Bad News

I just found out that my Dad has Prostate Cancer.
I did tear up, and ultimatly cry when I had time to think about it last night.

No cancer is good, but aparently my Dads version is on the good end of bad.

But I still want him to live forever, he's my Dad.

Told himI loved him when he told me though. I know he knows that but I always think I should tell him more.
And Mum too.

So I love you Mum and Dad.

Country Musing

Once more in to the breach my friends. But this is the breach of country (sort of) Australia.
Guess where I am?
Can't, well it's Tanunda, or at least close enough that you can see it from where I am. This place is less than an hour and a half’s drive from Adelaide. And I think I passed about 10 wineries on my way here, and this is just the start of the Barossa.But not drinking wine (like me) is no hassle when the views are as good as this. The trees look as though a fire has gone through, but it hasn't, at least not this year.

There is a quiet peace that I had to feel.

Below was the view from where I contemplated.
I spent a few minutes sitting down and thinking about stuff.
In that time I heard the buzzing of flies (later I heard bees, but strangely could not see them) the warbling of magpies, the caw of crows and even the laugh of a kookaburra.

My bollock filter was very quickly cleansed.

I decided that when I retire, in about 30 odd years or so, I want to buy a hectare block of land and grow vegies and cook pickle and chutney. Just enjoy the out doors in a rural setting. I think this is how I could while away hours, days and years.

I spotted two skips, but not before they spotted me. I caught my first glimpse as they were boinging away. This happened twice more before I decided to get sneaky and go to where I though they might be headed.

Low and behold, one of them boinged into my field of vision. It spotted me instantly, and decided to have a gander at me too, before casually boinging away.

I think the boinging is majestic and don't care what the rest of you think.

Well this is beautiful, but can you guess whether, in the middle of the worst drought in records, vine growers irrigate. Beautiful, but not the best for the blue planet. And can you believe that the last two shots were taken from the same spot. One shows rich fertile soil, the other shown a rocky wilderness that farmers get no income from.
Both beautiful, but give me the rocky wilderness any day.

So now I am back in town slowly filling my bollock filter again. Hopefully I have the large model installed, and can keep the calm my little sojourn gave me.

Country Meanderings

Once more in to the breach my friends. But this is the breach of country (sort of) Australia.
Guess where I am?
Can't, well it's Tanunda, or at least close enough that you can see it from where I am. This place is less than an hour and a half’s drive from Adelaide. And I think I passed about 10 wineries on my way here, and this is just the start of the Barossa.
But not drinking wine (like me) is no hassle when the views are as good as this. The trees look as though a fire has gone through, but it hasn't, at least not this year.
There is a quiet peace that I had to feel.

Below was the view from where I contemplated.

I spent a few minutes sitting down and thinking about stuff.

In that time I heard the buzzing of flies (later I heard bees, but strangely could not see them) the warbling of magpies, the caw of crows and even the laugh of a kookaburra.

My bollock filter was very quickly cleansed.

I decided that when I retire, in about 30 odd years or so, I want to buy a hectare block of land and grow vegies and cook pickle and chutney. Just enjoy the out doors in a rural setting. I think this is how I could while away hours, days and years.

I spotted two skips, but not before they spotted me. I caught my first glimpse as they were boinging away. This happened twice more before I decided to get sneaky and go to where I though they might be headed. Low and behold, one of them boinged into my field of vision. It spotted me instantly, and decided to have a gander at me too, before casually boinging away.

I think the boinging is majestic and don't care what the rest of you think.

Well this is beautiful, but can you guess whether, in the middle of the worst drought in records, vine growers irrigate. Beautiful, but not the best for the blue planet.

And can you believe that the last two shots were taken from the same spot. One shows rich fertile soil, the other shown a rocky wilderness where farmers get no income from.

Both beautiful, but give me the rocky wilderness any day.

So now I am back in town slowly filling my bollock filter again. Hopefully I have the large model installed, and can keep the calm my little sojourn gave me.

A Good Album.

Ok so not having a computer at home has killed the weekly reviews, but none the less music is still my companion.

Today I have been stuck at my desk all morning and I have been working and procrastinating in equal amounts.
Through it all I have had the accompanyment of one Mr Thom Yorke, the lead singer of Radiohead.
His solo album called "The Eraser" is now on its fourth rotation through the CD player in my computer.

From all I have heard and read and seen about Mr Yorke, he seems to be the dictonary definition of "tosser", but his music is just what I need. Melodic and soulful, with a hint of weird.
It is very similar in styling to the Radiohead album "Hail To The Theif", and his voice is just magnificent.

