It’s the 1st July. We’re half way through the year already and just look how far we’ve come. I need to go back over the list of things that I wanted to achieve this year. It’s important to have goals. Give you something to strive for. Some encouragement to get out of bed every day. Not that I really need encouragement to get me out of bed. All you need is a three year old. That’ll do the trick.
I actually have only one item on my list:
1. Make a list of things I want to achieve this year.
I haven’t ticked it off yet, but it’s early days. I’ve got plenty of time. It’s still in the planning phase. You have to start these things with a plan. It’s a good indicator of how much better your project was going to be compared to how it actually turned out.
You know, I don’t want to set myself up for failure. I could easily make a list of 100 things I want to achieve this year, but then we’re talking maybe only 1% to 2% success rate. And that’s only if I include ‘Fart’ and ‘Scratch My Balls’ as items on the list. It needs to be more realistic. More achievable.
Maybe start small. Well I can put ‘Fart’ and……ok now I can put ‘Scratch My Balls’ on the list. I could definitely put ‘Pick My Nose’ up there. I don’t really have any great desire to achieve ‘Burp’, but it’s a great padder for the list so I will put that on there. I have been gaining weight at a rate of knots, so I could go for the old faithful. The one that everyone puts on their list. My ideal weight is 85Kg so I would need to gain another 900 grams. I can do that.
But you also have to strive. Challenge yourself. So I could put something a little more difficult to achieve on the list. Something I can’t do in my sleep. Now let’s see. I haven’t exercised much this year. I could increase my exercise regime. I could double it. Now I managed to do two work outs with my weights before I had a run in with a snake. So I am sure I could do another two before the end of the year. Let’s see how the list is going so far:
1. Fart
2. Scratch My Balls
3. Pick My Nose
4. Burp
5. Gain Weight
6. Work Out With Weights (x2)
Nice. However I noticed that the increase in exercise will result in a decrease in weight. I need to scratch number 6. Or…instead of lifting weights, I could lift some take away burgers. I will still maintain mobility of my arms and I could gain the weight in the process. I could eat more KFC.
OK now it looks like I am getting somewhere. I am sure I could make a list of 10 achievable goals. What if I was to plan a trip somewhere. It would have to be somewhere not too far away cos I have to be back for work. Close to home and not too expensive……Happy Hour at the pub! That can be number 7 on the list.
I think I want to do something for the environment this year. Living in Central Queensland the biggest environmental issue we’re all faced with is drought. Admittedly the town I live in does not have water restrictions, but does that mean that I shouldn’t be doing my bit for the environment and saving water? I think not. In an effort to improve our life here on earth, I am going to use less water. That’s number 8.
9 and 10 I think are by far the most important goals I will strive for this year. With the way the world is today, more and more relationships are failing. This is for two main reasons. Lack of sleep and an unsatisfactory sex life. My primary goals this year will be to maintain my relationship with my wife. I must place a great deal of focus on both of these blockers if I am going to succeed. Ok so now I have 10 major goals for the year. All of which I think are achievable. Let’s see how it looks.
1. Fart
2. Scratch My Balls
3. Pick My Nose
4. Burp
5. Gain Weight
6. Eat More KFC
7. Get Pissed
8. Shower Only Once A Week
9. Hit The Missus Up For A Quickie
10. Roll Over And Go Straight To Sleep
And there you have it. A very real list of goals that are not too difficult to achieve. A real man’s guide to a happy and successful life.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Not eggs-actly a good start to the morning.
You have to admire the boys ingenuity. Every Friday night I make the same mistake. I think “Oh great it’s the weekend. I can have a bit of a sleep-in tomorrow morning. Might allow myself to stay up a little later tonight.”
Not a great idea. Yeah I had fun last night. The boy fell asleep on the lounge nice and early. The missus was out to all hours of the night (In fact I better go check and see if she’s home yet) so I had the place to myself.
Time to be a Rock God. I turned on the Playstation to have a quick go of some new Guitar Hero songs I downloaded. At 1:30 this morning I finally turned the thing off and went to bed. As I mentioned earlier, the boy fell to sleep nice and early. And as with every action there is an equal and opposite re-action, the boy woke up early.
He’s usually pretty good. As long as we get up and set him up in front of the tele with his bottle he will often let us stay in bed. Sometimes we even get a bit more sleep. But when the time comes that he is ready for us to wake up, then you can pretty much be assured that there will be no more sleep.
This morning he started with one of his noisy toys. Then when that didn’t work he simply jumped up and down on us. Well because I went to bed late last night, it was going to take more than the usual box of tricks to get me up. And unusual it was.
