February 28, 2007

The Family Stone

Finally, after all this time I have finally got to see The Family Stone. The Other Andrew spent some time rating the bangability of the male cast members and while I chipped in on the comments at the time having not seen it, I now stand by my list after seeing the movie.

1. Luke Wilson

2. Dermot Mulroney
3. Paul Schneider
4. Tyrone Giordano
5. Jamie Kaler
6. Robert Dioguardi
7. Brian J White
8. Craig T Nelson

Luke Wilson is great. He plays the scruffy old brother Ben, and seems to channel Owen in the process. For once he’s not the clean cut preppy type, but the loony three day growth type and I would have to say he’s moved into my list of ten and gone straight to the top.

He says a line to SJP’s character Meredith when they are in the pub together about how there is something about her that people just don’t get, which I thought was a stroke of genius ‘You have a freak flag, you just don’t fly it’

Overall the movie tackles a few interesting topics during its 102 minutes but manages it well and with humour without losing the importance of each of the messages.

February 27, 2007

A Reasonable Update

There have been a few things happening recently and due to my being a social butterfly I just haven’t found the time to sit and write. Today though, I have decided to sit and update you on the happening of my life in reverse order.

First Night back at Uni
Last night I started back at University. This semester is going to be interesting from a time management point of view ‘cause I have two classes on two nights (Monday and Tuesday). In the past I’ve managed to schedule both classes on the same day so I haven’t lost too much free time and been able to plan my study time better. I hope this way works out too.

When I walked into the Uni building last night I had to walk a gauntlet of 18-20 year olds trying to get me to join their chosen cause.
‘Sign a partition against the War!’ Which War?
‘Join the Christian coalition.’ Get away from me.
‘How can socialism help you?’ I don’t know and I don’t care.
‘Are you suffering from depression?’ Only at the fact I can’t walk un-accosted by students who seem to be devoting their time to activities other than studying.

Also, what’s with the freaky-arse hair-do’s?

Edna’s Birthday Bash
On Saturday Edna had a drinkie-poos to celebrate her birthday. It was due to start at six in a not so salubrious establishment in Newtown. By 7.30 she had had three cancellation text messages and still her only company was Hubby, myself and Moohosive Moose. She was, understandably disappointed at the lateness of the cancellations. By 9, everyone else had turned up, so all was OK. Edna never had less than three bottles of Strongbow on the go at once, so it was all extremely good.


The Red Dot
As you know the in-laws are in town. On Friday night Edna and I escaped the confines of the city to drink a bottle of wine and watch a movie in peace. When we got to the house it was very clean, not a problem, until I noticed that the kitchen had been cleaned to the point where the red dot on the tap (the hot water dot) had been scrubbed away. Then I opened the cupboards and all my jars had been lined up like little soldiers with labels facing out. THEN, I went to the loo and my shampoo was lined up like a display in Coles.

And this man denies having OCD!


Sorry the pictures are a bit bt blurry, but they were taken on my phone, and i may have been shaking!

February 22, 2007

I like Big Boats...

...does that make me a nerd?

At the weekend The Oriana was in the harbour, on Tuesday both the Queen Mary II and Queen Elizabeth II pulled into the harbour. The QMII was so big she didn’t fit into Circular Quay and had to moor in down the road while QEII nabbed a sweet spot at the International Terminal.

Tonight I happened to be in Kirribilli (opposite Circular Quay, for those not in the know) as the QEII was leaving, so I got the first chance to see her moving since 1982 in Southampton when she got back from taking troops to the Falkland Island. I remember sitting on Hythe pier with my Mum and Nan watching her return home and my Nan being really excited about it.

(123 words)



QEII pulling out with Sydney City behind

QEII with the Opera House peeking out from behind
and two Harbour ferries in front

Belly-Dancing Groupies

Edna and I went ‘belly-dancing’ last night, as we always do on a Wednesday night. It became a bit of a regular thing a few months ago when we stopped working together. Wednesdays are Sushi, Belly-Dancing (aka a pint or maybe, two), Over Analysis and a Swim night. We only make it to the pool about a 3rd of the time;-)

Last night we had a major weekend debrief to do plus she had to dump Steps (see entry for Friday night). After a fairly fun, but intense weekend she had told him on Monday morning that she would call him on Thursday evening ‘cause she was busy until then. So he texted her…30odd times and when she didn’t return the texts, he called her and left messages. It had got to the point by Wednesday afternoon where she couldn’t pick up the phone and had a face like thunder because of the stress of it all.