It will still be playing this afternoon, that is how not tired of this album I will be.

Nap Monster Attack

Got home last night and felt tierd, well I suppose the correct word to describe it was crap, I was feeling crap.

I made myself a delightful dinner of sausages and beans with cheese. (Quite tasty if a bit country hick)

Still the crapness remained.
So to combat it I lay on my lounge room floor with a pillow over my face and, luckily for me, Alpha decided to plonk with-in scratching distance, so scratching the cat I fell asleep.

Or at least I thought I did.

I "woke up" half an hour later with a very sore arm, after having most of my body weight resting on it, (That is a lot of weight buckeroos) and remembering most of what happened on the TV while I was "asleep". It sort of reminded me of how you can feel when you have drunk to much, but somehow suddenly become sober and in pain. Not good, not good at all.

It took me a good hour or two to get over my "restful" nap.

Should have just toughed out the crapness. That will learn me.

Shine On You Crazy Diamond

A day in the sun. Well more like 2 and a half hours. But that was enough.

I put sunscrean on my bicepts and my face and ears.
However my forearms were less lucky. They are red.

Lucky I tan out fairly well.

I found more spots I was sunburnt in the shower. The back of my knees and my scalp.
Stupid hair, too thin and whispy. Should shave it off and then I can at least put sunscrean on my dome. (and I think I look cool with no hair)

The sun is a ball of incandesent gas that burns at millions of degrees.
Thank you They Might Be Giants.

Opertunity

Only knocks lightly.

I just got offered two weeks work, for cash in hand.
$2400.
Nearly double my salery. Plus I will be on holidays, so getting paid as well.

My first venture into the dodgy world of contracting.

But it should be a massive experiance.
12 sites in the Northern Territory. From Darwin to Kathryn.
And I've never been up their before either. Tops. No better than that. Mega Tops.

And it might be worth even more than that to me as well.
Feeling sort of worried as the organising is not up to me. But also excited because if I pull this off then I will have an overseas/round the world plane ticket paid for.

Feeling very tingly right now. Strange. Cool, but not.

Oh well. the worst thing that can happen is "Wolf Creek" and then I get to be the subject of a movie. So I win either way.

Mega Ultra Tops.

Yaaaarrrrrrgggg: A Pirate Story

Once upon a midnight dreaming there was a pirate named Fredericbeard the Non-Molten.

Now Frederic was a nasty soul. With foul smelling breath due to his rotten teeth (he flatly refused any sort of breath freshener) and his bad washing habits (only if it rains hard enough) he was only slightly more liked than Darren the Hook-Footed*.

Fredric was one of these pirates who had no love of parrots. A strange hatred for a pirate true, but many a time Frederic was seen lining up a rivals parrot and cutting it down with his first volly from his pistol before attacking the owner.

You see Frederic was the son of a pet shop owner.

And the one animal in a pet shop that is always despised is the parrot. It has an uncanny ability to see everything and to only relate the bad things that happen in front of it. It is the natural alarm system. Always belived by the police and totally unfalable.

An example: One evening while working back late Frederic was cleaning out the kittens cage. A chore he loved, as kittens are furry and snugglesome. He had the kittens stuffed down his top, and they were wriggling round. Frederic triped due to the tickleing of the fur and knocked open the dogs cage. Frederic took a nasty savaging protecting the kittens from the enraged dog before he managed to push the dog back into the cage.
The next morning when asked if anything had happened over night the parrot did not respond.

On the other hand, the last night Frederic ever worked in his fathers pet store, while once again cleaning the cats cage he tripped and this time fell and squashed a kitten hidden in his tunic. The youl was horrendous before the silence. (This is the major reason no Pirates are to be found with cats on their shoulders, the first thing Frederic did in his pirating carear was hunt down all cat owning pirates and "liberated" the beasts from their incarseration.)
In his fear, for his father was an unforgiving man, Frederic let the dog out so that he would eat the cat and either remove the evidence or be blamed for the death.
The parrot had other ideas though, upon being asked who killed the cat it squarked "Frederic, Frederic."
Mortified and mentally scared Frederic left his home and all he knew, taking his only friend, his fish named Bob, and started roaming the earth growing a beard and a reputation so that when he again emerged into the world he was Fredericbeard the Non-Molten scourge of the fine dining set and friend of no man.

