Angry

I am feeling rather frustrated of late.

These frustrations are leading to anger being displayed in ways that are not entirely healthy and/or appropriate.

This usually happens when I've been drinking.

Just like now.

Apparently I was very drunk on Monday night last week, and I went off my tree at my housemate for not keeping the house clean.

I went quite ballistic at another friend for spreading untruths about me on the same night when he wasn't there to witness the things he was spreading.

On NYE I was at a party with a new group of friends, and I told some naughty stories to a group of straight guys who managed to twist them into an insult (confirmed by a sober person there). I let them know that I was not impressed.

And I am seriously pissed right now.

Tonight I find out that the person that I have been crushing on for far too long (long time readers may recall me referring to a "nice guy"), just sprouts shit to me. He tells me that the guy he hooked up with on Wed last week was too camp to consider a future with, then he tells another friend that he would move to Melbourne for the same camp man.

DON'T TELL ME SHIT. I am man enough to deal with you hooking up with other people.

He does nothing but confuse the shit out of me. I get a tattoo - he tells me he doesn't like men with tattoos. Why does it matter? I decide that I am going to have a neatly trimmed beard thing going on - he tells me he hates beards. It doesn't matter what you like.

For the last six months our mutual friends keep telling me that we should be together. Well I can't take it anymore. This guy is holding me back from being happy.

From my substance abuse counselling it has been identified that he is my "enabler" - the person that leads me astray to do bad things. I don't think that's the case. I think he is the man that I am trying to please at any cost, hoping that he will fall into bed with me. I can't please him in that way.

BUT - his friendship is very important to me. I just need to learn how to move on and leave any fantasy about us being in a relationship in the gutter. I respect him professionally, and as a great friend but he will never be my lover.

I hope this post will allow me to have some closure.

Just another crime statistic

A few weekends ago I got mugged. Well, that may be too soft a term for it. I had the crap beaten out of me and got robbed.

After the first AFL grand final, after far too many beers for a man who isn't supposed to be drinking, after my friends tried to put me in a taxi, I was found in a garden bed about 3km's from where I was left - bleeding, unconscious, sans wallet, keys, phone and shoes.

THEY STOLE MY MOTHER FUCKING SHOES!!!!

In all the years I've been going out in Fortitude Valley, I have never experienced any violence - sure I've seen fights erupt in the clubs, but I have never been involved in any altercations. EVER.

So this has thrown me more than a little bit. The Valley is my world. There's three gay venues where I have always felt comfortable and safe. Even the straight venues I frequent have always felt at home and not have to worry about getting beat up.

I used to walk home from the Valley. 3, 4, 5 in the morning, in various states of inebriation, and never had a problem. Ever.

It has been over a month now since it happened, and while I have been out a few times, I'm still more than a little bit uneasy about being out on my own.

And I hate that. Hate that so much.

Gravel rash where?

So.

Have you noticed that I have a list of worries?

Yes?

Good.

My biggest one right now is my inability to control my drinking.

I know some of my more popular posts have been recollections of boozy nights past, but after last weekend, I'm more than a little concerned about it.

Lets summarise the damage of a last weekend's bender in no particular order;

2 - nights of drinking
500 - dollars spent, probably more
1 - Hole in the lounge room wall
3 - ex's attempted to hook back up with on various dancefloors
0 - successful hook up attempts with ex's
1 - Irishman in my bed that wouldn't kiss
5 - smashed glasses in the kitchen sink
1 - arse cheek covered in gravel rash
2 - over worked kidneys
x - number of sambucca shots consumed, where x may equal anything between 1 and infinity.

It was all kind of a blur really. But I do remember both nights getting to the stage where I just went "Fuck it... lets just get trashed".

And I did. With a great deal of success. And that's what really worries me the most. That I had to take it to that next level.

Why wasn't tipsy to medium level drunk enough? I was having a great time both nights, but oblivion was just calling my name.

So two mammoth hangovers, two days in a row, left me pretty much without a good proper sleep in, and a good relaxing day to recover from a fairly hellish week.

And the embarrassment of crashing through the house at 4am with the non-kissing Irish man, breaking all the glasses in the sink and then falling over in the courtyard with my pants around my ankles has led me to the conclusion that enough is enough.

So I've told a few people that I need to cut back, and all are supportive.

"Yes! It'll be great for your health."

"Yes! It'll be great for your budget."

"Yes! It'll be great for your reputation to not look like a drunken sloppy whore every time you go out."

