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.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, October 20, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, October 17, 2008
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
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
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
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
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
Friday, October 10, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
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
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
Thursday, October 2, 2008
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.
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.
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