The Pool God Speakth

Have you donated to Wikipedia recently? I have! :)

2011-11-16T22:00:00.000+11:00

I have RETURNED!

2011-11-02T23:08:00.002+11:00

To Melbourne! The plan ahead immediately is to find some p/t work, preferably sciencey but I'm easy. Then, next year the grad dip ed at Monash! Then, teaching whilst the JD! Then, lawyer. Then politician. Then PM. Easy!

PG Out.

Empty Chairs at the MCG

2011-10-04T00:40:00.003+11:00

There's a grief that can't be spoken/There's a pain goes on and on/Empty chairs at the MCG/Now the Grand Final has been and gone.

Here they talked of back to back/Here it was they lit the flame/Here they sang about premiership glory/But that glory never came.

Oh my Mick my Mick please forgive us/That it all went so wrong/There's a grief that can't be spoken/There's a pain goes on and on.

Oh my friends, my friends don't ask me/What your sacrifice was for/Empty chairs at the MCG/Where the Pies will sing, no more.

GEEEEEEEEEEEELOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG!!!!!!

I Called It! And Other Things.

2011-09-15T23:23:00.003+10:00

I told ya Ross Lyon wouldn't get another contract at St. Kilda after the 2009 premiership loss and the way he conducted himself after. I was right. Maw ha ha ha! Yes he jumped, with a parachute, before he could be pushed it seems, but right is right.

In other news: Go Cats! West Coast should be too strong for the Blues but Hawks injuries are leaving them vulnerable against a Swans side that is injury-free. AND Hawks are taking injured players into the match so it might be straight sets for them. We'll see.

In other, other news: Graaaaahhh! I know I said in a previous post that my hunt for a decent job would take time but getting a bit impatient. Today wasn't a bad day though on job ads front, applied for 7 jobs today with another to go, that requires a response to selection criteria so takes a little longer. That's more jobs I applied for today than the past fortnight I reckon. Oh well at least finals are here to keep me occupied! Go Cats!

PG Out.

Happy Father's Day!

2011-09-04T23:22:00.002+10:00

Happy Father's Day Old Man! Hopefully my Father's Day present makes up for flogging you in the darts (again) today. Hope you had a good one!

PG Out.

The Further Travels of the PG

2011-08-26T23:47:00.006+10:00

So the topic today is current affairs. Firstly, can anyone answer the question:

Ha ha ha, for the short sighted that says, "Where in the World is Muammmmmmmmar Gaddaffi?" It's a PG parody of the successful DOS game, "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiago?" For my part I think the bastard's been long gone, his mercenaries seem to have vacated the country some time ago and I reckon he went with them, no hiding out in Pakistan or a hole in the desert for this man! If I could find an agency, betting that is, not intelligence, that would take a bet on it, I would lay one down!

Soon the same question will be asked of the PG with the trekking I have done and will do. Drove up to Adelaide for a job interview yest, QC Analyst position, mostly data analysis rather than instrument work so goodo but pay a little low, told em its a fixed 28% of the company's revenue or bust! He he he. NEXT week off to Melb which means better ring Big Brother Billbo Keenan to let him know Uncle PG is coming to visit. Might hang round to watch Cats flog Pies in the Rd 24 dead rubber. Look out my Melbourne-dwelling, Pie supporting, Sister in Law!

So it seems like things are going (relatively) according to plan though still gotta land a job.....then....KEEP the job, but as it will be a hand-picked PG tailored position not some swing-at-the-first-pitch monkey work, working with monkeys and getting paid peanuts I think prospect of prolonged improved performance is......peachy! We'll see, like I said gotta land the job first and unwise to count one's eggs before they're in the pudding!

Anyway dog tired, Phongy's snoring kept me up all last night.....and I crashed in a different room! Ha ha ha nah but went to bed late, got up early, and have racked up 830kms in two days so time for this Pool God to hit the hay!

PG Out.

Me-hi-cana!

2011-08-16T00:23:00.003+10:00

I mentioned earlier that many masterchef creations are cooked up in the kitchen at Tarps and tonight was no exception. With Captain PG at the helm of HMAS Yummy a marvellous mexican mince was manufactured to give Ma a well-deserved break and also ensure the meal was on time for Pa who had Monday night darts! Of course one can't have mexican without cerveza so a trip down town was made to procure said beer plus some other essentials for the feast such as re-fried beans and guacamole. The trip proved even more fruitful than expected with my six-pack of Sol Cerveza coming with a free stubby holder! But my advice to you, dear reader, is this: if you are drinking a Cerveza with obligatory lemon wedge, put the wedge in BEFORE the stubby goes in the stubby holder! Otherwise sticky stubby holder for you! Ha ha ha fortunately I was able to catch the juices with a sponge before they hit the holder for the first stubby! Obviously for every subsequent stubby I added lemon as according to the procedure aforementioned. Well just a little tip, and some bragging about food to reassure you, dear reader, that the PG hasn't lost his cooking mojo, despite pureeing lunch the other day! Now, to bed!

PG Out.

Food, Glorius Food!

2011-08-07T00:37:00.013+10:00

Good food is much loved here at the home of the PG, even Banjo can appreciate a tasty sandwich and will hold a silent vigil, complete with a fixed kelpie-eye stare, in the hopes of snagging a delicious morsel whenever possible! Many a masterchef recipe is cooked up in the newly renovated kitchen, however occasionally even the best plans of kelpie and masterchefs can go awry. Such it was the other day with the idea of a tossed, chopped creation of emu mettwurst, coriander and other paraphernalia going off-road when, in the name of expediency, I decided to blend the ingredients instead.

As you, dear reader, can plainly see. This was not a good idea. My diced salad had turned into a puree. Warney might have loved it, but the PG had higher standards than the Sheik of Tweak! Shortcuts make long delays as they say and now I had little option but to add breadcrumbs and turn the mixture into rissoles.
A tasty result and all's well that end's well.....but the day was not done!

No! Lunch may have been an averted disaster to rival the Ardennes Campaign however dinner was still to come. ..........

This time the dish was planned out well in advance and prepared to perfection by the mistress of masterchefs, Ma! A delicious rack of two-tooth roasted to perfection!

A fantastic end to the PG's culinary experience of that day! If alls well that ends well, then that night, all was very, very well!

PG Out.

What Becomes of the Pool God Hearted?

2011-08-01T23:22:00.003+10:00

So the road trip went as far as Cairns. Then terminated as it was so beautiful. Then the inevitable return in a car with one headlight, one tailight and bumpers hanging off by occy straps! But the PG made it back, the White Lady was restored better than new, she's now high-tech! That is to say she has a high number of tech-screws in her chassis but better than the pissy clips they use to hold bumpers in these days. Then back up to Brisbane ostensibly for a couple of job interviews but mostly to escape the cold, chase some tail and catch the cats at the Gabba. Then the inevitable return.

So....NOW what for the PG? He is again on the job search but this time a little older a little wiser. Instead of the hell-bent, apply for everything then swing at the first pitch which has worked so poorly for PG in the past, this time I shall be more discerning. Only targeting jobs in a certain minimum pay scale, mostly of a 9-5 nature with focus on instrument work over benchwork which is below the PG. Mostly Melbourne applications though keeping an eye on anything in the mining areas which offer relocation assistance. However if its too much a down n dirty bucket chemistry type role then it is shunned. Obviously, by being more choosy the time it will take for locking in a role shall be longer, but likewise the prospects of longevity shall also increase. In theory. After storing up a great reservoir of cash I shall BLOW IT ALL ON BAHAMA MAMAs yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaah! Ha ha ha, no I shall then use it go back to uni and get a fucking degree that translates into an actual job in the field of the degree. Eg a Civil Engineering degree which leads of course to a career in engineering as opposed to a fucking BSc with a Physiology major that leads to analytical sciences as there are no fucking jobs in physiology! Pha!

Well that's the plan anyway. Only time will tell how it all works out. But I got a Till then, GO CATS!

PG Out.

ROAD TRIP!

2011-04-28T23:24:00.005+10:00

Well vintage is over. Easter is over. My job as a vintage lab tech is over. 5 grand in the bank. Only one thing to do.
ROAD TRIP!
YEEEHHHAAAAAHHHH! THE PG IS GOING AROUND AUSTRALIA! OR ROUND AUSTRALIA! DEPENDS ON YOUR PREFERENCE!

ANYWAY Below is the itinerary, note places with no dates, I've set no schedules other than I'm leaving tomorrow, staying in Renmark and then heading to Mildura Sat. All places listed below are places where I'll bivouac except Bathurst, which is a way point, and Townsville on the way back from Cairns, which is a waypoint.

Destination State
Renmark SA
Mildura Vic
West Wyalong NSW
Bathurst NSW
Dubbo NSW
Armidale NSW
Brisbane Qld
Calliope Qld
Mackay Qld
Townsville Qld
Cairns Qld
Townsville Qld
Hughendale Qld
Mt Isa Qld
Three Ways Roadhouse NT
Mataranka NT
Darwin NT
Timber Creek NT
Halls Creek WA
Broome WA
Port Hedland WA
Nanutarra Road House WA
Overland Road House WA
Perth WA
Albany WA
Esperance WA
Cocklebiddy WA
Nullabor Road House WA
Ceduna SA
Port Augusta SA
Adelaide SA
Tarpeena SA

Total distance to be travelled approximately is 14,445 km or 2,000 km further than the distance Sydney to Los Angeles! I've approximated the cost in LPG to be about $1727 so provided I keep other expenses down I should be able to do it in 5 grand easy. Given there will be no accommodation costs, camping with an axe, station wagon, matches, dutch oven and a porta stove for me and cheap goon instead of delightful homebrew and single malt scotch! *Sigh* It will be a sacrifice but I'll just have to hang tough!

Anyway time to burn some CDs for my road trip, shower and sleep. The adventure begins tomorrow! Now, I was planning on a cheap laptop fed by car charger but alas, the arseholes at retravision MG did not have the catalogue special in stock. So I will continue to blog....but in the offline version. IE pen and paper! I'll update the written into the online version when I have the opportunity. I believe I did the same for the five seconds I was working in the mines. Well cheerio beloved readers, I need my shut eye!

PG Out.

The Road Ahead III: Return of the Pool God

2011-03-08T22:13:00.004+11:00

So here I am again back in good ol Tarps, arrived for a holiday staying for vintage due to a fortuitously placed ad in the Border Watch. The circle seems to repeat except this time I've a decent short-term job for raking in some good cash. Tomorrow I post off my medical to DFR for GE into the Army: trying to get over to Afghanistan before the war runs out. Well not much to do but drink, work, party on, beat the old man in darts, save up some cash. At end of vintage will take a little holiday to Cairns then into the Army hopefully. They are so much like a jilted lover when it comes to re-entry though we'll see.

Well that's it. Short n Sweet.

PG Out.

Indisputable Cure to the Hiccups!

2011-02-12T20:32:00.002+11:00

Hah this comes for a man who has a degree in SCIENCE majoring in PHYSIOLOGY! And is a career drunkard! So....if anyone knows how to cure hiccups, its ME! Anyway, hiccups are a serial contraction of the diaphragm caused by a misfiring of the epiglottis. Essentially your epiglottis thinks you're swallowing water and so contracts to stop you from 'drowning' when in fact nothing is happening at all. Stupid epiglottis! The cure?

Massage the epiglottis. Specifically, gently massage the area just above where a man's adam apple would be (for ladies) and just above your adam's apple (for men) with your fingers on one side and your thumb the other. This completely relaxes all muscles involved in the hiccup reflex and terminates the hiccup instantly. I should know, I did it just then!

Well, to surmise, I AM A GENIUS!

PG Out

To Their Door

2011-02-05T22:58:00.005+11:00

Moved up to Brisbane too early
Never had no money
Then with the natural disasters
It really hit the skids.

Not enough cash for drinkin
Wallahs upstairs were too noisy
Sent a letter to the agent,
Wallahs upstairs were behaving like kids

Said "I'm not standing by"
"To have them interrupt my shut-eye
"So watch me walking, out the door"
Out the door, out the door

I said, "Shove it Cao I'm walking out the fucking door!"

I went to Kennards, got a little storage
Parents sent a msg, said I wanna see ya
Thought it sounded better, jumped into the car

I was driving through the cane,
In the pouring rain,
In a falcon,
To their door
To their door
To their door

Came in on a Sunday, every muscle aching
Banjo came out barking, like he'd just been hit
Was his master staying? Would he know his kelpie?
Then the parents came out, and nearly had a fit

I was shivering in my seat, driving through the streets,
In a falcon, to their door, to their door,
Shivering in my seat, wondering what happened to the heat?
In a falcon, to their door
To their door
To their door
To their door

PG Out.

30 Days of Truth - PG style.

2011-01-12T23:45:00.029+11:00

Flogged this from someone else's blog who in turn flogged it from someone else's blog. Figured I'd give it a go, PG style, before I hit the hay. But, as always I'm way ahead of the curve and need not 30 days to complete this. Try 30 minutes! Here we go!

Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself.
Sometimes I hate that I'm so awesome.
Day 02 → Something you love about yourself.
Everything!
Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Taking six years for a three year degree and coming out with only one major, that has no jobs. Grrrrr! That and not buying gold when it was $600 an ounce and I thought, "Gee, gold's cheap." Grrrr!
Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.
Dad, for eating my Ferrero Rocher. Well it's been about fifteen years. Dad, I forgive you.
Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.
Keep a job for more than five seconds. Hmmmm.
Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.
Give an elephant an enema. Surely can't end well.
Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.
James Squire, for being the first to grow hops on Australian soil. Cheers!
Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Victoria fucking police and their fucking speed guns right next to 100K signs. C**Ts!
Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
That beer I left on the banks of the Brisbane river that got swamped by the wake of a ferry on NYE. Poor thing just drifted out to sea narry to be seen again.
Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
I dunno, when PG wants to let someone go, then go they are let! Oh the husband of the best friend of my girl friend. He IS a prick! Hope he falls off his motorcyle and gets hit by a tram maw ha ha ha! (Ok little harsh but there you go.)
Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Youthful looks. May they last inshallah!
Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.
Singing ability. Good reason for that though.....
Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Well I'd like to say Metallica but they're not really a de-stress band! Motor Ace. Oh write a letter? Alright. Today's Day 13 has been brought to you by the Letter 'M'. Ha! There's a letter for ya!
Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Bomber Thompson you traitorous fuck! Still also delivered two premierships so still more love than hate but if I'm watching a match involving Essendon, and you walk on the ground, prepare to be BOOOOOED! Ha ha ha! Oh another letter? What about X? Prick of a letter in scrabble but put two more together and you get XXX which is FUN! Add another and you unfortunately get XXXX which is shit!
Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Oxygen. Tried plenty of times to hold my breath but no go, just can't live without it. And, of course, BOOOOOOZZZEEEE!
Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Pancreatic cancer.
Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
'The Road to Copenhagen'. He he he he.
Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.
No thanks, I'm straight. Oh you mean OTHER people who ARE gay getting married? Fine, go for it. The only objections are based on religious arguments, which is no argument at all.
Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
The first stage towards world peace and true enlightenment of man is the abolishment of all fucking religion! Gah! As for politics, give me Chinese Imperialism....er....'Communism' as they call it now, any day! Try seeing a fucking Greenie get by in China maw ha ha ha ha.
Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Legalise and tax the first and remove the tax on the other. Booyah!
Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Mostly, wonder what Banjo was doing driving a car. Ha ha ha ha.
Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Just the one thing? Hell maybe this fella deserves a post all of its own. But since I said I could knock this off in 30 minutes I'll narrow it down to MOVE TO QUEENSLAND JUST BEFORE X-MAS/NEW-YEAR slow down and in time to catch RECORD RAINFALL FOR MONTHS OF DECEMBER (and probably) JANUARY! Grrrr.
Day 23 → Something you wish you had done in your life.
Enrol in UNE straight out of High School.
Day 24 → Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Hmmm alright. Its a playlist for ME. Just one track. Powderfinger's 'These Days' as its fair to say they turned out nothing like I planned. At least in the song the theme is running out of time but I've still got time yet. Oh another letter? 'P' for PG and Powderfinger.
Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Dumb fucking luck. IF anyone thinks otherwise with respect to this they're kidding themselves. Oh and the fact I'm a god. A Poool God! Yah!
Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Yes. If I'm ever in some accident where it looks like I'll come out a retard, SHOOT ME!
Day 27 → What’s the best thing going for you right now?
That I'm not underwater and atop a high hill.
Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Ha ha ha ah ha! A mini PG to inflict upon the world! Champagne time! (Hell not like I gotta carry it for 9 months and deliver it maw ha ha ha!)
Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
It'd be nice to be a squidgh more even-tempered. Or if I do lose my temper, for it to eventuate in a witty, poignant Dr. Cox like rant as opposed to something less elequoent like, "You know why no-one likes playing against you lot? Cause you're all a bunch of C999ts!" Ha ha ha still it DID have to be said.... Oh as for the temper thing well there HAS been an occasion or two where flying off the handle has gotten me into deep water. Like Toowoomba deep. (Yeah I know it's hot water but going with the flood motif here.)
Day 30 → A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself
Dear PG,

Thank you. For being, well, you. Much love, and forever yours,
PG.