He came into the bedroom to show me an egg carton with two eggs in it. First thought was “I better get those off him before they end up on the floor.” Then the other thought processes kicked in. We only went shopping a couple of days ago and we haven’t had any eggs recently (Except maybe on a McMuffin or two). Anyways as I am walking out to put the two eggs back in the fridge I am trying to retrace the steps of the last few days. "How did we go through so many eggs?"
I am not an overly smart man, but I can count to twelve and there was definitely twelve eggs in that carton last time I looked. And sure enough. By the time I got to the fridge I saw it. A nice pile of (I am hoping 10) eggs splattered on the floor in front of the fridge. Needless to say I spent the next 20 minutes cleaning it up. Eggs are really hard to clean up. They’re gooey and you can’t pick them up cos they just slop everywhere. You can’t soak them up cos they’re a semi permeable liquid. So needless to say it was quite a task at 7:30 in the morning after only 6 hours sleep.
Not a great idea. Yeah I had fun last night. The boy fell asleep on the lounge nice and early. The missus was out to all hours of the night (In fact I better go check and see if she’s home yet) so I had the place to myself.
Time to be a Rock God. I turned on the Playstation to have a quick go of some new Guitar Hero songs I downloaded. At 1:30 this morning I finally turned the thing off and went to bed. As I mentioned earlier, the boy fell to sleep nice and early. And as with every action there is an equal and opposite re-action, the boy woke up early.
He’s usually pretty good. As long as we get up and set him up in front of the tele with his bottle he will often let us stay in bed. Sometimes we even get a bit more sleep. But when the time comes that he is ready for us to wake up, then you can pretty much be assured that there will be no more sleep.
This morning he started with one of his noisy toys. Then when that didn’t work he simply jumped up and down on us. Well because I went to bed late last night, it was going to take more than the usual box of tricks to get me up. And unusual it was.
He came into the bedroom to show me an egg carton with two eggs in it. First thought was “I better get those off him before they end up on the floor.” Then the other thought processes kicked in. We only went shopping a couple of days ago and we haven’t had any eggs recently (Except maybe on a McMuffin or two). Anyways as I am walking out to put the two eggs back in the fridge I am trying to retrace the steps of the last few days. "How did we go through so many eggs?"
I am not an overly smart man, but I can count to twelve and there was definitely twelve eggs in that carton last time I looked. And sure enough. By the time I got to the fridge I saw it. A nice pile of (I am hoping 10) eggs splattered on the floor in front of the fridge. Needless to say I spent the next 20 minutes cleaning it up. Eggs are really hard to clean up. They’re gooey and you can’t pick them up cos they just slop everywhere. You can’t soak them up cos they’re a semi permeable liquid. So needless to say it was quite a task at 7:30 in the morning after only 6 hours sleep.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Little bit of Blah-De-Blah in my life...
Wow. So many of my posts start this same way. I feel the urge to blog but the moment I sit down to squeeze one out I get nothing. So I sit here. I procrastinate. I only have one other reader that comments on my blog so I read her blog and try to make a comment that doesn’t start with “Awww” or “You go girl” or something that the other 40 commentators started their posts with. She seems pretty cool. Losin’ It just the right amount to ensure that she’s no more fucked up than the rest of us whilst not losing touch with reality. Actually her life reminds me a bit of our life. She is a business woman just like my wife. Her husband seems to worship her enough to be allowed to still sleep in the master bedroom. Anyways see that for yourself right…here.
As for my blog. Yeah I still got nothin’. I sat down a few nights ago and started to post. I had a massive lot of stuff written before I sat back and realised I was just writing a whole heap of ‘poor me’ crap. So I ditched it and went to bed. Felt much better in the morning even if I did wake up on the very edge of the bed while the boy slept sideways between his Mum and I.
Work still sucks, but until someone knocks on my door and pays me to play playstation eight hours a day my job will always suck. I still haven’t had a single bit of interest from my web design site. I guess it doesn’t help that I haven’t marketed it at all. I don’t really have the time for it at this moment anyways. My wife’s site needs another overhaul. Hasn’t been done since New Years and there’s a heap of old information on there.
On the lighter side I got my dog bathed and my lawn mowed this week. BONUS! It’s another sixty bucks I could have saved by doing it myself, but right now it’s money well spent. The dog bathing chick is pretty good. She rubs this shit on her (the dog that is. I have to pay extra to see her rub stuff on herself) which makes her smell good for days after. And she’s soft and I don’t worry so much about her rubbing up against the boy. (AGAIN I am talking about the DOG…sheesh!).
