Yes yes, Oh yes.

http://www.crushcalculator.com/content/love/298894969

 

To those who occasionally cast a roving eye over this Journal, it would seem that I have been in a period of limbo for the past month. Last time we spoke I was sitting in a Wise training session in Sydney pondering over the subtle complexity of component tables and other such drivel.

Let me bring you up to speed. I've taken the family to Byron, where I attempted to learn to surf. It seems from recollection however, that it was more along the lines of 'learning to cling to the bottom of a surfboard whilst being dragged along in the undertow'. But the first description is certainly a little more flattering. Connor and Piper had a fantastic time, and the trip culminated in them getting to see whales and dolphins playing together in the ocean.

I sold the Audi to Richard about 3 weeks ago, due to the fact that 2 children with inordinately long legs don't seem to fit too well in the back, and I suspect I would have a hard time proving to a vehicle manufacturer that this was a major contributing factor to the diminutive stature of my children in order to procure some form of compensation.

I wish Rich all the best with the car, whatever he decides to do to it (with the exception of 20" chrome spinners, a hydraulic suspension kit or anything that raises the 'bling' factor beyond the vehicle's normal capability).

Poker has been a bit thin on the ground lately, but slightly bolstered by the fact that I now have cable, and can watch the ESPN WSOP tournaments on Tuesday. I may not be a smart man, but I know what I like.

The last poker day was a complete fiasco for me. Some may say it was about time (yes, I'm looking at you Seb!), but I think I tend to agree. I hadn't lost in a while, so perhaps I needed to be reminded of the fact that I'm so far from being a reasonable player it's not funny. Suffice to say though, I've been perusing some very interesting articles on the nuances of 'telling' (no explanation is necessary for those Pokerphiles amongst us), and will be adopting a new approach next time we play. I believe the term is "changing it up". Caveat Emptor boys. Caveat Emptor.

More updates to come shortly...

 

Well...here I am sitting in the middle of a training session. After 2 and a half days, my brain is slowly filling up. I know this because my head is getting harder to hold up, and when I tilt it sideways little 1's and 0's keep dropping out of my ears.

I'm thinking that if it gets too full, I'll start forgetting important things. Like why people wear leather pants. Or what all those stupid coffee terms actually mean.

On the upside...I'm in Sydney!.

Tonight I hit General Pants, Saba, Marcs, Tuckwell Brown, Orson and Blake and countless other stores in order to empty the contents of my bank account into their respective coffers with absolute alacrity.

On the downside, I really miss my kids :o(

I've decided that my department should invest in one of those cool dancing machines that you see in video arcades.
You know, the ones with the four coloured lights and the screen that you have to hop around on.

And whoever beats the high score should be allowed to go home early.

Watch me make it happen.

I gained a new found respect for the humble frisbee on the weekend.

Yours truly and some overenthusiastic (read: "still pissed from the night before"), friends decided to head down to the park for a game of touch football. Of course, we took along the standard prerequisites for any outdoor soiree; a football, an undersized soccer ball, and of course, a frisbee.

What resulted was not your average sport.

Born out of ingenuity and sheer inventiveness, our game was a cross between touch football, AFL and repeated 50m sprints. Suffice to say, even the most hardy athlete would have met his demise at the hands of this rather nondescript flying disk. Even I, who, in the peak of physical conditioning (shutup, it's my Journal and I'll write what I want), fell victim to exhaustion after just 45 minutes.

It is, however, a very cool game. And lots of fun. As I and my grass-stained knees will attest to.

I was going to explain the rules here, but I started and then realised it would take longer than I thought. So I didn't.

I was later informed by the two solicitors present that according to Australian constitutional law, one must immediately consume at least 1 litre of cold beer and no less than 500g of char-grilled quadruped after any competitive ball-related sport has been finalised.

Hey, I don't makes the rules, I just abides by 'em.

Well, thanks in part to my new job and greatly reduced stress levels, I figured it was about time I gave the old journal a facelift.

I spent ages sorting through DeviantART trying to find something that seemed to work with my theme, and this is the end result.

How fitting that after considering colours, textures, themes and other associated aesthetic issues, I finally settled on a hot babe.

Goes to prove I'm only human really.

Oh, and I changed my mood icons as well...I kinda like 'Lumpy' (as I've nicknamed him), down there. He reminds me of a human beanbag.
Rather similar to the way I feel on Sunday mornings after working the night before...(I think Nick will attest to this as well).

