Saturday, April 28, 2007

Hair, hair everywhere
Some have little some have lots
Blue hair, Pink Hair, Polka dots

But there is going to be hell toupee….

Entailed within the following post is the history of a hair-do I like to call The Helmet, a hair-do which grows so rapidly if left unchecked could threaten civilisation as we know it. Yes dear, adoring, blogging public I speak of the messy mop which currently adorns my cranium.

Naturally gifted, the hair started its life head and shoulders above its other appendage rivals, high and mighty it lorded over all it surveyed. And became twisted in the power it beheld, it grew and grew. Bringing with it ridicule for it's wearer, affectionately known as Stack-hat through his high school years, then later known as Grug, named for the hairy little echidna that he was. *

Unlike most hair, the do was not content to grow in length, "any hair could do that" thought the hair, so it made a solemn pledge to never grow to a useful length, but too always become thick and unmanageable to even the strongest of gels and sprays, to boldly grow where no hair has grown before, to never have a consistent colour bleaching in non specific patches giving a genetically altered mouse look. A style years ahead of its time.

The council of Hair dressers, telephone sanitisers, and other miscellaneous middle men convened.

Not Britney Spears------>

"The Hair must be stopped, no matter the cost. We will shave them on the seas and oceans, we shall shave with growing confidence and growing strength in the hair, we shall never surrender no matter what the cost may be." – Wilkinson Swordshill. ***

The offensive lasted all day, the floors covered with hair, the enemy decimated, and receding to the safety of its home land… It had tried many times to escape unnoticed, hiding under, blue, red and Green camouflage, every time it was detected and kept in line with the scissors of peace. It lay, plotting and scheming and awaiting for the chance to rise again.

Today is that day ladies and gentlemen; the hair we have feared is back, thicker and darker than ever. Spreading keratin fuelled mayhem across the blogosphere. But what to do abut it, the old alliances have fallen into disrepair, the telephone sanitisers don’t speak to the hair dressers, (mostly from fear of dirty phones), and no one likes middle men.

I guess this is my way of saying (quite long windedly) that I need a hair cut or a change… Any Ideas?

*side note Dad still to this day calls me Grug.**

** I had a friend with the nick name frosty, due to the snowy peaks of dandruff that occurred on his head, dad still calls him frosty to this day.

*** side note 2: most of Winston Churchill's speeches were written by A A Milne, as in the Author of Winnie the Pooh. "We will fight them on the seas and oceans, Eeyore and Tigger will bring cake for Christopher Robin"
This is Grug, for all those who dont know.

Friday, April 20, 2007

First and foremost I am really ok…

But I had a brush with death yesterday.. The broomstick of my demise, nearly swept me in to the pan of limbo, into the rubbish bin of eternity amongst the forgotten dust monkeys of history.

Riding my bike along a major road near my home, in the left hand lane (where we drive in Aus) a little bit of speed up, then all of a sudden a car veers from the outside lane, around a car, and into my lane. With an almighty Crack, he clips the side of my bike, which rips the handle bars around, he goes flying past it take all of my strength t right my self before eating concrete, and he keeps driving… I am pretty sure I got his side mirror against my handle bars, I pull off the road.. As the jolt had dislodged the chain, and knocked the bike out of gear… The bike (most importantly) and I are in working condition no lasting damage.

When I got home I started thinking, shouldn’t I have seen life flash before my eyes? Or better yet someone else's, as I've already seen mine. Shouldn’t I be worried about death or trying to change the way I live? The truth is I came home, had a shower, put some more music on my iPod, then did the dishes. No change, no stress, no bad thoughts, a little angry at the PRICK! (sorry) who didn’t stop but that’s it…

I cant remember a time where I have been afraid of death, I have done a thousand stupid things, some of which probably by rights should have landed me in the obituary pages under G… for Gee I am glad that one's gone.

As I have mentioned before I have seen a lot of death in my life, I grew up on a bowling green, my father was a greens keeper, most of my friends as a young man 2-10 where over 80… I thought nothing of having a friend or two die a month that was just the way life was.. People passed on, but they were remembered, for the moments in life that set them apart, a stupid comment, or something ridiculous that happened to them, that could only have happened to them, or perhaps an act of great kindness.

My philosophy is to live your life to the best of your ability, enjoy it, as it is all that there is or will be, enjoy the time you have the connections you make… If you die have no regrets, and give 'em a lot of embarrassing stories to tell at the funeral…

IS it weird to not fear the reaper?

Embarrassing confession

I have actually been "run over" twice in life… the most recent being in London. After 2 and a bit months on the European continent and silly people driving on the wrong side of the road, you get used to looking to the left then the right.. So on return to England, our first crossing, clear left stepped out… Bang, straight into my legs, resulting in some very nasty bruising, a limp for 2 weeks and a frantic (then) fiancé.. A hot chocolate later and she was fine. I how ever didn’t break a sweat..