We got the car by the way. Holden Captiva. I always promised myself I wouldn’t get involved in the whole ‘Holden vs. Ford’ bullshit but my boss drives a Ford so it just happened naturally. I have a dig once in a while. Just not often enough for her to think to have a dig back at me when the opportunity arises. I have never and will never understand peoples’ obsession with cars. As long as it gets me from A to B and I can play my music in it I am happy. Specially if you’re the only one in there and you can crank it up loud.
It’s like that girl on the ad. I think it’s a lottery ad or something where it says “Sing...like nobody’s listening” and it’s got some young chicky bopping away in her little steel chariot. I am that girl. Only a hell of a lot uglier and hairier. When I am in the car I sing and HOPE that nobody’s listening. For their sakes. Cos I can’t sing for shit. Correction. I CAN sing. It just SOUNDS like shit.
You see my wife has never taken any interest in any of my playstation games. But I hired out one of the Singstar ones and she’s rapt. So am I. Problem is after playing it I realised that I sing really…REALLY bad. My wife’s good though. I kinda always knew she was cos I have heard her sing along quietly to her fav songs. So now I find myself sitting back and watching her play my playstation. Quite an amusing role reversal. Next thing you know I will be scrapbooking. Fahgedaboudit!
Seriously though, it’s very cool that I have found a game that we can both enjoy together and even the boy gets in and has a go. He sings better than me too and he can still barely speak English. I don’t have the balls to let the dog in on the act. That would be way too big a blow to the ego. She’d proly end up uploading her stuff online and next thing you know my inbox is swamped with people wanting to meet her. Well unless you’re coming around to take her for a walk you can all get fucked!
As you can see I am not overly perturbed by my lack of vocal talent. Truth is I am devastated. I want to be famous. I want to stand up in front of seventy thousand people and have them at my beck and call. Anyways not gonna happen. Although now I think about it, Chopper Reid couldn’t sing either and he has a massive fan base. If I want my picture took maybe I could rob a bank or mame some poor sod. I would end up on the front page of newspapers and all over the television. Imagine how many teenage followers I would have who all want to be just like me. Fuckin’ losers. Man I fear for the future.
Nah you can forget about that idea too. I am destined to live a very long…very normal life. Not too many ups and not too many downs and when I die and fade away to nothing I won’t have left too dark a stain on society. As long as I have my family and my handful of friends I should be able to leave this world with a smile on my face. And if I suffocate from the smell of my own farts then I KNOW my life will have been worth living right down to my last breath.
As for my blog. Yeah I still got nothin’. I sat down a few nights ago and started to post. I had a massive lot of stuff written before I sat back and realised I was just writing a whole heap of ‘poor me’ crap. So I ditched it and went to bed. Felt much better in the morning even if I did wake up on the very edge of the bed while the boy slept sideways between his Mum and I.
Work still sucks, but until someone knocks on my door and pays me to play playstation eight hours a day my job will always suck. I still haven’t had a single bit of interest from my web design site. I guess it doesn’t help that I haven’t marketed it at all. I don’t really have the time for it at this moment anyways. My wife’s site needs another overhaul. Hasn’t been done since New Years and there’s a heap of old information on there.
On the lighter side I got my dog bathed and my lawn mowed this week. BONUS! It’s another sixty bucks I could have saved by doing it myself, but right now it’s money well spent. The dog bathing chick is pretty good. She rubs this shit on her (the dog that is. I have to pay extra to see her rub stuff on herself) which makes her smell good for days after. And she’s soft and I don’t worry so much about her rubbing up against the boy. (AGAIN I am talking about the DOG…sheesh!).
We got the car by the way. Holden Captiva. I always promised myself I wouldn’t get involved in the whole ‘Holden vs. Ford’ bullshit but my boss drives a Ford so it just happened naturally. I have a dig once in a while. Just not often enough for her to think to have a dig back at me when the opportunity arises. I have never and will never understand peoples’ obsession with cars. As long as it gets me from A to B and I can play my music in it I am happy. Specially if you’re the only one in there and you can crank it up loud.
It’s like that girl on the ad. I think it’s a lottery ad or something where it says “Sing...like nobody’s listening” and it’s got some young chicky bopping away in her little steel chariot. I am that girl. Only a hell of a lot uglier and hairier. When I am in the car I sing and HOPE that nobody’s listening. For their sakes. Cos I can’t sing for shit. Correction. I CAN sing. It just SOUNDS like shit.
You see my wife has never taken any interest in any of my playstation games. But I hired out one of the Singstar ones and she’s rapt. So am I. Problem is after playing it I realised that I sing really…REALLY bad. My wife’s good though. I kinda always knew she was cos I have heard her sing along quietly to her fav songs. So now I find myself sitting back and watching her play my playstation. Quite an amusing role reversal. Next thing you know I will be scrapbooking. Fahgedaboudit!