After much consultation with other friends at work (yes, she does have other buddies) it was decided that he had to go. So after a ‘courtship’ of just 4 days, she was going to dump him. The general consensus was that due to the lengthy duration of the ‘relationship’ a phone dumping was acceptable.

So after Sushi, that’s what she did while I popped into the supermarket. It was all over…a weight was lifted.

We were wrong…as we sat and drank the first Strongbow of the evening he texted saying that ‘cause of all the bulls*it he’d never have a relationship again. She ignored it. Twenty minutes later he texted again, this time asking if they could still be friends. This went on …and on…and on. As far as I’m aware there have been no texts today.

All the drama, laughter and cider inspired us to come up with the 4P’s of dating. A joint effort that rates the following of each potential boyfriend. Each of the following is scored out of 10 with a maximum rating of 40.

Personality – Does he make me laugh? Does he make weird sweeping statements about things he knows nothing about? Does have similar interests? Is he safe to air to your friends?
Performance – Does he make my toes curl? Does he do things you never knew you could do? Does he do the hokey pokey? Is he aware that hickies are totally unacceptable after the age of 12?
Presentation – Does he have holes in his socks? How does he smell? Does he give a pash rash that rivals a radiation accident scrub down? Does the six pack on his stomach rival the six pack in his fridge?
Post-Coital – How does he behave after the deed? Is he still exhibiting the niceness of before or does he just say ‘OK, let’s get you home sweetie?’ Can he remember your name?

Needless to say, this was a two-thirds night. But we did get to be groupies for the acoustic guitar player that is always on, on a Wednesday!

(461 words)


Credit where credit's due : Thanks to Edna for the contributions in purple and for allowing me to share her story ;-)

February 21, 2007

Starvin’ Marvin

I not sure why, but today I am absolutely starving. I had my usual large fruit salad for breakfast and have been keeping myself reasonably busy this morning, but by 11.45 I had to eat my lunch.

Normally I could blame boredom, but not today, I have been emailing Edna with dating advice (like I’m an expert or someink ;-), writing the ‘in the news’ for the next alpaca magazine, editing poems from my group last night and I actually did a little work. So I don’t think boredom is the answer.

Any ideas…and NO, I don’t have worms (before anyone suggests it)!

(103 words)

February 20, 2007

Swimming 19

The first swim since last Wednesday was brief, again, 'cause i'm going out. Only 20 lengths in 15.14. I figure it's better than nothing and I did power walk over to UTS and back from work at lunchtime.

February 19, 2007

Tour Guide Extraordinaire – Day Two

The day started earlier with me meeting H and C at their hotel again. Our destination of the day was Bondi Beach. The weather was divine, but due to a little bit too much exposure on Saturday I was required to ‘go granny’. The high necked shirt, long sleeves and hat. I had even worn sunscreen!

We got a cab and arrived at the beach in time for lunch. So we choose to dine at Nick’s on the Beach, a seafood eatery with a great view. The sands that stretched out in front of us were white and covered in bodies. Some were brown and well able to handle the souring heat, but others where quite clearly from red headed stock or far northern Europe and where rapidly becoming the colour of the lobster on the platter we had ordered. Ironically enough, despite the faces pulled at dinner the night before, the oyster were the first things eaten.

After lunch we went for a walk on the surf line. At the end of the beach we sat on rocks and watched the seagulls fishing in the shallows. H and I didn’t feel the need to constantly chatter as we had covered so much the day before and we sank into a restful, comfortable silence.

We wedged ourselves onto a bus for the trip back to the city before H & I went up the Centerpoint Tower. C stayed on the ground and waited for us to come down. We then walked through Hyde Park, down Macquarie Street and through the Botanical Gardens, where H took full advantage of walking on the grass.

Our day and time together ended where it had begun, the City Extra 24 hour café for a cuppa tea.

It was quite sad to wave goodbye as she and her hubby walked through the barriers to the train. I walked back to Oxford Street slowly (two blocks from the flat) for dinner alone and wished, no, reflected for the first time in a very long time that I could get back to the UK more often to see my family. Then I got a text message from my Hubby telling me he was having dinner in Lone Star with his parents and I was glad I didn’t get back to the UK that often, ‘cause I’d have to see them too!