Well there you go and with a minute to spare! Hazaah!

PG Out.

Let There be Light!

2011-01-10T17:52:00.005+11:00

And the Pool God looked upon the low-beam headlight of his Falcon,
And it was darkness.
And the Pool God went to K-Mart and bought a halogen lamp,
And the Pool God said, "Let there be light!"
And there was light.
And it was good.

And the Pool God looked upon the sticking throttle,
And the Spirit of the Pool God moved upon the metal parts,
And the cheap-ass lubricant from Bunnings was sprayed upon the metal parts,
And the Pool God said, "Let the throttle become unstuck!"
And the throttle was unstuck
And it was good.

And the Pool God went home,
And the Pool God opened the fridge,
And the Pool God said, "Let there be beer!"
And there was beer
And it was good.

PG Out.

Hey! I have a Follower!

2011-01-09T15:36:00.002+11:00

Ha hah! My word shall now spread to cover the land until all have cast down their false religions and subscribe to the doctrines of the One True God......Pool God!

(Or not.)

PG Out.

PG's Plan Ahead Part Deux

2011-01-05T19:42:00.011+11:00

And so, following the previous post, we can see it has more or less gone according to plan. I studied that GCIT but unfortunately due to useless Ralph we were denied our darting premiership. None the less I picked up three trophies, well two after the old man smashed my singles trophy in a fit of jealous rage. I have picked up more trophies in two seasons in darts than the old boy has managed in ten! And Cats just weren't switched on enough to win a third premiership in four years, labouring with age, apathy and a traitorous coach who had secretly already packed his bags it seems since mid June. Oh well at least Pa and I, thanks to me, have our names on a WINNING trophy, the Old Man's first Winter Season winning accolade and my second: The Div 3 Red Graded Doubles! Actually its back to back for me with regards to that trophy, only twice have I entered the graded doubles tourney and each time I have taken the choccies.

AND now I'm up in Qld but, according to the plan I'd move here IF I got a job. I realised I needed to be based here to get a job but probably arrived, like Burke and Wills at the wrong time! The difference being B&W arrived when there was no water about, had they taken JK the Great with them there'd have been no problem! But I would have deserted back in Victoria along with most of em when Burke offloaded the rum! ANYWAY the point is I came up in late Nov, lured by a couple of, as it turns out, unprofitable interviews, right in the middle of the Christmas-New Year slow down. So now I'm stuck sitting on my hands with bugger all cash, it all being used in the move up here as well as the settling in, and bored as hell most days, with nothing to study and no work to do!

The situation is made worse by the super thin ceiling and the wallahs upstairs who seem to be on holiday and so are home 24/7 it seems. I might go out for a walk or a drive to the river but even when I'm out for hours, when I return, the wallahs are still here! Indeed they never seem to leave, even if one or two do the rest stay behind to bang around, meaning I gots to have my music cranked almost all day, not very peaceful! Naturally this would be less of a problem IF I had a job as I'd be gone 8 hours a day so it'd be less irritating but I don't so grrrrrrrr. If anyone had been home when I was inspecting the place (a complete fluke as it turns out, to inspect when no-one was home) so I could have known how bullshit the 'ceiling' is I would have continue on inspecting. Of course my hand was forced a bit by Jew boy but that's a different tale for a different time.

Anyway hopefully the situation picks up in the next month or so, also since one has to look at a 'variety' of jobs for the dole I'm also keepin an eye out for one or two casual jobs not in the labby field to bring in some cash and keep me occupied so I'll see how that goes. HOWEVER if I haven't scored a job in six months I might up stakes and return to the land of Banjo, go back to applying from afar but pretending to be near, though in the long and chequered history of JK, it has never taken more than 3 months of intensive job seeking to find a job so shouldn't come to that. Of course at the six month point it'll be winter in the land of Banjo and methinks I won't want to come back!

Well anyway that's the future. The present is my second last bottle of beer, (Oh no!) good thing I get some dole tomorrow, then maybe stretch my legs as my bum's sore from this shitty seat that came with the room. Saw a cheap office works chair on tele today so tomorrow I also will check that out.

Well that's all from me, cheerio!

PG Out

The PG's Plan Ahead

2010-07-14T21:56:00.004+10:00

So as you will all now be aware, and by all I mean me, I will be heading to Adelaide for some DFR testing for a GSO position with the Army. Now no doubt I'll progress on through all this and on to the officer board where I will no doubt be turned down for being just too damn good-looking. *Sigh* the pain beauty brings with it.

ANYWHO so after that happens I suppose I should have a plan for the road ahead. Into the last round of darting (Honestly why do we have to flog the same mob of no hopers THREE times prior to finals? Surely two rounds is sufficient.) and of course footy finals creeping round the corner, don't particularly want anything to conflict with that. Furthermore been given an all but assurance of Austudy for the GCIT one-semester course I'm enrolled in with a tax return to come. SOOOOO I might as well stay put till November, study the GCIT to keep the mind ticking over, pick up darts premiership and watch a third GEEEEELOOONNNGGG premiership from Len's lounge room. Even if I have to light his bbq and fire myself as Len is currently on a tour of the Greek island of Glencoe, return date unknown. When a man packs his homebrewing kit you know he might be planning on staying away for awhile!

IN AUGUST I shall also have to apply for the nursing thang but not sure if I can stomach three more years of study. No, round November time I'll start sending applications out for labby jobs up north, if it turns out I don't get any well then I can cross the nursing bridge, round of offers isn't till January sometime so that's three months of job applications.

SO THERE that's the plan......for now. Might as well look about for some local jobs on the ol web but HAH not much in that vein down these here parts.

Well.....time for another brew!

PG Out.

A St. Pattie's Day Poem

2010-03-18T19:27:00.001+11:00

The Darts Playing Man.

With washing tumbling to the mess I made my way,
With money in my left hand and darts in my right,
I ordered a Guinness and switched on the light,
To drink and darts on this merry St Patrick’s Day.

Toe on oche, tungsten in hand,
Ricochet off barrel, deflection off flight,
The darts whistling throughout the desert night,
The thrill known only to the darts playing man.

The warm-up over, the practice began,
The score was steady, pegged in one dart,
Thirty-four overall, an admirable start,
The thrill known only to the darts playing man.

Into trouble in the second our hero ran,
The muck cart came during the leg,
Forty-four, bad scores, struggled with the peg,
The frustration known only to the darts playing man.

To the bar to recharge with another can,
“Last Drinks!” the call, the darts soar,
Ton thirty-eight, then eighty more,
The thrill known only to the darts playing man.

Toe on oche, tungsten in hand,
Ricochet off barrel, deflection off flight,
Darts whistling throughout the desert night,
Sixty the peg, twenty in one but blocks the bed,
At least to the mortal but the PG sees red,
The second high but does its part,
The third and twenty-forth off the second, GAME OF DARTS!
The thrill known only to the darts playing man.

PG Out.

The PGs Work Diaries

2010-01-27T19:33:00.005+11:00

Hey all since there's no mobile and I at current have no moola for a phone card I shall be keeping you all updated on what's happening up here in the middle of nowhere via the blog. Diary style.
Time for the first entry.

The PG Has Landed

Woke up early bout 0645 feeling just a little seedy from Oz day celebrations. Just had some water and centrum, figured I'd get brekky at the airport and away I went with Mercedes after her usual morning tantrums. The drive was easy and thanks to recon using Google Maps I was able to locate the hidden enchanted grove where I could sequester Mercedes until the time of the half moon. Of I had removed all the contents of her boot in case the force of evil break the spell of concealment and jimmy the boot lock.

Walked to the general terminal where I offloaded my baggage then went to the main terminal and enjoyed some breakfast and then, causality being what it is, the nice clean toilets of the terminal. The terminal is the last new thing to be built in Adelaide and I must say it is one of the few things done well in that city.

Whiling away the time when, incredulously, I heard the voice of Sha talking on the phone. Turned my head and there was him and his brood, hah thought I'd seen the last of that lot for a fortnight! Turns out that my plane was delayed and so they ended up leaving before me!

FINALLY the plane arrived, rather cosy but at least it was all single seats, flight giving me a chance for much needed shut eye.

Touchdown at 1430 to greet the desert heat. Actually it was rather overcast. Personally I don't mind the desert heat it has a sort of wholesome feeling about it as opposed to the heat in a city.
Grabbed some grub then that word we all hate......INDUCTION!

Don't geeeetttt meeee wrooooong inducitions are wholly necessary to ensure safety and besides with no PPE other than my safety boots I couldn't do anything at all. Still they tend to overdo it, we don't need to know how cyanide is produced industrially to be aware of the safety precautions necessitated by its use. Also, when you have a chequered work history as I do, you get to be more than familiar with JSAs, lock out tags and the like.

Back to my room at 1800, not too pleased with this situation. I've been assigned someone else's permanent room which is pissweak considering I am permanent staff and was expecting my own permanent room. They're getting on to assigning me a permanent room and at least the bedding etc is fresh. Still its a double whammy, you're invading someone else's space AND you don't have a space of your own.

Got a little down, specially bout the half-arse nature of my arrival with no PPE, no own room, wrong fucking name on the flight manifest, but then I went to the mess. The sight of a rare piece of rump renewed my spirits as is this req room.

Best of all, even though there's say circa 130 staff on site, with two shifts that means there's only round 65 people using the mess etc at one time, and then the mess hours running from 1630 till 1930 stretch out this load so its not as crowded as I thought. Still, with no cash the wet mess is of no use to me, forced two-week alcohol free period for the PG. Oh well I guess a little break now and then can't hurt.

Well off to reconnoitre the gym, then a shower n a shave, go to bed early so I can use the gym in the morning tomorrow, mess is open for breakfast from 0430 on with a troop transport leaving at 0540, there's a walking track but I don't have the high vis stuff yet so can't use that. (At least there's some spare work pants and shirts around so I'll be able to put on near-fitting stuff till I get my own gear). Not that I think I would use the track, why walk twenty minutes for a 3 minute drive?

Well one day down, 13 remaining.

PG Out.

Call Change

2010-01-12T20:52:00.007+11:00

As the sky to the south turns golden, the sun peeking out from below the blissful cloud cover that has cooled things down a bit and produced some much neeed rain, I reflect on the day that has been. Funny how things can change in a few hours. The first thing that changed was the temperature. At about 7 this morn the heat broke and the rain came down, apparently. I was fast asleep, having stayed up last night tossing down brews and watching good old fashion VHS tapes, it being too hot to sleep. When I did rise I was greeted by a sight not seen for some days, BANJO! More specifically, a WET banjo! Lately, whenever I've gotten up, the mutt has raised an ear from whatever shady spot he's been lying in fore slumping back down to sleep. This time he came trotting up and, in true dog fashion, made sure to lean his wet, smelly self against me for maximum saturation. Bloody Kelpies!

The next thing to change was that the phone rang. Being a perth number I expected a call following up a darwin job I thought had long expired, having applied back in November, but was actually still alive. Turns out it was a different mining job, this one a position I knew had expired, having the email letter of rejection to prove it. Apparently a "new position has opened up" so the person was asking if I was still available (yeah) and whether or not I could forward on some referees (yup). This meant that I did not even progress to referee check stage last time!

Later, after taking the mutt out for a jog, the phone rang again. A perth number again, this time the afore mentioned darwin job, hiring manager following up the short-list his lackey had made earlier.

So already the balls in play from The Road Ahead post have increased. Though only by one, I've not been accepted for that Uranium mining position. Of course nothing has changed as of yet but at least the prospects are looking bright. And yes that was a double pun, see if ya can figure out why.

Finally, as I was composing this blog, the phone rang. This time ghosts of christmas past, twas the ex thanking me for a parcel I had sent, some shoes she had left behind in her haste to have a hissy fit. I had also included one of her christmas presents, a small one, the large one having been returned with alacrity and converted into scotch. From the tone of her voice I suppose she thought that this inclusion meant that I might be in a frame of mind to overturn my initial decision in terminating the relationship, but I was sure, in civil but flat tones, to give her no false hope. That's one ball that will never be in play again. If I was Dad I would probably put it as, she won't be playing with my balls any longer. But I'm not that uncouth.

Well now to practice some darts as Banjo sleeps on the couch, if I do get any of these jobs it will be a case of change begets change since the old man will have to restructure his darts team. But not to count the eggs before they're in the pudding, we'll just wait and see.

PG Out.

On Luck and Other L Words

2010-01-06T01:13:00.012+11:00

Before the commencement of the second day's play in the SCG test yesterday I thought to myself, "All things being equal I would prefer Hilfenhaus over Siddle in my lineup because Siddle is just one of the bowlers that are plain lacking in luck." By stumps on day 2 the commentators were talking about Siddle's lack of luck with the new ball, a dropped catch by Marcus "I'm on thin ice" North, and several beaten edges leaving him without a wicket before lunch. Commentating on his bowling figures for the summer and overall they also pointed out how Siddle deserved better figures but was of course, unlucky. Game of darts. It's funny how big a role that intangible substance known as luck can have on our humble lives.

Long, long time ago, I can barely remember when, I pulled out of the Tintinara Mobil, turning right towards Adelaide. A little fatigued I was deceived into thinking I was turning onto a dual carriage-way, the median strip which separates the town from the Dukes highway giving that impression, and I only looked left. As I turned right, HELLO!!! there was a truck approaching. Well a few extra beans on the accelerator and I was safe, but I had completely not looked right whatsoever. That truck could have been 1 m away, it could have been 1,000 m away, it was only luck that it was distant enough not to cause a crash. Driving on the highways as I often do there must be a half-dozen other stories of lucky near-misses, those all based around other driver's incompetence, where the PG could have been no more.

I've often thought that I have the statistically average sort of luck. I'll never be an outlier on either side due to luck. That is to say I'll never be in the wrong place at the wrong time, nor will I ever be in the right place at the right time, at least not by good or bad fortune anyways. I suppose one could say that means luck will never play a huge part in my life for good or for ill. And I reckon that's how I prefer it.

So that's luck. Now on to other things.

Ladies.

Lucky in cards, unlucky in love? Well I seem to be unlucky in both, compensating through judicious use of skill to narrow the margin of luck in both areas to as small in possible. Still through it all I've come to the following realisation, achieved on the early morning cycle yesterday.

When it comes to relationships women are like the governing chips on six-cylinder sedans. Most men need the safety and comfort these chips provide. But for the few that just wish to go fast as hell and damn to the consequences, well the chips are just annoying restraints that we will always wish to shed in the end.

A cynic could point out that I haven't exactly broken any metaphorical land speed records as yet but I could as easily counter with the fact I've spent the last 8 of the 9 years previously in a relationship. Indeed the only year since 2002 that I've been single wire to wire was, as previously mentioned, a full-on 2008 crowned with the achievement of me gaining the ol BSc. QED.

And what of the saying, behind every great man is a good woman? Poppycock. Churhill, Wellington, Nelson, Smuts, Hitler. Only one of these had a life-long monogamous partner. Yup, Hitler was the one. Of those great men that have had wives those were of the quiet, bright but demure types that deferred always to the will of their husband, in short of the type that rare exist in this day and age. Of course any generalisation lends itself by its nature to exceptions but the odds of the PG finding one of these exceptions are through the roof. And like I said, I'm not a lucky person when it comes to cards or love so no chance there. Nope looks like I'll be sailing a solo course from now on, with the occasional stay in port of course.