Seriously though, it’s very cool that I have found a game that we can both enjoy together and even the boy gets in and has a go. He sings better than me too and he can still barely speak English. I don’t have the balls to let the dog in on the act. That would be way too big a blow to the ego. She’d proly end up uploading her stuff online and next thing you know my inbox is swamped with people wanting to meet her. Well unless you’re coming around to take her for a walk you can all get fucked!
As you can see I am not overly perturbed by my lack of vocal talent. Truth is I am devastated. I want to be famous. I want to stand up in front of seventy thousand people and have them at my beck and call. Anyways not gonna happen. Although now I think about it, Chopper Reid couldn’t sing either and he has a massive fan base. If I want my picture took maybe I could rob a bank or mame some poor sod. I would end up on the front page of newspapers and all over the television. Imagine how many teenage followers I would have who all want to be just like me. Fuckin’ losers. Man I fear for the future.
Nah you can forget about that idea too. I am destined to live a very long…very normal life. Not too many ups and not too many downs and when I die and fade away to nothing I won’t have left too dark a stain on society. As long as I have my family and my handful of friends I should be able to leave this world with a smile on my face. And if I suffocate from the smell of my own farts then I KNOW my life will have been worth living right down to my last breath.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Livin' for the weekend
Saturday again. Time flies when you live for the weekends. You spend the whole working week counting down to these couple of days when you get to do whatever you want.
Apart from the laundry and the dishes. And tidying up the house. Downstairs is a mess as well. Oh and the fence needs fixing. Probably should wash the car. I need to iron my clothes for work this week. The missus is at work so I have to look after the boy. The garden is starting to become overrun with weeds. There’s a weeks worth of dog crap on the lawn needs picking up. I need to take a run to the dump. I need to take a dump, and we all know how much time that takes up with my hairy arse (if not, here is a run down for you). I must remember to fix that leaky tap as well.
I guess I better go. I have so much to do in so little time.
But before I do, here’s a thought. I read it on a T-shirt:
If a man is alone in the woods, with no women around him, and he says something is he still wrong?
Apart from the laundry and the dishes. And tidying up the house. Downstairs is a mess as well. Oh and the fence needs fixing. Probably should wash the car. I need to iron my clothes for work this week. The missus is at work so I have to look after the boy. The garden is starting to become overrun with weeds. There’s a weeks worth of dog crap on the lawn needs picking up. I need to take a run to the dump. I need to take a dump, and we all know how much time that takes up with my hairy arse (if not, here is a run down for you). I must remember to fix that leaky tap as well.
I guess I better go. I have so much to do in so little time.
But before I do, here’s a thought. I read it on a T-shirt:
If a man is alone in the woods, with no women around him, and he says something is he still wrong?
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Yo...what it is?
The boss bought an egg timer the other day. By ‘the boss’ I mean my wife. It’s a term of endearment. She’s not really my boss. I wear the pants in this relationship. But only cos she says I have to.
I don’t get it really. Like when we’re going over to a friends for a barbie or something. She tells me I have to put clothes on. But my definition of friends is people you feel comfortable around. How much more comfortable can you get than wearing your underwear to a barbie on a hot summers afternoon. Sheesh!
Anyways I digress. The egg timer is to time the boy as he sits in the naughty corner. We’re adopting the super nanny’s naughty corner in the event of any unasseptable behaviour. It seems to be working. I think his day care must do it.
We took the egg timer out the first time and sat him down to explain the concept. “Right, now every time you’re naughty you have to sit in the naughty corner for three minutes.” The moment we finished saying it, he took himself into the kitchen and sat in the corner. I was dumbfounded. He wasn’t even being naughty at the time. And he sat there the whole three minutes. Stupid piece of shit egg timer doesn’t actually work but we just guesstimate the three minutes.
Usually he is a little angel. Really. I could not hope for a better child, but his poppy has been here for the past week and I think he got a little too spoilt. I can’t hold it against my dad. It’s the grandparents right to spoil them rotten then hand em back to us. But now we’re dealing with the aftermath.
It was great having dad here for the week. He is a different man since the birth of his grandson. More relaxed. I don’t know if it is because of the birth of his grandson, or if it is a coincidence. I can’t even pinpoint exactly how he is different, but it’s in a good way. It’s actually why I haven’t blogged. I don’t really think he needs to be exposed to this. He is still a little old fashioned. Particularly with respect to swearing and drug use. Not that I take drugs anymore. I gave those up when the boy was born. I don’t think I could handle even having a smoke now.
