack I mean I rummaged through her belongings, laughed at old photos of her and her former lovers and discreetly decorated the house with various things I found.

Later that night I left the one who is with child at Dan's place and went and caught up with Dodgy, Boldis and Paul for a boys night out. Of course the evening pretty much consisted of drinking and ripping into each nonetheless I still learnt a few things thing. firstly, I think I am too old and too damn bitter to go into town. Don't get me wrong, I love going to a pub/bar for drinks but when it comes to so-called nightclubs I am just not feeling it. Between the shitfaced 16 year old girls and the guys who look like 16 year old girls there isn't really a lot of species appeal to the clubs and when you throw in one fat fuck bouncer who hasn't seen his dick in 10 years it pretty much completes the trifecta of retardation. The second lesson, Burger King staff cannot handle mass drunken crowds. Sit down and let old Mr. Street explain. A normal weekend night sees Burger King full of boozers wanting some hot beef, not the same sort of hot beef as the previously mentioned shitfaced 16 year old girls were hunting but anyways. This is when you pick out the most nervous looking little Indian behind the counter and make your move, your move being ordering a burger. Next step aside and let the rest of the drunks swamp the little guy with their orders. Now the next step is the key. You don't want to come across too aggressive or too drunk so stay cool soldier. When he passes you your bag open it up immediately, glance back at him with a confused look on your face and ask where your chips are. Be aware he may push back telling you that you only ordered a burger but keep it cool and calm and insist you are right and with the lion's share of drunks still waiting to be served he wont argue too much and will flick you some free fries. Hell, next time I am going to push for fries, a drink and an extra burger

My mind is now catching up with my fingers and I just want to retreat the previously mentioned point about me becoming an old man. Unsurprisingly, a lot of people question my age, due to my baby like skin however despite my good looks I admit that I am starting to feel the effects of time. Be it a few too many beers one night or rubbing one too many out over my much outdated Baywatch calendar, my body seems to want me to slow down. It is not just the sneaky aches and pains that have alerted me to St. Anthony of Padua sneaking up on me but also what I find fun. Shit, when I was born things like being under a blanket or dribbling on the cat were probably the highlight of my day. Nowadays, I am shaking my fist at the bloody boy racer I once was, yelling at drunken girls I once would have tried to slip a digit in and generally just being a miserable old fucker. Still one thing hasn't changed, a good dribble on the cat is still a bit of a laugh.

I better watch out or else this blog might turn into something very similar to the rantings of some old buggers in a rest home.

Time to move onto something with a little less whinge factor. Ummmm, the Red Sox won the ALDC so now it is just Tampa Bay standing in the way of another World Series appearance. On that note, will someone please get interested in baseball so I can have someone to drink beers and eat corn chips with come game times.

OK, I can feel my brain getting tired now and I don't want this entry to turn into something that looks as though it was written by a fingerless vagrant so I will wrap it up with one of the best stories I have heard in a long time.

On Monday morning our receptionist came into work a bit late as she was trying to sort out a broken window in her car from Saturday night when someone broke into her car. Turns out not only had this guy broken into her car and ripped her stereo out of the dash but he had then gone onto pass out in the front seat. When her flatmate woke her up in the morning after finding the sleepy thief they called the cops who woke the guy up with a quick clip around the ear and some pepper spray. Needless to say she got her stuff back and the guy has a date with a judge in a few weeks.

With that I am off to have a nap

Like sand through an hourglass...

As I sit here at my desk I have begun to ponder the various days of the week. Today is Thursday, a day that could be clarified as a bit of a nothing day. It is neither mid week, the weekend or a hump day, it is just Thursday. Growing up at school Thursday would have been the quiet kid at the back of the class that kept to themselves, not an over or under achiever or overtly weird, just kind of there, you know.

