|
| - Tripping Billies Good evening.
Well it has been a while since I took the time to add my latest ponderings to this page. But right now I'm in the mood for a bit or a ramble, so here I am.
An interesting last week it has been. I'll give you a quick run down.
1. Asked a girl out. Only met her once before, and while I'll admit to not being entirely serious in my proposition, she did reply in the affirmative, so I naturally changed my mind.
2. Had a lovely date, went to the movies/jazz bar. Talked for many hours about everything under the sun as you do.
3. Had a second date, went to her house and watched Romeo and Juliet, the entire first season of Black Books, and Cruel Intentions. In that order. Slightly odd collection, but seemed to fit the mood.
4. Next day rang her and told her that while I was enjoying spending time with her(which I was) and would like to continue to do so(which I am) I would prefer it if right now our relationship would not go beyond friendship. She seemed fine with that, and I thought that it was a fair thing to say, just to make sure no one had any expectations that might not be met.
5. Had said girl get very angry with me days later because apparently she "discovered" that I had been playing a joke on her all this time. This made me slightly affronted, since I would much rather lose a testicle than do any such thing. But I managed to smooth things over and all is now good between us. In fact she's coming to church with me this sunday.
6. Had a breakfast at a local church with a bunch of city youth leaders. Was served food by the most gorgeous girl I have seen in a long time. Completely smitten. Have no idea what her name is or what she does or if she's single. Determined to find out.
7. Meantime worked out by a probability ratio that the chances of myself being able to maintain my single status is approximately 6%. Rather excited at this. Now more determined to find out more about mystery girl.
So that was my week. Quite a bit managed to happen. But thats pretty usual for me. Never a dull moment. Also started reading the Harry Potter series. Not sure if this brands me as a someone involved in "unhealthy spiritual practices" or not. But I will find out.
A big "Una vuelta agradable, amo." to Omega. Usted será un gran hombre un día. Mark my words.
And with that, ladies and gentlemen, i bid you goodnight. Until next we meet.
P. | | |
| Dear readers in the great wide world.
As most of you know yesterday(depending on your time zone) was Thanksgiving day. So I have decided to write on that great tradition. Now right now some of my cooler friends(The Aussies) are thinking "Bloody hell. I dont want to hear about some stupid yank tradition. Lets go down to the footie and open a few stubbies." But no, Australians do need to celebrate Thanksgiving. It is important. And presently i will tell you why.
Thanksgiving all started about 400 years ago when some poms decided that practicing their religion was getting a bit sweaty with the present monarchy. So they thought that they'd bugger off to Dutchland, home of the Dutchies. Yes, Holland you idiots.
However after some time in The Neverregions they got quite sick of tulips and sauerkrauts and the bloody cold so they thought "hey lets go find some place with no traditions, then we can do whatever the hell we want".
So they all buggered off again, after conning the poms out of some money, and boarded a boat named The Mayflower. They arrived at Plymouth Rock in North America on December 11. (Coincidence that my birthday is May 11? I think not.) They stepped onto dry land and said "fully sick mate".
Anyway they set up camp, stoked up the billy, made some tea, and buried half of their number that had carked it on the way there. They also at this time invented the first rudimentary McDonalds.
The next year the veggie garden was looking pretty decent, so they invited 90 of the native Americans over from next door(some bogan started calling them "Indians" as a joke and the rest is history) for a bit of a cookup. Anyway a couple of years later some pollies thought they'd cash in on this by making it a national holiday. A day to give thanks for their new found nation and for all the great luck that they'd had so far. Not to mention new found friends. And also to make as much money as humanly possible thanks to the invention of crass comercialism.
Now you may be asking, my fellow countrymen, why dont we celebrate Thanksgiving day for the settlement of our own country? The reason is simple. See when our father's father's father's father's fathers ran aground on Australia the first thing they did is start shooting the natives. So we couldn't possibly get away with a holiday celebrating such atrocities. (I would like to point out that my own relatives were no where near Australia at the time. They were busy weaving things for rich people back in jollly old England).