I used to have trouble communicating when I was stoned. I couldn’t speak to people or look them in the eye. It got to the point where I was paranoid even when I wasn’t stoned. Well at least I think I was paranoid. You be the judge.
I had three close friends. One who was my best mate since the first day I moved to Newcastle when I was eight. The other I met years later as he was running the pool hall my best mate and I frequented. The third was my brother. I have no doubt that my best mate liked me. I have no doubt that my brother liked me too. Although since our decision to move to Central Queensland he and my mother have been hate mongering on us. They don’t even want to be a part of their nephew/grandsons life.
Anyways, the other guy who ran the pool hall just one day stopped hanging out with us. Both my brother and I lived with mum at the time, and our place was the drop in for the other two. We hung out and played Playstation and ping-pong pretty much all the time. Oh and of course we smoked drugs. Well my best mate didn’t but he was still happy to hang. After a few months the other guy started to come back around. He had moved into his own house. He started inviting my brother and my best mate around to hang with him. It was easier to smoke drugs when you didn’t have to sneak em by mum. I have never been invited to that guys place. So you do the math. Four green smokers sitting on the wall. If one green smoker should accidently fall. There’ll be three green smokers…
Anyways now I understand that all three of them still hang out and I am quite sure that the hate mongering has extended to them. The only time my best mate has tried to contact me was to send me a message to tell me I was gay. We go back to Newcastle this November to see my wife’s brother married. Naturally the question came up whether or not I would go and see the boys while I am there. I am not sure I want to. I think my biggest concern will be that I will find myself doing exactly the same thing that I was doing four or five years ago and I will realise that none of these guys have evolved… grown up.
I like to think I have grown up. At least for the most part. I still play the Playstation. In fact last time I blogged I was playing GTA IV. I have since got Guitar Hero III. I love it. I didn’t think any game would beat GTA. Guitar Hero is choice. You really feel like you’re playing the guitar. My fingers are absolutely killing me. And it looks like they’re bringing out a drum kit equivalent. I used to play the drums. Not well. But I played them nonetheless.
I don’t get it really. Like when we’re going over to a friends for a barbie or something. She tells me I have to put clothes on. But my definition of friends is people you feel comfortable around. How much more comfortable can you get than wearing your underwear to a barbie on a hot summers afternoon. Sheesh!
Anyways I digress. The egg timer is to time the boy as he sits in the naughty corner. We’re adopting the super nanny’s naughty corner in the event of any unasseptable behaviour. It seems to be working. I think his day care must do it.
We took the egg timer out the first time and sat him down to explain the concept. “Right, now every time you’re naughty you have to sit in the naughty corner for three minutes.” The moment we finished saying it, he took himself into the kitchen and sat in the corner. I was dumbfounded. He wasn’t even being naughty at the time. And he sat there the whole three minutes. Stupid piece of shit egg timer doesn’t actually work but we just guesstimate the three minutes.
Usually he is a little angel. Really. I could not hope for a better child, but his poppy has been here for the past week and I think he got a little too spoilt. I can’t hold it against my dad. It’s the grandparents right to spoil them rotten then hand em back to us. But now we’re dealing with the aftermath.
It was great having dad here for the week. He is a different man since the birth of his grandson. More relaxed. I don’t know if it is because of the birth of his grandson, or if it is a coincidence. I can’t even pinpoint exactly how he is different, but it’s in a good way. It’s actually why I haven’t blogged. I don’t really think he needs to be exposed to this. He is still a little old fashioned. Particularly with respect to swearing and drug use. Not that I take drugs anymore. I gave those up when the boy was born. I don’t think I could handle even having a smoke now.
I used to have trouble communicating when I was stoned. I couldn’t speak to people or look them in the eye. It got to the point where I was paranoid even when I wasn’t stoned. Well at least I think I was paranoid. You be the judge.
I had three close friends. One who was my best mate since the first day I moved to Newcastle when I was eight. The other I met years later as he was running the pool hall my best mate and I frequented. The third was my brother. I have no doubt that my best mate liked me. I have no doubt that my brother liked me too. Although since our decision to move to Central Queensland he and my mother have been hate mongering on us. They don’t even want to be a part of their nephew/grandsons life.