I've also been teaching my little guy Connor how to DJ. I know he's only 3, but I figure it's never too early to start. :)

Here's a photo of him laying down some wicked choons and whipping the crowd into a frenzy at his first gig - opening set at the Brindabella Park Early Learning Centre..

You Are 15 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

No surprise for anyone that knows me there... :o)

You Are an Appletini

Most of the time, you're a typical party girl / guy. But when you get super sauced, you really up your sex appeal.

Your Superhero Profile

Your Superhero Name is The Silver Marvel Your Superpower is Super Strength Your Weakness is Cotton Candy Your Weapon is Your Magic Blaster Your Mode of Transportation is Camel

Granted, it's an unrelated topic, but nevertheless true. I couldn't think of anything better than spending my days looting and plundering. I mean seriously, how often does one get to use the phrase "pieces of eight" in everyday conversation. Way too little for my liking, I can tell you.

And another thing, there's not nearly enough "Aaahhhhrrrrrr", ing being heard either. It's an extremely underrated and phrase, and one which I believe should definitely be reintroduced into mainstream vocabulary.

Take for example, a conversation I had with Nick recently..

"Hey Nick, do you like that new Doctor Pressure track?"

Nick : "Why yes...yes I do". 

That just won't do.

Now, let's use my suggested example..

"Hey Nick, do you like that new Doctor Pressure track?"

Nick : "Aaahhhhrrrrrr!". 

You see; infinitely more expressive. Now granted, Nick wasn't wearing an eye patch or skull and crossbones hat at the time, but you get the picture.

 

Oh, speaking of looting, we played poker on the weekend, and for the second time running, yours truly won the tournament.

I'm not going to gloat about this, or profess my limitless poker-playing abilities; suffice to say I was very pleased with the $120 I received.

That should just about get me half a tank of unleaded.

I got a really cool stainless steel bracelet and a card from my kids on Fathers Day. It's so cool, and kinda looks like platinum.

Did you?

I think not. :)

I so love being a Dad.

Some day you guys are gonna have kids and you'll be all like "Ooooooh, that's what you were talking about".

And I'll be like "yup".

 

So....after a much needed break, I and my livejournalistic alter-ego return.

The last few days have been spent at a little place down the coast.

And, in the immortal words of Britney Spears (whose moral edict I always strive to live my life by):

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh. My. God 

What an amazing place.

Should I start by mentioning the plunge pool leading down to the ocean?; or perhaps describe the exquisite strawberry and lychee caprioskas that were served at the cocktail bar with the open fireplace and extremely comfy lounges. Or the superb day spa where Megan will knead, scrub, manipulate and tone your muscles back to their original shape?

I can't decide.

(also noteworthy were the ridiculously fluffy towels that gave a similar feeling to drying yourself with a small declawed polar bear)...

And all this only 2 and a half hours drive away from the frigid shores of Lake Burley Griffin. YOU (yes, I'm pointing at you), need to get there.

Now.

Oh, and as some of you may already know, I commenced my new role working in the same building as Señor Milky. There are now 3 DJ's in this building.

I like those odds.

So it's like this.


With only 5 working days left here, I'm really starting to wind down.


Sometimes to the point where people are occasionally poking me with sharp objects to see if I'm still awake.


I know most people enjoy a good poking (write your own material, I
can't be bothered), now and again, but why don't they just let me be?




We had morning tea this morning (what better time I hear you say), and
if truth be known, I was kind of expecting a "he's leaving" (or
possibly "the power of Christ compels you!", whilst flailing in my
direction with a bottle of holy water), speech from my boss.

But nothing. Nada. Zip.
Go figure.


Ah well, like they say, don't sweat the petty things....and....err....don't pet the sweaty things.
Or something like that.





Oh, I found this rather funny.

Buenos Nachos.



Our monthly poker soirée came and went in a blur of Jagermeister, chips
(both salt & vinegar and the plastic variety), Absolut vodka,
testosterone and over-enthusiastic betting.



Troy arrived late and left early, buoyed by a number of respectable
wins, a healthy amount of Jager and the self-confidence of a man twice
his size.



Benny too arrived fashionably behind schedule, but unfortunately did not fare as well
as his ex-104 playing partner. He was last seen taking his aggressions
out on unsuspecting motorists along the parkway.

