In 2012…..
I’ve had enough. Yeah, I know we’re only a couple of days in to the year, but I’ve had enough.
Not enough of the year, years are just a number. I’ve just had enough of the bullshit from people. The United nations have declared 2012 the year of Cooperatives, so wont you please be cooperative to the rest of society by not being a fucktard? Seriously, I’ve had enough of people who think the world owes them, simply because. Stop being a fucktard, pull your pants up, blow your nose, get a job and earn things in life.
I’ve had enough of your bullshit “woe is me” crap, and I don’t even know who you are, but you make my life worse by simply existing. If I do happen to know you, well not for long, cause I’ve had enough. I have my goals and priorities in life, and one of them is not being fucked over by other people, because they think I should have to pay (financially, emotionally, mentally) for them to be a fucktard as stated above.
You know, I have simple needs in life; a roof over my head, food on my table, and enough money in my pocket to get me through the week. I have wants in life, which are more long term goals, so that I can have a comfortable future, where I can relax because of the hard work I put in earlier in life. If you want it all now, and expect others to do it for you, go away, cause I’ve had enough.
Happy New Year Everyone.
He’s (not) so special
Tomorrow my eldest son turns 15. Yep, he certainly is growing up fast, and any other cliché you can think of. And oh how special he is, how lucky he is, how amazing it is he is born on December 25.
Now I can understand if you’re one of those people who believe in imaginary friends, who around 2,000 years ago got hammered in a really bad way to a bit of furniture, and planted into the ground like a hills hoist, all to show you how to pick up SBS better on your telly, might think this is an amazing thing…, but it’s not.
Here is the joy of reason, and there is nothing mystical about it. There is a 1 in 365 chance of being born on December 25, just as there is a 1 in 365 chance of being born on any other day, except February 29, for which there is a 1 in 1461 chance.
To show how even more not very special my son is, he currently shares the birthday with around 19,178,082 other people on this earth, give or take a few. If you were to really break down the data, then I think the number for December 25 may be a little bit higher, because those people I mentioned earlier try to have their kids born on December 25, in the hope it moves them up a spot or two in the great big buffet queue in the sky.
So you see all you people out there, that go all drop jaw with awe and excitement, when you hear about my first born being born on December 25, well get over it, he is nothing special…,
…but he is very special to me. I love you Adrian, and I hope your birthday is as good as it can get, when everyone else is more interested in giving to themselves, instead of enjoying your birthday. I love you, and always will, and I love having you as part of my life. Happy birthday.
Same Sex/Same Rights
I’ve got to say, I’m against Gay Marriage. There, I said it, and some people may find that shocking, and others will applaud it. But let me make one point clear.
I’m not against, two people of the same gender getting married, I’m against the term Gay Marriage. It boxes the whole debate in to one simple little box, that even the most small minded of people, can see past the pretty colour pictures of their tabloid media of choice, read those two words, and make an “informed decision”. They don’t need to know the facts, because two words have summed up the whole debate for them. Steve and Barry want to get married, well I’m to having that with my corn flakes!
But here’s the thing, those two little words don’t paint the whole picture. Even when it’s expanded out a bit more, and explained to people, they still just see those two words. Has our society become that simplistic that we can no longer look at the whole issue, and make an informed decision? Have we been reduced to thinking the only time worth having knowledge on a subject is when there’s an SMS voting line attached, where we can also win a new Sonappsung a entertainment system? I hope not.
When you look at the basic argument, this is about human rights, so that same sex attracted people, can not be treated as second class citizens, and stand as equals with anyone else. But there is also a second class to that second class. People who would make up a very minor figure, that at a guess would have many zeros after the decimal point, before they even have a number.
These people are happily married, and intend to stay that way, through sickness and in health, good times and bad, for as long as they both shall live. But the current laws say they must get divorced, office both people are to be recognised for who they are. Confused? Well read on.
As laws currently stand in Australia, when someone goes through all the required medical procedures, to correct a birth defect, they are entitled to have their birth certificate corrected to state the correct sex. After all, it’s not their fault the document was incorrect at birth, so after proving they are their correct gender, not the gender assigned to them, they have right to correct that document. Unless they are married.
You see, if two people love each other so much, that despite all the changes that happen with a gender transition, they want to stay together, and love each other for as long as they both live, they can’t do it, unless they continue to have incorrect documents for all other aspects of their life.