The Yanks however, unsurprisingly, cheated. They started killing the natives a few years AFTER the first Thanksgiving meal, therefore making it perfectly acceptable to have a public holiday. After that it was shoot at anything that moves.
So there you go mates. Now you know all about that strange day called Thanksgiving. Its not JUST an excuse to eat a lot and drink a lot. But now i seem to recall promising id give out my reasons for celebrating Thanksgiving on the fourth Thursday in November in Australia.
On this day we should drink a lot of beer and give thanks that we're not American.
But then again, its not that much different from every other day of the year.
So until next time my fellow tunas,
Happy Thanksgiving!
Pete
NB: A note to my American friends reading this. I do not blame you for your nationality, no matter how patriotic you are. You need to realise that as Australian, we feel the need to bag out everbody, including ourselves. So no worries. She'll be right. | | |
| Finding Huffy
No thats stupid. I refuse. I flatly refuse. Thats the lamest thing I've ever heard in my life. Instead it will be called...
Smockery
----------------
Small pockets of air drifted by - intent on reaching the only goal they'll ever know, to join that great expanse above known as The Up. Seaweed waved gently in the current. Anenemone's basked in the sun that streamed through the deep, ever slowing as the water pushed against it.
Smock was his name. He was a turtle. He'd never been to Galapogos. He wouldn't even if he knew what that was. He wasn't 150 years old. He didn't have a pockmarked shell. He did have that particular pointless gaze of turtles everwhere.
He also thought he was a Lieutenant. In the army.
This by itself was an effort considering his average thought processes went something like "Swim - Eat - Swim - Eat - Do neither - Procreate - Swim - Eat - Find Huffy - Eat - Swim - Eat - Eat more - Swim - Hang on, Huffy?"
Huffy. Somewhere in that peanut sized cerebrum that rang a bell. Who was Huffy? Why was Huffy? What was Huffy? And why the hell should I find him/her/it/them? But there was something else. Obviously he had orders. Find Huffy. Orders. Nothing must prevent him from carrying out orders. They were given by... others... who obviously new much more than him. Like for instance, who they were and what they were doing.
Huffy must be a friendly then. Not an enemy. Must find Huffy the friend. Also apparently Huffy was a shrimp. Whatever one of those was.
By the time all this had been thoroughly thought out (some 5 days) he went and ate something. Then found a female to do something he for some reason thought he had to do, though who knows why. Then he went to find Huffy.
He swam in what seemed like a good enough direction. Straight towards a large group of whatever it is turtles eat. Probably seaweed or something like that. He swam and swam(and ate) until he came to a cave. Well he didn't know it was a cave. Or that it was on the floor of the ocean. He just figured it looked different from water and therefore must be interesting. So in he went.
Silence hit him like an anvil dropped from a large height, like a satellite.
Well actually it was the anchor of a ship. It hit him smack bang in the middle of Smock's shell - pinning him to the ground. About 2 hours later it occured to him that it HURT LIKE HELL.
Suddenly out of the gloom something approached. It was vaguely shrimp-like. Well at least it was as shrimp-like as anything Smock could remember. Though, granted, his memory stretched back about 15 minutes and anything after that was a large empty space. Completely unlike any species of fish. At all. In anyway. Certainly nothing Pixar could think of. Not a chance.
Ahem.
Where was I? Ah yes.
No wait...
Ah of course.
...
So there Smock was, stuck under a half ton anchor. And there was Huffy. Directly in front of his eyes. He looked at the shrimp with roughly the same expression as a frog looking at another frog. The shrimp started to wave its hands about. It was pointing at what would probably pass to the uneducated as a mouth. It seemed to be wanting to tell him something. Ah the shrimp couldn't speak!! It was so obvious!
Of course shrimps can't speak anyway. Therefore all shrimps are mute. But Smock had no way of knowing this. Or much else.
Huffy indicated that he was going to help. He swam towards the anc..
And Smock, his 15 minutes of memory being over, absent mindedly ate him.
Then he remembered that there was a huge lump of molten iron on top of him and died.
Then a mountain fell on the boat.
