Archive for April, 2002

I downloaded AVG Anti-Virus and

I downloaded AVG Anti-Virus and recommend it highly to everyone. The only problem is that if you want it to scan your email (incoming and outgoing) you have to be using Outlook or Outlook Express. Bummer. Since my virus infection at the beginning of the year I’ve been using Netscape 6.2.

No more to say as today, like each Tuesday, is work/university for 15 hours. As you could probably gather, I don’t really feel like doing anything except eating and going to bed after 15+ hours on the go.

Entries have been getting a

Entries have been getting a little lean here lately. Tonight will probably make up for that. This weekend I decided NOT to turn my computer on, well to be accurate, NOT to connect to the internet as I have too many assignments due this week. I thought that if my life was enjoyable in the early nineties without needing to read 7 newspapers from 7 different countries, check my email (normally just to delete spam) and update an online diary, it might just be possible to enjoy one weekend without knowing what the world around me was doing/saying. Guess what? I survived without going online.Woohoo!

Richmond got hammered for the second weekend in a row. SHIT! I know one blogger out there (virulent memes) will be a happy lad though. His team beat Richmond. Arggh! If anybody picked all eight games this week in their footy tips at work, they deserve to be crowned, sat down in a throne and be hand fed tuscan grapes for a week.

Last week I went to my favourite Melbourne pub. I always take a good friend with me because it’s a pub pub. You know, the kind of pub you wnat to keep secret but love to let a few close friends know about. It’s in Collingwood, in a backstreet, there’s no poker machines and there’s beer, beer and beer. There’s no modern furniture. Just stools and tables straight out of the 1940’s. There’s old men reminiscing, young people chatting, accountants reading about tax law and Chopper Read. Yep. He’s moved back to Melbourne. And he’s in my favourite pub. And he is not very good at singing karaoke to Neil Diamond tracks. They left that bit out of the movie.

A Masturbate-A-Thon? (via wnp) If I had a dollar for every…

The weekend was topped off last night with one of the best BBQ’s I’ve been to in a long time. I was only there for 3 hours but it was fantastic. Not that there was much excitement, but I went there knowing nobody (except my partner) and leaving knowing them very well. It was a reunion BBQ for 5 friends who had known each other for years but not seen each other since they left Charles Sturt Uni., Bathurst in the mid-90’s. And boy do those Bathurstians like their meat!

Here we go. If Le

Here we go. If Le Pen owned a business it would have to be a business of the fish and chip variety.

Another talented blogger pulls up

Another talented blogger pulls up the stumps. As to how a blog can wreak havoc with your personal life…I can only suggest that there are some things better left in your head. The world can only take so much of our thoughts and opinions I suppose. Also, too much redesigning can be very hard on your social life.

Nothing to say today. After 14 hours of work ans University I am going to lie on some metal springs and put my head on some duck feathers. Goodnight!

I must be doing something

I must be doing something right. I’ve outlived another hero from my angsty years. Layne Staley. But here’s a weird story. Last Friday night I had an argument with my gurlyfriend. I thought that he had died a few months back. I swore I had heard it on the news/yoof network/Triple R. Bea (name of gurlyfriend) told me I was imagining things and that the last grunge-era musician to die was Shannon Hoon from Blind Melon. I forgot all about this pointless conversation until John Saffran ripped off a few smart-arse comments about the event on Triple R this morning. A strange co-incidence.

You can just smell war approaching when the world starts shifting to the right. Le Pen has done very well in France. So well that the Socialist candidate, Lionel Jospin, has quit. And Parisians have let their feelings show the only way they know how.

In 1999 I was in Paris when chefs demonstrated against a new tax on restaurant meals. It was a bizarre sight. They threw rotten egg and flour bombs at police, launched cakes in slingshots and threw wine bottles full of pee. Hardly any of them could stand up straight either. I’m sure they were all drunk. Unfortunately I didn’t have a camera with me that day. Bummer!

Read the last paragraph of this blog entry. I always wondered how modern medicine avoids making mistakes in the operating theatre. Now we all know.

That’s right, I have a

That’s right, I have a blog to update. Silly me.

With University work, a BAS to lodge and general homemaking to take care of, I’m finding it hard to make time for this blog. I feel like a redesign actually. But a redesign is no point unless there’s content worth redesigning for. Did you catch that? I just confused myself with that last sentence.

Once again the Big Brother phenomenon is chugging away on Australian television sets. The Age has an interesting article on the subject, focusing mainly on the marketing side of things. Personally, I find the most disturbing part is the disapperance of creativity in television production. You don’t need creative minds to produce anything if 10 fuckwits are quite willing to bicker, root and gossip their way to stardom. May the Big Brother house burn down early tomorrow morning lilling all the contestants. That may be the only episode I wouldn’t miss.