But tonight a couple of those supportive people seem to have forgotten about being supportive.

"So you're coming out tomorrow then?" asks one. When I say no, probably gonna go to the parents for a visit, I get laughed at.

"I'm sure I'll see you on the dance at midnight out of your skull!" Chortle, chortle, snigger.

Fuck you. You have no faith in me at all? Thanks.

And then another tonight sends me a text saying "Come get trashed with me!" with my reply being "I'm cutting back, remember?"

The response? "Oh. Fuck that".

Once again. Thanks.

I know I've said it before, told people that I have to cut back, and will try and adhere to a low booze weekend. And have miserably failed. On more than one occasion.

I need to not get trashed this weekend. I need to display some self control. Just to prove to myself that I can actually do it.

But what if I can't?

It's worse than the swine flu pandemic...

It's time to go hunting... it's time to kill the fucking blue bird that is "Twitter".

Twitter is the evil that is killing blogging as we know it. It is sapping our creativity 140 characters at a time. And as such, it is making the blogsphere one very boring place indeed.

Its quite simple really... the more witty you try and be in your twitter posts, and the more regularly you update your twitter account, the harder it will be to sustain your creative genius and provide a quality post on your own proper blogger account.

I liken it to a gentleman's orgasm. Sure, most blokes can have more than one in a day. The more talented ones will have 7, 8, maybe even 9 "releases" in a 24 hour period, but the problem is the first one will be nice and strong, but the second and subsequent ones will take a little bit longer to produce, and the end result will never be as satisfying as that first one. And by the time you finally spurt out that last one you will be so drained that it actually hurts, and very little if anything of worth will come out. But when you awaken the next morning and realise you need to produce the same number of samples, you know its going to be a tough day.

So instead of producing one great, imaginative and well written blog post a day (or even every second day), the quality posts are being diluted by micro-blogging multiple times a day. It just can't be sustained.

I used to be in awe of my fellow twitterers when i first started logging in when I got home from work. Such creativity, such imagination. SUCH BULLSHIT! Have you actually read the shit these people are putting up for the world to see? I don't care what you had for lunch. I don't care that you almost stood in dog shit. I DON'T CARE WHAT THE FUCK ASHTON KUCHER IS DOING AT ANY GIVEN TIME. EVER. Jesus Christ people, get a fucking life.

And of course I tried my best to fit in with all the other tweeters out there. While I tried to make my tweets edgy and imaginative, they just became an exact copy of my status updates on Facebook, and that's just fucking lazy (Yes - I'm looking at you Mr Sky Hooker).

And while you yourself may not "tweet" on a regular basis, or may not even have an account, you can pretty much guarantee that at least 80% of your favourite bloggers do, and if you're anything like me, you are inspired to write by those on your blog roll. So if they are investing too much time in micro-blogging, and aren't producing some ripping yarns on their pages, why should you?

This is a call to arms. If you love your blogging community you must act now to save it. Delete your Twitter account. Delete the Twitter widget from your sidebar. Delete any requests from friends who want you to follow them immediately. Delete, ignore, burn any reference to twitter you come across, and heckle and insult those who refuse to comply.

Twitter is evil and must be stopped, or life as we know it will cease to exist.

Its all up to you.

I'm all discombobulated...

I've got an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's a knot of frustration, anxiety, sadness, and anger all mixed together.

Work is shitting me - a million and one requests for HR support that everyone thinks will be actioned immediately when in reality you can go fuck yourself. Oh, and don't bother trying to tear me a new arsehole because you hired someone without the proper authority and now she hasn't been paid in 6 weeks. NOT MY FAULT YOU CAN'T FOLLOW DIRECTIVES.

I'm driving a million miles a day at the moment - mum and dad are away for three weeks so I have to go out to feed the dog. I've been staying over night, but it takes me almost two hours to get work in the morning, so I'm frazzled before I even get here.

Men are confusing me, well one in particular - drunken comments left on a post, leading to drunken flirty texts, and then general chit chat emails, with a bit more flirting thrown in. I want him, and I think he wants me, but where to from here? I'm no good at playing it cool.

I just want everything to be sweet and easy and cool. Is that too much to ask for?

Yes... because Jesus hates me for being a poof.

(And yes, I know if I want to be happy, I need to make my own happiness, take charge of my life, and all that shit… just let me vent).

And the winner is.... a complete fucking wanker

Oh Cleo Bachelor of the year! What the fuck have you done?