Anyways, the other guy who ran the pool hall just one day stopped hanging out with us. Both my brother and I lived with mum at the time, and our place was the drop in for the other two. We hung out and played Playstation and ping-pong pretty much all the time. Oh and of course we smoked drugs. Well my best mate didn’t but he was still happy to hang. After a few months the other guy started to come back around. He had moved into his own house. He started inviting my brother and my best mate around to hang with him. It was easier to smoke drugs when you didn’t have to sneak em by mum. I have never been invited to that guys place. So you do the math. Four green smokers sitting on the wall. If one green smoker should accidently fall. There’ll be three green smokers…
Anyways now I understand that all three of them still hang out and I am quite sure that the hate mongering has extended to them. The only time my best mate has tried to contact me was to send me a message to tell me I was gay. We go back to Newcastle this November to see my wife’s brother married. Naturally the question came up whether or not I would go and see the boys while I am there. I am not sure I want to. I think my biggest concern will be that I will find myself doing exactly the same thing that I was doing four or five years ago and I will realise that none of these guys have evolved… grown up.
I like to think I have grown up. At least for the most part. I still play the Playstation. In fact last time I blogged I was playing GTA IV. I have since got Guitar Hero III. I love it. I didn’t think any game would beat GTA. Guitar Hero is choice. You really feel like you’re playing the guitar. My fingers are absolutely killing me. And it looks like they’re bringing out a drum kit equivalent. I used to play the drums. Not well. But I played them nonetheless.
Friday, May 30, 2008
YAY, I am on holidays
Well sort of. I have to go back in on Monday for training but at least I don’t have to deal with any of the arseholes who keep me in a job. Then I don’t have to go back until the Wednesday over a week later. My eyes are already very, very dry. Trying not to blink too much in case I miss my time off.
They’re also pretty sore at the moment. Just had my reading glasses renewed and I feel like I have been punched fair in my right eyebrow. This happened when I first got my glasses. I guess it’s just the eyes adjusting to the new way of focusing. I am sure it will go away soon enough.
The missus has also got new glasses and she is suffering the same thing. Only it’s her left eye that’s worse. We figure if I give her my left eye then at least she will have two good eyes. And I will have an excuse not to have to go to work at all. I can go onto the Centrelink Disability Support Pension like all the other young fit lazy fuckers in this town.
You would not believe how manymen boys in their early twenty’s are on the Disability Pension in this town. Yet they still manage to afford hotted up cars. You see em pull up in their Nissan Skyline or Subaru WRX or whatever the fuck those hot cars are called. They park in the disabled park then get out and briskly walk to wherever it is they need to go with a smile on their face and a spring in their step. You’re not disabled arsehole. You’re just a selfish lazy prick. Fair dinkum. There’s a bunch of savages in this town.
Same as with the ‘parents with prams’ parking. Our boy is still in a pram most of the time. He just can’t be trusted not to run away when we get him into the shopping centre. But do you think there is ever a parents with prams park available for us? We don’t really care, cos we aren’t disabled. We can walk the extra distance. But the principle of the matter is that these same arseholes [maybe the ones who can’t get hold of a disabled parking sticker] park in the spots because they are closest to the door. Yet when you look in the car window there’s no baby seat or booster seat there. Why is that I wonder? Cos there’s no fuckin kids in the car. Ergo no fuckin pram. Ergo you’re just an arsehole.
You see I have to take my aggression out in this blog because if you say anything to them directly the arseholes and six of their mates will take to you with lumps of wood. It’s not good for my complexion.
I propose a conundrum for you. If you are truly disabled, or you truly do have children in your car that you intend to put in a pram, should you take the special parks if they’re available? I guess we have to pretend that this is a perfect world where there are no savages who would take the car parks if they’re not entitled to them. Now, if I have a child with a pram and I do not take the park, then I am taking up a car park that other people could use whilst leaving free a car park that these other people may not use. You know what it’s like when [assuming you’re a normal considerate person who would not take the special parks] you drive up to see that magic free car park only to realise it’s a parents with prams spot and you can’t park there. Yet there’s not a single other available park anywhere in the complex. If only one of the parents who used a normal spot had parked there, then that normal spot might be available to you.
So you see how I might have a morale dilemna every time I go shopping. I have a child who is in a pram. But I am fit (enough) to walk the extra distance. So do I take the parents with prams spot and risk leaving some poor woman who has three kids hanging off her to walk, or do I take a normal park and risk leaving some normal person with absolutely nowhere to park? At the end of the day I don’t really give a rats arse but it’s food for thought.
They’re also pretty sore at the moment. Just had my reading glasses renewed and I feel like I have been punched fair in my right eyebrow. This happened when I first got my glasses. I guess it’s just the eyes adjusting to the new way of focusing. I am sure it will go away soon enough.
The missus has also got new glasses and she is suffering the same thing. Only it’s her left eye that’s worse. We figure if I give her my left eye then at least she will have two good eyes. And I will have an excuse not to have to go to work at all. I can go onto the Centrelink Disability Support Pension like all the other young fit lazy fuckers in this town.