Now you may think this is not such a big deal. After all, they can use Miss or Mister as they see fit. But for medical records, if they for some reason are in trouble with the law, for pensions, for car insurance, for basically any aspect of their life, apart from their outward appearance, they will still be classed according to that incorrect documentation they were assigned at birth. If they want to tick the final box, they simply can’t do it, because this country does not allow same sex marriage.
It’s not only about a simple document like a birth certificate, but it is also about public perception, and discrimination. If someone has changed gender, every time they have to provide documentation, or proof of relationship, they have to out themselves as someone who has undergone a gender transition. You may not think this is a big deal, but how much of your past do you want to tell to any stranger out there, just so your basic human rights can be acknowledged? Is it fair these people are put through the anguish each and every time, or should they be forced to lie to everyone, just so other people can keep their nice little stereotype that marriage is only between a man and a woman?
So you see Gay Marriage is not about Gay marriage. It’s about each and every person in this country, having the same rights as everyone else. It’s not about forcing Barry Bloke to accept a marriage proposal from Harry Hotpants, simply because Harry has the hots for Barry and asks. It’s about everyone being given a fair go, and that’s the way we do it in Australia. We are country that is young and free, that advances fairly. Or do we think that fairness should only extend to those who aren’t affected by discrimination?
That’s a good price for 60lb of Nutmeg.
I recently signed up as a member of Costco. Yes, start all your booing and hissing now, but I would like to point out, they are very close to where I live, and actually have some products that fit into my fickle dietary requirements quite well. But regardless of that, I’m still allowed to put all four hooves up on a soapbox and moo loudly.
As anyone who is a regular watcher of the ABC will know, there is a thing called the Gruen Transfer, from which a teleision show gets it’s title. I wont go into the details here, because it’s quicker for you to click on the link, than it is for me to type a heap out about it. Damn, I better go put a link in there now…, all better.
Moving on, or at least I would like to, but the standard clientèle of Costco wont allow me, and I’m not even in the store yet. The issues start even before you get into the carpark, because people are bamboozled by the choice between “Take Ticket, Pay Later” or “Insert Credit Card now, Insert Credit Card Later”. How it can take each person three minutes to decide between these two options I will never know. It’s not like they are being asked ” Would you like us to set fire to your kids now, or after we have set fire to you?”
Then there is the shopping trolleys. With Costco being an American store, even the trolleys are supersized. It makes the standard Australian shopping trolley look like one of those hand basket with wheels that are starting to plague Big W and Kmart of late. Given the average Costco shopper has never seen a trolley this big, they suddenly think they are driving a Toorak Tractor (Yes, I’ve linked that one for you all) and therefore can drive the trolley anyway they like, park it anyway they like, and they have the right to not give a flying fox if they are in the way of anyone else. Well a big fat heads up to you tools…, ALL THE TROLLEYS ARE THE SAME SIZE!!!!!!!!!!!!! (note I didn’t do the “!!1!!111!!one!!” joke in the over use of exclamation marks, because I am a mature cow.)
I say to these people, use the same rule as I use when you are in a car; “If you can’t park it, don’t drive it”. Plain and simple, and the whole thing will work out a lot better. So when someone says “excuse me” don’t stare at them blankly, like they are about to offer you a free sample, MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!
Speaking of free samples, they are a sample people. Not a fifteen course buffet lunch! I tend to go to Costco during the middle of the day, because I work odd hours, and have no social life. Oh, and also I hate weekend crowds, because that’s just what I have described above (and will do below) amplified. But during the day, you get bus loads I’m sure of nursing home inmates, or even just the card carry member variety of senior citizen, who think they are a seagull, and Costco is the biggest hot chip in the world. Samples are meant to be something you get on the fly, not hang around clogging up the aisles waiting for the next batch of offerings. Not everyone wants to try out “Johnny Cock Block’s Secret Caribbean Sauce, fresh from the seas of South Dakota”.
My last gripe is at the check out. People, you have just spent 15 hours going around the store, filling your belly with Cock sauce, blocking up the aisles with your inabilities, and trying to decide if you want to park your car or stare at the flashing lights. Now is not the time to decide you would like to buy the “Turn your little brat into an NBA basketball superstar starter kit for $799″, and decide to go get it. Once you have got to the check out, you have effectively left the store in my book. Even if it’s the cheap chokito’s or latest tabloid wankfest about new Princess Di weight loss claims from beyond the grave, TOO BAD! Get your stuff, and get out of the way of everyone else. You’ve had your go, so get going.
