Definately....

Why has this particular spelling become so popular? I understand that language is a living, growing thing, but with most spelling errors, at least you can see some phonetic root to it ('loose' instead of 'lose' for example) but who says "definATEly"??
I used to be a bit of a language/spelling snob, but accepted that language will evolve. I'd just like it to evolve practically.

And not piss me off

The Con Man......

....and the Dupe








The cause of Association Football lost a lot of ground last night with Australia's 1-0 loss to Italy last night in the Round of 16 World cup clash. Not because Australia lost, Australian crowds are not that fickle. It was the manner of the loss that will do the damage.

Fabio Grosso is a coward and a cheat. Pure and simple. In the dying seconds of the game, he used his unquestioned skills as a footballer to beat Marcus Bresciano on the left and force Lucas Neill into an early slide, and then, instead of stepping to his right around Neill's prostrate form and shooting on goal, spoiled it by jagging left and using his questionable skills as an actor and acrobat to dive onto the ground. Referee Luis Medina Cantalejo, like a 12 year old at his first circus, was completely taken in and pointed to the penalty spot, effectively robbing the Socceroos of the game.

Watching the under 11's playing on the weekend, talking to a past player from Stirling and he said to me "It's such an honest game at this age"
Sadly, Fabio Grosso showed us how the game can be manipulated, and why Australia has been so reticent to embrace it.

My game is fair play. It's just not soccer.

Free Personality test

Have a computer tell you about yourself. Find god through MS Paint.

I did.

Dreams

Last night I had one of those dreams that stay with you through the day. I dreamt of a friend of mine that I haven't seen in a long time. We were in a seaside "shack" community, I was feeling lonely and she appeared and we explored and chatted.
Now I've been missing her all day, and I wonder what that means.

Mid-winters Day

The shortest day of the year

Not my favourite time of the year. While the days have been glorious here (it has only rained twice in the last month) this time of the year always has a slightly depressing effect on me. Coming off birthday celebrations, and with nary a long weekend in sight until September, it seems as though there is very little to look forward to. I say seems, because this is obviously untrue, but on the respective timeline scale, the excitement cupboard is a little bare.

I am feeling insignificant at the moment, which doesn't help my outlook. I strive to be even handed, to not over react to emotional stimuli, which I like to thik I achieve most of the time. Unfortunately, it also means that people are less wary of pissing you off, and when they do the prevailing attitude seems to be "oh well".

I have a recurring nightmare that I don't really exist. I wake up convinced that I am not real, and it scares the crap out of me. Days like yesterday don't help.

MIA

Actually missing in study, on a training course. I am really not a good student, I think it's down to impatience. Sitting in an over-warm room listening to people ask questions that I either know the answers to or don't care is a hard way to spend two weeks. I am learning, but I think I (and the company) would be better served doing it at my own pace.

Boo hoo

The answer to life, the universe and everything

The last long weekend, until the end of September, has finished. The Foundation Day weekend is a favourite of mine because it falls on or around my birthday! This year's was excellent. I started Friday night with Stormie and Woodie in the shed. Darts and cards and talking bullshit kept us occupied until the clocked ticked midnight and my birthday officially started. Then of course we had to celebrate, so it was nearly 2 by the time I crawled in to bed. Saturday was spent lazing around my house, my favourite past-time, with my favourite people, watching my favourite footy team (Go West Coast!) come back from 54 points down to snatch a 3 point victory from the Cats. Then down the road to Macedonia Park to watch a 9-1 cup match and sink a few more beers with Woodie. Home for dinner (HJ's, my choice),an hour and a half phone call from Face and Ang and a visit from me Mum. Just when I thought I'd had the perfect birthday, I decided I'd try to stick it out until midnight, flicked it over to rage and sat until 12:30 watching "The Sex Pistols" and "The Saints".

Sunday, back down to Macies to watch the 13's play, then off to Freo to catch up with the "crew" (sans Woodie, oddly). The photo (We're thinking of saving it for an album cover :-) shows Ned (Fatness, Mark),me , G (Stormie, Norm) and Snake (Jake, Greg). All with their respective spouses and children were there as well as Crystal and Woz and their boys. We'd booked in to an apartment, so all back to ours for pizza and wine. I fell asleep watching the Socceroos and Netherlands draw.

Up early this a.m. Fast Eddy's for breakfast (nice, but glad I didn;t see the kitchen or the toilet until after I'd eaten, spent some of my birthday money on a new harmonica then home for more lazing.

I love Foundation Day

What a difference a day makes

It’s all about perspective.


Teenaged boys no longer appear to me to be gangly, pimply, smelly, testosterone-fuelled eating machines. Today they are angelic creatures imbued with the essence of all that is good in the universe, bravely picking their way through the danger filled maze of puberty.

Why?

My big boy is 13 now. I am the father of a teenager. I can still remember, clearly, talking about having babies with my bride 14 years ago. I remember thinking “Babies are all well and good, but who can love a 10 year old boy? How am I going to love a teenager!”

Now, of course, I know the answers are “Me” and “With all that I am”.

Woodie was talking about having babies the other night, and he said to us “I don’t believe that I will love a child of my own more than I already love my nieces and nephews, or my family and friends.” I let it go. It’s not something you can explain to the childless. It would be like trying to explain music to the profoundly deaf, or colour to someone blind from birth.

Parenthood is the hardest thing I have ever done. It is the most rewarding thing I have ever done and the thing of which I am most proud. Our two boys, just by being here, have made our world a better place, and us better people.

And now I can add teenaged boys to the list creatures that I love.

Happy Birthday Sis

May 19 1966.
The day my little sister was born. I can't imagine how awful my childhood would have been without her, though I'm sure a lot of her memories are of me torturing her and generally causing her grief. Even though I know we didn't have a great relationship until I was 18 or so, there are very few happy memories I have of my childhood that don't include her.

There are many unhappy memories that revolve around her, but in most of those I am the bad guy. I always felt as if I failed her as a big brother because I didn't or couldn't protect her. As it turns out, she has never needed my protection and is now one of the strongest and strongest-willed people that I know.

I remember one day in primary school, walking home with friends teasing her all the way home. I could tell something was wrong, just from her reaction, but instead of coming to her defense I ran with the sheep and kept it up. It wasn't until I got home that she told me he best friend (Wendy I think) had been killed in a car accident that weekend. I'm not sure if she even remembers the incident but it had a defining effect on my life. It was the beginning of my realisation that, regardless of what others think or say, my moral compass is inside myself. I often worry that my two boys will one day have similar regrets about the way they treat each other, and I tell them that no-one in this world is as much like them as a sibling.


Not only is a sibling the closest genetic match, but they share an upbringing and a lifestyle. Either way, Nature or Nurture, they share a great deal of what defines you.

Thanks sis, for making the last 40 years so interesting. I love you.

Beneath the Southern Cross

I have been considering the politics of Australia recently, or more to the point, the culture of the people. It started around ANZAC Day and has stuck with me, primarily because I have been unable to pinpoint where it all started to unravel for me. Growing up I always thought we were a nation built on the "fair go" principle. Before "A Current Affair" turned the word "battler" from a mark of respect for someone who was poor, but hard-working, to a epithet for toothless, fat bogans in leggings with 6 kids from 4 fathers, bleating that the government should pay them more to shoe their children, but somehow managing to find cash for the carton of cigarettes and slab of beer each week. When did we get so lazy? Was it the fault of faux Labor in the '80's? Of WA Inc? Was that when I lost faith? A true Believer with nothing left to believe in? I would hate this flag to become nothing more than a symbol of greed flown over building sites around the city.