(394 words)


UPDATED : 12.34 22/2/07

I wrote a poem today about H's visit.

Tour Guide Extraordinaire - Day One

After the late night/early morning on Friday I was kinda glad I had agreed to meet my sister and her hubby at 12.30 in the lobby of their hotel in the Rocks. I wasn’t hungover but I was feeling tired and really like I wanted to have a day in bed. But family called and I answered.

I haven’t seen my sister H for over seven years. In that time she has divorced, met and new fella (C) and married him and lost her eldest son to the disease that made him sick his whole life. So to be truthful I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but I planned to show them some of Sydney and generally catch up.

We started, in grand British tradition with a cuppa tea and a light lunch. I have to confess to not really remembering what we talked about, but it was lovely and we did decide that we would make the trip over to Manly on the ferry. On the ferry over we talked about B (her son) and how I hadn’t called her because I knew she didn’t need one more person saying ‘sorry’. She understood and said the card I had sent had meant a lot and all the cards and flowers had been buried under a pergola at the bottom of her garden.

Upon our arrival in Manly I introduced H to Copenhagen Ice-cream, with a double scoop of Strawberry and Maple Macadamia I gave her the mission of finishing it before we reached the other end of the Corso. It was Hot on Saturday and as soon as we stepped out of air conditioned shop the ice-cream did it’s best to melt away. By the time we had reached the Beach and far end of the Corso, H had melted, sticky ice-cream covering her hand and down to her elbow. She admitted to having never seen even her children get so messy. The blue-bottles (jellyfish) in the water meant that she and C had to paddle in a tiny hole I dug that filled with water. But they got to stand in water on Manly Beach, so they were happy.

A walk took us to another beach (Delwood) were C sat and had a cigarette and watched while H and I went looked in Rock Pools. The ferry trip back to the city was more chatting and the start of sunset over the bridge and Opera House.

We had dinner at Doyles on the Quay. H and C both tried Sydney Rock oysters for the first time. I don’t think they will go out of their way to eat them in the future, but they didn’t spit them out. We drank some nice 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon from the Coonawarra while we ate and chatted more. We reminisced about our childhood, shared gossip and opinion about our sisters and laughed about the incident with the ice-cream earlier. We even spoke about B but I had to change the subject when she started to look wet in the eyes. C looked on and said several times, 'it's good to finally met you', 'you sound just like your mum' and 'you haven't seen each other for years'.

I saw them to their hotel and agreed to meet them again at ten on Sunday. I walked home thinking about how a mother should never have to see her child die.

(541 words)

Burning in Hell

It’s that time of the month again, the time where Edna and I get dressed up like tarts and party ‘til dawn, Hellfire! Trixy bailed out on Wednesday 'cause he had a better shag offer and Sam, well Sam really let us down by cancelling just as we arrived by text message (we had been due to meet him there). Edna aka Lara Croft and I (aka Domina) spent the evening avoiding what we thought at the start of the evening quite a cute guy. But he got steadily more and more hammered until he was trying to make us stay with him. Word of advice, don’t try and make a kick boxer stay by grabbing her by the shoulders. It doesn’t end well!

We had been musing earlier over a glass of booze that it was only a matter of time before we saw someone we knew parading around. The sight of Edna’s boxing instructor making out with a girl and dressed as a police woman confirmed a few things in Edna’s mind and confirmed for me that Sydney, really is a big country town.

I have to confess, that it wasn’t the best night I’ve ever had, The weird hammered guys, loosing my flogger only to find it again being used by a stranger on the bare a*se of another stranger (Eww!), friends not turning up and feeling like I really was in the fires of hell dressed in a black PVC corset and skirt.

We left at just before three am, alone but merry and ready for debrief and over analysis of the evening back at the flat. Edna, however, with her amazing powers of seduction (I sware she has some sort of Magic dust) pulled purely by walking up the stairs.

‘Come and have a drink with me so we can get to know each other,’ he (for sake of it, we’ll call him Steps) says to her

After a few moments of exchange, she’s drinking and I’m going home alone. Twenty minutes later she arrives at mine after getting him to walk her home.

We did our debrief and rolled into bed at 4.30am.

