» Ignoring Instructions

IMPLIED INSTRUCTIONS....about axes
My Dad is the king of using spanners as hammers and screwdrivers as chisels.

My Grandfather (Dad's father in law) is the king of tools. Everything is sharp and clean. It's all in perfect working order. He has a dozen different hammers, one for any given situation. He has several dozen different screwdrivers. He had 5 different axes. All sharp and in perfect condition despite being 30 years old.

So my Dad borrows his big axe. And comes back to our house. And takes the pristine and ancient axe....

And chops A CAR in half.

My Dad is so cool.
(Mon 8th May 2006, 9:58, More)

» Intense Friendships

hey, you're tall. yep, you're fat. yep, lets be friends.
My mate Stick(tm) is a buddy most would envy. He and I have spent many nights cooking things for no apparent reason. We made pasta. We made sausages. We bought 20kgs of chicken bones on a whim to make stock. We mostly talk about food and then eat. Sometimes we look at girls while we eat but mostly we eat. And drink.

He is the sort of guy who agrees to a road trip from Sydney to Melbourne (1000kms each way) for a gyros (similar to a kebab) from Lamb's in Carlton. I can recommend that as a trip.

Things have reached a situation where I email him if I eat something good and he sends me photos of his latest self made kitchen gadget.

He has even given up a lucrative career in IT to pursue the upper echelons of the ice cream industry www.patandstick.com.au/

The only regret I have is that being gay is illegal...
(Sat 29th Jul 2006, 21:25, More)

» School Sports Day

Relay handovers....SLOW DOWN
I was a sport nut as a kid. I played everything and would try everything. The only thing was that I was quite large. I could move quickly over very short distances but would tire quickly. I was great at strength events, for 6 years at secondary school I won all the discus, shotput and javelin events and represented my region in the same. Come to the second last year and I was House Captain (Yay Tanjil). Of course I was committed to my house, even to the point where I was willing to run the first leg of the 4 x 100m relay.

I am now 6 feet 2 inches tall and about 160Kgs (370ish pounds). When I was in school I was slim by comparison but still inches taller and probably 30 kgs heavier than the closest fellow relay team member.

The gun went and I gave it all I had, keeping up for about 25 metres. By the time i had reached the handover point I was completely knackered and slowing like a skateboard with a stone under a wheel. The guy who I had to hand the baton to was a good friend and made generous allowance for my lack of speed, he ran slow to let me catch up but alas not slow enough. He was yelling at me to run faster but I was almost spent. FOr what seemed like an age I tried in vain to hand him the baton before screaming "FOR F#CK SAKE SLOW DOWN YOU BASTARD!!".

Right in front of the majority of the crowd. I don't think I have ever heard such a laugh from a crowd of sporting spectators. I also saw first hand how a person runs when you hand them the baton and making them piss their pants laughing.

At least we got the point for the house. I never ran in an athletic event again.
(Tue 4th Apr 2006, 13:51, More)

» Crap meals out

I feel icky...
Since moving to London from sunny Australia the number of bad meals is so numerous that I have stopped counting. My favourites are...

1. We caught a bus with other smelly tourists to Salisbury to see Stonhenge and the cathedral. We went to an 800 year pub as recommended. We were broke so I ordered the cheapest thing, a baked potato with sour cream, can't go wrong. Out came a potato that had been in the oven for a week and was dry and tough. The sour cream was quite obviously sweetened whipped cream for desserts with lemon juice in it. When I complained to the waitress she confirmed that the chef does indeed mix lemon juice and the whipped cream to make 'sour cream'. She then wandered off like she was asked this all the time. I can't describe the disgusting taste of the meal.

2. A pub in north London. My wife ordered the curry special. The waiter come out with the food and is apologetic that they have run out of naan bread and have substituted a normal bread roll, we aren't bad people so we tell him that it's no problem and begin our meal. My wife breaks off a bit of the bread to dip in the curry sauce and tells me its a bit stale, and when i have some it is stale but since it's being dipped in hot curry it isn't a problem. The third bit broken off has a large spot of mould on it, she turns the roll over and it's covered in mould spots. We call the waiter over and point this out to him, he looks at the roll and says that's terrible. And walks away. Never to return. Not with a replacement roll. Not with an apology. Nothing.

3. And every single fast food place in the country is disgusting and dirty especially the kebab shops. Even McDonalds and Burger King are filthy and unkempt. Except the fish and chip shops, they are tasty and dirty.

I still however seem to gain weight.
(Sun 30th Apr 2006, 19:29, More)

» Never Meet Your Heroes

soooo famous
You probably have to be Australian for most of these...

I met Chocolate Starfish in a pool on Hamilton Island. Very tame boys that day.

My wife spilled a drink on Doc Neeson, lead singer of the Angels and the lead singer of the Celibate Rifles tried unsuccessfully to pick her up.

I met Gerry Connolly (the impersonator) in a bar on an island off the Queensland coast. He couldn't have cared less.

I got stoned with the guys from Painters and Dockers, they are good guys.

My wife went to school with Peter Andre, he was a weed with no friends and not many people liked him because he was a wanker.

My great uncle was Boris Karloff.

But, the biggest dissappointment was the woman who played Molly in A Country Practice in the 80's. My wife met her and she was extremely rude and dismissive of my wife who idolised her.
(Mon 29th May 2006, 18:16, More)