Last night I ventured to Colonial Stadium and saw Brisbane defeat the Western Bulldogs. I hate the Bulldogs (hatred of an AFL club is a different kind of hate) and always let my feelings show at footy games. Unfortunately middle-aged Bulldogs supporters don’t hold ‘freedom of speech’ as an important part of their lives. In between sips of red wine (from plastic cups) they asked me to stop being so abusive of their team. Bad move. That only encouraged me. After 20 minutes of the game the bitch (female Bulldogs supporter) said to her husband, "Let’s get away from these un-Australian hooligans". They moved 3 rows forward and 10 seats across. I just had to yell even louder. They ended up leaving before the end of the game anyway, much to my enjoyment and that of my fellow spectators as well.

I can take criticism. But being called "un-Australian" and a "hooligan" for getting involved in the emotion at a footy game shows that there are more than a few intolerant imbeciles around. But I mustn’t be to harsh. They were Bulldogs fans and they were drinking red wine at a footy game.

Someone arrived at this page

Someone arrived at this page after searching for ‘cost of food at an AFL match.’ Here’s your answer. $3.80 for 425mls of beer (200mls after you been bumped by drunks and midgets on the way back to your seat), $3.20 for a cold pie and sauce, well over $3 for a large softdrink (might as well get pissed) and $3 for a small bucket of soggy chips. My tip - take cheese and vegemite sandwiches.

Balthazar Garzon. A Spanish judge with a grudge. Now Henry Kissinger is within his sights. Viva Balthazar.

Hmmm. Bored? How about looking at the Museum of the Stapler. Who needs net porn when you’ve got hundreds of staplers to ogle.

A quote lifted from the technology section of The Age is a little bit worrying. "The survey found children do not distinguish between content and advertising."

What I would give for a 30 hour day. 24 hours is not long enough. Instead of spending so much money on war, peace, the environment and all that crap, let’s figure out how to slow down the spin of the earth. Imagine how much more you could get done.

Grouse has done it again!

Grouse has done it again! Apparently the difference between a straight man and a gay man is six beers. Don’t believe me? Click here for scientific proof. Irrefutable.

The ‘children overboard’ issue won’t go away. If this article doesn’t start to make people look deeper and ask serious questions I’ll be amazed.

Something tells me I had better get ready to be amazed.

Neighbours can be interesting. But nobody has a more interesting neighbour than Carlos (via everyone). Make sure you check out the backyard blaze! I almost shat myself laughing while reading this.

Another slap in the face

Another slap in the face for persecuted people. Good on ‘ya Howard. The governments of the west have some explaining to do on this one. Maybe governments like ours don’t want a true War Crimes Tribunal because chances are most western leaders would be the first to be jailed.

Chuck little Johnny in the clink with Slobodan and see who comes to papa.

Work, Uni, eat, blog, sleep. That’s my life this week so don’t bother emailing me. You won’t get a response until mid-next week.

<politics> Morals of a brothel.

<politics>

Morals of a brothel. This Guardian article deals with the ‘free trade’issue.

</politics>

I’m having a mental health day today and for the next 3 Mondays. As a result of the accrual of around 9 weeks of leave, I’m taking the oppotunity to have several long weekends. Every employer I’ve had gets nervous when they realise how many holidays I have owing. They always assume the worst. That I’m going to quit, take a big payout and piss off overseas. They’re generally correct in this assumption too.

Earliest memories. True to my form, my earliest memory is at around age 4. Everything before that is blank. I think I stand a grand chance of being an alien! Gaffaw!

This looks a little suspicious.

This looks a little suspicious. Maybe this is the liberal government’s new initiative to return those pesky refugees. Honestly, this story is impressive. It’s about time Australia hosted a space program. I must admit though that when I read the summary of the above link I assumed that launching fare paying passengers into space would be done by one of those reverse-bungy thingamagigs.

Are you ever bored on a Sunday morning? How about watching 3 hours of Southpark? The wonders of cable television never cease to amaze me. As does the things the creators of Southpark get away with. Especially the NAMBLA episode.

I too had a hard time explaining what a Nikko Pen was when I moved to Victoria from Brisbane. Calling a potato cake a scallop, a school bag a port and all the variations of describing swimwear (swimmers, togs, cozzies etc.) makes you realise how big Australia really is.

Whoah. Occasionally I run short

Whoah. Occasionally I run short of cash but I have never run so low that my lunch consists of a microwaved potato at work. (tip - steal tiny pieces of other workmates’ lunches, ie. cheese toppings, garnish, rice, communal fridge butter and tomato sauce, and turn your humble spud into a culinary masterpiece)

Update: The Twelve Commandments have been delivered.

Top 5 places to stash pistachio shells while shopping in a supermarket -
1. Pocket.
2. Inside an iceberg lettuce.
3. Inserted into a packet of OMO.
4. In the ‘comments’ box. (Does any supermarket manager read them anyway?)
5. On the floor with the chewed gum, molten chocolate coated penauts, two-day-old clinkers, spilt Windex™, broken mayonnaise bottles and half-eaten four’n twenty pies.