Keeping with this train of though I figured that Monday's are the most hated days, or the smelly ginger kid who eats way too much cheese. Tuesdays are the day in which we all just accept our fate as lowly worker ants, or the school bully who steals your lunch and there is nothing you can do about, even hiding in the toilets wont work. Wednesdays are the first bit of light in the week, not the greatest day but far from the most hated, or the kind of cute girl in maths who you would like to shag but would much rather go a nude round or two her hot & slutty best friend. Then we hit Thursday, the nothing day, the quiet kid who just slips through life. Friday is excitement, it is the last day of another dull working week and all your focus is on the upcoming weekend, or your new best friend once your real best friend has moved from the neighbourhood, the kind of kid who is great to hang out with but if you could you would much rather have your old best mate back. Saturday would have to be the most popular day, the day where you can do whatever you want or Wednesday's hot & slutty friend who you can do whatever you want to. As for Sunday, this one can go either way. Option one is you can fell bummed that in 24 hours you will be back with that cheese smelling ginger bastard again or Option two is you can spend the day kicking back nothing at and loving it, or that first girl who let you touch her boobs, you know the one who was fun to be around one day and then the next a complete cow.

Wow, I have pondered that for far too long, time to get down to business.

On Tuesday night we had out antenatal class and aside from the normal birthing shenanigans there were a couple of interesting things that happened. Firstly, we watched a little documentary on natural births that was made by non-other than Ricki Freakin' Lake. Overall it was just another birthing video, although this one contain no up the jaxy shots and exploding water bags. I always wondered what happened to Ricki once her talk show got the boot. I just assumed she follow her love of being a bit rampant tart but it appears she may have kept her belly in the production game making such high quality 'films' as this one. The second interesting thing that happened was that i got to wear the pregnancy sympathy suit. Basically this is just like one of those fat sumo suits you see at fairs except it is full of water to give you that slight feeling of baby kicks and you put a small bag on the inside to press on your bladder. From this experience I can see where the loss of balance and coordination comes from and I am now truly amazed at how few times pregnant Mere has fallen over recently. Before leaving this week's antenatal class alone there is one fact I want to share. The birth canal is the first time a baby is introduced to bacteria, so if a woman has a cesarean birth it is sometimes recommended that the new mother reach down between her legs, get some fanny fluids on her hand and rub it on the baby. I am not shitting you about this, I swear this is what the lady running our class told us, granted it may not have been as delicately put as I have just done but the message is the same and if you wanted me to break it down even more I could simply say, 'Vaginas. Natures Bacteria Slide'.

So yeah, Thursdays, I guess you could say are a day in which my mind runs a little bit more loosely.

I think that using a urinal at the same time as others can tell you a lot about those people. For example, my work shares this building with a number of different science based organisations and whenever I am in the toilet and one of them comes in they either do one of two things. They head straight to a cubicle, lock themselves in and go for a pee and before you ask I know they are peeing cos you can hear them. this tells me they are either shy or are not so sure if they need to pee and don't want to stand there with their tally whacker in their hands doing nothing. If they do not go for the cubicle option they step up on the urinal, mumble some sort of greeting and then stand as close to the aluminium wall as possible. This tells me they are either incredibly humbled by my massive wanger or scientists have figured out a way to pee without ever being hit by splash back. My other urinal observation is 95% of guys, and I am one of them, will look at the roof, or at least quite high up the wall, when someone else is next to them using the facilities. What is all this about, are we scared the guy next to us will think we are a gay if we look at our own diddle or is that if we look down there is a small chance we may catch a glimpse of a sausage that is not our own?

Before I wrap this ranting mess up I want to share one more thing. Over the last few months I have developed this real problem, and it is one that I cannot put down to anything except possible male baby brain. Every time I go to the toilet I seem to forget to do up my fly afterwards. I know this happens to everyone occasionally but this is happening to me more than not lately. A month or so ago I took Millie down to the local playground and when I got back Mere pointed out that I had been 'that guy' down the park playing with kids whilst my fly was down. Today I had a meeting with a major sponsor of the school and his national marketing manager which i thought went really well until I came back in the office and Jesse, my co-worker, pointed out I was flying low, which meant I had been that way the entire meeting and campus tour, top bloody stuff.

I am going to sign off now and try to think of a solution to my fly dilemma that is slightly cooler than Jesse's idea of me wearing elastic waistband trackies.

Later days.

Fanny Bombs

So yeah I just realised it had been a few days since I had in left some rantings on this page and as I am at home on the couch this afternoon, due to the flu, I thought it was best I get to it.  However I am assuming these small lulls in my writings may become more regular once Baby Street ventures out from the uterus.