(358 words)

February 15, 2007

Giving Love The Slip

The evening of St. Valentines Day started with Sushi at the Harbourside Sushi Train. The choice was a bit slim on the fastest train in the west, but that may have been due to it not being quite six o’clock when we started. By the time we left all the good stuff was coming out, but Edna and I were full. Five plates plus Miso and a green tea is fine, anymore would just be piggy!

We arrived at the Slip Inn just after seven. As we entered the building we were given a sticker with a number on it. We had been marked with the Shag Tags. The idea behind this is, send a text message to the Number provided, the message appears on the screen and hopefully you pull. We pulled our first glass of free champagne and found a seat over looking the beer garden.

Being the critical bitches that we are, Edna and I came to the conclusion that there was a good reason some of the people there. We had our second glass of champagne and started talent spotting. We came to the realisation pretty quickly that it really was a good thing that neither of us where there to pull.

A change in vantage point didn’t make the desperation in the room any less …well…desperate! So we settled in and watched the screens sending their messages out to the world. Some were funny, some were so old they had cobwebs and others were so English.

:-)Well h-e-l-l-o boys, from xxxx
:-)That cigarette burn really hurt you idiot!
:-)My shag tags better than yours, it's red for a start. Come and see xxx
:-)1206 Your hot!
:-)Fancy a foursome come see xxx
:-)Virren, Virren, What kind of a name is that? Where your parents hippies or summit?
:-)You must be from outta space, 'cause I can see stars in your eyes
:-)do you have a map cause I keep getting lost in your eyes
:-)2 guys required for a bang contact xxx
:-)do you have any raisins, if not fancy a date?
:-)Im from the FBI the Fabulous Body Inspectors, assume the position!
:-)apart for being sexy what do you do for a living
:-)1241 you have big balls
:-)Roses are red. Violets are blue. I have an xxx and now 801, so do you too
:-)You must be going to hell cause it’s a sin to look so good
:-)Who let the dogs out and why are they all at the Slip Inn

We got chatted up too, even though we were clearly making no effort. A pair a travelling Scotsmen asked Edna for a blow job, she kindly declined on the grounds of having only known them for ten minutes. When asked if she would consider it later she phrased the dismissal slightly harsher.

I was targeted by a short bullish guy from Johannesburg wearing a red FBI shirt. He kept coming back even after I told him I was married, now that dedication to getting laid. He left about 11 ‘cause he had to get up early for work. I really didn’t need to know that!

Edna and I left about half midnight along with all the other desperados when they closed the bar. We walked up to the Three Monkeys for a night cap, had one, but the Hungry Jacks across the street called to us with its siren song, promising flame grilled burgers and fries.

All in all a good night was had. I got to see how the single life could be and Edna got to be sad and ever so slightly depressed by the amount of non-gay-talent in Sydney. Both of us suffered from multiple-apoplexy from the terrible spelling and grammar usage in text messages.

This morning I’m feeling a tad over hung and have drunk two cups of tea to counteract the effects of the late night fries.

(633 words)


UPDATED : 20:09 15-2-07

I should have mentioned this earlier, but the entry was already moohosive, but it’s been bugging me that I left it out, so here it is.

When the free champagne ran out, Edna and I decided to continue drinking it so, of course we had to start paying for it. After a bit of confusion between Edna and the Barmaid, two glasses of the fizzy stuff sat before us with a demand for $12. Edna gave her a $20 note and got $6.40 change. Not normally the change for twelve dollars, so we tried to work out if we had missed heard her, and figured she'd confused the 20cent pieces for dollar coins. Maybe we had missheard her request for money...after all twelve and thirteen sixty sound alike don't they?. So we asked ourselves what rhymes with twelve?

The next round was mine and I was paid $13.60, the next round was also $13.60

Henceforth, $13.60 will be known as Schwelve!

February 14, 2007

Luncheon Dip

‘Cause I’m going out straight after work today I decided to squeeze my swimming into my lunch break. So, due to time constraints I only did 30 lengths and it took me 22.26. The rest of my seventy minute break was made up of walking home/back to work (approx four blocks), getting changed and showering. Lunch was consumed at my desk about ten minutes ago ;-)

Something I Forgot

I witnessed something funny on Saturday I wanted to write about, but the whole hideousness of the In-laws visit got in the way. So here goes.