How can you let this hipster doofus be crowned the most eligible bachelor in all the land?
Axel Whitehead has won the annual competition. Axel Whitehead, the man who got fired from his gig as host of Video Hits, because he flashed his cock at the ARIAs. Axel Whitehead, one of the first talented dropkicks to be booted off the first series of Australian Idol.

Axel fucking Whitehead.

I am disgusted.

Take a look at last year's winner;
The rather fetching Jason Dundas from Getaway. Hmmm. Still not quite hot enough, but compare to Axel bumfuck Whitehead he's a million times better.

Whitehead (isn't that a type of pimple?) should never leave the house without a paper bag on his head.

Or maybe a plastic bag would be a preferred option.

Let me point out your flaws in a public forum...

As much as I don't like it, I have to admit I am going bald. Fuck it.

I've always had very high peaks - that comes from my maternal grandfather. He had a very full and bushy head of silver hair up until the day he died. But in the last 3 or so years, it's also started thinning at the front, but remained very thick at the sides - much like my paternal grandfather.

And there's not a god-damn thing I can do about it. I used to try and keep the top a bit longer and brush it forward, but then I admitted to myself that that was a comb over, which is the worst possible thing to do to your hair. So I just decided to shave it all off. And I'm quite happy with that look. In fact, I actually find men with clippered hair extremely hot. Even better... the chrome dome, completely hair free head - hmmmm.

But the thing that really annoys me the most about losing my hair in my early 30's is that people seem to feel its completely appropriate to mention it in passing conversation;

A new manager - "So I see TAFE has made you loose your hair!" with in the first 30 seconds of meeting her. Fuck you bitch.

A teacher - "Oh Ben, I see you've lost as much hair as you have weight. Haha". That was a back handed compliment cunt.

Aunty, over lunch with lots of relatives on Sunday - "You know you can get a prescription to stop any more of your hair falling out." Yes Aunty, I hate you too.

How would these people feel if I countered their funny little quip with something that pointed out one their physical imperfections, over which they have absolutely no control?

New manager - "I see those acne scars aren't hidden very well by your caked on make up." Opps... that would be inappropriate.

Teacher - "Did you happen to forget your deodorant this morning , because you are more whiffy than Oprah's fat folds on a Texas summer afternoon?" No, that would be nasty.

Aunty - "You do realise that your bra is providing inadequate support for your sagging boobs, and they shouldn't be hanging down near your belly button?" I think I would be disowned.

So what gives people? If I said anything about a person's weight/hair colour/wonky eye/crazy man beard/lisp/missing front teeth/giant ears I would get mercilessly attacked for being nasty and cruel, but its OK to pick on the follicly challenged.

The next person who says anything about it is gonna get my foot up their arse.

"Fuck You" Friday - 2nd Edition

Fuck You - to men (and/or women) who feel a text message is an appropriate way to tell someone you don't want to see them again. Well it's not appropriate, it just makes you seem like a gutless wonder. What the hell would you have done to dump me if we'd actually progressed passed the second date?

Fuck You - to the hot guy who accepted my friend request on Facebook but then deleted me before I could even blink. Sure, I can accept that I may not have been to your particular tastes, but the fact we had been emailing backwards and forwards all week surely deserved a bit more than an instant "delete".

Fuck You - to my new iPod headphones that have already blown out after two weeks of use. I'm really gonna have to invest in a good pair aren't I?

Fuck You - to my fucking writers block. Last week I had a new post every single day. This week I got bupkiss.

Fuck You - to this stupid Brisbane weather. Either rain constantly so I know not to hang my clothes on the line, or stay hot as all fuck so my clothes actually get dry and don't have that funky "musty" smell meaning I have to wash them again.

Fuck you all.

"Fuck You" Friday

Fuck You - to the bus driver who decided to cancel the service in the middle of fucking no where this morning and told us all to get off, and then wouldn't let us "touch off" with our go cards, thus costing us a $5 penalty.

Fuck You - to the 50 million fucking mosquito's who bit the crap out of me on Wednesday thus making me look like a pox-ridden disease carrying prostitute for my date last night.

Fuck You - to the bitch who let go of the door at the Vietnamese take away at lunch as I was leaving with full hands and letting it smack me in the face. Ever heard of manners you whore? By the way, that dress made you look totally fat.

Fuck You - to the cunts in IT who haven't updated security access to the HR system for 200 employees even though it's an urgent priority, even though I logged the job LAST FUCKING TUESDAY! I'm sick of getting 50 phone calls an hour from people wanting to do their job. JUST FIX IT ALL READY!