As I cough, sniff and stretch out here on the couch watching 'Herbie Goes To Monte Carlo' (an absolute film tragedy) I am trying to figure out if there is one particular factor that may have caused me to be hit by the flu for a second time.  I mean I am aware that my partying lifestyle could cause my body to be a little bit more susceptible to infection but I don't think that is it?  Maybe it could be the fact I never finished the first round of antibiotics or maybe it is just bad luck.  Either way being sick is no picnic and one of the most annoying things has got to be being unable to stick with one train of thought for more than 30 seconds.

Aside from the flu yesterday was just another Monday complete with traffic, work, traffic and sleep.  Today on the other hand will see a slightly more energetic for Team Street with a midwife appointment and then our third antenatal class.

On the subject of antenatal class I have to admit it is not as bad as I initially dreaded.  The lady who leads the class is pretty relaxed and the rest of the couples seem to be pretty cool too.  I guess the one thing that I am still not sold on is the videos, granted we have only watched one, and it was apparently not the graphic one, but still I don't think I will be asking for copies to take home.  For example last week we watched a video of a woman giving birth, funny that, and between the cheesy music, slow motion screams and atmospheric mood lighting the camera suddenly cuts to a shot of hairy fanny and a bag of water flying out from her downtown regions and then exploding.  Now, I am well aware that this is just one of natures little wonders nonetheless I am still not psyched on having to watch some random lady's privates drop a water bomb up close and personal.

With that I am off to pop a few more pills and try to get my brain to function in a somewhat normal manner before tonight's class.

Peace

Teriyaki tofu, the warriors and a new tattoo

The weekend, my two favourite days of the week. After our hard partying Friday night Meredith and I rose on Saturday feeling surprising chipper and headed out to look at an open home in Glenfield. We had seen the house online and it looked in good condition and with nice open living, the one thing though that the ad forgot to mention was that the section was subdivided and there was very little room between the homes. We decided instead of sitting around we would give it a miss.

On the way home we stopped off at a car dealer that specialises in classic imports and I found a beautiful caddie so if anyone has a spare 20K I would be forever thankful.

Saturday afternoon saw a trip to Sacred tattoo where I finally got my 'North Shore' tattoo and then across to Renkon Japanese for dinner where I tried the much raved about teriyaki tofu and I have to say the meat free meal was bloody good.

By this stage of the day, and remember we had had a huge Friday night, we were both pretty shattered but that didn't stop us heading down to Ma and Pa Street's house to watch the Warriors get convincingly beaten in their NRL semi final.

So all of that brings us to Sunday. Sweet sunny Sunday, God's day, a day of relaxation. With daylight savings kicking in last night we didn't even get out of bed till just before 11am, which could have easily been later however we had to get up to help the Bell sisters move some stuff into their new house. This little task turned out to be a bit more exciting than I had anticipated as the girls had roped in plenty of hands to help and the saying 'too many cooks in the kitchen' definitely rung true. Too top it off the current tenants in the new house obviously had no problems smoking copious amounts of weed inside.

With our good deed for the day completed we headed home to kick back, catch up with family and enjoy some sun before the working week begins.

Before I finish up though I did want to state my latest observations. This time around they come from watching 'America's Funniest Home Videos'. Firstly, where the hell do they get their audience? do they lease them from some sort of insane asylum? is it just a few loads of short bus passengers? They all sit there in their best outfits smiling, laughing and clapping at the hosts lame jokes and in some cases, crap videos. Secondly, why is it whenever there is a video featuring a kid either playing sport, doing karate or just hanging out in the lounge, it always ends with the Dad getting some form of pelvic abuse? This abuse can be a kick, a punch, a baseball, anything? I wonder if I need to buy a cup when baby is born?

and that's all I got, time to go grab a beer and kick back in the sun. Till next time...

Like Beer and Pretzels, Pregnancy and Partying are the ultimate combo

Finally it is the weekend. Considering I only worked 3 out of 5 days this week I dont know why I am particularly happy about being off for the weekend but why question a good thing. So after my last post being a virtual brain spew of negativity I am going to try and keep this one on the poisitve side of the ledger.