Hubby and I were in Bondi Junction shopping centre browsing in EzyDVD. There was a mother and son in there too. The boy was about five or six years old and was sent to find something he might like while Mum looking at the new releases. I was standing near the kid when he held up a case and shouted ‘I want this one mummy, it got a doggie in it.’

Mum came over and took the case and slowly placed Stephen King’s Cujo back on the rack as she said, ‘No darling, that’s a scary movie. How about the new Wiggles?’

(128 words)

February 13, 2007

Swimming 17

50 lengths in 35.16. I’ve either improved since Sunday or I really did lose count and jump straight from 45 – 47.

One down, too many to go

The in-laws have been here not quite a day. In fact they had been here little under five hours before they started irritating Before they had even given their son a hug hello Father-in-Law (FIL) was complaining about how heavy the hand luggage was ‘cause of the stuff they had to buy in duty free. They offered, Hubby asked!

(Incidentally who was the cute guy with clown feet checking me out (and vice versa) in Arrivals? He was about 5’10” or 11” with short dark hair, and orange and white striped shirt and black trousers. Nice butt and enormous feet. I recognise him, but can’t for the life of my recall were I’ve seen him)

I drove out of the airport and into the city, FIL in the passenger seat, hubby behind me and Mother-in-Law. FIL starts telling us about the flight and how he ate a pound and half of Werther’s Orignals and hadn’t had any sleep for 36 hours. Then he started talking about his trains bearings (he’s a train nut and is currently refurbing a diesel engine). I asked when he learnt how to speak a foreign language. That went over his head. So I told him I was driving and a microsleep can kill. That went over his head too, So I told him trains are boring and he should wait until I wasn’t driving to tell that story.

I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like playing nice just at the moment.

After we put them in their hotel in the middle of Chinatown, we had to have something to eat. Now normally Hubby and I would go to Don King’s House of Pancakes (really called BBQ King) but FIL doesn’t eat ‘foreign muck’ so we ended up in the only place that did reasonably bland food. Delafrance on the corner of Goulburn and George, it’s open 24 hours for tea and sandwiches. It was gone 10pm so our choice was limited for a Monday night. A egg mayonnaise roll with lettuce and grated carrot proved to be exotic for FIL while MIL raved about a chocolate croissant. Once again we heard about the Werther’s and the lack of sleep for 36 hours before FIL had a go about my driving. When I told him to pack it in, he told the story of the train bearings again and something about Werther’s Orignals and sleep.

We put them back in the hotel at 11pm. I’d missed my swim and was quite frankly exhausted but the last few hours. Today Hubby has driven them to the house for the rest of the week. Of course it’s filthy, so I’m sure they will spend the next few days cleaning my house. As long as they put everything back were they find it, I say Let ‘em. Let's just hope they don’t find my BDSM book stash!

I must swim tonight! Release the tension.

(485 words)

February 11, 2007

Swimming 16

With a much earlier start time than last night, I managed 50 lengths in 36minutes and 36 seconds. I also figured out that trying to tell the time on the clock on the wall when I'm sans glasses is not the best way to time keep, so I dug out my stop watch.

The in-laws arrive tomorrow.

Swimming 15

I finally got to the pool at 11.20pm tonight, I did a measly 23 lengths in 20 minutes. I stopped when my legs had sunk so low in the pool that I hit the bottom with my toes. Oww! But then I suppose that's better than nothing.

After a rub down in the shower with my Lux Reflects and Illuminates (the purple one :-) I was inspired to write these.

February 10, 2007

Something to See

OK, a couple weeks ago I mentioned that my in-laws are coming to town. A couple of days ago my eldest sister announced she would be in town the weekend of the 17/18 Feb. That also happens to be the first weekend that that In-laws are here.

There are now things to see. Hubby and I had our first (of many I’m sure) argument about his parents. My sister does not like his Dad, they met at our wedding and I haven’t seen my sister for seven years or even met her husband, whom she married three years ago. Hubby seems to think that by me not spending my time with him and his parents I’m being selfish, but is quite happy for me to say to my sister, ‘Sorry, I can’t see you after you made the effort to come to Sydney ‘cause I have to spend time with my in-laws.’

Who’s being selfish?

(155 words)

PS. This is my 200th entry.

