When is ‘ridiculous’ an understatement?
When you wake up and find that Mr Sheen is now running the country…
But in all seriousness, this recent election is once again proof positive that Australians do not vote in a government, they merely vote out one that they’ve tired of.
And why is that? Well, in the case of John Howard, our former Prime Minister, it’s mainly because nobody likes hiring someone who isn’t going to finish the job… or worse, hand over the reigns to their underqualified and unpopular understudy. Read the rest of this entry »
Sydney FC vs LA Galaxy – What does the word ‘friendly’ mean?
It’s another night to raise the question of what is wrong with sporting professionals in this world.
The LA Galaxy (football team from America’s Major League Soccer) are in town with their marquee signing, David Beckham, for an exhibition match with Sydney FC.
And as the A-League has been advertising this season… 90 minutes, 90 emotions.
But boy, didn’t we run the gamut. Read the rest of this entry »
The soundtrack to my life… (Disc 2)
My life seems to be defined by a number of things, but like so many other people, there are songs that help us remember times, events and people.
The previous ‘Soundtrack…’ post finished off with the end of my first year of university, the end of innocence and the start of a period of self discovery.
And why is that? Well, it all had to do with a redhead… Read the rest of this entry »
Comment moderation blues…
Every so often people will post comments on this blog for something that I’ve posted.
Sometimes it’s funny, such as Yvette’s ‘Internet Police’ comment to the ‘Weapon toting Leprechaun‘.
Sometimes it’s a nice tip of the hat, such as Hitesha’s comment about my ‘Crossroads‘ post… even nicer since it’s come from a complete stranger from afar.
And of course, there’s the mountain of spam, automatically condemned to digital purgatory.
But then you get those who feel that they have to post comments that area akin to a waste of time, words, energy and oxygen. Thankfully, my blog has been one where, so far, I’ve not had to censor myself or any of the comments people have posted.
That is… until today… Read the rest of this entry »
A Team of Champions is not a Champion Team.
England have failed to qualify for Euro 2008… and this is as it should be. Their smug expectation to qualify simply because they are ‘England’ is as appalling as Alvaro Recoba’s comment about Uruguay having a divine right to go to the world cup.
Sorry mate, but all you had a divine right to was a trip back home in Economy Class.
But the best comments have come from my mate Ashley, who has kindly given permission for me to repost his comments on England’s pitiful performance and why they’re going to have a future of continued underwhelming performances.
Sport doesn’t build character… it reveals it.
Tonight I saw something that always makes me sick, as a player and as a referee.
Violence.
Players with delusions of adequacy lashing out because they lack either the physical skill or mental toughness to weather the slings and arrows of competitive sport. People that think that you need to throw punches in order to ‘defend yourself’.
Neanderthals. Knuckle draggers. Shaved apes.
But sadly, this mentality is not limited to the sporting arena. Australia is full of people whose lives are built on base level behaviour. The rule of the mob. The lowest common denominator.
So… what can be done about it? Read the rest of this entry »
Who’s Californicating who?
As anyone that reads this blog will know, I’m a fan of Californication.
What you may not know, is that I’m also a fan of the band, Red Hot Chili Peppers.
What’s one got to do with the other? Well, the first album that they recorded after the return of their prodigy guitarist, John Frusciante, was also called Californication. The title track on said album was also released as a single… with a pretty cool CGI film clip to go with it.
And it seems that the boys in RHCP are a little ticked that someone else used ‘Californication’… so much so that they’ve unleashed that unholiest of hell-spawn… the lawyers. Read the rest of this entry »
A Southern Odyssey: Tasmania Trip (Day 6) – How long did it take to send a message?
The exhaustion of having driven so much and slept so little due to this throat infection finally has finally hit, giving me a full nights sleep for the first time this trip… so much so that we sleep in almost past check out…
…much to the ire of the cleaning staff.
As I’m getting myself together, breakfast and clothes packed, I notice that my phone has died. What began last night as a full battery has drained to the point of needing a charge and the phone being told what the date and time is. Nokia have truly outdone themselves packing so many features into a phone that the batteries can no longer survive more than a day. Since we’re getting the hurry up from the cleaner, the phone only gets a quick charge. It’s just enough for me to get a text message.
It’s from one of my closest friends, Robyn… her father has just passed away. Read the rest of this entry »
A Southern Odyssey: Tasmania Trip (Day 5) – March of the Penguins
There are many things about traveling abroad, whether it be domestically or internationally, that get to me.
Not sleeping in my own bed has to top that list.
But what it also means, is that after a time, I grow increasingly keen to return home. When I went to New Zealand over the Easter Holiday a few years back, the best part of the trip was coming home.
And this trip is turning out just the same… but more so that I can simply get a decent breakfast. Which is why today, we’re not going out for an overpriced cafe breakfast, but instead are having plain and simple muesli in the comfort of our soon to be vacated cabin.
Today, we heard north. Read the rest of this entry »
A Southern Odyssey: Tasmania Trip (Day 4) – Ordinary People in an Extraordinary Time.
Remembrance Day at Port Arthur Historical Site.
We began today with the well established tradition of breakfast being overpriced and generally a let down… it seems that ambience and pretentious arty-farty surroundings justify paying exorbitantly high prices for undersized meals. Of course, it helps when your waiter is 6′4″, tattooed and wearing arm muscles bigger than my thighs.
Read the rest of this entry »