My final word about Costco is about their chopped onions. Seriously, these things are good, and you get them by turning a little wheel. It’s an endless supply of joy for the world. But there are only so many you can fit on your hot dog. So my suggestion is simple. Get the hot dog and soft drink deal they have, but instead of using the cup for soft drink, fill it with onions. Seriously, you may be thirsty, but you’re going to have enough onions to get you though the day.
That’s always a good thing, because it’s going to take you all day just to get out of the car park.
I want a new bike Santa
Below is an article I’ve written for Huff. Sure this saves you going out and buying it, if you were only going to read this article, but there is a lot more in Huff for the average cyclist than just what I have to say.
Christmas is fast approaching, and that means one thing. No, not that, or that, and definitely not that! No, it means lots of kids the world over will wake up on December 25, and see a shiny new bicycle under the tree from Santa.
Now of course the world would be a better place if Santa (and all his helpers) built more recumbents, but that’s another issue. Instead, what I’d like you all to do, is take a moment to think about what all these new bikes mean. Yes, new bikes, mean new bike riders, filled with all the excitement and joy owning a new bike offers.
But just think for a moment about everything else that happens on Christmas day. Now I’m not getting on my moral high horse here and judging anyone, but if the average Christmas day out there is anything like those I grew up with, it’s a lot of alcohol, a lot of food, a lot of fights, and a lot of endless talking about anything and everything. The adults basically let the kids fill up on red cordial, lollies and an oversupply of new stuff. The adults are too busy to concentrate on the kids, and after all, with all the new stuff, the kids can look after themselves. Mmmm, shiny new bike.
Can you see where I am going here?
The average first time rider really has no idea of how to ride a bike. When that first time rider is a young kid filled with excitement, the last thing on their mind is road laws, other traffic, or least of all where the brakes are. After all, once you get going (sometimes with the help of training wheels) why would you want to stop? Add in the peer pressure of other kids on their bikes, and you just want to ride and ride and ride and…….. OH NO, CAR!!!!!!!
I’m not about to lecture you in how you spend your Christmas day, or the way you raise your kids. But as a member of the cycling community, all I ask is you think about two things this Christmas.
- If you are driving somewhere, slow down just that little bit. Sure you might get to where you are going three minutes later, but it’s not like you are in a rush to go boil an egg somewhere. Be mindful that any child you see on a bike, might be riding for the very first time, or they are so proud of their new bike, that’s all they are thinking about. Work on a theory that they have no idea you are there, so be just that little more careful when you drive.
- If you are the parent of a child, who gets a new bike for Christmas. Don’t just give them the bike and then get on with things. Take a bit of time to teach them the basics of riding, and about traffic. Sure it may take an hour out of your Christmas day, but it’s better than waiting for them in a hospital, or worse.
Sure there is only so much you can do, and at the end of the day, you can only do so much. I’m not asking anyone to go out of their way to be “Super Cyclist”, keeping the streets safe of scraped knees. All I’m asking is you don’t make it a Christmas you’ll never forget.
Should I be an iSheeple?
I’ve been the owner of an iPad for a few months now, but every time I use it in public, there is a problem. People go all glassy eyed, look at me with a Children Of The Corn stare and ask “Ohh, should I get one of those, is it good?”
It’s like some kind of first world Cargo Cult has formed around the iPad. People who see one think they need to get one, simply for the sake of having one, because it must be good if other people have one. Naturally because I have one, I must therefore be an expert on the device, and some kind of advanced being. This power, and though the joy that is unicorn rainbow farts, I can let them know if the iPad is right for them or not.
Yesterday I was asked by someone if they should get an iPad for their two year old daughter. They were taken aback when I asked the very simple, one word, typical two year old question of “Why?” They were stumped as to why I would ask that, in the typical fashion of what I described above. So I put it to them more simply; “Let me ask you this. What would your two year old do if you just gave them $6,00 to $1,000 in cash? Is that an investment you see as worthwhile?”
Their reply I found a little strange. “Oh she likes playing with my iPhone, so I figure an iPad would stop her from playing with that.”
After more discussion, I managed to talk him down to a second hand iPod Touch, and then to just making one out of duplo, be cause let’s face it, a two year old, will play with anything it can get it’s hands on. An iPad is not going to turn your kid into iStein.