Impromptu Groupie Action

Edna had a really rough day at work and needed to attend a dinghy pub and have a glass of wine. I had had a day filled with meetings, so joined her with gusto.

After dinner at the Sushi Bus with hubby, we went off to The Macquarie, but rather than drinking wine, we started on the Strongbow Dry. The sexy barman had grown a beard which made him considerably less sexy and the consensus was, we don’t like beards. Apparently it’s tradition for Irish men to shave of their beards off for St. Patricks day, so he’s be sexy again by the middle of March.

At 8.30 a band started. Now as it would happen, Edna and I been in this pub before and this band had been playing, so technically, having seen them more than once makes us Groupies! Yah! The band DBussy play sunk/soul/groove (whatever!) and started off really well, but the end of their second set seemed to have got really loud and the lead singer was screaming a lot. So we left.

The Brighton, on the corner of Oxford Street and Riley Street. Music was provided by a video jukebox playing mostly eighties rock with bad mullets haircuts. Liquid refreshment came in the form of more Strongbow Dry in glasses kindly fetched by the bouncer that kept flirting. We talked about her lunch date with Del-Boy, her interview and how the silly tart of a boss made completely unprofessional comments straight after asking her seven competency questions. We talked about boys (goes without saying really), drink and plans for the continuation of her birthmonth. Also we made plans to visit the Slip Inn (famous for introducing Prince Fred of Denmark to Mary of Tassie) on Valentines Day for a ‘Anti Love’ night with ‘non of that coupley stuff’.

I rolled in at just after three in the morning and feel surprising good.

(317 words)

February 9, 2007

Some Groupie Action - Take One

I met my cousin R for drinks tonight. We met in the same pub we met in last year. Our parents give us grief ‘cause we’re not hanging out together on a weekly basis, just because we happen to live in the same city.

He brought along his girl, C too. They have just got engaged, and it’s his birthday soon, so we had to meet up, exchange family histories and the benefits of the English drinking copious amounts of tea.

However, the band I thought I might try and become a groupie for was also playing tonight. They are called Don’t Eat My Lettuce and were chosen by the extremely scientific manner of - they have a daft name.

So after a couple of drinks, and a explanation of my New Years resolution, the three of us walked across town to the Mandarin Club, a delightfully grotty place that does karaoke in the basement, pokies on the ground floor and rather splendid food on the first. As the bands had a while before starting we decided to have a bite to eat. We got to eating and chatting and R and me proved ourselves to be our mothers children by talking so much we completely missed the bands! The only thing lacking (from it being a conversation between our parents) where the fags and tea.

I did put my foot it in at one point when we started on religion, stem cell research and hypocrisy (our families are NOT religious) when I said it was weird and I didn’t get it, only to discover he’d got religion about three years ago and attends church regularly. On the plus side he does think Catholics are tad extreme.

Take One at become a groupie failed.

(283 words)

February 8, 2007

Swimming 14 (Wrinkled Prune)

After dinner in the Sushi Bus and a quick half with Edna we went swimming. When we got to the pool it was like Piccadilly Circus compared to what I’m used too.

There was a girl in the spa, who got out about five minutes after we had arrived and promptly started doing lengths of crawl (show off). The pool is just wide enough to have two people passing, so Edna and I were relegated (with our lady-like breaststroke) to chatting and over analyzing her upcoming rendezvous. We came to the conclusion that he is going to be a fat ginger bloke with a Del-boy car and a camel coat, and he’s going to bring his kids along. In the past all of our musings have been far away from the truth, so we’re hoping to have got it right again this time.

We moved to the spa and relaxed like decedent tarts until we were joined by my new neighbour D. He’s in the Navy and has just got back from four years overseas and seems to have a passion for curtains, cocktails and cats.

We finally got to do our lengths. I ended up doing 20 lengths after an hour in the water, but quite frankly after all that, my heart just wasn’t in it.


(221 words)

February 6, 2007

Pickles

40 lengths in just under thirty minutes of lady-like breast stroke tonight. I was distracted. I was thinking about a conversation I overheard today on my walk back from lunch.

It’s been sneaking into my mind since about one thirty when I was walking behind two guys up Goulburn Street. Both were tall and from their outlines fairly fit, and they both had brown close cropped hair and nice arses. Anyway back to the conversation…at first it seemed fairly innocent, weekend plans, girlfriends and drinking. Then one asked the other what he did after work when he got home.