You would not believe how many
Same as with the ‘parents with prams’ parking. Our boy is still in a pram most of the time. He just can’t be trusted not to run away when we get him into the shopping centre. But do you think there is ever a parents with prams park available for us? We don’t really care, cos we aren’t disabled. We can walk the extra distance. But the principle of the matter is that these same arseholes [maybe the ones who can’t get hold of a disabled parking sticker] park in the spots because they are closest to the door. Yet when you look in the car window there’s no baby seat or booster seat there. Why is that I wonder? Cos there’s no fuckin kids in the car. Ergo no fuckin pram. Ergo you’re just an arsehole.
You see I have to take my aggression out in this blog because if you say anything to them directly the arseholes and six of their mates will take to you with lumps of wood. It’s not good for my complexion.
I propose a conundrum for you. If you are truly disabled, or you truly do have children in your car that you intend to put in a pram, should you take the special parks if they’re available? I guess we have to pretend that this is a perfect world where there are no savages who would take the car parks if they’re not entitled to them. Now, if I have a child with a pram and I do not take the park, then I am taking up a car park that other people could use whilst leaving free a car park that these other people may not use. You know what it’s like when [assuming you’re a normal considerate person who would not take the special parks] you drive up to see that magic free car park only to realise it’s a parents with prams spot and you can’t park there. Yet there’s not a single other available park anywhere in the complex. If only one of the parents who used a normal spot had parked there, then that normal spot might be available to you.
So you see how I might have a morale dilemna every time I go shopping. I have a child who is in a pram. But I am fit (enough) to walk the extra distance. So do I take the parents with prams spot and risk leaving some poor woman who has three kids hanging off her to walk, or do I take a normal park and risk leaving some normal person with absolutely nowhere to park? At the end of the day I don’t really give a rats arse but it’s food for thought.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
D Motive 8 Ed
I wanna blog. But I’ll be fucked if I have any thing worth saying. This post will not be funny. It won’t have anything profound in it whatsoever. It is literally just an attempt to break down my blogstipation. The good ol virtual laxative.
This last month has just sucked the big ones in very many ways. I spent three quarters of it with a blocked nose. That was when it wasn’t running all over the place. That usually happened right when I was in the middle of a face-to-face interview with a customer. Out of nowhere my nose would literally drip all over my desk. The customers would look at me like I was some kind of freak. Ironically, this is the same customer who last time had their snotty nosed 3 year old rubbin’ her boogers all over my desk. Chances are that’s where the cold came from, and now they’re lookin at me as if to say “You better not have bits fallin off until my issue is resolved”. I’m sure after that they couldn’t give a flyin rats clacker if I died or not. As long as they got what they needed.
Work just gets busier and busier every day. I have absolutely no intention of telling you where I work, but there’s so much going on that the customers just have a million questions. Half of which I still don’t have the answers to. That’s the beauty of working in rural areas. All the city based offices are in the know but we still haven’t had the appropriate training. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel because there’s no funding for more employees. And finally when there is funding they will look at us and say “Well you guys have been handling it so far so you don’t really need any more staff”. My fucking arse we don’t you stupid prick. We’re not handling it. We’re all burning out here. GET US SOME FUCKING STAFF. Sorry…got a bit excited there….arseholes.
The boy is perfect. Make no mistake about it. But this last few weeks he’s been a right little shit for his mum and that filters down to me. She’s also just taken over full ownership of her scrapbooking business and there’s quite a bit of reorganising required there. So she’s stressed both at work and at home. I am stressed at work and at home and we’re generally not getting along as well as we should be.
Don’t get me wrong. We’re getting on well and the relationship is way stronger than anything life can throw at us, but when we’re both stressed neither of us can be the others’ rock. [out of character moment – I love ya bubby. Lots and lots]
Then there’s the fuckin snake. I haven’t seen it. I am almost convinced that it’s moved on. But only almost, so I can’t go downstairs without the percussion section of a brass band in tow. Bangin and crashing their symbols to scare the fucker away. What pissed me off the most was that I had just got my motivation up to start weights. I did two workouts and then got sick and then saw the snake and haven’t touched em again since. But I am still keen. Just got a little more tidying up to do to be absolutely sure the snake is gone. Yeah I know I sound like a pussy, but it’s a phobia. In fact I looked up the word for snake-o-phobia…Ophidiophobia.