The first time however I managed to run over my self, upper middle class twit of the year style, riding full pelt on a four wheel motor bike, my leg slipped under, ripped me off and under the bike, and over my legs it went leaving two massive red wheel marks on my legs…. Quite an achievement if I do say so my self.


Wednesday, April 18, 2007

I want to show you something

Come with me…. Come with me into a beautiful world, a world without pain, without death, without loss or grief… Even just for a moment forget the horrors of the world and focus on life… Somewhere we lost sight of what it is all about, somewhere along the line we became afraid, instead of enjoying or lives and each other. I want to show you how perfect life can be, what it means to love and show the true beauty of life…

This is Sunday in the perfect world with my beautiful wife in my small but happy apartment, before we saw the horrors life could produce.

Some of the most fantastic moments of my relationship with Stace have been spent in the kitchen, either cooking something to surprise her, or cooking with her, to create a cornucopia of gastronomic splendour; enjoying good food, good wine or ginger beer, and most importantly each other.

Afternoon tea on a lazy weekend, after a morning of hugging, kissing, touching and saying the three words that can hold the world still; we set out to produce an afternoon tea fit for the gods.

2 cups self raising flour
Half a cup white sugar
A mountain of chocolate chips
2 eggs
vanilla essence ( a splash)
Half a cup to a cup of milk.
2 tablespoons of butter (that Stace forgot)

Pre heat the oven to 180 degrees…. Discuss the possible confusion of rotating the over 180 degrees, and the physics of coking on an angle.

Sift flour and sugar together, or get your wife to, while you make a fool out of yourself, singing a modified version of Shinaid O'Connors Nothing compares to you, entitled "muffin compares to you." In a separate bowl let Stace beat milk and eggs together. Add chocolate chips to flour sugar mix….nick a choc chip when wife isn’t looking. Smile with chocolate in your teeth, as innocently as possible.

Combine both bowls and mix thoroughly, this is best achieved when holding your wife from behind as tightly as possible, once mixed spoon into muffin trays, and give the bowl to your husband to lick… Best not to trust him anywhere near chocolate until you are sure you have enough.

Bake for 20 mins. Test with knife, serve with coffee/tea or poison of choice.

After enjoying muffins with lashings of butter and several coffees, and a lengthy stroll to work the fat off dinner is to be decided on… Pizza for preference…

The job of Base making always falls to the husband, as he hold the secret family recipe of the best dough:) containing


2 cups of flour
2 teaspoons of white sugar
Half a cup of water
Olive oil
And Oregano (1 teaspoon and a bit)

Preheat oven to 220 degrees

Work up the yeast i.e. put it in a plastic tub, with warm water and sugar, leave covered for 10 minutes, until it becomes brown and frothy…

In a separate bowl add flour, salt, oregano and a splash of olive oil….. mixed worked up yeast mixture in, working it through…. On a floured chopping board kneed the dough until smooth… make a stupid joke… example… "Why did the boy become a baker? Because he kneaded the dough (needed the dough (money)). Smile as a barrage of groans at bad humour fly at you… Leave dough to proof for 10 mins

Chop topping of choice, ham, salami, mushrooms, capsicums, pineapple.

Have a short interlude to explain the 1/R(square) law in terms of a digital flash, then in terms of hearing damage in an iPod.

Create a new invention called the iPatch, watch your wife's beautiful face crack into a smile, and see all the love in the world in her eyes just for you… Think that you are possibly the luckiest man who ever lived.

Get back to the pizza; flatten out the dough into a base, put on greased oven tray bake for 10 mins…. Once baked, cover with pizza tomato sauce, all the ingredients, and then bury in pizza Cheese… bake for an additional 15-20 mins…

Serve in a candle lit room, with home made ginger beer, and Jeff Buckley playing in the background… But most importantly enjoy home made pizza in good company, many laughs, smiles, hugs and kisses.

Thank you for coming along on a short journey into our world, it is easy to loose sight of life in a world surrounded by death, disease, famine and war. Always remember that there are some things truly worth fighting and dying for in life, there are still many beautiful people who enrich our lives… don’t loose sight of that in these darker times.