‘Yank my gherkin.’

I had to stop and look in a shop window I was laughing so hard, I didn’t hear the response, but I’m fairly sure it would have fitted into the TMI category.

Once I had recovered I got to thinking, why would a man pick a gherkin as a metaphor for his penis? (In grand tradition I’m going to over-analyse now) I mean, gherkins are normally about three or four centimeters long and about one wide. Now dill cucumbers tend to be bigger, maybe he meant that, but still not the most impressive of pickled food stuffs. Surely none pickled, a cucumber would be better Even a horse carrot, white radish or zucchini might be a better choice, but the smallest of elongated vegetables. Why?

Maybe it was the first thing that popped into his head, but again Why? Is he trying to underplay the size of his massive member or purely being truthful. We will never know, but I for one will wonder for quite some time.


(269 words)


Image provided by Dreamstime.com

February 5, 2007

Labels

I noticed something when posting today. A new box at the bottom of the 'Create New Entry’ page. You type in subject labels and it means that all you blog entries can be sorted by looking for a particular subject. For instance, this entry is about ‘blogging’. If you click on the little green word that says blogging below, all the entries about blogging will be filtered out and presented on one page. Magic!

I’ve only been through the January entries marking them with labels so far, maybe one day when I’m extra busy I’ll do the rest.

Swimming 12

40 lengths in 22 minutes of ladylike breast stroke tonight made me think that maybe it’s time to be doing not-so-ladylike breast stroke again.

Time to bring out the goggles again. Sexy!

The Rundown of the Putdown (alpacas involved, always long)

Once Saturday had started (at the crack of lunchtime) the day was extremely pleasant and relaxed. Just what I needed after a hard week at work (making up education puzzle and reading gay porn) to recover and refresh myself for this week when I have a new Project Manager starting.

Experience tells me this is never good. Every time I have been involved in a change of PM half way through a project it has always ended with me being out on my arse. Not because I’m bad (at least I never been told that) but because of working styles or requirements. Actually having written that I sound like I am crap! Anyway, that’s a different story by the sounds of it.

Back to my weekend.

Saturday, lunch was followed by a spot of shopping at the Junction of Bondi shopping centre. We, that would be Hubby and I took complete advantage of Westfield and managed, purely by chance, to get back to the car park in 1hour and 57 minutes. Free Parking for us. Thank you very much.

At 6 o’clock we were due to met Edna for dinner and then on to the Moonlight Cinema at Centennial Park, the first of many Birthmonth celebrations. I met her, but hubby remembered at the last minute that he had to do the Treasurers report for the alpaca meeting the following morning. So he joined us at about 6.45. By which time Edna and I had over analysed boys, their motivation and why they smell so good (at times).

The movie was Casino Royale, Hubby and I had already seen it but Edna hadn’t and was keen to make her mind up about a ‘ging-er’ Bond. As it turns out he is now up there with Timothy Dalton as her favourite. (I never said she had any taste in Bonds).

On the way back to the car and killing time before joining the back of the queue getting out of the park Edna spotted movement in a tree. Further inspection resulted in her seeing a flying fox for the first time ‘in the wild’.

After dropping Edna of at home, Hubby and I debated the merits of getting up at 6.30am on a Sunday morning to drive for three hours to a meeting were it was highly likely we were going to be subject to some form of abuse, whether it be subtle and covert or obvious. We decide that we couldn’t leave our El Presidente to fend for herself and resolved ourselves to five hours sleep.

We arrived in the heart of the Hunter Valley and the alpaca farm where the meeting was being held with two minutes to spare. We had stopped for an emergency Maccas (egg and bacon McHash brown, more fat than I normally consume in a week but yummy and fortifying), which had slowed us down by ten minutes. The Committee meeting was fine; we were in the garage while those attending the OGM gather outside in the carport. We made decisions, and all got along nicely. At five to eleven we close that meeting and moved towards the OGM. Hubby went outside, then came straight back in and said, ‘Have you taken your drugs, she’s here.’

After downing my daily dose of Atacand and Zanidip I braced myself and walked out. She was there. The Cantankerous Old Bat (COB) and her Short Husband (SH) had placed themselves in the back row and centre. As anyone who knows anything about public speaking/teaching the snipers always, always sit centre back. That means they cause maximum destruction and everyone has to turn around to look at them when they speak.