Then Atlantis fell on the mountain.
And then there was the Second Coming of Christ.
The end.
---------------
Somehow dont think that was as good as the komodo one. But anyway hope you enjoy this anyone who reads this.
All characters in this blog are fictious and are not based on any real or created character. Especially not any animations. Or films in genearal. Or kids books. Or any motion picture companies that use a lamp as a logo and specialize in highly realistic animated pictures. At all. Whatsoever. No question about it. Now bugger off before I get really irritated. | | |
| Hmmm. Xanga. Weblog. Blog. Hmmmm.
This puts me in mind of a heard of large komodo dragons lazing in a steaming mud pool. One snaps at a passing albatross, though there is no heart in it. They talk of the komodo world. How much they love their small, but idealic island. Paradise. They talk of politics. Who's going to win the next election? Certainly much will rest upon the size of the candidates mouths. He who bites best bites last is a common saying. They talk of music. Granted komodos haven't really got the physiology or mental ability to create music, but they're sure going to give it their best shot. They thump their tails. On the ground. Though generally on each other. The younger lizards have come to call this "raving". The adults just complain that back in their day youngins spoke when spoken to.
At this point the females arrive. Immediately the male lizards start trying to impressive them with their lizard macho. They do this by beating the crap out of each other. The females are duly impressed and express this by staring at them with roughly the same stare as that as a cow looking at an oncoming train. After a few minutes of this they all mate passionately for about 5 seconds before the males go back to talking about the score of the latest small skirmish between their tribe and the neighboring tribe of saltwater crocodiles. 21-10. The komodos won this battle. It was a killing. Quite literally.
The sun sets and the lizards gather around the watering hole, enjoying the sunset over the horizon of the expanseless ocean. The last vestiges of light soon flee the sky, and night covers the area, much like it has for the last few thousand years. Eventually the lizards slink off to their individual sleeping holes, some with their mates, others alone. Eventually there is only one left, the alpha male. It is he who controls, leads, guides the clan. He is a massive creature who contends with no one, for no one will fight him. The scars that covers his grey skin are testiment to countless battles, and countless victories.
He sniffs the air suspiciously. But all is quiet. They will rest peaceful tonight. He grunts, satisfied, and wanders off to his rest. Another day finishes.
Then a 3 billion ton meteor hits the island dead on at mach 5, destroying it, and half of the planet, within days.
But such is life. | | |
| Right its been ages again. Not my fault. I blame the evil leprechauns.
I'm going to do a www.xanga.com/slimber22gb and post some song lyrics.
This is the chorus from So Impossible by Dashboard Confessionals. Yes i know shockingly american and teeny but oh well. If you dont like it you can kiss my shiny metal cash register.
Do you, do you like dreaming of things so impossible?
Or only the practical?
Or ever the wild?
Or waiting through all your bad, bad days
Just to end them with someone you care about?
And do you like making out? (yay!)
And long drives?
And brown eyes?
And guys that just don't quite fit in?
Do you like them?
Hmm terribly random there.
Anyway my favourite quote at the moment is whats in my sig at www.matrixfans.net at the moment. From Thief of Time by Terry Pratchett.
The apprentice Clodpool to his master, Wen:
'Master what is the difference between a humanistic, monastic system of belief in which wisdom is sought by means of an apparently nonsensical system of questions and answers, and a lot of mystic gibberish made up on the spur of the moment?'
Wen considered this for some time, and at last said: 'A fish!'
And Clodpool went away, satisfied.
Also from the same novel...
"BIKKIT!"
"WAN 'LEPHANT!"
A reincarnated 900 year old abbot in the body of a 2 year old is always funny.
Well to all my readers let me suggest the MFN RPG. Its going particularly well these days. My character is quite at the centre of things at the moment. Weirded out.
http://forums.matrixfans.net/showthread.php?p=381164#post381164
Well thats enough from me for today. I cant be bothered writing anyting truely original today. So no doubt ill be back in a few months with more excuses on why its been so long.
Until then, in the words of the great Spike Milligan...
"He's fallen in the water!" | | |
|