Actually I've touched a couple of times on that other L word, love. To me, love is nought but a magician's trick which the PG has worked out. Now I may watch as the masses sit enthralled and mystified, grinning that small, slightly sad, somewhat wistful grin as I look upon that which once held me in the same thrall but no longer has an effect, yet all the time knowing I would not trade that knowledge which seperates myself from the throng for quids.

Well there we go, some poignant thoughts it seems. Good things no-one reads this but the olds and they will soon forget. Anyway time to catch zome z's, interview tomorrow, 2010 will be the year I press pedal to the metal mark my words!

PG Out.

The Road Ahead

2010-01-01T23:27:00.005+11:00

So 2009 has been and gone for not much gain for the PG. Alright granted there was a Geelong premiership, you fucking beauty. I also scored Mercedes, the loveliest Volvo on earth, even if she does require a little extra attention. Found a chick, broke up with her, got back together then broke up again, this time for good. Gathered truckloads of that immeasurable ubiquitous substance known as ‘life experience’. Aside from that little else was gleaned from ‘09, indeed I ended 2009 where I started it, a penniless graduate that lives in his parents backyard and keeps a black, fat-gutted, slacker of a kelpie as company. Still I no complain. (Actually yes I do and often!) What I mean is, honestly 09 went more or less as expected, I knew after the full-on 2008, which incorporated full-time work and study, residential schools, 20 days in a tent during the Armidale autumn, surgery on sheep, crazy Iranians (is there any other kind of Iranian?), Dan the Dirty Dickhead from Dubai, walking from city to Caulfield with luggage and sundry, a year in which I dropped to as low as 66 kg, well after all of that in 2008 I expected I would dial things back a bit in 2009. And dial back I did. Except on the exercise front, my jogs out to 8-10km my cycles out to about 18-20km with the 15 km jog and 45 km cycle the maximums. But enough about the year that has expired. Its time to pay heed to the title of this post and discuss the year that has just begun to draw breath.

The Big E

No I’m not talking bout the world’s largest ecstasy tablet, though that may be the subject of a google search whilst I write. No E is for Employment!!!! I previously mentioned last year was about life experience. Well I’ve passed through that post-graduation haze of uncertainty to gaze upon the pristine shoreline of conviction. I now have some firm set of expectations and criteria when it comes to the career ahead.

Firstly, to relate the balls currently in play. The biggest and slow moving is the Defence Force, specifically the Navy. When those perennial incompetents at DFR cease their unearned holiday and return to the daily grind of fucking up, my case file will progress to the testing stage. You know it only took them 5 months to get to this stage but clap clap for the handicap. The smallest and fastest moving is the casual position at the wineries. The contract has come, I’ve signed on the dotted line and sent it back so have a job pencilled in for the 2010 vintage. That should be a nice haul of ducats if I have no other offers by then. (This just in, there is no data on the world’s largest ecstasy tablet, the world’s largest ecstasy haul occurred in Oz in 2008 and involved 4.9 tons of E! Told ya, 2008 was a full-on year!) Speaking of offers, in Jan 11 the acceptances for GET go out so I’ll know whether I’ve been accepted into that in ten days from now. Of course I’ll get accepted but one mustn’t count one’s eggs till they’re in the pudding. The Dip Ed, combined with the vintage job offers the PG a good fall-back position should everything else fall by the wayside.

This week or next at the very latest I expect to hear from the gents involved with the Lithgow job. I am a bit sceptical about that position though as I think they may be offering a salary below my cut-off. When talking on the pointless phone interview late last year they asked for my range and I, adjusting for a lower COL for a rural position, stated 45-50K. The interviewer then went on about the COL of Lithgow and how he wouldn’t of course want to offer something I couldn’t live off but did not address specifically my reply which I thought dodgy. Either he thinks I’m being modest and asking too little or, more likely, they are looking to offer less than that and the phone guy was looking to convince me that they wouldn’t offer an unreasonable salary. We shall see. Personally I think I over-adjusted. As I mentioned before I am gazing out on the pristine coast of conviction and so now I have clearer criteria for my career. The Defence Force are offering about 44, plus a swag of allowances for GEO, the pay then rising once initial training is complete. This means for any job to beat out the ADF it must offer at least 50K in my book. Certainly the job I interviewed for in Tullamarine is offering 50-60K and that’s a hell of a lot more like it. But I won’t know about that until well into Feb, the lab manager having not the benefit of some HR monkey to do the hiring for him. Now for those out there that may think I’m shooting too high well two things. One: get stuffed it’s my life and I’ll decide the bloody rules about what jobs I take and what I leave thankyou very much. Two: the pay level is a reflection of what the role requires. As the old saying goes, pay peanuts, get monkeys. Well it seems many an analytical lab in Melbourne is quite happy with monkeys and their pretend degrees from Punjab and pay accordingly. Bully for them. But I won’t be making the mistake of working for one of those places ever again. Thus the cut-off salary.

So to surmise we have the Tulla job, the Lithgow job, with the wineries and dip ed as back-up. Indeed the dip ed can be studied in any situation other than the def force, naturally if accepted into the def force I would neither have the opportunity nor the need to pursue GET, at least not for a number of years. I should point out with the def force, even if rejected by the officer board for the navy position, by that stage I would have a swag of paperwork completed which would port over (get it?) to a application with the air force and then the army so there’s a three in one deal there. Incidentally, if I take a civvy job before reaching the off board, I intend to then change my application to Army Reserve Officer and so that way I don’t waste the work done (by me, not by the useless pricks at DFR) so far application wise.

In addition to all this there are still some live applications out there in the aether, including one for a lab in a uranium mine out in the SA desert. That should pay well. There’s also an app for a technologist role in MG. That would be mum’s ideal, me working f/t, studying the dip ed and living within twister range. AND I’d be available for darts. Hah! The ideal job then from Ma, Pa and Banjo’s perspective. Ah hell if that turns up trumps before the def force, like I said earlier, I’ll change to Army reserve Officer Entry. But we all know MG jobs are mere works of fiction. Especially in places like the timber mills. Case of boss’ mate is already teed up and advertising only cause they have to.

Anyway I intend to keep searching and applying until successful, admitted into the def force, or Jan 20 whichever comes first. Most likely Jan 20. That’s the vintage start. After that I’ll continue to progress with the def force application which will no doubt be just restarting given the snails pace the dfr fuckwits work at, interview for any existing job aps, start studying on my GET, but will not apply for anything else other than that golden job, the Research Assistant position. I should note that I intend using only my SA address from now on, even for Melb jobs, they can phone interview like the fucking rest of em or suck it.

Well that’s that on the E front. Naturally the rest of my 2010 will centre around how that whole employment thing pans out, whichever way it goes it promises to be interesting.

PG On The Ladies

One thing I sure as hell won’t be doing in 2010 is going anywhere near anything remotely resembling a long-term relationship. As the Person Formerly Known as Anonymous puts it, “Women go crazy after 3 months.” Revised to, “All women are crazy.” Amen to that brother, amen. 2010 will be about me, earning cash, progressing towards career goals and maintaining my independence. I won’t be meeting any fucking parents, or trying to get along with people who I wouldn’t piss upon in the normal course of things even if they were on fire etc. etc. When it comes to partners and family let the Billbo baggins and Baldy II worry bout that. I’ll be worrying bout myself.

Well that’s that, looks like I’m set for an awesome 2010, BRING IT!

PG Out.

Selfish Pricks

2009-12-28T20:58:00.005+11:00

Its funny how selfish pricks always seek to deny their selfish prickism despite clear evidence to the affirmative. The three stooges in particular have always been selfish pricks and always will be. Like the fact yours truly would go to the crowded bar of the espy on NYE 2008 and purchase a jug and three cups for his brethren. Only to discover the selfish pricks had made their way to the bar seprately and thought, of course, only about themselves, like the selfish pricks they are, each purchasing a single pint.

Like boxing day 2008 when yours truly, with cunning and guile, had already made his way out to the stupid statue outside gate 6, where he waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually ringing the selfish pricks, this time a pair of bald ones, to find they had simply walked right past the statue and kept walking towards the pub, not bothering to look for yours truly.

Like boxing day 2009 when nobody decided to say, "Hey PG's clearly not here, he's half an hour behind schedule because he's the only one to take the dog out today before going on his 20km ride, lets save him a little bit of this plentiful bounty" Nope. How could one expect that from selfish pricks? Nope it was a case of "Mine mine mine mine" the mantra of the selfish pricks. Didn't even leave the cook more than one spring roll. This of course being the opposite of yours truly who can be constantly heard saying, "You had any yet?" before taking his share (and no more).

Like the rich husband who, since he's not buying for himself, spends $6 on a bottle of clean skin crap from the famed citrus country of Lyrup. Citrus. Not wine. This whilst standing in the famed wine country of Coonawarra surrounded by bargain top drops.

That's okay, selfish pricks will always be selfish pricks. Key thing here is a case of when in Rome. Now I'll just head to the bar and get my own. I'll bypass the fucking statue and head straight to the pub or the train. I'll make sure to eat my fill and damn to the fate of the other selfish pricks. So don't come this way looking for benevolence, help, charity, understanding or anything of the like, oh those of the selfish prickdom. Because this shop is closed!
PG Out.

What the Hell?

2009-12-03T22:04:00.004+11:00

Happened to Australia? Once upon a time a degree, some nice clothes and a firm handshake would open doors. Now you also need to address selection criteria, proffer academic transcripts and be ingratiated with every member of the self-righteous selection panel. Wogs, Lebs, Indians and every other kind of permanent resident and temporary work visa (nothing against the honest people that come here looking for citizenship and accept Australian ideals) holding fuckwit infesting the nation looking to make a quick buck before fucking off to the hell-holes they came from in the process. Aboriginals sit on the land 'handed back' to em by that Mabo bullshit, drinking tinnies as we throw money at them so they can continue their self destructive cycle of alcoholism, sexual crimes, petrol sniffing, violence and diabetes. Meanwhile mullahs sit on every street corner preaching why the damn nation that extended a friendly hand to it should be blown up in the name of Jihad, whilst national leaders making policy based on that piece of relgious crap known as "Global Warming". All the while the populace grow fatter and more idiotic.

In short. We've turned into America. What the fuck?

PG Out.

More Footy Predictions

2009-12-03T21:01:00.002+11:00

I told ya we'd win the premiership in 09 it'd be our finest hour and I was right. I'll be right bout Brisbane and a premiership by 2013. And now another couple o predictions. Ross Lyon will be JASSKC (Just Another Sacked St Kilda Coach) by the end of 2010. Unless years left on his contract is an issue then it'll come a bit later. But sure as shit he won't get a contract renewal once the one he's on runs out. "We'll move ya on" Well you had the chance to move people on but rather than trade and at least get something, you've lost two players to the draft for NOTHING? With that kind of arrogant stupidity YOU'LL be the one moving on Lyon. Maw ha ha ha ha suck it.

Also Hawthorn will actually stop partying long enough to make the finals. BUT not top four so another Mad Monday before the last Saturday in September for that lot.

GEEEELOOOOONNNNGGGG will make top four yet again. Another Grand Final? Hopefully. Another Premiership? We'll see.

PG Out.

Take That Garrett!!!!

2009-11-04T21:50:00.000+11:00

Dear Honourable Member for Kingsford Smith,

Are we to see a concert, led by yourself, outside the offices of 'PTTEP Australasia' as we saw outside the offices of 'Exxon' after that famous oil spill? Or perhaps even a one-line comment in the news? The Minister for Environment has been strangely mute on the issue of the West Atlas oil spill which began on 22nd of August. It seems emergency has gone, apathy is rolling on within the Labor Party in regards to this disaster. Changing the system from within? Hardly.

Kind Regards,
John Keenan

Beware Brisbane

2009-10-25T18:16:00.002+11:00

I was watching the 2007 premiership....GEEEEELOOOOONNNGGGG!!!!! and was struck by how insightful Voss' comments were. He anticipated a number of passages of plays, remarked on how Geelong were winning the game and also picked Stevie J for the Norm Smith. The trade week this year further bears marks of Voss' far-seeing influence not to mention that luck break with the Fev trade. Big Mick must be praising the Egyptians for coming up with beer! Also if you look at the Lion's B&F it is the best, well mixed list of top 10 players that you could find outside the top 10 for the Carji Greeve. It will be an interesting, even season next year but look out for the Lions! If they don't have a premiership by the end of 2013, barring some great calamity, then I'll swim the length of the Adelaide River, crocs n all! Hah!
PG Out.

Cats Premiers 2009!

2009-09-28T21:50:00.001+10:00

Well done Catters! Harder at the ball, always looking to take their opportunites and more polished in the end, this WAS their finest hour! Geeeeeeeloooonnnnngggg! The Greatest Team of All!
PG Out.

The Fable of the Pool God and the Philosopher's Starter Motor

2009-09-10T22:49:00.021+10:00

The Pool God, or PG as he was known, was the most handsome, smartest, most charismatic and envied being in all the land. Indeed his prowress with cue tip, dart tip, footy tip (and another tip which bears not mention in a fairy tale) was legendary. Legendary too was his pride and stubborness, inherited from his faeiry parents, the Magical Bald Brewer and the Kitchen Nymph Nuran Nahar Nisha.

One day PG drove his sky-blue enchanted chariot Mercedes through the Wilds of Northern Melburnia, pulled by four silver, barrel chested stallions, the strength of which tallied to more than a hundred and twenty regular horses, to the palace of Princess Kim, the young fair maiden that the Pool God was courting.

The Princess Kim greeted the god joyfully.
"Wither now, my PG?"
"To the land of beer and pizza my dear, for it is Friday and a tradition of my kine to sup on baked dough topped with meats, vegetables and fermented milk whilst imbibing brewed ales."

The two sprung into the Enchanted Chariot, only for the horses to let out a scream of anguish. Twice, thrice and many times more the god tried to set his horses into a trot and each time they let out a peal of the most ear-shattering tone, refusing to move.

"Shall I send for thy friend the smith, for he lives down the lane yonder?" Princess Kim inquired.
"NAY! This malady be beyond any mere smith!" PG exclaimed. "This is a curse forsooth placed upon my steeds! I shall have to journey to the dark lands of U-Wrekitia and retrieve the Philosopher's Starter Motor to undo this foul bewitchment."
The Princess frowned. "Are you sure you do not want a smith my lord?"
"I have spoken once on this, I shall speak not more!" PG replied.
And so on that eve the feast was brought to the god and the princess by an Indian riding in a stout little chariot of his own and he was paid well for his services.

The next day was a day of Tournament, where the God attended the Arena to watch the noble knights of the Order of Geelong contest with the barbarians of Bulldog. The barbarians conducted themselves with unusual skill, honour and trademark tenacity but the noble knights were more experienced, more polished, more disciplined and more determined when it counted and they emerged victorious. Hazzah!
PG toasted the victory with his kine but acquitted himself ere the witching hour so that better his chances of procuring the Philosopher's Starter Motor on the morrow.

Sunday dawned and PG was up early, saddling the faithful grey steed El Paj for his long and ardous day ahead. As he made his preparations King James of Kinnoull and the Lady Scilla passed him on their way to see the also rans of the Saintly Order of Kilda and the Savages from the Wood of Collingwobble in their contest at the Arena.
"How now, brother, where ye be hence?" King Jim greeted his brother thus. When informed, King Jim exclaimed, "Are ye sure it is a curse? Perhaps instead you would be better off with a wrench for the fly wheels of your chariot may be worn."
"NAY! No physical means may solve this riddle. It is a Philosopher's Starter Motor I say!"

As the PG rode out the mythical Kiwi Jonothon alighted on his shoulder.
"Whier you bie off to bro?" Again PG explained. "Yie sure it bie a startier motor bro? Sounds like it mieght bie a worn fliewhiel!"
This angered the PG such that he siezed the Kiwi and ripped its beautiful golden wings off. For ever and anon thus the kiwi would be known as a flightless bird.