The meeting starting and proceeded peacefully until it came to the Treasurers report. Hubby presented his report and announced the region had a massive amount of cash in the bank. Then COB stands up and starts speaking, sorry not speaking, barking she launched into a tirade about how the trade debtor’s amount from November had changed from the November report to this report and that it was all wrong. When Hubby said ‘I can explain’ she started shouting that he was wrong, it was all wrong, he did the books wrong and anything he said would be wrong. Hubby tried to respond, she ignored him, she even ignored other members saying, ‘I would like to hear the Treasurers response’.

It all got messier, when Hubby stood up, pointed in a down motion and shout ‘COB, why don’t you just sit down and shut the f*ck up!’

At this point another member leap up and shouted ‘Mind the language please, there are children present,’ referring to a 13 year old. Another demanded an apology. Hubby agree and apologised to all present except COB. Then he said, ‘If I’m doing such a sh*it job, I will not continue. I resign!’ and walked out.

After a little pause, a few gasps and discussion on the lack of a Treasurer to continue reporting it was decided to move to the next item on the agenda, The Newsletter report.

I was up.

I gave my report, asked for submissions, gave deadline dates and announced that as of the end of the financial year I was resigning due to other commitments. Out of teh corner of my eye I could see her smirking.

Then it was my turn to be barked at. Unfortunately, as Hubby had already left I had to stand there and take it, but I shut her down. When SH muttered ‘bribery and corruption,’ regarding free advertisement to make up for errors and in payment for articles, I said (without looking at him) ‘This is standard process in the publishing industry’.
‘How would YOU know about that?’ was shouted

‘I have been published in several non-alpaca magazines and I’m studying for a Master in Writing.’

As the meeting continued I was shaking. The hostess returned, after leaving at the same time Hubby and she had been crying, but was still white.

General Business was called and COB got stuck into me again about the 2007 Regional Calendar. This time, she seemed to step over an invisible line for many members when she stated that everyone who had sponsored a month was unhappy. (incidently, she neither sponsored or had animals involved) A couple of sponsors were there and one stood up and said, ‘I am extremely happy with the calendar and my ad. It was made clear to me from the start that my details would not appear under a picture of my animals.’ This must be the way to tell someone to shut the f*ck up when you're in the Salvation Army. It worked, so I’m not complaining.

The meeting was closed a little time later after a few other things were discussed and by all accounts COB and SH left without saying goodbye to anyone. I was inundated with people apologising to me for her behaviour. Why do people do that? It’s lovely and makes you feel loved and cared for, but why, ohh why do we do it? I do it too. I found myself saying sorry to the hostess for COB’s appalling attack on my Hubby. Hostess took lunch out to him while he was still sat in the car, while I fielded support at the house, for two hours. One lady, in her fifties with braids, who always attends meetings and never says a word, came up to me and said ‘If she’d spoken to like that, I’d have lumped ‘er one’.

In all we spent fourteen hours, that we will never get back, discussing alpaca politics. Not alpacas and their cute big brown eyes and nice soft fleece, but politics. Trust me when I say it’s not nearly as entertaining as having your foot broken.

(over 1000 words, sorry! ;-)

February 3, 2007

Swimming 11 & A Night Out with Trixy

Friday night before going I swam 32 lengths in 25 minutes of ladylike breaststroke.

After swimming I dressed and went over to Trixy's place for a couple of glasses of rather fine wine. While he dressed in leather pants and a blue US Navy vest, I waited in my school skirt, white shirt, red tie and black and white tartan corset. We caught a cab to VICE, and gossiped about the usual girlie stuff. I introduced him to the owner of the club and a few regulars and we had a game of pool.

Trixy is crap at pool. Better than me, but still crap:-) The others we played doubles with , were also pretty bad. One spectacular game ended when the Black was sunk. Which considering it took ten minutes to get the balls together between each game was a little disappointing.

A good night was had by all when we rolled in at 4.20am

One bad thing, at 6ish when I got up briefly, my heel cracked.



(150 words)

February 1, 2007

Swimming 10

30 lenghts of lady breast stroke in twenty-five minutes plus 10 minutes of aqua aerobics.