But there is good shit happening in life too. We have finally made a decision on the new car. We’re getting a Holden Captiva. I didn’t like it at first but it has grown on me. As long as it has MP3 and Cup Holders I am cool with it. We’re just waiting on the missus’ accountant (who also happens to be my father) to send us the paperwork to get the finance in order and the car will be ours. Hoping to have it some time next week. Said accountant/father is also coming to visit next week. The boy is looking forward to seeing “poppy coming in da plane in weeks”. Not weeks anymore matey. Only a few sleeps. I also have taken that week off work. Well overdue rest period. So in the scheme of things it’s starting to look up.
We did also have a great night last Saturday night with new friends. My wife has to make my friends for me. Every male that I know socially in this town is because their respective partners are customers/employees of the scrapbooking shop. But the good news is they’re all just as fucked up as me. So in my eyes that makes them pretty cool.
Finished the story line of GTA IV. Anyone who has played it knows that means I am only about a quarter through the whole game. Still plenty of money’s worth in that game.
Saw the Iron Man movie. I wasn’t a fan of the comic. In fact I wasn’t a fan of reading anything unless you call Playstation Game Walkthroughs reading. But I thoroughly enjoyed the movie.
Anyways I think I am blogged and unclogged again. Ciao.
This last month has just sucked the big ones in very many ways. I spent three quarters of it with a blocked nose. That was when it wasn’t running all over the place. That usually happened right when I was in the middle of a face-to-face interview with a customer. Out of nowhere my nose would literally drip all over my desk. The customers would look at me like I was some kind of freak. Ironically, this is the same customer who last time had their snotty nosed 3 year old rubbin’ her boogers all over my desk. Chances are that’s where the cold came from, and now they’re lookin at me as if to say “You better not have bits fallin off until my issue is resolved”. I’m sure after that they couldn’t give a flyin rats clacker if I died or not. As long as they got what they needed.
Work just gets busier and busier every day. I have absolutely no intention of telling you where I work, but there’s so much going on that the customers just have a million questions. Half of which I still don’t have the answers to. That’s the beauty of working in rural areas. All the city based offices are in the know but we still haven’t had the appropriate training. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel because there’s no funding for more employees. And finally when there is funding they will look at us and say “Well you guys have been handling it so far so you don’t really need any more staff”. My fucking arse we don’t you stupid prick. We’re not handling it. We’re all burning out here. GET US SOME FUCKING STAFF. Sorry…got a bit excited there….arseholes.
The boy is perfect. Make no mistake about it. But this last few weeks he’s been a right little shit for his mum and that filters down to me. She’s also just taken over full ownership of her scrapbooking business and there’s quite a bit of reorganising required there. So she’s stressed both at work and at home. I am stressed at work and at home and we’re generally not getting along as well as we should be.
Don’t get me wrong. We’re getting on well and the relationship is way stronger than anything life can throw at us, but when we’re both stressed neither of us can be the others’ rock. [out of character moment – I love ya bubby. Lots and lots]
Then there’s the fuckin snake. I haven’t seen it. I am almost convinced that it’s moved on. But only almost, so I can’t go downstairs without the percussion section of a brass band in tow. Bangin and crashing their symbols to scare the fucker away. What pissed me off the most was that I had just got my motivation up to start weights. I did two workouts and then got sick and then saw the snake and haven’t touched em again since. But I am still keen. Just got a little more tidying up to do to be absolutely sure the snake is gone. Yeah I know I sound like a pussy, but it’s a phobia. In fact I looked up the word for snake-o-phobia…Ophidiophobia.
But there is good shit happening in life too. We have finally made a decision on the new car. We’re getting a Holden Captiva. I didn’t like it at first but it has grown on me. As long as it has MP3 and Cup Holders I am cool with it. We’re just waiting on the missus’ accountant (who also happens to be my father) to send us the paperwork to get the finance in order and the car will be ours. Hoping to have it some time next week. Said accountant/father is also coming to visit next week. The boy is looking forward to seeing “poppy coming in da plane in weeks”. Not weeks anymore matey. Only a few sleeps. I also have taken that week off work. Well overdue rest period. So in the scheme of things it’s starting to look up.
We did also have a great night last Saturday night with new friends. My wife has to make my friends for me. Every male that I know socially in this town is because their respective partners are customers/employees of the scrapbooking shop. But the good news is they’re all just as fucked up as me. So in my eyes that makes them pretty cool.
Finished the story line of GTA IV. Anyone who has played it knows that means I am only about a quarter through the whole game. Still plenty of money’s worth in that game.
Saw the Iron Man movie. I wasn’t a fan of the comic. In fact I wasn’t a fan of reading anything unless you call Playstation Game Walkthroughs reading. But I thoroughly enjoyed the movie.
Anyways I think I am blogged and unclogged again. Ciao.
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