After an extremely productive day at work, and I say that with no sarcasm, seriously I was pumped on how much I achieved, Meredith and I headed home to chill out. Now a lot of people think that expecting parents have to give up their social lives, well to prove that this is an entirely false staement I will outline our Friday night. Once we arrived home I cracked a beer and kicked back on the couch as we got our nightly Home and Away fix. From here we went to Albany Mall where we got an Oporto Chicken burger combo each for dinner before heading to The Warehouse we we both splashed on on some new pyjamas. New freakin' pyjamas, that's right we are living large!!! Next it was home to the couch for another beer whilst I flicked between the comic brilliance of Rove and New Zealand's Got Talent, we really don't, Mere played on the internet.

Now it is Saturday morning and we are both feeling a little tired after staying up well past 10pm, and by well I mean a good 15 minutes, but that hasn't stopped us getting to the couch for a nice herbal tea and some infomercials.

With that indisputable proof of pregnant couples still living large I am going to wrap this up as I think it is my turn in the shower.

Party!

What the fuck is happening?

Everytime I turn on the radio or watch the 6 o'clock news I cannot escape the numerous reports covering pointless and cowardly violent crimes. Without sounding like the weird old guy who sits outside the supermarket all day, it really wasn't that long ago that New Zealand was a relatively safe place, an ideal place to raise a family and live your life. Nowadays our little slice of heaven is a breeding ground for wannabe thugs, drug addicts and various other human waste.

Now before you go an accuse me of being naive and only noticing this surge in violence because of media coverage let me assure you I have never been someone to take the media's word as gospel, if anything you could call me a media cynic. I appreciate that in some cases violent stories are being covered to increase ratings however I do not accept that the violent crime rate is steady and it is a case of the public just hearing about more of these incidents.

The fact of the matter is New Zealand is slowly, but surely being dragged down, and not only by our very own breed of scumbags but also by the beaurucrats that allow them to continue to reoffend time and time again.

I mean come on, I can gaurantee you that at least 90% of these assholes who commit these hennious crimes are not first time offenders. In most cases they will probably have a long criminal history all pointing to the fact that one day they will perpatrate a headline grabbing crime.

When I was going through school the worst you were going to get was maybe a few punches in the head at school or a kick in the head at a weekend party, but now it seems that it is no longer a gentlemans world out there, gone are the days of one on one, it is all about gang mentality and this type of sect thinking results in much more severe beatings and tragic results.

So where am I going with this all to familar rant, well to be honest I don't really know. I don't have an answer, well not one that wouldn't violate the violators human rights and get the UN up in arms. I don't have a magic wand that I can wave to stop the never ending cycle of family violence. What I do know is that I am about to be a Father and this increasing random violence scares the hell out of me.

Maybe with elections coming up the government will finally begin to listen? Maybe tougher sentencing will become the norm? Maybe schools will begin to include self defence in the curriculum? or maybe some renegade type will come along and cleanse the country? hey it could happen.

Anyway, enough of this depressing topic let me finish with some of lifes finer things that I have been enjoying...

1 - The new Gaslight Anthem album. This is one of the most solid releases I have heard in a long, long time.

2 - Leftover chilli nachos for lunch. the only thing better than chilli nachos for dinner is the leftovers the next day

3 - A surprise tattoo appointment. So I was checking through my work diary on Monday and found I have a booking for this Saturday, not a bad start to the week

4 - Family Guy. Seriously, how good is this show?

Cyberspace Property Development

I have always been someone who has got a lot to say, granted most of it may be completely off topic or incomprehensible but nonetheless I still have a lot to say.

As I have grown I have found that my views and opinions are not always inline with mainstream society and have learnt that sometimes it is better to bite my tongue. Problem with this is that I find my mind to be like a pressure cooker and even though I may suppress the urge to rant in particular circles I still need to release my thoughts in one form or another.

Enter, the internet, and more specifically blogspot. This is the perfect place for me to leave my opinions, thoughts, sex advice, pictures, reviews and anything else that may need to be expelled from my brain.

Another reason for deciding to open a blogspot account now is that it seems like a good as time as any to start to chronicle my life and my experiences especially with my wife being seven months pregnant.

So with a sore throat resulting in a day off work and my 2009 marketing budget almost complete I decided to join the mass of bloggers and finally create a place in cyberspace dedicated to my brain farts.