Yeah, ok, I thought of the iStein joke on the fly. It’s bad, and yes, it should have been Einstein, but hey, sometimes you just have to go with it and see.
Getting back to the subject at hand, I didn’t just jump out and buy an iPad because it was the latest and greatest thing on the market, or because I ever wanted to think that by sleeping with it, it would be like sleeping with Steve Jobs. [Edit: Delete this joke, the iStein one didn't work, I'm not going to go with the Steve Jobs one. Email me if your really want to know it] I bought one when I could justify the need to have one. My laptop was getting a bit too old to cart around everywhere, and the weight of it was just too much. My iPhone was a bit too small to do some of the work I needed to do. The cost of buying an iPad, outweighed the cost of not having one. Since buying it, and getting over the shiny/new phase, I’ve found I have a lot more use for it, as it gives me the chance to write stuff on the fly, with out having to wait for the laptop to fire up. It’s a thing of convenience for me, that has made things easier for me, given I don’t live 9-5 hours, I’m rarely home, and don’t have an office to bludge in each day.
At the end of the day, if you want to buy an iPad, go for it, but don’t blame me if it’s not right for you. Just because I have one, it doesn’t make me an expert on your needs, or the device. You can ask a salesperson and they will tell you you need one. You can ask your kids, and they will tell you they want one. You can ask an Apple Lover and they will wonder why you don’t have one yet. But the only person you should be asking is yourself, cause I’m sick of hearing your question.
I Hope You Had The Time Of Your [Copyright Infringement]
Yesterday marked eight years since my marriage ended. After coming home from a long day at work, I was confronted with an empty house, apart from the fridge, the washing machine, and the large pile of clothes on the laundry floor, very few of which were mine.
So I did the only rational thing I could do, I washed the clothes, dried the clothes, folded the clothes, and basically spent the night wondering where to next. After all, this was all a bit of a shock, mind you in hindsight, I should have known something was wrong. Two days previously, my birthday was ignored in every way possible, not that I celebrate them at all, but that’s another story.
The next day, I headed off to work, and when I returned home that night, the fridge, washing machine, and all the clothes were also gone. Mmmm, this was starting to get serious.
To cut a long story short, the marriage was over, and never since then has it looked like getting to a point of amicable discussion. In fact, the ex has only spoken to me on three occasions since then, if you can call being sworn at speaking.
While I am happy the marriage is over, it still bites every year, because it also marks the point where lots of changes started to happen in my life. I try to keep things low key, but I still get stressed out by it all, because I am reminded of those times. No amount of trying to avoid it, or put myself in a happy place, something always crops up.
It also remains this way until after Christmas. I’m constantly doing that fine balancing trick, between worthwhile member of society, and someone talking to be though a megaphone, telling me to put the gun down, come down off the building, and let’s let you have a nice rest in a nice place with padded walls.
You see, I’ve been alone now for many years, with no family contact. It’s not because they have died or anything nice like that, we just don’t have anything to do with each other, their choice. But from mid October, all the stores look to flog off as much Christmas crap as possible, for maximum profit to spread good will to you, and your family. That’s the bit that gets to me. The constant reference to spending time with your family, be happy with your family, show your family how much you love them. It’s all bullshit. If you really cared, you would do all of this all year round. To compound the problem for me, my eldest child was born on December 25, so it’s a fairly emotional time of year anyway.
So why am I sharing all this with you all? Well to be honest, I really don’t know, I just wanted to get it off my chest. I guess it also serves as a product warning, that if I do something you find really shitty in the next few months, or if you think I’m being a really nasty bitch, you now know why.
Thankfully this year though, I have someone special in my life, someone to share it with. I just hope I don’t stress them out too much, with my “Which Personality Is It This Hour” thing. I really am trying, really I am, it’s just a bit to much pressure at times.
Service with a smile, and very little else
Time to get on my soap box a bit, or rather a fruit box, because I’m a bit pissed off.
What is it with fucktards in the food industry at the moment? Do they just not bother any more with actually doing their job?
Now I know people are going to call me a picky bitch, but really, if I order something on your menu, it’s because I want that, not just whatever you want to serve up to me, because you don’t give a fuck. If I bought a white car, and they dragged out a little blue pill, I’d be just as pissed off as I am now. This is simply about standards, and how they are not being met.
