Hello World!

I have been inspired this day to start my blog by a young chick from Florida. Incidentally, it is considered an offense to shower naked in Florida. This blogging seems a little daunting however I’m sure I’ll cope by reminding myself that I’m not scribbling for any intended audience but a handful of friends who will neither be offended by my rants, nor judgmental of my opinions. If you stumbled here by accident or were drawn in by the powers of search engines, I hope you stay and feel somewhat amused or mildly interested by my string of words. My short term goal is to acquire at least three unique visitors even if they are apes, particularly the ones that will eventually conquer and rule this planet. Looking forward to those toothy grin expressions. And by way of future reference, the above map will give you all a heads up on the directions to the Forbidden Zone. Good luck friends and strangers.

Wed, 18th April – 444

OK, this rant is going to be a weird one bordering on the ‘looney tunes’ and venturing into the ‘what the’ … For the past 6 months or so I’ve been seeing the numbers 444 quite often and ordinarily I wouldn’t have blinked an eye lid, nor even shrug my shoulders as I would with the cocky confidence of someone who hadn’t broken one of their shoulders in a rugby game 3 years ago. Actually, lets not go there since Brad always reminds me that my come back ended after only 20 mins of play into the season. The words ‘pussy’ and ‘cry baby’ often accompany his taunts, just wait till he turns ‘almost’ 50. You wouldn’t believe the number of times I would wake up at 4:44am, or check the time in the afternoon and it’s 4:44pm. I count the occassions only where I would unconsciously or randomly check the clock. Another time, Brad and I went on a shopping spree buying clothes and the bill came to $444. Another time, Lisa flicked her mobile on while I was filling the car with gas and it was 4:44pm. I returned after paying for the gas, switched the car on and the clock read 4:44pm (this clock was about 4 mins slower than Lisa’s mobile). A delivery box arrived at the door one time, and I noticed the freecall number had 444 in it. When I was on holidays last Christmas, a buggie drove past with the number plate ’44’ and then immediately after that another vehicle drove past, a utility van with the number plate ‘4’. Today, one of my bank balances had the numbers 444 in the total. There are ton’s of examples, so I’m dumbfounded wondering whether this is all a sign, a message or some revelation. What are the chances? Or am I focusing so much on these numbers that I notice them more now? Due to the high frequency of visions, I’m now discounting the waking up at 4:44am because surely that has be a body clock thing, right? I had to turn to the all knowing Google and you wouldn’t believe the number of people who experience the same thing, so I’m not alone in this phenomenom. Go ahead, Google it. Essentially most of the articles in Google refer to the thousands of angels that surround me at the time I experience the 444. I’m praying that the angels are offering their protection as opposed to them waiting for me to catch the ‘deep sleep bus’. The Chinese consider the number 4 to be auspicious, so maybe I’m seeing ‘die die die’ flashing before me, but then again among all the other Chinese superstitions they also believe that wearing a moustache is considered bad luck and beating a person with a broom will bring bad luck for many years. No wonder the vacuum industry does so well in China.

Handle me with Care and Caution

Just a couple of tips on how to interact with someone like me. I do feel obliged to spell this out so people can stop freaking me out. I’m not trying to be cavalier about this, nor do I wish to offend, but I am working on an alternative secret Colonel Sanders recipe to get myself out of this bind. Unfortunately, this plan is very fragile and can all come to nought at the slightest suggestion of failure or negativity, even when naively offered. 1. I have cancer, not the common cold. Please stop telling me it’s going to be alright unless you know the definitive cure for Cancer. The doctors tell me that the disease reacts differently for everyone. I could be a nifty bag of garden fertiliser within 12 months, or I could be writing a book about how I beat this, fathered 10 more children, won the lottery and how I now appreciate cigars and pedicures. 2. True, I won’t have further use for my wardrobe and that this space will be available sometime in the future, but you will have to search and bid for this piece of real estate on eBay like everyone else. 3. Be prepared for a paternity test, if you’re hoping to turn up for a cut of the Insurance handout. You should know that Brad is not the sharing kind and is currently learning Brazilian Ju Jitsu, and I think he knows how to dish out guillotine choker holds now. 4. Any funeral directors touting for business will need to have a qualified dog handler with them. My dog ‘Dawgie’ has a bite worse than his bark. I am however interested in genuine, no corners cut, Viking Burning Ship Burials’ at Sea, quotes. 5. I AM trying to be positive, and it’s bloody hard when everyone keeps reminding me to remain positive. What I really need is an introductory course in Shaolin Monkism Meditation 101 (in 5 easy steps). If anyone knows where I can pick up the tapes for this, please let me know. I can pick up or arrange delivery at my expense. If it’s a book, make sure it has lots of pictures, preferably cartoons … my attention span is almost non-existent and I’m easily entertained. If the CD has music, ideally monkeys should be able to dance to it. 6. If you really want to cheer me up, I enjoy Chicken Laksa, Mud Crab, Crayfish, Pineapple Lumps, Tamarillos and Coffee from Bonjour Patisserie (Wahroonga). 7. If you think you’re beautiful then a hug would be warmly and immensely appreciated. Groping encouraged but not advised. Talk to you all again, laters alligators!

Mon, 23rd April – The Gall of it

Now that has to be a stroke of bad luck. I’m in hospital once more after a severe bout of abdominal / chest pains very early this morning. After chugging down 3 cups of some green liquid and being injected with a solution that felt hot as it travelled through my veins, the verdict was cholecystitis (thank gawd for this blogs auto speller). For the uninitiated, this medical term means … ‘type up an invoice for $5,000 please nurse’. In T minus 2.5 hours, I’ll be laying on the carving table poised to have another organ removed and the anesthetic juice should be fresh at this time of the week. I’m now considering an investment for a time share at this hospital because of my frequent visits. I am so hungry, last meal was dinner about 22 hours ago. When Brad came and sat by my side for a little part of the day, we received a comment from a doctor, a wardsman and a nurse asking if we were brothers. Either I look very young or Brad looks “really” old, has to be the latter. This is obviously a sensitive topic for Brad, which I’m prepared to capitalise on at every opportunity I get … Snaaaapp! Wish I had sold my gall bladder to some sod before it became useless. Anyone interested in a kidney? Go and bid on it like everyone else on eBay!

Friends

So cool to have friends, problem is I don’t have many. I’ve invested so much time over the years working and dutifully returning home each and every day. My line of work is not physically taxing, but it can be stressful and so I learnt early in the piece that a beer in the hand is worth two in the fridge … like Homer Simpson, ‘cept I have more hair. Friends, like really good one’s, are like receivers. You transmit information and they process it. Problem is, I’ve noticed is that, some people take advantage of this and use it to spin their yarn with full poetic license, and the ‘friend’ fulfils their obligation to believe everything told to them. There’s two sides to almost every story and, it takes two to tango. Tango by the way is not as cool as Samba or the Salsa. Incidentally, it takes two to Samba or Salsa as well but the negative connotation only applies to Tango. My children are my bestest friends, however I don’t weave any tall stories with them, unless it’s about the fish I caught, that was this ‘bbbbbbbbiggggggg’ or the fierce dragon I wrestled to submission. Oh well, got to get up soon for work, ground hog day.