Long the PG toiled in U Wreckitia, battling with the evil junkyard demons, that assailed the god with their siezed bolts for which even PG's mighty wrenches could not defend. Worse still, such was the cramped spaces in the tunnels below the Volvo graveyard that the PG could not wield his dragon-forged socket set, which surely would have prevailed over even the siezed bolts of the evil junkyard demons.

At last the sun slipped below the horizon and, lest he be trapped in the catacombs of the Volvo graveyard, the valiant PG, covered in dust, grease and blood, had to ride noble Paj back to the Kingdom of Kinnoull. Yet even as he slipped through the gates of U Wreckitia, the PG vowed that he would return.

The next day dawned and PG rode noble Paj to the Wizard of Bunning's. "Oh Wizard, do you have in this great palace of yours a wrench of the light of the moon, the magic and shape of which will allow me to work even in the catacombs beneath the Volvo graveyard in the land of U Wreckitia?"

The Wizard's apprentice replied, "Um. I don't think so....."
The PG smote the fool upon the spot then took a flask of elixer of RP7 and rode in anger and haste to U Wreckitia. Here again the PG did battle with the demons but as they hurled their siezed bolts, the PG held aloft the elixer of RP7, which did shine with a golden light, draining the bolts of their power. Furthermore, the catacombs had been widened during the night by the Fates, who had witnessed the PG's struggle and taken pity upon the valiant god. Triumphantly, the PG vanquished the demons and won through to the Altar of Reward, where the PG found a Philosopher's Starter Motor glowing in the darkness. Dutifully PG paid tribute to the Keepers of the Altar and to the Fates, before riding back to the Kingdom of Kinnoull.

Here Paj was watered, fed and handed to the grooms, for the next leg of the journey would be narrow and treacherous, and only the pack mule Mini Paj would be of use to the god.

Finally PG arrived back at the Palace of Princess Kim, who greeted him with delight, before offering food and water in light of the PG's great strivings earlier. The PG then set about laying the symbols that would precede the Rite of Starter Motor. As the sun slipped once more below the horizon the PG had at last readied himself for the final Rite of Starter Motor.

Suddenly the smith Peter appeared, for he and his wife had been invited to sup with the Princess that eve.
"Has thoust checked thy flywheel lord?" Peter queried.
"Nay." PG replied, this time in good spirits due to his victory in the catacombs below the Volvo graveyard in far away U Wreckitia.
"Perhaps we best check then, ere you perform the long task of the Rite, my lord."
"Very well smith, knock yourself out."
Dutifully the smith Peter attached a 22mm socket to his wrench and struck the wheel of Mercedes, once, twice, thrice.
"Try that my lord."
Willing to humour the good-natured smith, PG sprung into the seat of his chariot and lashed the enchanted horses with the reins. To the god's amazement the horses reared and tossed proudly, ready to pull Mercedes hither or tither.
Discreetly the smith returned to the banquet table.

Not wishing to press his luck, the PG turned his horses for home, rather then risk them falling prey to the same malady whilst waiting in the stables of the palace. As the Princess rushed out to bid her suitor farewell she did so with a smile playing upon her very kissable lips.
"May I say I told thou so my lord?"
Red-faced the god scowled. But such was his joy of victory, and such was the Princess' beauty in the rising moonlight that his trials were at once forgotten and, incredibly, his noble features brightened into a smile that could light the catacombs of the Volvo graveyard in far away U Wreckitia themselves.
"Once, only once and quietly my Princess."
"Told thou so," whispered the Princess, her lips curved from ear to ear in a cheeky grin.
The Pool God leant forward and kissed that grin before flicking the reins and driving Mercedes off into the twilight.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

PG Out.

You Beauty!

2009-08-31T21:32:00.001+10:00

Another Tipster in the bag! Now for Catters to put another premiership in the bag!
PG Out.

Cycles

2009-08-28T21:02:00.013+10:00

Well the Aussies have lost the fucking Ashes, again! And the Catters are in the top two, again! Hazaah! But though we have dropped only a mere four matches all season and have won 22 straight home games since rd 21 '07, apparently we are not as firm favourites as the last two years thanks to the shadow of injuries, the strain of three years at the top beginning to show.

Really we should have fucking won back to back and this year would have been our version of Brisbane's injury-plagued 04, an honourable loss but plenty of laurels to rest upon. None the less one premiership from three is a shite sight more than what we got outta the previous 44 years up to 07, so to say "JUST one premiership" is really stupidity taken to a high degree. BUT I think we will rally in the face of adversity and if the Geelong Football Club should last a thousand years they shall still look back upon the Cat's '09 premiership and say, "This was their finest hour."

Naturally after '09 with anticipated retirements, relocation and major surgeries to some players '10 will be a year of rebuild.

In cycles too has the ownership of the premier football prizes, the Tipster and Slaughterhouse followed. Being an inaugural year specialist it seems I have taken out both trophies in their first year. In '07 I took the Tipster by a huge margin over all and sundry, with Jimbob as I recall the closet in a distant second. Set of course to dominate the ensuing Tipsters forever and anon fate intervened to introduce that ridiculous bonus points bullshit. They're a lucky team at Hawthorn and the luck apparently extends to the fans, for Jimbob jagged a couple of 10s and despite a late charge in 08 by myself, 'King Jim' emerged victorious though I maintained I had more actual tips than he. In '08 after a scrap between Jimbob and myself, then a breakaway by PG, it was OMK with the valiant but fruitless late charge to finish a narrow second in the Slaughterhouse, yours truly taking it out, which is as well considering I fund the damn competition!

This year however it was OMK with the break, 1500+ points at its largest, and the great PG with the late charge, but after closing to within 180 points by round 20, the last two rounds and the Slaughterhouse of 09 belonged to the Old Man. This year also was the closest of the three Tipsters, but after Jimbob shot to a lead, this time the charge of the PG was better timed, taking top spot, with OMK riding in on my coat-tails to take second. The winner overall of that coveted and illustrious trophy we shall only know tomorrow, but if the Old Man is telling the truth tipwise with his proclaimed 4, and providing Rowdy Brown, aka Torrens Mudflats did not pull a miraculous ten out of the bag (In which case she deserves the damn trophy!) and knowing that poor Jim received only 3 this round, well it seems that based on that I have taken the Tipster two from three! Cycles cycles cycles! But I shall keep the champagne on ice till the official results tomorrow. The Old Man has been known to tell tall tales in his time after all.

Now back to the start, the cricket. I was musing over the diminishing performance of the Aussies and the rising stars of the Cheeseheads (South Africa) and Cheeseheads Lite (The Poms, who have more South Africans than Englishmen in their side). The thing is, we have won the past three ICC world cups. And right now the Aussie side, due to retirements of past greats, is at its lowest ebb. Whilst Katich, North and Haddin promise to be batsmen of the future, with Clarke set to take the next step, Hussey and Punter are on the decline, in addition we have no f/t leg spinner and perhaps consequently a bowling attack which has taken twenty wickets in a test only once in my memory out of four test series (Border-Gavaskar in the third-world, Cheeseheads over in Oz, Cheeseheads in Cheesehead land, Ashes in Kipperville). Willing to be corrected on that but certainly in those four test series our bowlers have not taken 20 wickets with anything near the consistency expected of an Australian attack. So now the usual shuffle shall begin. Selectors shall step down or finally get off their arse and make the hard decisions, new players and combinations shall be trialled, those previously assured of a spot shall find themsleves dropped. In two years time another Ashes and another World Cup will roll round and Australia will be ready and rearing no doubt. Conversely the Cheeseheads and the imitation Cheeseheads will be on the wane. We shall succeed once more! Gotta love the cycles!

And now one last cycle, I was awake now I sleep, till tomorrow, when I wake once more. Night night.
PG Out.

Settling In

2009-07-02T18:29:00.002+10:00

Heh a good week, settling in at work, getting along well with the Paj, and got me first f/n pay nice and flawless like. Most of it is squirrelled away but some labile funds remain for expenses and cutting loose this weekend. Go CATS!
PG Out.

Boooyah!

2009-06-11T18:24:00.000+10:00

Hah I have a job in Melbourne at last! THIS time its got career prospects and of course really I couldn't give a shit bout the work long as its sciency and in Melbourne! Ha hah ha hah! Look out sporting capital of the universe, ready or not, here I come!

:)

The stats:
ALS lab group
Lab Tech
Springvale

PG Out.

East Enders Shipwrecked!

2009-06-07T21:40:00.008+10:00

Last Monday the darts team sailed out to Carpenters Rocks and were thus wrecked upon the Rocks Tavern. After splitting the triples 2-0 and 1-2 it was a prompt whitewash in the doubles with not even Ron and I able to stop the rot. 1-4 down after the teams games is a death sentence and after Ant lost in the sacrificial #1 singles spot that the ol man in his forsight had left me out of, we were on wood.

However after taking the first leg playing at #2 (same time as Ant but on right board) my opponent rudely disappeared mid match to go to the loo. After loudly deploring the behaviour of the player, upon his return I promptly finished off the second leg to begin the last charge of the East Enders. 2-0 and I don't recall my opponent even having a dart at a double. That's how ya do it!

Anyway worse than a loud-mouth drunkard is a loud-mouth drunkard that wins and the Rocks players were finally unsettled. More concerned with directing dirty looks and smart-arse remarks in my direction then with darts, their standard began dropping whilst ours lifted. Ron and Martin took out their singles and then even Don took out an unexpected victory, the steady tortoise to his opponents high-scoring but poor-pegging hare. From commanding to desperate the Rocks were at 5-5 leaving OMK at 6 to play the part of the valiant captain, wrenching his ship off the rocks on the crest of a fortunate swell. Unfortunately our captain was instead drunk at the helm and derelict in his duty. Sadly OMK was out of touch in the triples, stood out of the doubles and thus didn't have the best lead up to his match but still he never looked mentally in it and thus it ended, not with a bang but a whimper, OMK down 0-2 and Enders out of the four for now.

Still, the JK was able to escape in a life-boat and row to the safety of the waiting supper which included fresh tuna marinated and cooked to perfection. Previously my experience of tuna was that shit you get out of a can. THIS tuna however deserved the title 'chicken of the sea'. Speaking of which the spicy fried chicken was finger lickin' good too.

After this near-death experience I've decided to change my darting priorities. From now on I won't even pay attention to the ladder nor the progress of the rest of my shipmates, all of which also made it to shore alive, including our captain. Instead I will focus on personal glory and suppers. And the booze. So grog, glory and gastronomical delights! Hence from now on these darts updates will focus even more on yours truly and may include a line somewhere about the overall result which I'll have to ask the old man for! Sounds good to me!

Well this Monday is the public holiday so in any event there won't be a darting update this week.
Cheerio!
PG Out.

PS The only lasting mementos of personal glory in the league are the 180 pins and highest peg trophy (one of which I already have :D) so I'll have to concentrate on grouping for 180's

The Lone Tungsten

2009-05-26T01:31:00.006+10:00

Well last night the Enders foundered in the Southern Derby (South Eastern pub players versus South Australian pub players) 5-6. A hard fought contest perhaps but, despite turning down 2-3 after the teams, a result I previously voiced as all-important, the colours were hoisted high in the midst of battle. Playing in the #1 spot I've made a house of pain for opponents after promising the ol' man that if he put me #1 I would be merciless to my opposition, the great JK drew deep for a 2-1 victory against the SA's best player in Paul Medhurst. After being taken to the cleaners in the first leg, unfortunately for the second time in a row, I rallied my tungsten troops and rocketed down to a professional 24 dart finish with a nice n clean d20 peg. This caused yound Medhurst to waver and break in the face of a fine start from yours truly. Unfortunately my darts began to wander as I approached the 200 and Paul displayed why he plays #1 (and occasionally A-grade) with a 135 (three trebles!) then a 95 to put him in the box seat. However again I steadied under pressure and left an ominous 40 whilst the hotseat got all to much for poor Paul. Sweating profusely, panting like Banjo after a 20km ride and snatching like the long-offloaded Bhudda, poor Paul cocked up two integral opportunities for a double in a row. With that extra 6 darts granted to moi I first narrowly missed my 40 before leaving the precentage option of 20 (last dart off the board to avoid hitting 10, 6 or 15) and then duly pegging in the next turn at the oche. A luxurious 36 darts for me and only 30 for El Pablo the steadier nerves prevailing in the end.

Whilst all this high drama was occuring Ant, eager to leave early, easily accounted for his opponent in a 2-0 flogging. Our two victories were followed up by Martin's return to his stellar form of last year with 23 and 26 dart victories that were beautiful to watch, and in my case, score.

Thus the call to arms in desperate times was heeded by the gallant 1, 2 and 3 of the Enders, flipping the tables on the SA's to put the score at 5-3. One more match for victory! Unfortunately it proved an oche too far as one by one Ralph, then Ron and finally Chris succumbed to the tungsten thrown by the South Aussies. The tragedy of the night was Ron, again failing against the 'fairer' sex, his first loss coming in a 45 darter! Ma could have knocked over his opponent with her left hand whilst cooking a chick-pea curry I reckon so the Scot has every reason to be ashamed. Again he scored well but refused to play percentage darts, a methodology trumpteted by JK and adopted by all of the EE's except Ron who stubbonly refuses to admit his mistake in throwing the last dart at a d10 (risk of leaving 5, which he did twice in his singles and once in the doubles), d6, or any other double which leaves an odd if halved. No doubt Captain Baldy McTungsten will punish the errant Scotsman by leaving him out of the singles next week. At least in triples and doubles there's someone to force Ronald back onto a good peg! As for Ron's partner in crime, in terms of losing when he should be winning, having failed to pick up anything other than a triple (and that with yours truly involved) in the last two weeks, Ralph, is set to miss the whole shebang next week.

Actually our intrepid leader was kicking himself for choosing tonight to take his singles off but as I pointed out to him, the team he selected on the night SHOULD have won. It ain't his fault we have a couple o players underperforming. Next week will see a stronger showing for sure.

Now of course to the crux and title of this story. The only person to be undefeated on the night, having a win in triples, doubles and singles was your most dedicated author, and capital darts thrower, ME! Admittedly bit of a slow ride in triples n doubles but when I'm scoring repeated 45's and kicking myself to others that would be steady darts. Once again it must be said I did my all for the team, have yet to drop a leg in triples, and STILL the bastard team lost. Oh wells at least beer was drunk, fun was had and darts were thrown. And JK won. THAT'S the main thing!

PG (aka JK) Out.

Keenans Get E-Enders O'er the Line!

2009-05-19T02:40:00.006+10:00

This weekend Warren Tredea played a lone hand with his seven goals including the winning goal and a mark deep in defence upon the siren to get the otherwise useless Port over the line. A similar scenario was played out Monday 18th of May at the South Eastern Tavern.

The nearest toilet was choked up and failed to flush. An apt description for all non-Keenan players of the 'Enders methinks as one will soon see. The night started promising enough with yours truly still without dropping a leg in the triples, 2-0 was the result including a good 48 peg, left by OMK by myself and Ronald getting in on the act with a d4.

The dudd triple of Ralph, Chris and Ant, returing to the fore after a week off, lost 0-2 to leave us all square after the triples. Promptly Ron and John stepped up and Ron scored for show whilst I pegged for dough, pegging both legs, 53 and 4 for a 2-0 victory. Ralph, denied his usual doubles partner in Martin, proved no good with Chris but the Old Man dragged Ant with him for the choccies in the doubles. Ant did peg one of the legs though. I was busy chatting up the (as it turns out) married barmaid so couldn't tell ya the specifics there. All I can say is that once again the Enders turned ahead 3-2 into the singles.

JK played number 1 and after losing to this fat-bottomed jaggy arsed bitch in the first leg its fair to say my back was up. Subsequently a 73 peg and a 28 peg in a 24-darter and the beast was slain! Enders 4-2.

Ant dropped his singles and Ron, despite being a class ahead of his terrible opponent took it all too flippant, did not play percentage darts, ended up on dud numbers and lost both legs in a row 0-2! Much to my, (being the scorer) amusement! :D 4-4.