Fuck You - to the the fat stinky man on my train yesterday that had to sit next to me. There were plenty of other spots to sit, so why pick me? I know yesterday was hot as, but please go get some deodorant .

Fuck you all.

The nickname game

I used to have a rather juvenile habit of assigning nick names to people who were once part of my life, but now, I don't really give a shit about. Some still lurk around the edges, but I try not to talk to them as they generally shit me to tears.

Beth Ditto - a former housemate, who unfortunately bore a more than striking resemblance to the lead singer of The Gossip. A friend named her T-Bone for her stark diet consisting of T-Bone steaks and mashed potato.

Eyebrows - I've briefly mentioned him before, mainly for his annoying habit of wiggling his eyebrows during oral sex.

Elbow - my first ever boyfriend. He was 16 years my senior, which put him very close to the age of 50. He was given the horrible nickname of "Elbow" by friends (not that he ever heard it) because someone surmised that his "old balls would feel like the dry skin on your elbow". I did my own comparison on him one night. They felt nothing like my elbow skin. (Confess - your feeling your elbows right now)

Whore Lip - this is a horrible nickname for someone who I still talk to quite a bit, but she gets really really bad cold sores on her lips. Anyone that's seen American Dad will get the reference.

The Slapper - I was this woman's team leader for a couple of years. The first day I arrived she had the nerve to tell me that she was much more qualified to do my job but decided to give someone else a chance to do it. That kinda set the tone for many months of hell in managing this chick. She was also massively overweight, and had a bad habit of wearing dresses that were way too short for her. She had bad body odour and the day she perched herself on my desk I almost passed out from the smell.

Tumbleweed - a certain manager in this place who only blows in during the quiet times and blows right out the other door.

Moley - another boyfriend, and this guy just had so many moles on his face so it was an obvious choice. On his ears, on his lips, on his back, arms, legs, chest, hands. He used to use solariums quite regularly, so I was quite concerned about the melanoma risk. He just wanted to be tan, even though he was South American and already had a great skin tone. He was also known as the hairdresser, as, um, he is a hairdresser.

The Twin - we dated for a few weeks and well he was a twin (duh), but strangely enough he was also named Ben, he was my age and was pretty much the same height and weight as well. He did have a lot more hair than me. Bastard. Wish that one had gone somewhere though.

Hot Ash - a guy at the gym who strikes a remarkable resemblance to a random gay guy I know, but is much higher on the hotness scale.

On reflection, it was a really horrible thing to do. Espeically to the boyfriends. It really showed a lack of respect for them. Maybe Karma is now in effect and is making sure I don't find a new man for my past cunty behaviour.

How not to retain customers in a competitive market...

I love the gym. I used to spend so much time there getting buff. But now I'm more flab than fab and with the impending move, I've had to cancel my membership.

And while my gym was brand new and all sparkly and shiny there are several things that really shit me about the place;

When a customer refers several new members and the manager tells you "Hey, thanks for that. We'll give you a couple of towels." Make sure you actually give them the towels.

When you send a customer their "Happy Birthday" letter, it might have more impact if you sent it close to their birthday in August, not at the end of October.

When a customer's personal trainer quits, you could possibly convert them to a new personal trainer by simply making a phone call , and asking if they want to try someone else. But it appears you don't want the extra $45 a week.

When the only two ab abductors in the place break, don't leave them sitting there with "out of order" signs on them for three months. They are the most popular machines in the place.

When customers are working out, its poor form to see the staff members playing cricket in reception.

When your opening hours say you are open til 9pm, don't go turning off all the treadmills at 8:45. I still might want to do some light cardio after my weights.

When a customer has their iPod stolen don't say to them "feel free to check everyone's pockets". Maybe a phone call from the manager would have been a better option.

When a customer calls to say they need to cancel their membership, don't say "OK, call this number and it's done." Maybe try and talk them into staying, or ask the reasons why, or try to get them to join the same chain in a different suburb. Never say "OK".

Sorry Goodlife Chermside, your facilities are nice and new, but you've blown it with your shoddy follow up and client retention. I shall be referring people to your opposition.

Welcome to hell.

Life is shit.

Housemate hates my guts. That's fine, can't stand the sight of her right now either.

Landlord not renewing lease, so have to move house by 4th Jan. It's hard finding rentals that will take a dog. Expecting WWIII to erupt over cleaning and other costs as we move out.

It looks like I've been dumped. Well he's not returning calls or responding to messages.