For Keshi: Listening to The Manic Street Preachers- If you Tolerate This Then Your Children Will Be Next.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

All this talk of love and physical activity (not related or with anyone who is related) is probably giving the blog world the wrong impression of my true nature. Sure I ride ridiculous distances, love heavy metals concerts but it's what's inside that counts… And inside me is a man in a cardigan and a bow tie screaming to get out.. This all comes back to a joke I saw in New Scientist ( I swear I only read it for the articles), where a instead of the standard "Wash me" or "If Only my wife was this dirty" written in grime on a white car, some jaded chemist has written "couldn't afford the Titanium Dioxide"…

Amongst much snorting and spilling of ear medication, I had to explain exactly why this was funny… TiO2 is used in many medical instruments, Food preparation surfaces, and air conditioning filters as it is essentially self cleaning. Gunk does not stick to TiO2 in the presence of UV radiation…

It is good to see a university education at work…

Which brings me onto the geekiest bumper sticker I have encountered, in my many years wearing the coke bottle glasses badge of honour… it is best seen to be believed.

/* warning maths and physics ahead*/

First reason this is funny…. It shows an understanding of the Doppler Effect, common example an ambulance siren changes in frequency as it is coming toward and when it is going away from you, the motion of the sound emitter will change the recorded frequency… Emitter moving in the direction of the wave front, the waves contract, and away from the wave from they lengthen… Changing the observed frequency.. see below.

The formula being

Formula.... Velocity of object= (change in Wavelength/initial wavelength)* speed of light (c)

Wavelength of Red Light 700 Nm blue light 400nm

(700*10^-9-400*10^-9/700)C= Velocity of the emitor (or vehicle heading toward)

.42C = Velcoity

.42 of the speed of light.... or .42*1,079,252,848.8 km/h

462536935.2 Km/h
Obviously not driving my Barina. More a combination wheelbarrow and ride of mower than an actual car..

On a side note...just to mess with your head...

Quantum physics at a very basic level… That you cannot go faster than the speed of light Einstein jumps out with a stop sign and says No… This is due to Lorenz contraction. The faster you go the thinner you become (observed from external) as it becomes thinner, density increases, until object --> approaches -->0 in length and density --> Infinity… Therefore an infinite amount of energy would be required to reach the speed of light (in its most basic terms)

See Told you i was a geek


Thursday, April 05, 2007

Memory is an amazing thing, three days ago I sat down to write a long and detailed post about a man I owe so much too, a man who brought me into the world, fed me, clothed me, loved and supported me through out my life, my father..

So I sat down to write; nothing…. I racked my brains, surely I know this man, my father, a hero an inspiration, a voice for social justice and community spirit, but the words failed me… I couldn’t place his face in my mind, so I spouted out weird posts about spell check, made light about riding in the rain, when all the while I wanted to tell the world about the life I have shared and continue to share with dad.

So idly wandering today through the throngs in the local shopping hub, I came across the Easter display and all the amazing memories came flooding back.. The swimming lessons, the bon fires, my first beer (4 ended up giggling for several hours), 30 km bush walks through the Grampians and Halls Gap. It all came down to thinking of a context….

I speak of course of our family tradition of the bourbon bunny, yes the bourbon bunny who stumbles out of the warren once a year to supply bourbon to good boys and girls… Maybe I should back the story up a little…

It was a difficult period in my life, my mother and father were separated, due to certain complications which are omitted here, but it left my father and I to fend for ourselves, over this six months we became very close we talked about everything and built an incredible relationship… However during this time we had to celebrate Easter so my father comes in smiling and hands over a bottle of bourbon, and says "you’re a young man now, I have seen you grow into a man over the last few years and it time to give manly gifts" so sincere and proud of a young man in front of him, I never had the heart to tell him Easter presents are given on the Saturday not the Friday… It made that moment mean so much more, because he got his days mixed up and he thought it was Saturday…

Since then we have walked the overland, 65 km from Lake Sinclair to cradle mountain… on foot. WE have hiked the Bogong High plans, fished all the rivers in Victoria (with and With out rods), been involved in search and rescue, working together to save lives through first aid or rescue, and of course our little bike ride just to name a few..

So tonight, a day before the accidental day before I sit with a bottle of bourbon (vile), and write, about an inspiration, a hero, a best friend, and of course a father…

Thanks for everything dad, I am proud to be your son…


P.S: Next year I'm giving you half a days head start, maybe you will keep up:)


Sunday, April 01, 2007

Deer Mr Gates,
Eye wood like two bring too you’re attention the fundamental floor inn you’re Microsoft Word Spell Cheque product… The mane concern is that of it’s inability to two recognize homonyms inn hour daily speech. This particular problem became evident inn my recent sexual discrimination case with the local church.. Instead of typing Hymns spell cheque had failed to pick up Hims, causing much embarrassment to the female parishioners… As ewe may appreciate, the religious community is an open minded and fare group, and this has reflected badly on the parish and its ministry.
Please can ewe pier into this particular issue and make necessary alterations to Anne otherwise sensational product…

Sincerely Aidan