Ant offered to score but had already scored in the doubles , plus the Old Man loving a man that can add up quick, I scored the second game in a row to see the Old Man uphold the Keenan name with a 2-0 victory including a 58 peg. 5-4

Two matches to play and Chris already on 1-1 with his opponent so all attention turned to the tall, balding, humble man of the Enders. Friar Tuck perhaps we should call him! Anyway I mentioned to the Old Man that Chris loved an audience and was sure to win the night, loud enough of course for Chris' opponent to hear and hopefully put him off. Well whether it worked or no Chris, skillfully guided by OMK and moi (though with 29 both fell....rarely....silent as we let Chris work out on his own just how the hell to dig himself out of the shit) put the winning dart into the d14 after a nice 5 to win the night 6-5! However it was related later by Chris that in fact his first dart was intended for the 1! :)

Ralph went down 1-2 despite being clearly again better than his opponent, a night for choking on the doubles it seems. Two people that didn't choke was yours truly and OMK. Between us we delivered 5 of the fucking 6 matches of the night, JK and OMK in the triples, JK and OMK in seperate doubles, JK and OMK in singles with 5 pegs from 7 legs on the night by JK, in fact I won 6/7 legs on the night! I shall have to remedy that to 6/6 legs next week if I play! (Scheduled to miss out since I was going to Melbourne though opting out of that trip, in theory I shall still sit out but we'll see!)

Anyway the Keenans' influence on the dart team cannot be debated! Till next time,

PG (aka JK) out.

E is for VictorE!

2009-05-12T01:00:00.008+10:00

Tonight, well last night now, the assembled drunkards and supporting ladies gathered at the South Eastern for another home round darts fixture against the aptly titled Young Guns. Young they were, taking em a bit of time to get their shit together in terms of getting the names up on the whiteboard for the triples and organising scorers and paperwork writers. And Guns they were throwing a goodly amount of tons, 85s and 60s. But the exuberance of youth was matched and exceeded by the skill and wisdom of maturity, and duly ahead 2-0 after the triples were we the mighty East Enders! Yours truly has yet to drop a leg in triples including a one-dart no-nonsense 16 peg that had fellow teammates Ron and OMK up and about after a solid set of 60s, 85s and 45s (no score less than) by the PG.

Still, with no man worthy of partnering myself (my kingdom for a Betty!) in the doubles I stood out and took to the paperwork with aplomb, which gives a person the best idea of how the East was won, or in this case lost, for we picked up only one double, 2-1, dropping the others 1-2. Near run affairs for the most part but who'd have thought the magical, mystical match of the odd couple Don and Chris would be the sole double to take line honours? I can tell you that their opponents beat them to a double in all three legs yet somehow the feng shui feng shuied and Don, whom I dubbed peg leg, proved his intestinal fortitude by pegging second and third legs as Chris, who had scored well but couldn't hit a double for love nor money, showed no signs of finishing proceedings. As I remarked to my professional darts coach, aka, Mum, "If Don hadn't pegged 'em Chris sure as shit wouldn't have!" With Ralph and Martin doing their usual in the first triple and I, aided by Dad and Ron, doing my usual in the other, plus D&C's deadly double combination, the 'Enders turned ahead 3-2 into the singles. That is almost all important, only a bunch of chokers or divine intervention allows the side 2-3 down to win. What is by far more important is that the PG was back in the deserved number 1 singles spot. A good victory there can start the ball rolling for the whole side, furthermore I am a monty to beat any tungsten fodder put up to the number 1 spot by the opposition, and as, like a hot cross bun, I rise to the occasion against good players the odds are again high for me to take the choccies against the opposition best, whilst shielding the Ralph's, Martins, Ants and OMKs of the world the pressure of the #1 spot. Plus, in the end, I *love* being number one! More time for drinking when one's work is done!

Anyway the first leg I shot out to a good lead with some merciless attack on the triple twenty, though blondie, a bloke that was clearly YG's best player, went broadside to broadside with HMAS PG. Still reach the double first one should win and win I did though blondie and I both got some rum darts on the approach to doubles and the doubles themselves, pitching into doubles or triples instead of fat numbers and next door beds. 39 and 39 was the darts count, a little above division average (30) but at least we both had equal darts and I was simply the better.

The second leg I increased the scoring even more but somehow blondie got a bloody run on, matching my sixties, scoring tons to my eighty fives and ton-pluses to my tons! He finished off just as I was salivating over my d16, 26 darts to blondies 29. Just below average and blondie had more darts! The importance of the shot!

Well blondie, as winner of the second leg, was first at the bull but with a centre bull I was undisputed leader. Still after a ton start it all went ahoo with thirties and twenty-somethings. A great mix for an orgy but not so for an orgy of tungsten. Anyway just as I straightened up blondie went off the boil and I crawled back before a timely 140 (NOTE: Name in the paper two weeks running!) put me back in the running. Blondie was clearly upset and shanked it all, despite some excellent first dart at triples (triple 10 in second leg, triple 14! in third) to leave doubles he somehow made a grand mess of things this third leg to leave 27. Again a bit of rum luck on both parts but I actually got to a bloody double first whilst blondie was mucking round on 17. Twice I failed at a d6 peg, pitching first dart into six both times and subsequently busting before I decided to aim just outside the outer wire of d6. Then I got that tell-tale half-slip, half-curl off the middle finger that I wish I could consciously recreate which puts the dart into a death spiral every time, straight into the double! Huzzah! The PG wins his first singles 2-1 and opened the floodgates.

Ronald then proceeded to not only jam open the floodgates but blow up the fucking dam as well with a 27 dart first leg (yours truly scoring), then an uncharacteristic loss in an hard fought 30-33 dart affair (YG's 33 darts) before the Scot really got his back up. As mentioned earlier the winner of the second leg throws first at the bull in the decider, but when I called out "Young Guns at the Bull" Ronald, in his Highland impetuousness, had already thrown, hitting the centre bull. After everyone put their two cents in before realising, as always, PG was right, Ronald's dart was recalled, YG's hit just outside the bull and Ronald hit just outside that. Well, as Romans, Russians, English, French and German have all found out through history, there is seldom anything less ferocious on this earth than an angered Scot! 133 95 133 95 23 +2 and it was gameshot in 17 darts! That's not just div 1, that's fucking PDC almost, an 88 average, if he had pegged the 45 in three it would have been 100+ average! Suffice to say, Ron, unbeaten so far in singles, was pleased.

With the games score 5-3, sacrificial lamb Chris losing a gallant 1-2 to YG's third best player, and reaching the double in his final leg first but to no avail, it only remained for one more win to secure the match. This win was delivered by Ralph in a consummate 2-1 victory, followed hot on his heels by ol' Master Peg Leg taking a 2-1 victory, Don playing his third leg at the same time as Ralphy. 7-3 and playing for percentage, OMK shot to 1-0 before hitting the wall and losing his second leg, to the surprise of all, to a female North American Bison masquerading as a darts player. (AKA A huge bitch!) None the less her migration instincts had kicked in during that second leg with a string of 60+ scores and a decent peg to leave the OMK fuming. Duly then did our fearless leader reach his double but then again, uncharacteristically, did Captain Tungsten McBald stumble on the doubles. Still the bison had run out of steam and was raggedly charging at anything that moooooved, leaving herself an abomination of 11 from a promising 56. None the less our Captain seemed to be poised to drop his first game in the singles this season, before yours truly gave the timely advice, "Come on Old Man, it's only for percentage." The influence of that dew drop of darting wisdom upon le Capitaine's next two darts will be widely debated forever and anon by all and sundry, namely myself, Dad, the homebrew and Banjo, but what is fact is that in two darts the Old Man had his double two skewered and his unbeaten singles record intact. An 8-3 win, with no games lost to nil and a game won to nil (missour PG's triples) means its points and percentage for the 'Enders. Speaking of the End, this is it!

Bring on Annie's Angels! Till then, keep the beer cold and the tungsten white hot,
PG Out.

I'mmmmmmm BACK!

2009-05-05T22:30:00.002+10:00

Yeah baby yeah. Have had some trouble getting into blogger but I'm in now. The darts season has begun so be sure from now on for weekly updates on the progress of the old man's East Enders, including the form of yours truly. By the by the first two weeks have seen a 6-5 win and 6-5 loss so it's all square. Though clearly Mad Max have continued their cheating ways. Finally forced to move from div 3 to div 2 the arseholes who have for long lingered a grade to low are not even playing and instead they've recruited A graders who are a div too low. The 'captain' of Mad Max the cheatiest bitch on earth who I took great pleasure in floggin last time I met her in the graded doubles in 07 and before that when playing for the Park Fuck Ups er Rangers, did not even play! Who ever heard of a non-playing captain? Ridiculous! What the hell is the point of that? Anywho we performed admirably in the face of a tonnage of tons and are just getting started. I plan to make the number 1 singles slot a 'house of pain' for all and sundry, and have already gotten a good start on making the stacked number 1 triples a house of pain, dragging bloody martin and ralph across the line by the scruff of their necks in the process. They'll warm up though too so it's sure to be a good season. Carn the East Enders!

The job front oscillates betwixt nothing and nada the most promising job of all things being a sustainability officer for the MG council, rare to see an ad in The Border Watch for a person with a BSc. (or equivalent). After the council fill this postion they will also create a position junior to the sustainability officer so chance for two bites of the cherry. Getting a foot in the door of environmental science would be most valuable.

As for footy well I think I shall hang the boots up on my illustrious 0 game career with the Pies as I only signed up because I believed, incorrectly it seems, that Kalangas were short of numbers. It appears they are not. And when every Tuesday and Thursday Banjo looks up at me with his "Baldy's taken me out. Smacko Lady's taken me out. YOUR turn My One True Master!" orange eyes the temptation to skieve off training and go jogging or cycling with the mutt in the pines is too great. It also means beer in the hand by 5 instead of 8! Makes a difference.

Well that's the blog for this Tuesday, 5 May, 2009. Cheerio!

PG Out.

The Trouble With Twits

2009-03-24T18:29:00.002+11:00

Otherwise known as the Redbacks. This is South Australia's 'first class' cricket side and they think they're problems is related to not playing two spinners at once. The convincing argument is that this pair has only played in 9 sheffield shield games together but oh my god the Redbacks have won 4 of them. A staggering less than %50. Apparently that's good. Perhaps by Adelaide standards. AND THUS WE HIT UPON THE PROBLEM. The problem with the fucking Redbacks is that they are not the SA Redbacks, they are the Adelaide Redbacks with all the negatives which that implies. Until there is an overhaul of staff, players and a major fucking change in mindset the Redbacks will continue their march into mediocrity. Unfortunately as long as they're based in Adelaide I very much doubt any of those changes will take place. Its a petty little town filled with petty little people that haven't the skills or intelligence to get the hell out and go live somewhere worth living. Its like a mini England! Well that's my bit, I've got a phone interview tomorrow so better go check exactly what it is I claim to be!
PG Out

Friday Night Darks

2009-03-06T22:09:00.000+11:00

Friday night is mince night at the Tarps household, has been for years and will be for years to come. Which means the congregated masses turn out in their Friday worst, as opposed to Sunday best; whatever dark, uncherished, old and preferably mince coloured tops as the faithful can find in the depths of their wardrobe. This is of course because the Old Man’s mince, whilst delicious, is also incredibly sloppy. It also goes admirably well with a dark ale, hence the title, though I prefer the old man’s unequalled pale ale for which even Thomas Cooper could not contend with. This is ironic given that it is made from a Coopers pale ale homebrew kit! Friday night has recently also become a time for me to try and recount the innumerable job applications I have sent forth to the wild blue yonder, and to match up each app with the equally numerous emailed rejections. As I only tell the olds about the most promising jobs, they in fact at times remember jobs that I’ve forgotten! Even now I’m harkening to my webmail to see if a job in Bunbury has a corresponding rejection email. I’m fairly sure it has otherwise I wouldn’t have deleted it out of my seek saved applications box. Ahhhh too many boxes. Now the reader has a glimpse of the confusion that is my marathon job hunt! To add contradiction to confusion I recently got bounced for a dialysis tech job that I got an interview for last year. This is despite using the exact same cover letter and resume, updated to include the degree! WTF!? Perhaps they remembered me from last year and realised that an uncaring bastard such as I should not be in any sort of healthcare position whatsoever though I maintain that’s EXACTLY who should be in healthcare. I mean after a week at the Lyoll McEwen little z is already abbreviating and acronyming and otherwise impersonalising the plebes willy nilly. SIGH. Still I’m here all warm and cozy, with a belly full o mince and a glass full (though steadily getting less full) of perfect pale. Things could be worse. Looks like I’ll have to drink to my early retirement. Cheers!
PG Out

JK is for John is the King!

2009-02-18T23:07:00.002+11:00

You know its getting a bit repetitive harping on about my famous darts victories but well.....I'll never get tired of it. Chris and Ron were up tonight and the doubles were split evenly....except for poor Chris proving the kiss of death to whatever combination he was a member of, so Ron, Dad and I each enjoyed 2 sets of first to 3 legs. In the round robin singles however I was invincible, Dad tried to defeat the JK, but he was stricken to the ground, 2 legs to nil. Ron tried to defeat the JK but he was stricken to the ground, 2-0. Chris tried to defeat the JK, paradoxically getting closer then any in terms of getting to a peg, but he was stricken to the ground, 2-0.
Yes the Pool God in his alias as the darts god JK was without peer and took it all 6-0. By a twist of fate Ron and OMK tied on 3 legs apiece so set to a one-on-one contest in earnest, they are still at it as I type! Such a spirited contest for second has seldom been seen:P . But PG rules supreme!
PG Out.

Flat Earth

2009-02-16T23:08:00.002+11:00

It was da Vinci I think who is attributed with the quote, "It is a poor pupil that does not surpass the master". Anyway the flat earth philosophy is a fear that, instead of society progessing with every successive generation, it suddenly regresses.

Now on a parallel note I was musing over how every cover letter I seem to improve upon it a little bit which led me to ponder whether I would ever reach a stage of perfection, where there was nothing left to improve, or whether I would merely think I had reached a perfect stage but in say five years time I would look back on my cover letters and shake my head at how young I was. My essays in highschool for example seemed perfect at the time, they certainly accrued the requisite grades but when I was at uni I would gaze over them and shake my head. Ditto in a few years time over the HD essays I had written in first year, etc.

But today a dialysis tech job appeared, a job for which I received an interview last year but did not get the job, probably because I was on the cusp of finishing my degree. Thus I figured if I used the exact same cover letter again, with relevant updates of outdated statements, I should again get an interview where I presume to fare better.

Loading up my cover letter I expected to be shaking my head at how naive I was but instead it was the opposite: this was better then some of the stuff I had sent off lately as it still had a touch of optimistic exuberance about it that my current letters, whilst formally correct, do not possess. It seems instead of improving I've been flat earthing! Hah! Well at least my eyes are open now!
Avanti!

PG Out

Let Slip the Darts of War

2009-02-11T23:00:00.002+11:00

Well after floggin the old man on Mon I felt sorry for him and let him have a few 501s before I sent him packing in round the clock. Today however we had company in South Easters team mate Chris. Thus in front of company I had to go hard to let all and sundry know who was boss. There was some stirling darts from everyone, 140s, 135s, 125s, tons and 95s flew thick as thieves till the darts blotted out the sun. Well it could also have been night time, but none the less amongst the chaos the PG held his nerve to peg when the crunch was on, taking 4 victories, OMK 3 victories after sending everyone into fits of laughter with his rant after a dart hit 13 instead of 18, cunning old bugger he is, Chris a suprsing 2. With the obligatory desert of round the clock the Old man started walking at a rapid pace but a d8 shot yours truly in front. Then the old man took a leaf out of Alicia Molek's book and begun crapping on constantly while I was trying to hit the bull however I returned fire with the pysch out that "The old man can't hit a bull if he doesn't do it first dart". With his first dart going wide it was champagne time as true to form the next two were in more danger of hitting Banjo then the bull. Just to prove the PG can peg with any dart the bull was hit next throw on the second dart, the first being a perfect sighter. Gameshot and line honours to PG. As it should be. Now to tuck into this cheese, stick o roo, mango chutney late night snack the loser, gallant in defeat, has prepared.