Construction on my Enrolments Project 1 has finally started (3 months late) but staff members are calling me constantly to complain about things. How can you tell what it's going to look like after two days of work?

Got completely slaughtered in a staff forum over my Enrolment Project 2. Had a teacher call me a "fat fuck" in front of about 80 people. Nice.

HR project deadline bought forward two weeks to this Friday.

Reflux has returned with a vengeance, and my numbness is back to make life hell (left arm goes numb, can't move it properly).

But there is some good news... I've lost a kilo already this week. My appetite is gone, and I'm exercising like a fiend.

Enough bitching... back to HR reports.

Sound financial decisions in these tough economic times

So who's feeling the pinch of the economic crisis? Are you worried about losing your job if the economy tanks? Are the interest rate cuts too little too late and you are already sleeping in a caravan on your sister's front lawn, with a pee bucket by the door because she won't let you in the house after she's gone to bed?

Well Foxtel have a solution for you... get Pay TV!

I'm sure you've seen the ads where the crotchety old mother tells her daughter that she's gonna have to be more careful with her money because of the economy, but the daughter says "It's OK - we got Foxtel!!!!!"

"It lets us record all our favourite shows and we'll save heaps of money on going out! It'll bring the family together! And it's free!"

Hmmm... there are so many things wrong with that quote;

"Lets us record our favourite shows..." -If you mean sitcoms such as Will and Grace, or the Simpsons or any other 90's sitcom most of which are available on Free to Air TV, or available in cheap as chips DVD's from JB Hi Fi.

"It'll bring the family together..." - sure, your pudgy, lazy arse kids are gonna be much more family orientated as they sit on the lounge not talking to you as they watch crap TV repeats.

"We'll save heaps of money on going out" - so you want your children to be hermit-like shut-ins who rarely venture outside and will have limited social skills and as such will be shunned by their peers in their depressing future?

"And it's free" - well they are giving you 12 months of Foxtel IQ for free, and that's usually $100 a month, so that is a good deal, but they fail to mention that you need to still sign up for a subscription to Foxtel, which from memory starts around $95 a month.

So your family will get fatter as they will be sitting on their arse all day, your kids won't talk to you because TV is more important, but then again they won't be talking to anyone due to inept social skills, and you'll still be short $100 a month for your mortgage.

Sounds like a wise investment. Wise investment indeed.

My eyes! My Eyes!

I hate hype. It annoys the absolute crap out of me.

I hate so-called journalists who have made a career out of gushing over some jet-lagged celebrity who obviously doesn't want to be in the same room as you, let alone hear how much you loved their last project.

I hate how movie trailers and "behind-the-scenes" specials have become some how news worthy and need to be shown on every single news program, current affairs show and talk/variety/advertorial show in the weeks up to the actual film gets released.

I hate how the fact that some fool can spend 70 kabillion dollars on a movie and it's automatically deemed a hit, with talk of Oscar nominations for actors before anyone has even seen it.

I hate when stars, directors and various hangers on appear on talk shows and are all bestest buddies and tell us all how much fun they had making the 80 kajillion-billion dollar crap fest and they will declare their undying love for each other, yet probably will never speak again. Ever.

And that ladies and gentlemen, that is why I hate "Australia", Baz Lurhmann's new epic wank fest.

Of course I haven't seen this 2 hour, 45 minute stink fest, but I can tell you now it will be the biggest pile of maggot infested dog shit that has ever been released.

As far as I can tell this move will contain the following;

Every horse riding scene out of "The Man From Snowy River".

Every dodgy accent from "Far and Away".

Every exploding building and low-flying, bomb dropping plane in a war type scene from "Pearl Harbour".

Every single intelligence-insulting, wince-inducing, coloquialised Australian slang term ever created. Crikey!

All covered with enough of Baz Lurhmann's so-called "visual magic" to make you vomit it till you bleed.

But the worst part about the while thing is bound to be Nicole Kidman's face;

That just ain't right.

I'm sure "Australia" will rake in the dollars at the box-office, especially in the USA, and that can't be a bad thing for our movie industry. But I hope to hell that most Australians who do see it will leave the cinema feeling that it was hyped just a little too much, and that the new James Bond would have been a better choice.

It opens today. You are dead to me forever if you go see it.

Jerry Lewis is a fucking idiot...

News from SameSame this morning;

"At a press conference in Sydney today 83 year old comedian Jerry Lewis decided to let fly with the word ‘fag’. And what’s even more shocking, a major Australian news outlet didn’t even feel the need to edit the word out before televising the interview.