Currently Channel 7 are attempting to contact him regarding inclusion
on their "World Records" show for the fastest land speed ever clocked
by a 1987 Ford Meteor.



SeaBass played his usual tight game, and only succumbed to adventurous
betting when boredom set in. He didn't, however, fare as well in the
tournament and was duly removed by Ben who made a ridiculously dodgy
two pair out of nothing.

Our heartfelt thoughts go out to Seb and his wallet.



Alabama initially played like a man possessed, however towards the end
of the evening he seemed to more resemble a man who had been
repossessed due to delinquent payments.

On the upside, Bama's side bets on the football, cricket, hockey, ice
skating, ballet and cockroach racing did in fact bring him out on top.



Rach was well ahead in the early stages, but then decided that she
couldn't lose and so took that opportunity to prove herself thoroughly
incorrect in that assumption.

She did regain some composure in the final tourney, but was removed by
Ben's barefaced luck (see above). Ben took this opportunity to offer a
sensual massage, but was politely refused.

It was later discovered he was actually talking to himself.



Yours truly started off like a one-eyed pirate with the patch over the
wrong eye (all my own material folks); at one stage having to borrow
twenty bucks off Troy to subsidise the fifty beans I'd already blown
through in the space of an hour.

This was, however, the low point in the afternoon as I recovered to not
only win back my original stake, return Troy his advance but also go on
to win the tournament.



There is a God. And his name is Gamblor.





And just to put this into perspective and make us all feel like we're
complete amateurs, Rhino went to Canberra Casino last night and took
out their poker jackpot.

But that's ok....he didn't win that much.

Only $100,000!!!!!!!

A hundred grand.



But you know what....it couldn't happen to a nicer bloke.



Good on you tiger, well deserved.

Well...I've just been informed that I single-handedly managed to
download over 12Gb of data this month. I reckon that's a damn good
effort.

They didn't seem too impressed when I asked if I'd won a free t-shirt though. :)



Oh well. Some people just don't have a sense of humour I guess.



Looking forward to having Sat. night off this weekend...maybe (yes, I said maybe!), I'm
getting old, but a night at home with a bottle of Red and a DVD seems
to be ever more attractive.





Oh, and a big shout out to all you Muppet Fans out there.

Sitting here eating a Krispy Kreme donut prompted me to wonder why
people go for those really complicated coffee orders in cafes.

"I'll have a double decaffeinated half-caf with a twist of lemon and soy froth thanks".

Is there any point in drinking something so diluted that it evades the
very reason you purchased the beverage in the first place?

Now bugger off and go buy a bottle of water.



Ok, I'm done with my tanty now.






(Oh, and if anyone says anything about me ordering Vanilla in mine, they're toast)





Things are looking up with Poker on this Sunday. This may give me a
chance to increase my monthly earnings by a modest percentage, although
if Troy were here, he'd probably argue that point.


But, on the down side, it may also give me a good excuse to redistribute my hard-earned beans to some close friends.

Ah, Texas Hold'em, the game of champions.



Also, from what I'm led to believe, common practice is to prelude a game of
champions with the breakfast of champions. Hence my decision to take the family to Milk & Honey on Sunday morning.

I highly recommend the coconut pancakes.

Someone should initiate a study to prove that mid-afternoon is the slowest part of the day.



Pop Quiz:

My boss is ignoring me because :



a). He hopes that I'll eventually crack and do something productive

b). Handing in my resignation 2 days ago now causes him to see me as nothing more than a coffee-imbibing usurper

c). His susceptibility to Jedi mind-control tricks is greater than I had presumed

d). His mind is completely occupied by the odd-looking woman that's just moved into the Big Brother house





Either my mind is playing tricks on me, or the second hand on the clock just ticked backwards.





Thought for the day ->

Light travels faster than sound, which is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

I was late for work this morning, for no other valid reason that I
seriously couldn't be bothered getting out of bed. I know this sounds
like a pretty lame excuse, but part of the reason I didn't get up was
that I was lying there wondering how many other people in the world
were also lying in their beds looking at their alarm clocks and
repeating the mantra "just another five minutes".

Something tells me there's a distinct sense of irony there, but I can't be assed to try and fathom it right now.



Oh, and why is that people don't get out of bed on odd numbered times?
Why, if it's 3 minutes past 7 do they have to wait until 5 past before
they can get up?.

I think there's something in that for all of us.