Oh did I mention I did it all whilst wearing the old man's former bulla shirt?
BULLA!
PG Out.

The Old Man Croweth

2009-01-29T18:32:00.009+11:00

As the 'cool' change blew in over Tarpeena, the Old Man decided to do as he often does and water the lawn. Thus began the ritual of connecting the requisite hoses to the requisite outlets of the bore pump, laying the sprinklers strategically to cover the maximum amount of pathway/banjo whilst watering the minimum amount of lawn and opening the requisite ball valves. Unfortunately when the requisite flick of the pump from OFF to ON was made, OMK was greeted with naught but the ominous churning of a pump sucking air, not water. Suffice to say, the Old Man was alarmed.

To those unfamiliar with the functioning of the bore pump, when dry either a valve on the pump has 'let go' ie dried out in the heat, let some air in, and consequently lost the water needed in the pump to keep it primed through an outlet, carelessly left open. Thus for this to happen there needs to be a weak valve or flawed seal, as well as an open outlet.

The second alternative is that the bore has finally gone dry, ie the water table has dropped below the 26 feet that the ancient pump can suck to. This second scenario is of course somewhat the more dire.

So it was that OMK rushed from one outlet to another, sun beating down on the baldest of heads this side of the black stump, hoping to discover one left open, which would allow the first and readily correctible scenario to be possible. "AH HA!" exclaimed OMK as he found the offending outlet behind the lemon tree. "Never shall I open that bull valve again!" Swore the Old Man to merciless Ra, shaking his hand at the fiery orb which, by the second, was rapidly turning his sweaty pate redder then a fresh Port Mac lobster. Then OMK swore some more and set about preparing the requisite equipment for priming the pump.

It was at this time that PG sidled out to aide the Old Man in his efforts, cunningly adorned in an Akubra so that the might of Ra could not harm him. PG would have availed his wisdom and strength sooner but he had recently been battling in the kitchen of Hades, against the terrible wrath of the Nahar Nisha, wife of OMK. The cunning PG had concoted a magical potion nicknamed the Tarpeena Twister as it could suck the very wind out of the Nisha's storms and leave her mollified and willing to cook such delicious feasts that even the fabled Halls of Vahalla could not match.

Bouyed with the reinforcements the Old Man was able to reprime the pump, regaining suction and promptly soaking the Banjo. Triumph! Now the green fields of 10 Edward Street rejoice in the shower from the sprinklers, and cruel Ra is forced to retreat west into the horizon, sinking slowly to the underworld in defeat.

Yet that victory compared little to the one OMK was to have moments later, when PG found his phone full of messages from the Temptress of Melbourne. As PG set about clearning his in and sent boxes piecemeal, whilst joining OMK in the victory toast, the Old Man waved his hand over the phone and lo! the delete messages option appeared. Even rarer then a victory over spiteful Ra, the Old Man had taught PG, that paragon of knowledge, something new.

Of course it did not last long. When composing this tale and wondering aloud "Just where the fuck is the black stump?" the Old Man replied, "West of Bourke." Upon consulting the annals PG discovered that this was, of course, bullshit. And the PG did smile.

PG Out

Who the Hell is Jenny Mccallum?!!!

2008-12-19T00:00:00.002+11:00

This is the problem with facebook. Every now and then someone you have no idea who the hell they are asks to be your friend. Now judging by how many people have "friends (140+)" this probably happens quite frequently on facebook methinks. What doesn't happen frequently is getting a msg in your inbox asking "what's been happening and hey saw your folks the other day...." Now this Jenny person is registered as engaged in her profile so I can happily (or unhappily) rule out crazed sexual stalker. BUT that's about all the info I have! That and they went to tarps primary school but must of then moved to Adelaide judging by high school dates. And can recognise my olds! But then again the two are rather distinctive. Anyway it's rather obvious that this is one of those coves that remember everyone they met which puts me at a distinct disadvantage since I can't even remember what I had for breakfast yesterday. Oh chocolate cake. Yum. Think I'll have some more now.

PG Out.

Gameshot!

2008-12-12T22:00:00.003+11:00

So, for those few people left in Australia that Mum hasn't messaged, my results are in and its unofficial, the degree is finished! Yippee! (It'll be official some time next year when they confirm graduation eligibility. Slackers.)

PG Out

Frustration thy name is PG

2008-12-09T15:59:00.004+11:00

Here I sit twiddling my thumbs, all my applications are done but now I have to wait for the whole 'shortlisting' period. That means that, in short, associate professors in charge of the releant research projects go on christmas break, and the only listing by these coves is done at christmas parties after too much eggnog. Can't even while away applying for other jobs in the meantime as the universities aren't even pretending to consider any more positions and in fact the whole of Melbourne appears to be shutting up shop for christmas. Perhaps I could get a job as an elf? Gah bah and humbug! Plus C-link have set their incompetence meter to max atm, stalling my fucking claim on the basis of a 'computer error' please call back tomorrow. Fuckwits. Maybe if they didn't hire Bombay's 'finest' as IT support the error would be fixed by now. But of course it would help if the error was reported which I found out today had not been done by the call centre cretins when I dropped into the office in person. That's fucking it, if they don't sort this out by tomorrow I'll rail at every goddamn government institute designed to handle complaints in the goddamn city till someone's head rolls. Hmmm tomorrow OCBA should have received my bond refund assuming the landlords posted it Monday.....and that Australia Post delivered it.....and that it was lodged properly upon receipt. We'll fucking see.
PG Out.

Ten Turds out of Ten

2008-12-01T21:07:00.002+11:00

Is my rating of how ten treats its viewers. Not only do they cram more then their quota of ads into shows like NCIS (Do they really think we can't tell the difference between gray-fades the producers put in and articifially introduced grey-fades the fcukwits at ten add in themselves?), House and Life now they've just pulled Supernatural! WTF! Yeah I know its on mid-season break over in the US but you think ten could have showed those last two episodes and thus coincided the Australian break with the US but nooooooooooooooooo. It just disappears without a word not to return presumably till the ratings period resumption. Well booee to that! To the downloads! So now I record House and Life cause of all the bloody ads and am back to downloading Supernatural. Way to retain viewers Ten. Ahh screw em I'm off for a beer.

PG Out

Ahhhhhhhhhhh

2008-11-27T21:23:00.002+11:00

After the hardwork of f/t work and study and Armidale trips and exams it's nice to be done and dusted with the degree. Of course no rest for the wicked, Research Assistant positions are cropping up like mushrooms after an autumn rain, or grasshoppers after a summer's drought. And thus its tappity tap tap on the ol lappy to rejig and refine the CV. Three applications off already, closing 5th, 5th and 8th of Dec with some more closing 10 Dec so looks like I'll be back in ol Melbourne town by christmas, touch wood.

IN the meantime it's dad's beer, the dartboard, banjo and Mum's cooking.....lovely! Pity there's no research positions in Mt Gambier! Anyway you've heard of the summer of George? Well this is the summer of PG! Enjoy it, I know I will!

PG Out.

PGs Premiers!

2008-11-20T12:49:00.002+11:00

Indomitable was the term to describe the PG's performance on D-day at the 'D in wintry conditions more befitting the middle of season rather then the one day in November. Physiology threw everything it had at the PGs but the highly disciplined and well-prepared unit that is the PGs failed to flinch. Captiain-coach JK said he was proud of all his players' application through the whole year and especially their performance come finals time: "Overall, all played well today and not one player cannot hold their head high tonight."

That's all for the season folks! And that's all for my degree! Yeah baby!

PG Out

PGs Romp into Grand Final

2008-11-17T20:23:00.002+11:00

The PGs sent an ominous note to awaiting opponents Physiology this sunny November afternoon, humiliating a Statistics outfit that was just outgunned, outhustled and outclassed across the board.

Coach JK said an easy entrance into the GF is always welcome but the side was not about to let up intensity in preparation for the one week in November that can justify a semester's work, or blow it all away in a 2-hour window. "Unlike Geelong," says JK, "We'll be taking no passengers into the game. And no prisoners in the game."

PG Out.

PGs Cruise Through Qualifying Final

2008-11-17T20:16:00.002+11:00

In beautiful November conditions, the PGs swept past Linear Algebra in a tough but ultimately one-sided affair with the PGs leading at every change.

Coach JK says his side had already switched their focus to preparing for the prelim final.

PG Out

Done and DONE!

2008-11-03T23:38:00.002+11:00

That's the last assignment for the semester, the year and my degree all finished. How very PG that the last assignment would be a first year assignment! Go figure! Packing my bags baby I'm off to revision town. Go Septimus, Go Zipping! Go to bed PG!

PG Out

Suck it Danny Boy!

2008-11-03T05:36:00.003+11:00

That shite of a housemate Dan has taken to having showers at wildly inappropriate times. Last week I was woken up at 1am by someone having a shower and Dan's the only retard to take one that late on any given night, especially a weeknight. This is after being told a couple of weeks ago to stay away from the bathroom, which borders my bedroom, after a reasonable time on a weeknight ie 2230. The boy needs a good bloody slapping. Anyway since the current archaic laws of the land prohibit such thing I've had to revert to more primitive methods. Like removing the shower head before retiring, when everyone else but the Dubibian Dickhead is nestled snug in their beds.

Sure enough not twenty minutes after lights out I heard the squeak of deushbag's door opening (really got to chat to all the housemates about oiling their hinges....you know cooking oil works just as well for this job as any oil) as he made his way into the bathroom even though he should not be there in the firstplace. I however was too busy grinning as I drifted off to sleep to the sound of the telltale squeak of the shower arm being moved into place (man everything squeaks round here. Except the rodents cause I killed em all) and then the sudden silence as dumbkof realised there was no head on that arm he was adjusting. And yes he is such a fool that he'd only notice this AFTER adjusting the arm and not before.

Off slunk scumbag back to his shitty, stinky little room, ne'er to be heard of for the rest of the night. You'd think he'd clean his room instead of having innumerable showers a day. Then he'd only need one instead of pathologically crawling into the bathroom and having one every three hours. Anywho checkmate, Dan, checkmate. Hah.

Hey supercook free now, want me to ring? Thought not. HAR!

PG Out.

Luck of the Irish

2008-10-31T21:32:00.003+11:00

Let's play jeopardy. Here's the Answer: Ferredo. Motlop. Ronin. Petri. And Friends.

The question: Who are: people not selected for All-Australian 2008?

SO WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE B-GRADERS DOING REPRESENTING THEIR COUNTRY IN THE INTERNATIONAL RULES?

Now I understand that just about every Cats player selected for All-Australian has some sort of lifetime ban from International Rules. But those teams bloody well won. Hopefully this mob of misfits can turn it round in the second half but at current it looks like the IR trophy is set to go the way of the Border-Gavaskar and disappear. But in the latter case at least I understand that a large number of greats have retired and it will take a while to rebuild. The selection committee for the IR trophy have no such excuse. I notice a lot of dockers and and NM players are selected perhaps all the other teams are on end-of-season trips whereas the NM club hasn't the cash and the Dockers intended on going somewhere nice but just couldn't commit. Hah.

Anyway at least I saw that new Hilux ad. Hilarious.

PG Out

Shut the f**K up Rosie!

2008-10-31T19:11:00.002+11:00

GOD I Hhhhhate Rosie Beaton. I mean firstly who the hell works on a request show for millenia? You START at super requests then you mooooove on. Instead of squatting there like some immooovable heffa talking shit 5 nights a week. Actually she probably just constantly talks shit 24/7, probably talks in her sleep. We only have the misfortune to hear it 5 nights a week.

And its always the same. Someone requests a song, she plays it then talks about how she watched the band play live, what she was wearing what she got up to blah blah fucking blah. No-one fucking cares. FUCK OFF!

After these exams I'm just gonna have to kill her. I think I'll do it in some poetic fashion such that her own incessant talking causes her death. Then her own failings will be responsible for demise just as it was in.....wait for it....."In the Name of the Rose". HAH HAH HAH HAH!

Time for my own beeza night. To San Remo and Cellarbrations!
Happy Halloween.

PG Out.

DONE! Pt II

2008-10-30T21:44:00.002+11:00

All assessments bar the exam done for PMTH213. Fuck that last assignment was a long one. All assignments have to be in .pdf format which for me means I scan as jpeg, paste all these jpegs into a word doc then print to a driver which converts into a pdf. You can see the pdfs getting bigger as the semester gets longer, from 700KB for Assignment 1 to 2.54 MB for Assignment 6!

Now one online test one assignment for Stat and then its a return ticket to revision town! Population: Shitloads at this time of year. (Revision Town is a holiday town with peak seasons in May-June, October-Nov)

PG Out.

Melbourne Mile

2008-10-30T00:22:00.003+11:00

Anyone want to wager with/sponsor me for the melbourne mile run? It goes up St Kilda rd! I can't say what length my current jogging circuit is as it includes the 3 tiers of the Monash Uni Science Carpark, twice, but when I ran my old 3.5km circuit the other day that was about 15min into a net headwind.

So thats appx a 7.5 minute mile into a partial headwind. But when you jog 3.5km you jog to keep reserves in the tank. Also when I jog I don't go anywhere near my sprint since that's hard on the knees and requires a 2 day recovery where I only have a one-day recovery.

So if I just lit it up, well I'm confident of at least breaking the four-minute barrier. Maybe even three. Ah fuck it I'd have to buy new shoes for that kind of pace. Maybe even shorts. Not worth it. I don't even have cancer. I'm going to bed.

PG Out.

What an Ass!

2008-10-28T22:56:00.003+11:00

It's funny how long one can sometimes labour under a false assumption in spite of the evidence clearly to the contrary. Just look at religious people! Hah! Barrel of laughs.

*warning mathematic content*

So having deduced that eigenvectors of a symmetric matrix are orthogonal, I assumed that a matrix comprised of said eigenvectors was naturally orthogonal. Which is why I got rather confused when my matrix of eigenvectors, B, was not B-having like a orthogonal matrix. Indeed it was violating all properties of being orthogonal, its determinant was not +/-1 its transpose was certainly not its inverse indeed it was being a right c***t.

Backwards and forwards I went checking my eigenvectors and eigenvalues, my arithmetic, over n over, coming up with the same results. Until I read up some more on orthogonal matrices on wikipedia and hit upon the phrase, it may be tempting to assume that a matrix whose columns are orthogonal is a orthogonal matrix. But it isn't. You tool. In fact a matrix comprised of orthogonal columns is completely not special at all and certainly not worth the several hours you spent f*king round with it. Its late. Go to bed.

Okay so maybe I paraphrased a little but you get the picture. Well maybe Anonymous does, probably everyone else is just staring blankly.

However the moral of this story is that just because you think its a duck, if it happens to be mooing, doesn't have feathers and ruminates, well then, even though its in a duck pond, chances are it sure as hell ain't a duck. So get a bigger rifle if you want to make it dinner.

The shorter moral is STOP ASSUMING SHIT. Dad and Mum could especially take that lesson to heart methinks......

PG Out

Dammit

2008-10-27T18:31:00.002+11:00

Missed Oktoberfest. This is largely because it starts med September. WTF? Very un-German. or un-Bavarian. Since the arseholes don't seem to care too much about historical accuracy I'm going to celebrate Oktoberfest from around noon Nov 20! Rock on!

PG Out.

Off the Radar

2008-10-21T18:00:00.002+11:00

Its less than a month till exams so PG is officially putting on the camos, painting the face all a black and maintaining radio silence. It's Operation Study so don't expect to see the PG for the next month. Of course just because you can't see me doesn't mean I'm not there.....watching.....waiting......BOOO! Maw ha ah hah!

PG Out.

Happy Birthday?

2008-10-16T22:08:00.002+11:00

Bloody spent my birthday working like a dog thanks to a series of unfortunate events, and then submitting a damn linear algebra assignment. Gonna rock it out Saturday night though that's for shizzle! Thanks to everyone who sent texts, I see y'all learning last year I arrived back from work at MGT (why couldn't I have worked at MG vroom!.... or for MGMT? Hmmm? Blah!) to find a host of missed calls. You know I reckons I had an assignment due on THAT day as well. What the hell?! Oh well let's hope history repeats and I back the Cup winner in again. Unfortunately Cats did not repeat with a premiership so probably won't get the horsie either. Well toodles!