Not many would call the site of a foul smelling man wearing rags and a sword, with a dishevelled beard and a fish tank on his left shoulder scary. These people don't know Fredericbeard the Non-Molten. For he is the most feared of all of the land pirates of the Pacific Rim.

*Being a hook-footed person is easier than you might think, it relies on a great deal of balance and dexterity, but it is very easy to pick things up off the ground. Darren the Hook-footed had the problem of having the uncanny ability ruining any soccer ball in his near vicinity. And if there is one thing we all know, it is that pirates love their soccer matches. But in general if soccer balls are not involved hook-footed people are some of the most loved in history. Just look at Harrold and Geoffry, both with hook feet and both so famous I need not talk about them any more.

Sick Sloth

I am a big fan of being sick, but only if you are in a position to take sick leave.
Being sick and having to work, or worse yet, having to have a weekend, sucks arse.

I have ahad a weekend of sickness and work. Poo all round.

Just a cold. Nothing major, but enough to fill my head with snot and mucus, and to mack my eyes rebell against ever working.
I am slowly getting better though.
My cure.

Put four pounds of self pity in a bowl and stir until every one around you is pissed of at you.
Then add 4 hours of sleeping on the lounge room floor with car racing on.
Stir in a little comfort food (Or alot depending on taste)
A pinch of I look stupid with this tissue stuffed up my nose.
Then add a whole bag full of nothing.
Mix well and liberally coat the sick person while they are lying on the recliner couch.

This should cure you of the cold. Or at least make you sort of bearable.

Oh and my nose has become sand paper. Stupid nose.

I hate colds.

The Only Reason A Real Man Shaves A Place Other Than His Face.

I have had my back shaved about 5 times in various times and in various amounts.
I have also had half of my chest shaved.
Now my wrist.
Why you ask. Well it's all int the name of art.
Using my body as a living canvas.
My latest and fourth addition below. Pain is a strange thing. I usually don't care to watch needles and the like, but I had to watch the tattooing yesterday as I felt sick when I looked away. Strange. Might have had a bit to do with the head cold I seemed to be getting. Today it is much better. So maybe the tattooing has helped shock my body into overdrive and has helped my get over my cold. (I only had it for about 2 days) Don't think my cure will become popular though.
For all the people who send me postcards. I you look close enough you might see it on the fridge in the background. I will be getting the rest of my arm done. I just need to come up with an idea that I like. Probably get the artist to come up with the design though. Birds of some discription, flying around, possibly, no make the probably eagles. (Bird of Prey, Flying High, Bird of Prey, go Fatboy go.)
Oh, and a random picture of my cat Alpha (aka Little Bet, ie Alphabet, aka Plonker) Doing the wonderful thing of sleeping on my flatmates bed.

Strange Act

Did something very strange this morning.

I shaved the inside of my left wrist!?!

The feeling of my cloths on this area put it in my head to shave more of me. But with the amount of hair I have I think the regroth would be horrendus and too itchy to do. So hair it is.

Photos tomorrow of why.

Rock On

Sunday was a big day.
It was the first time I have sung with the band for an audience of more than wives of the other members.

Set list.
1. Pinball Wizard - The Who
2. Dakota - Stereophonics
3. Sunshine Of Your Love - Cream
4. Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes
5. Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd
6. Am I Ever Going To See Your Face Again - The Angles
7. Are You Going To Be My Girl - Jet

There were about 30 odd people there for the first run through. Everyone in the band was tense. I was ok, until about the second song in when the nerves hit, big time. I managed to forget two lines to the fourth song, and nearlycome in way to early in another couple of spots. But over all it was ok.
I enjoyed myself and found out why people need to perform. If you talked to me afterwards you would have found a very pumped up and crazy sloth, ready to go out drinking and partying.
I did neither though. Just a kick of a footy and waiting for the bass players parents to arrive so we could run through the songs again.

The second time through was great. I still had performance nerves but none of the excess anxiety. The bass player said that for the first run through he had had one to few beers, and for the second he had had one to many. I was stone cold sober, and I liked it that way. I performed, and gave something to my audience that was missing in the first run through.

When I got home I cracked oped some premix burbon and had a few cans. I crashed, big time. Huge adrenilin down. And I didn't come back up till about 2pm on the Monday (luckily a public holiday so I could recover with some intense TV watching.)
Just want to perform now, feel more confident with giving the audience something to watch, and giving them a show. Bring on the new stuff. The rehersals are worth it now.

Both shows are on a DVD so I get to look at myself and have a cringe.
But Wow. With more songs in the repertoire I think these family get togethers will be more and more fun.