Over the last week, I’ve had the following happen, in no set order. Now I will take some blame for the first one, as I didn’t know my phone was on silent, as I must have knocked the button when I put it down.
1. Ordered a pizza, then the store called back to confirm the order, because they thought I was a new customer, all because I decided to pay cash, not card. I missed that because my phone was on silent, so the cancelled the order, and blocked me from ordering again, because my number was a crank number. This is despite calling them back two minutes after they had called me, clearly stating that I had ordered the pizza in the first place, and I did still want it.
2. Eating in and ordered my meal, had the meal repeated back to me. When it arrived, it was a different meal. I questioned it and they showed me the order, where they had written down the wrong thing. This is despite having repeated the order back to me in the first place. How the fuck is this possible?
3. Decided take away was the order of the day, had the order repeated back to me again, all good. The order comes out, but they forgot one of the dishes, despite making up half of the dish (the garnish). By the time this was discovered, we had already gotten home, and the place had closed for the night.
4. Ordered a chicken focaccia, but instead was given a beef roll. When I questioned this, I was told it was a chicken focaccia, by the person who made it. I pointed out that it was beef, and in a roll’ and they had no idea what the problem was, then tried to refuse me a refund, because I had changed my order. I never fucking well changed my order, you fucked up.
Now it’s pretty obvious I don’t talk with a silver spoon in my mouth, but when it comes to ordering food, I make sure it’s clearly known what it is I want, so I know I’m not the one who stuffs this stuff up. Why is it so bloody hard just to get a simple bit of food right? For fuck’s sake, it’s not rocket lettuce science!
North Of The Border
So I’m in Sydney for a few days. It’s a little strange being here, and I kind of thought things might work out this way, and it did. About 200km out of the greater metropolitan area, I was reminded of the last time I was in Sydney, just after Paige had taken her own life.
In the months leading up to that event, I had been in Sydney a few times, either rushing up because she was in Hospital, or I was delivering her car up to Sydney, or just because we were spending time together as friends.
But that last trip up was a very emotional time. I wont go into details, because I don’t want to drag up the past. All I will say is, in hindsight, the trip was a total waste of time, but in a way I’m glad I made it, because it did give me some amount of closure.
This time though, heading up the road, I was going for happy reasons, to a place I didn’t see the need in ever visiting again, so I kept going on. Sure, it’s a really emotional time being here, for example, I see the harbor and remember the last time I was out there, but I am glad to be here.
Sydney is a place I will never call home. The way this place runs doesn’t suit the cut of my jib, or my tastes in decency. No amount of money could have me live here (Well maybe if the deal included a cute puppy I might think about it), but I’m not going to rule out ever coming here again, as I sort of had done.
At the end of the day, I have a pain in my heart being here, but why should I begrudge an entire city for that? It just shows the love and respect I have for Paige, and that her memory will always live on for me.
The (SECOND) Unexpected Variety Hour – Review
So I headed off to see The Unexpected Variety Hour show again, and if you were to look at recent blog posts, you may think that’s all I’ve been doing. Seriously though, I am working on other blog posts, and my fingers are sore from all the typing, to do with non blog post related things. I’ll get them posted soon, some things take time you know.
It’s said that the way to measure to quality and worth of a performer, is to see how much they put into each show. I don’t know if that’s an exact quote, and at this late hour I really can’t be bothered using a search engine to find the right thing. Needless to say, the mark of a great performer is someone who puts just as much energy into show 100 as they did for show 1. Tonight, I got to see the mark of a truly great performer, and her name is Jenny Wynter.
The first time I saw this show, I was moved to tears, felt a shiver down my spine, and wanted to stop the show and give Jen a hug. This time, I knew the run of the show, so there was no way she was going to stump me again, but she did. Once again I was captivated by her performance. I was taken on a journey into the world of Jenny, a place where you hang on every moment, and rejoice in it leading to another. I have to say, and it is no lie, I enjoyed this performance just as much as the first time I saw the show, and the credit for that can only go to Jenny. She has created a wonder and moving piece of art, that you simply can’t not enjoy. Yes, that may be a double negative, but two wrongs do make a right in this case, and The Unexpected Variety Hour is right on the money.
There isn’t long to go until the show has to wrap up it’s Melbourne season, so get in quick and have a great night of entertainment, that will have you smiling long after the show has ended.
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