Wednesday, 26 March 2008

Easter Camping Trip

As I lay on the precipice of my under inflated camping mattress, not quite warm, pillow hijacked by the toddler, I became aware of a sound in the distance. A high pitched whine of engines.

In my midnight delirium I thought, "The fucking bogans are out riding their dirt bikes in the dark."

It was audible beyond the moans of my diarrhoea stricken husband, beyond the rowdy singing of the group of drunken campers on the other side of the dried up creek bed. The creek bed just behind our tent where lay the rotting sheep carcass. The sheep carcass which lay just beyond the large communal garbage bins, the bins which which were situated just next to our tent and the pool of vomit my son had produced earlier.

I quietly congratulated myself on the ideal location of our tent.

Morning found me feeling decidedly nauseous and upon my first journey to the toilet block, I heard the damned engine sound again. All was revealed, the fucking bogans hadn't been riding their dirt bikes in the dark, they were playing video games.

It was supposed to be a bush camping trip. It was supposed to have included such things as campfires, quiet, bush sounds and feelings of bonhomie or at the very least bonmothernaturie. It was supposed to be fun. It wasn't supposed to have included gastro. I couldn't even eat my Easter chocolate.

Tuesday, 18 March 2008


I just thought of a very good reason why Washington D.C. could have been an extremely attractive option.

Update on Washington D.C.; it's not going to happen.

Ooooh! and I have a meme, I've seen it around, it's the book one, where according to my old friend Cocktails I open the book I am currently reading at page 123, skip the first five sentences and share the following three.

At first, like Cocktails I thought I would have to do the book I last read (Which was The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, it's good.) Only then I remembered I am sort of in the middle of a book, Captain Underpants and The Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants the Fourth Epic Novel by Dav Pilkey, so like Cocktails my selection is also, and for completely different reasons a children's book.

Page 123, brings us right into The Incredibly Graphic Violence Chapter (in Flip-O-Rama)

"While you are flipping, be sure you can see the picture on page 127 and the one on page 129.
If you flip quickly, the two pictures will start to look like one animated picture.

Don't forget to add your own sound-effects!"

A little background on my friend Cocktails:

I first met her in kinder (or prep) where we became fast friends and I taught her to play doll house in the dirt with a twig of pine needles and a few sticky up tree roots. Sadly she moved schools soon after, and it wasn't until high school that we were reunited with each other.

I think the only time I ever cheated in school, was off Cocktails, and it was in a music test, in year 8. I was musically deprived, particularly where popular music was concerned, my childhood was pretty much devoid of any secular music, lest I become possessed by the devil or something. Anyway to demonstrate my pitiful music knowledge I will tell you what the answer I read from Cocktails' test was; Michael Jackson.

I love to check in on her wild, child free life, though I admit all that music talk still goes over my head, though I'd still be just as happy to receive a mix-tape from her. (I wonder if she still does those?)

We lead completely different lives, far, far apart, and yet somehow we remain friends. Perhaps the next time we are reunited* it will be in a nursing home. I hope so.

I mean, if I do end up in a nursing home, wouldn't it be nice if she was there?

*Visits don't count.

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Wednesday, 12 March 2008

MATTEL Eat Your Evil Heart Out