PG Out.

Done!

2008-10-09T18:59:00.002+11:00

All the assessment tasks for physiology, save the exam, are complete! No more UNE physiology assignments for the semester, year and rest of my life! Hah! I think I'll celebrate by driving 400 kms for a piss up! But for now, TEQUILA!
PG Out.

The Perfect Crime

2008-10-07T20:26:00.002+11:00

So the NCIS ad has 'This killer isn't going to stop at 1' And I was thinking "Well of course he's not going to stop at ONE. They'd NEVER catch him/her if they just stopped at ONE. Who the hell are they Goran from Criminal Intent? Columbo? Noooooo the killer has to at least kill two, preferably the main suspect to avoid the investigators going down the wrong path, or main witness that we never suspected was the REAL killer. Erm. Don't ask how that works.

ANYWAY so I was musing, if the killer stopped at one they'd almost certainly get away. AND if they never killed at all they'd be CERTAIN of not going to be caught. Ah-ha! So I'm going down in history as the world's LEAST prolific serial killer, with a grand total of zero victims. Maw ha ha ha! The perfect crime!

And Homer's got a point. No man should outlive his fictional wizard. I mean Gandalf survived dammit! Poor Dumbledoor. Er Greystash.

*******COHESION ERROR*******

This post contains thought trains logical to the thinker but inconsistent with an outside observer's following. Please adjust

What the hell is Denoso doing on an aircraft carrier?

*********OUT OF CHEESE ERROR********

PG Out. (Of cheese).

Saturday Night in St. Kilda

2008-10-05T13:08:00.002+11:00

Was fucking awesome. Finally found where all the lookers in Melbourne are at. And we only sampled all the bars down Fitzroy St. Next weekend however its sampling the darts cabaret. Looks like I'll be trading Fitzroy St. kisses for Banjo's licks. Hmmmm.

PG Out.

........

2008-09-28T00:32:00.001+10:00

Viva la Vida lyrically from Coldplay seems to sum up the feelings at the moment, though musically Metallica's Lowman's Lyric captures the mood better. Another scotch, some more laments in the key of G on the guitar and then bed.

PG Out.

CARN THE CATTERS!

2008-09-26T23:34:00.002+10:00

Bye Bye Stokesy

2008-09-20T18:00:00.002+10:00

Probably nothing pisses off a coach more then a player who doesn't lift because he's unaware he's down in the first place. Now Chappy Chap looks like a monte for returning and Bomber has given Varcoe, Kelly and Woosher immunity cards (well technically they themselves EARNT those immunity cards by their performances Fri night) there seems to be only one candidate left, Stokes.

His comments on the gfc website do nothing for his cause. Firstly he highlights how important Chapman is for the forward line, talk about digging your own grave! Secondly his comments intimated that Chapman gets others to lift by verbally grabbing them round the scruff of the neck and giving a yank. He also intimated that some in the forward line needed that.

It seems like Stokes is so busy looking at other's flaws he's forgotten to look at himself.

I mean even if Stokes wasn't under performing the fact both him and Chapman are marking small forwards argues that for team balance he's a candidate for omission given that Chap can play midfield and Stokes cannot. Which is something the fella should work on really, building up that tank to give another midfield option.

However just look at the stats. The only other players with less disposals then Stokes were:
Blake, who still had 11 hit outs and is an unquestionable inclusion.
Rook, who booted more fucking goals then Stokes despite playing in defence and is ten times as hard
Lonergan who suffered from the scragging, poor supply and a couple of slip overs. Lonergan ran 110m at one point after a turn-over from his slip over, laid a tackle that resulted in turn-over in Geelong favour for the ball to be run down for a Cats goal. His endevaour could not be questioned last night, as opposed to Stokes. Lonergan is only a chance of omission if Bomber believes that the forward line is too tall. Also, Tom is in his first year and does display some of the first year jitters of a rookie playing finals. But honestly I think dropping Lonergan would MAKE the team unbalanced rather then correct an imbalance.

So both from Dad's perspective, my perspective now the old man has brought it to my attention, and the disposal count Stokes may be the shock exclusion come the Grand Final. I probably wasn't fully convinced until his interview comments which contrast remarkedly from the usual Cat's line of humbleness and perspective. Seems to me Stokes has lost his perspective. One bloke that doesn't lose perspective is Bomber. Look out Stokesy!

One Day More

2008-09-20T00:32:00.002+10:00

One last game left for the Cats 2008 campaign! You fucking ripper! And Travis Varcoe FINALLY did something! In fact multiple somethings going from 4 possessions midway through first half to 18 by game's end. Constantly presenting across half forward he gave the ever-toiling Ablett a consistent option especially in that last term when few from either team had run left. The Dogs tried for 4 quarters, throwing everything at us but we still withstood and still won by 5 goals. Bring on the Grand Final!

Geeeeelooonnng!

Carn Catters!

PG Out

No Comment

2008-09-18T22:31:00.002+10:00

From now on, in issues to do with PG's life, I think I shall answer: No comment when queried.

Because it seems after asking where I'm going to move or what I'm going to do after the degree, etc etc people take this as carte blanche for giving their misinformed, illinformed, or just plain stupid opinions on these subjects. No thankee Killick!

Take renting a flat. "Waaeewaeeewaaaeee Melbourne rental market is tight" is the oft cited warning. Well there's so many fucking flats in the areas I'm looking at it's too much. My notepad is full. Shove that in your pipe and smoke it naysayers!
I'm off to bed big game tomorrow.

PG Out

Ahhhhh the RIA!

2008-09-07T23:05:00.003+10:00

And no I don't mean Radioactive ImmunoAssay. I mean Random Incompetent Assassin. These always show up in spy thrillers, dutifully shooting the RID or Random Irrelevant Dude (or dudette) while the Hero circles round the RIA's six and takes the RIA out. And then goes on vengeance spree more often then not as RID is often a randomly generated loved one.

And yes watching the Bourne Ultimatum.

PG Out.

The Trifecta!

2008-09-07T22:18:00.002+10:00

Today I got to

a: Watch the Catters flog St Kilda at the G!
b: Catch up with Tonybob and Jimbob and Tony'shousepersonbob after the game at the London
c: Be a smart arse on my Statistics forum. See if you read previous post you would realise that I've completed the current assignment. And I've dutifully sprinkled my answers all over the Stats forum to

a: infuriate the lecturer
b: confuse EVERYONE! I've gone in like two weeks from a forum nuisance to a forum Yoda of infinite statistics wisdom! People won't know what to think. Maw ah ha ha ha ha! Ahhh, mortals.

PG Out

Unusual

2008-09-06T23:52:00.002+10:00

So, after finishing a Statistics assignment, determining probabilities and the like, I reward myself with a nice, relaxing.....jog. Actually a moonlit jog through Monash University is just the ticket to shake out the cobwebs, part of my course involving tracking up to the top deck of a multi-layered carpark then, naturally, coming back down.

When I got to the top tonight though what the hell would be the probability of encountering,
a car
a man in a wheel chair
a woman
and
a dog.

What the hell? Why parked at Monash at that hour, and why parked on the very top level? As I jogged past they were probably just as surprised to see a bloke jogging up and down a car park.

Anywho another Saturday spent on assignments and chores. But tomorrow FINALS TIME! Carn the CATTERS!!!

PG Out

OMG

2008-09-04T19:27:00.003+10:00

It's hard to fathom HOW one can fuck up such a seeming lay down misere as Hitman. All you need is a tall, thickset bald dude with a gravely voice running around for 90 minutes, acting like a complete arsehole, killing everyone. So basically Payback with a bald dude.

Well they fucked up on all counts in the casting of 47, using a skinny weaner with an even weanier voice. Honestly we all thought the cockhead playing Anakin in Ep 2,3 was bad casting (which it was). However you cannot seriously fuck up your casting of a lead (or anyone) more then the casting of 47 was fucked up. Think Chernobyl-size fuck up, multiply by infinity, extend into eternity and you still have no idea what I'm talking about.

Worse still, after five minutes all this cockhead had done was weenie his way over two confused, poorly scripted, poorly acted, poorly directed, just overall piss poor scenes WITHOUT KILLING ANYONE! Anyone is a loooooooooong way removed from EVERYONE! Oh and there was also some Scottish git doing his best to be the worst actor in the film, though considering EVERY actor was vying for that dubious distinction it would be a close call. That is if anyone was still watching this film after the first 5 minutes. I certainly fucking wasn't.

I'm not one usually for reviews or partioning scores when it comes to flicks, such things being completely subjective and all, but Hitman scores a solid ten turds out of ten. THAT is a completely objective, intrinsic property of this film.

THE worst movie I have ever laid my eyes on ever. Worse even then Series 7:The Contenders. Oooooo sooo, sooo, sooo much worse. I cannot think how a film could be any worse. Even one of those 60's flicks designed for brainwashing COMPLETE with the drugs and music is outstripped leagues and leagues by this piece of shit. Fuck at least one of those comes with free drugs. Honestly it is just beyond my imagination to come up with a film that could be any more terrible then Hitman, just as it was beyond the fertile imagination of Patrick O'Brian to ever come up with a scene more dramatic then the one-armed Nelson swinging from the quarter-gallery windows of the Captain to board the San Nicolas, and then using her to board the San Josef! Thus truth in many ways will e'er outstrip fiction. And the truth is all involved with the movie Hitman should be 47'ed.
PG Out.

A New Blog

2008-09-04T19:02:00.002+10:00

Oh I have another blog you know. Its not very good. See the links on the right. That link btw has been there for a couple o months. Only little z noticed. And she can barely see above the desk!

Aaaaahhhh

2008-08-25T18:37:00.002+10:00

There's nothing like the soothing sounds of a new Metallica single, released from an upcoming album. Fuck Yeah!

PG Out.

Its a repeat!

2008-08-17T17:01:00.002+10:00

So the cats played the roos not much more then two months ago ( I was there!) and yet we meet again. And it seems we may meet them again two weeks after that in the first qualifying......just like we did last year. Going on the slipping form of bullies and hawkers we may even meet em again the grand final. Geelong will have to set a record surely for the first side to defeat the same fucking team 4 times in the one season, particularly so for doing it 4 times in 3 months! Certainly if the roos finish 4 and get past the semis this time round they won't have to journey interstate to play 2nd place team. Instead it will be a comfy game at the G. Hawkers better watch it!

PG Out.

My Saturday

2008-08-10T16:53:00.007+10:00

What did I do Saturday? Well it was a late start due to having to come back on the Glen Waverley train Saturday erm morning after watching the Cats flog Dees at Tonykins place. This meant already I was set for a longer walk then usual but getting off one stop early at Jordanville instead of Mt Waverley meant I wasn't home till 2am and not in bed till 3 or 4. Thus the sun was riding high when I rose later Saturday afternoon. Whether that actually makes a late or early start I can't quite figure.

Anywho the day was spent listening to the footy and the eve working on maths assignment with a scotch or two and a column heater to keep the winter chill at bay. How very boring. BUT with the job starting Mon need to get the study done whenever an opportunity arises. None the less a sedate Sat night for sure.

As opposed to my rapscallion brothers, brawling into the wee small hours. Having fun without me the bastards! And I'M supposed to be the reckless one! In fact if we look at the rap sheet, schoolboy tussles aside, there are no documented incidents of PG the Peaceful being involved in any altercations whatsoever.
Meanwhile Jimbob has a long history of getting into pub fights, Maoris in Canberra or Meth Heads in Melbourne it makes little difference to the Terrier from Tarpeena, who takes all comers. Perhaps he should also take boxing lessons.

And its just not a Tony night out that doesn't end up with the fuzz showing in one capacity or another.

Even stately Billbo baggins copped a baggin from his beloved recently due to a night of excess leaving him in the doghouse and in need of hair-of-the-dog.

Daddyo is also reknown for finishing many a dart night with his head on the porcelain telephone to Allah. Nuts, bugs, dogs and pies often cop the blame but never the copius cooperus that he consumes on the night!

Yup. Let's face it. When it comes to the Keenan boys I'm the quiet, responsible, well-behaved one especially since the move to Melbourne. Sedately studying between occasional sips of the scotch thats me. A role model for the ages. A voice of reason. A White Knight.

Peaceful PG Out.

F#king Americans

2008-08-07T23:39:00.002+10:00

Isn't it nice to see Yanks protesting in Tiananmen Square while their own government holds thousands indefinitely in concentration camps, complete with torture. And that's just Guantanamo, the darker dealings of Americans in Afghanistan and Iraq remain obscured. No wonder the whole world hates em.

POPGO

Wolf Who?

2008-08-07T21:19:00.002+10:00

Oh breaking news Wolfmother are changing their lineup. After so many successful albums. Erm. One. Who fucking cares? Not exactly on the same scale as when Crowded House called it quits is it? Fucking less fuss was made about Motor Ace finishing and they had three albums. Wanker journalists. Wanker band. One trick ponies.

PG Out.

I'm not the Music Man

2008-08-07T19:19:00.002+10:00

I've been to a couple of live acts this year and whilst they were enjoyable I've come to reflect that they weren't nearly as enjoyable as a footy match. (Biased cause Geelong keeps a winning but as Tony, Jo and Jim found out even when watching two hopeless teams like Hawthorn v St Kilda I can get a little worked up. :P I lurve the whole competition thing.)

Overall it just ain't worth the deniro, unless it was a case of you weren't doing anything else and were in the mood to go out. But as for going out specifically to see a band, meh.

PG Out.

The Slaughter.....List

2008-08-06T00:05:00.002+10:00

Ere I retire I figured I'd introduce you all to the concept of my slaughter list. Its a list of songs that I can competently slaughter on my geeetar.

Knocking on Heaven's Door - Bobby Dylan.
These Days - Powderfinger.
(Except I can't hear the acoustic part during the solo so I have no idea of the strumming pattern of the chords. So I pretend there is no solo. :P I should become an Alex Lloyd fan then I wouldn't have that problem. I could also just learn one of his songs and then I would know em all. Hmmm. )
Skinny Love - Bon Iver.
Spanish Romance Part 1. - Misc Traditional. (They've written a lot of songs. Not a real fan though.)

Songs I'm really good at:
Mary had a little lamb - Mary Moir, PG Version.
The Good the Bad and the Ugly Theme, Part 1.

Perhaps I should release an album?

PG to bed! And Out.

Armidale Adventures

2008-08-04T17:04:00.005+10:00

Breaking News
beijingticketing.com is a fraud. As web frauds go they've put a bit o effort into it I'll give them that. In fact the fucking website is easier to navigate then afl.com. Perhaps the afl could hire the webmasters.

In breaking PG News:

I got a job. A big black shiny job. Ahhhh Knowesly. Anyway its a lab tech thang and best of all its 2km away, being just the other side of Monash. My kind of commute. Start Mon 11. Of course thanks to the silly wanker lecturer who has made the res schools 21-24 August this means as usual my Armidale excursion is another unique experience. This time its a flight to Sydney the Wed evening before my res school, calculated to be well after knock off....of a job I haven't even started. THEN its a car (need a car in Armidale anyway) the nice, gentle 500km trip from Syd to Armidale Wed night. Change from a 1600+ km drive from Melbourne I suppose. Normal accomodation this time round with bed and all and walls and the like. EXCEPT reception will be closed when I get there so thats going to be interesting. Perhaps I'll sleep in my car then have a shower when reception opens. Perhaps I'll go to ITD and spend the night kicking the shit out of all the Macs. Who Knows?

Good thing for me I have such a fantastic sense of humour/adventure that I just find it super amazing in what will be 3 residential schools I've yet to do the normal fly, stay in accomodation, fly back routine.

First one I stayed in normal accomodation but drove from Melbourne...the day after Geelong defeated the Pies in the prelim. Second one I did the normal flight but stayed, as you would all recall, in a fucking tent. This time is a hybrid of the two with flights and driving and semi-normal accomodation. Good thing I get my degree this year otherwise who knows how I would have gotten to Armidale if I had another res school next year. Probably hang glide in after sailing up the coast or some such.

Actually.....I will need to show up one more time next year for the graduation ceremony, touch wood. In theory though having parents in tow should make the journey more normal. Then again these are the same parents that managed to get lost on the 200m walk from the train station to Tony's place. Same parents that decided a trip to Darwin in a car with no air conditioner and nothing but corned beef rolls to eat and a single Elton John tape to listen to was a good way to celebrate Dad's 50th. In fact thats a Dad who decided the best use of 10 pounds was a trip to the other side of the world. And a Mum who decided the best pick on the island was a toothless, hairless, drunken pommy maniac......
With a pedigree like that no wonder I always end up in Armidale in the strangest fashion. And I'll be bringing them along for graduation?!!! That could be the strangest yet. BUT THERE WILL BE NO CORNED BEEF ROLLS!!!! :D

PG Out.

I hear ya Dennis.

2008-08-03T16:11:00.003+10:00

First of all GO CATTERS! It was a purrrrrrfect game and the best thing about TD is that, during the breaks, one can walk round from one end to the other. From Coventry to Lockett and back or as it were on the night the Stokes end up one side and the Lonergan end up the other. Thus I was always behind Geelong's goals! A good thing too cause there was many of them.

NOW everytime I watch a Cometti commentated game I wince at just how obtuse his co-commentators are. OK he always seems to wind up with the appropiately named Ox (thick as a fucking Mallee bull for sure) making it even worse.

When observering the new player for Port, Farmer, Dennis asked Ox "Where does he come from?" "Could it be?"
The implied joke was does Farmer come from a farm? He actually comes from Craigeburn where there are a number of farms hence the set up. Ox the fuckwit misinterpretated it to a query as to whether Farmer came from the WAFL. Dickhead.

Anyway I got it Dennis.

PG Out.

The Slaughterhouse Rd 18

2008-07-31T20:06:00.001+10:00

My forum is denying my post due to a 1000 char limit even though Word tells me the char count is clearly below 1000. Its 999.

Anywho this is better for reading larger posts anyway.

So this is a strange one. Dasher is back and set for a big one but staple all season Rhys Shaw is out. I've got Enright cause I think with the loose Richmond forward line Corey E will have a field day. And in the first half of the week I mobilised a lot of points to prepare for drafting Ablett back in, but looks like he's out for another week. And since I HAVE to drop Fisher cause he's shit and this is my last transfer I have to leave Mr Clangers (Luke Hodge) in for another round. He should bounce back.

SO with like a billion transfer points and a forward line needing a player I've got everyone's fantasy forward: Jonathan Brown. NM have a good midfield but it will pop out of their forward line like a cork with all the talls if they don't get the mark, leading hopefully to a ton of JB goals from the rebound as well as normal centre supply. It's going to be a strange round with all these strangers in my team, 3 of which of course are present due to injuries. THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE ROLLS ON!

Guitar Zero

2008-07-30T21:13:00.003+10:00

After a month of thought I figured it'd be actually more effort to get rid of the guitar then play it. Theoretically anyway, never actually tried to get rid of the thing (for some money), it was too much effort. Hah. QED.

PG Out.

Comment Fuck Ya!

2008-07-30T12:52:00.002+10:00

Hey! Christian Bale!
Richmond Footy Club!
Umpiring!
War in Afghanistan!
Alcopops!
Women!
Men!
Carbon Emissions!
Indigenous Welfare!
Brittany Fucking Spears!
Exclamation Marks!
Gabbo!
Heh. That outta keep those S.O.Bs happy.

PG Out!

Flight of the Fuckwits

2008-07-29T14:45:00.002+10:00

Why do people think flight of the conchords are funny? They're just hairy, stupid, new zealanders. Their songs, while smirk worthy on first listen are pure annoyance second time round and third time changing stations is a must. It's business time yeah whoa hey man I want some muesli whoa yeah real fucking funny arsehole.

Anyway back to the study.

PG Out.

The New Semester has Started

2008-07-28T18:13:00.003+10:00

You wouldn't know it judging by the online links to my courses though. I still have no unit material for my physiology subject. Okay its a surgery/animal handling subject so not exactly much theory and mostly practical. But I don't even know when the res schools are being held! An(other) email to the lecturer is called for.

Anyway I'm going to celebrate the new semester by (not) drinking! Well not drinking more then an obligate glass of amber or red with dinner. Till like Friday meeting with a mate at his place for drinky poos. Dude's got like a backlog of spirits and not the cocktail knowledge or skill to convert these into alcoholic goodness. PG has the cocktail knowledge and skill but not the spirits. Dude's missus works arvo shift on this particular Friday. Its a recipe for success!

Anyway the whole point of the Week of Few Drinks is that I'm much less given to sleeping in when I retire to bed sober(ish). It also means right up to the retiring I'm capable of studying, doing assignments etc. Thus this extra time will be used to maneouver myself into a position where I shoot ahead of the deadlines. Actually this is pretty much what I did last semester anyway except that the extra time was taken up with research projects. No research in linear algebra and maths! Har!

Anyway time to fetch something fresh for dinner since I forgot to defrost my rabbito this morning.

PG Out

FYIF!

2008-07-25T12:39:00.001+10:00

Fuck Yeah Its Friday!

'Carn the Catters!!!!

ROAR!!!

Jack Bauer Never had it THIS Bad

2008-07-22T12:50:00.005+10:00

All Jacky boy was ever charged with was saving all of America and occasionally the wider world on a semi-regular basis. AND he had a luxurious 24 hours to do it in.

*I* on the other hand have a measly month basically to start some sort of volunteer work to avoid the ignominy of 'working for the dole'. I certainly don't wont to end up mowing lawns or painting walls while supervised by such geniuses as the groundskeeper for Tarpeena Primary or Mum's favourite person in the whole wide world: Vic Smith.

Now I've contacted those slackers at St John's but mum's the word after almost a week. I'll ring again today in the later afternoon methinks as its all answering machine during business hours.

MEANWHILE I've been scanning SEEK volunteers for opportunities within cooee. And this gives you the kind of idea of what I'm up against here.

MIND: working with the mentally ill.
I *hate* the mentally ill. Actually this is probably the least onerous as technically the mentally ill can be considered to be suffering from physical diseases no different to someone with for example kidney failure. Consider it cerebral cortex failure instead. BUT its in Dandenong/Cardinia area and like I'm going to travel to volunteer!

Do Gooders Inc: mentoring youth.
FIRSTLY I'm hardly a role model except to how to be a derro on a student's budget and
SECONDLY I *hate* youth. Especially 'disadvantaged' youth.

Radiohead Fanclub: mentally disabled
I REALLY hate retards. Bad enough I have to live with one (Alex). They're like big, fat, ugly,
'disadvantaged' youth.

Splish n Splash: Hydrotherapy Pool
Wrinkly old people in swim wear. No thankee Killick! And I'm not really that much of a fan of pools n the like. I prefer to get wet with water from above then below.

Dammit perhaps I can trade with Jack, this year HE can tackle this cornucopia of community work and *I* can go around punching people in the trachea. And occasionally getting punched in the trachea. Hmmmmm.

PG Out

Friday Night on Edward Street

2008-07-13T01:01:00.003+10:00

T’was about five months before Christmas, and getting rather cool,

So that PG had settled down to watch the football;

The dishes were placed in the wash rack with care,

The remnants of a feast upon the parent’s fine fare;

The Banjo was nestled all snug in his bed,

While visions of roos danced in his head;

And with port in its glass and computer on lap;

I had just settled down for a long winter’s nightcap,

When out on the driveway there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.

Away to the hall I flew like a kite,

Tore open the door and threw on the light.

The globe on the breast of the lawn at night,

Gave the lustre of twilight to the objects on my right,

When what did my wondering eyes should greet,

But a four wheel drive and six legs of goat meat,

With a right hard driver, so tall and jolly,

I knew in a moment it must be old Holly.

He was dressed half in denim, his car covered in mud,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and blood;

A bundle of game he had flung on his back,

And he looked just like a peddler opening his pack.

Four legs in a bag all ready to freeze,

Yet two more with fur, from the thigh to the knees.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

Old Holly got in his car and away he drove!

The two legs were as young as a right plump elf

And I laughed when I saw them, in spite of myself;

For with Dad in Melbourne and Jim moving Tony,

The job of skinning fell to yours truly,

A drink of my glass and a few thoughts in my head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

I spoke many a word then eventually went to my work,

And sliced along the bone, then pulled with a jerk,

Before the last tug I gave a short whistle,

And the skin it flew like the down of a thistle.

Now the meat, long refrigerated, this poem long done,

And I must admit the experience was fun,

But I have to exclaim, ere I turn off the light,

“MERRY SUNDAY TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!”

PG Out.

My Big Mouth

2008-07-10T00:35:00.004+10:00

If a man did sober everything he said he would do when drunk, he would soon learn to keep his big mouth shut. - Some Drunk

Well bouyed by my part in the East Enders' victory Monday I boasted to Don that I would pick up a rules book from him via riding out to his place and back, Banjo in tow. And yes at the time I was rather 'happy'.

Well coralled by my mouth and my pride I duly saddled up today (well yesterday now the clock has ticked past the midnight) on the old man's street bike, intrepid Kelpie by my side and off I cycled to Windy Wet Wepar. (For those not in the know this is a 20km round trip at least). And in the last few kilometres which are of course unsheltered Wepar earnt its name by weeping down from the heavens until myself, bike and Banjo were thoroughly soaked. Though I was given a change of clothes, some hot food and a most welcome hot tea by Liz, Don's better half, I was also given a sound flogging in darts 4-1 by Don, Liz's worser half. Oh the indignity! And then a one eared one eyebrow raised kelpie wondering where the hell I had been for the last hour and a half! At least I had the satisfaction of running all Banjo's enthusiasm out of him though I dare say ten minutes after we got home he would have been ready for another 20km ride the mad bugger.

On the upside my practice this evening produced some stellar darts just in time for Kingjim's arrival tomorrow. Well time for some sleep.

PG, from the lappy, Out.

GAJ

2008-07-04T22:23:00.003+10:00

Call me Jeff (another great JK) but I knew Scarlett was carrying an injury well before he took his respite for his troublesome hammy that may possibly be back-related.

And I'm sure Gary Ablett Junior is sporting some leg or foot related injury. I haven't seen a long kick especially on the right from the lad for at least the last five rounds. At the height of his powers Gazza can strike 50+ on either foot but we haven't seen much of that raking firepower in a team studded with prodigious kicks.

Now a lot of his possessions being in and under and his natural team attitude is going to reduce the number of long kicks. Still he looks almost hesitant to unleash or even take more then a 35-40 kick.
My theory is that like Dean Cox Gazza has some injury that is not directly aggravated by the normal play of football but is by the extra strain a kick places on the body. Of course if this is Ablett wounded, what the fuck will he do when he's right?

PG Out

Woops!

2008-07-04T21:59:00.004+10:00

So the foundation for 'they're not retards, they just have drastically reduced cognitive function and motor skills....much like a climatologist'

or

'they're not retards, they just have drastically reduced cognitive function and motor skills....much like a collingwood supporter'

wants to show that some retard in a chair is not really a retard, they're just another radiohead fan. Obviously the people didn't realise that in order to be a radiohead fan you'd HAVE to be fucking retarded. Anyone with average IQ quickly realises they're a bunch of whingy pommy fucks with little respect for their fans (I suppose that's understandable given the fact the fans are all retards) that produce the same insipid shite over and over and over and over and over. Much like the English cricket team. Honestly EMI Radiohead: Best Of ? Some exec has a sense of humour.

An interesting note was that even a troupe of travelling retards on the way to the Cats/Richmond game a few months back were taking the piss out of one of their crew for supporting who?

No not Collingwood,
No not Richmond,
No not even Melbourne.

The team it's fair to say I hate the most of all

SKFC or as it is often known Soft Kock Football Club.

When even a bunch of retards are taking the piss you gotta say St Kilda, you're doing something wrong!

Well back to watching the Cats belt the stuffing out of the Crows! Halftime atm so I'll nick of for a beer run to the fridge. Gotta consume all my consumables before heading to tarps after all!
PG Out

What was that noise?

2008-07-02T17:55:00.004+10:00

That was me. Trying really hard to give a crap about SoO What III. Sorry. Tried me hardest. But nut. Can't give a crap.

PG Out

Hah

2008-07-02T10:39:00.000+10:00

Tax return submitted. Booyah!

Tibet: Time for Some Home Truths

2008-07-02T07:50:00.011+10:00

Well looks like my week of holiday slackery is over and its back to study-style hours. Since the only course material I have at hand is my Linear Algebra notes suffice to say I'm gonna be powering through that bitch.

Anyway amongst my early morning coffee thoughts was that Tibet is pretty much the country equivalent of my housemate The Fat One. No not Ajuna Ranatunga though he musta went to pretty much the same school of conflict resolution: Alex. And Tibet must have also attended that school.

Now I'm not going to get into sketchy history arguments over who owns what. I'm just going to provide the following analogy.

Alright let us say that one lives in a sharehouse and one of the housemates decides another is not pulling their weight. Right or wrong, let us now put all ourselves in the position of the housemate who is allegedly not pulling their weight.

Suddenly your fellow housemate comes running up to you and, instead of attempting to explain things logically, possibly with the presence of a mediator they immediately start TELLING you that you are NOT pulling your weight. The housemate now DEMANDS that you begin pulling your weight. Now you're not going to for a second bother analysing your behaviour to see if the antagonist has any merit to their argument. You're immediately going to take a rigid stance against, its human nature for many. Fuck I know I would.

Thus dissatisfied with your response the first housemate then runs around trying to drum up support from all the other housemates, spewing lies propaganda and righteous bullshit in the process. Now you're REALLY not going to cave.

So then they travel the fucking neighbourhood releasing fliers, recruiting ignorant fuckwits from Hollywood who should just stick to the acting tiger, until you can't even log on to the net without finding a gagillion blogs from misinformed individuals about how you should be pulling your own weight.

Not helpful is it?

And if the housemate is 2 foot tall and you're 20 ft tall you may also be tempted to punch the other housemate in the face next time you see em. Which I understand is pretty much the reaction most patriotic Chinese feel when confronted with a Tibetan.

Hell I couldn't give a shit about this Tibet-China thang and its STILL the reaction I get whenever I hear some namby pamby Tibetan soundbyte come over the radio. Then again its the reaction I feel whenever I hear the flowery tones of that fuckwit Rudd, or the crapping on of that Greens leader who looks like Pete Rowsthorn, or any artist on JJJ when asked 'how did you create your album/song' or hip hop artists etc. But I digress.

The point is even though in this practical example Dan doesn't fucking pull his weight its Alex who I ended up wanting to (you guessed it) punch in the face. Make no mistake Dan still pisses me off too. But I don't tramp and traipse about the house trying to drum up support to get him to stop having showers whenever I want to use the bathroom dammit. Nor for that matter do I try and recruit all the housemates into a 'Let's Punch Alex in the Face' coalition. (Obviously I'd never stand any chance in Survivor.) The only time I had a genuine, non personal issue with Danny boy I attempted to handle it using logical, reasonable discussion in the presence of an albeit improvised mediator. Yeah so I ended up wanting to punch Dan in the face. But at least I TRIED to handle the damn thing properly. And, to my credit, as of today, I haven't punched any of my housemates in the face in the 8 months I've lived here.

Porting this back to Tibet, whatever merits their stance may or may not have, any objective, logical observer must reach the conclusion that their current methods of negotiation, bargaining and conflict resolution would leave poor John Nash turning in his grave. Were he dead. Which he is not. But I'm tipping he will be long before Tibetans ever stop their fucking whinging.

Well, back to the study.
PG Out.

Give Me My Money Back

2008-07-01T13:00:00.002+10:00

Give me my money back
Give me my money back
Give me my money back
You bitch.

I reckon that's the mantra of the majority of Australians today the first day of the new financial year judging by the traffic load on the ATO website. I shall have to defer downloading e-tax till later tonight it seems.

Well. Ooroo.

PG Out