While speaking with a journalist from Channel Ten News, Lewis was asked “What do you think of cricket?” His response was, “Oh cricket is a fag’s game!” Lewis then proceeded to flounce about, using camp, effeminate gestures, pretending to hold a bat with a limp wrist, squealing in a high pitched voice “Ah! The ball is coming towards me!”"

And stupid fucking Channel Ten played the portion completely unedited.

Fuck you Jerry Lewis for trying to use gay for comedy. Fuck you Channel Ten for letting word air uncensored.

Time to be euthanised Mr Lewis... you're obviously on the last stages of the deadly "head up anus" syndrome.

So did you wash your hair before you appeared on TV?

The ARIAs - boring

Hamish and Andy - lame

Gabriella Cilmi - please wash your hair

The Veronicas - blonde doesn't suit the one on the right

Hamish and Andy - feeble

Sam Sparro - Jim Carey in Dumb and Dumber?

Myf Warhurst - your boobs. Set them free.

The Living End - rocked big time

Hamish and Andy - why are these two so popular? Why?

Chris Lilley - target of my new mini crush

Presets - yay for winning, boo for selling your songs to advertisers

Who knew he was actually funny?

I'm not a fan of Red Symons at all. How can someone make a life long career out of being a cranky old cunt on TV? OK, I'll admit he was once famous for being in Sky Hooks (while dressed in drag), but in my lifetime, all he is is a hate filled ugly man on our TV's.

So when I found this video being credited to him on Joe.My.God I was quite surprised, as it's quite well done and made me chuckle;



Well done Red - or who ever did it for you.

I'm stuck.

WARNING - this post is nothing more than a self-serving rant. Read at your own risk.

Ladies and gentlemen, it has dawned on me that I hate my job. I hate it with such a passion that it scares me.

Now most people do have some degree of distaste for what they do - it's the very nature of our working lives - but I seriously am about to go postal in this place. It's driving me insane.

I am nothing more than a middle management pleb in the public service where all creativity is stifled, arse kissing is de rigueur and poor performance is rewarded with promotion and adoration of management. It is a soul-crushing environment that is suffocating me every minute I spend here.

My working day involves sprouting big words in crappy project proposals to inform Executive Management on cost saving ideas, and then fighting with everyone on the planet to make these ideas a reality.

Kill me now.

I have developed the vocabulary of a seasoned public servant who never really says anything important. Such gems as;"Business Process Review" (guh?), "Cost Benefit Realisation" (zuh?), "Strategic Communication Brief" (blah) and the worst of fucking all "Change Management Ideologies".

Nothing but empty meaningless buzz words designed to disguise the fact that I'm cutting costs across the place.

And don't people love it when I suggest new ways that we can save dollars in their team? It's like I've gone and punched their elderly grandmother right in the cunt. An extract from one manager's response to a proposal;

"Ben is a provocative and offensive operator who is presenting ill-conceived and under-researched solutions for personal glory that will ultimately put my business unit and the future of the entire Institute in jeopardy"

That was back in May and it still makes my blood boil. All because I wanted to reduce the opening hours of a service counter at her campus.

How the hell did I end up here? I always wanted a job that would let me be creative and innovative and generally be proud of what I do. Right now, I have none of that in this place.

So what can I do? Quit, go find a better job? Sure, but after five years in this place all I'm really qualified to do is the same basic job in another department of the public service. Private sector wouldn't touch me with a ten foot pole.

I could always change direction completely, but I would need to take a pay cut and work my way back up again. I've down that once before (I was a Hotel Manager in a previous life) and I just don't think I have the patience and perseverance to start the climb on the corporate ladder again.


So I guess I just have to suck it up and keep soldiering on. It is a saving grace that I have the flexibility to be able to post through the day. If I didn't have Zeke here to let out some creativity I think I would have killed someone by now.

Now I just need them to block the blogspot url and my life will become completely shiteous.

We're on a road to no where...

I have just spent two hours on a bus to get to work. TWO FUCKING HOURS.

I caught a bus from Greg's at 6:30am to arrive at Bracken Ridge campus at 8:30am. That's pretty fucking ridiculous considering its all of 20km's away and the drive would only take 25 minutes according to Google maps.

I had to go all the way into the city, and then get another bus and go past his place out to the Northern suburbs. No direct route for me.

Now with a crap coffee (I don't remember flat whites coming with froth and chocolate sprinkles thanks very much canteen lady), and the slowest computer in the place to work from I think I am in for a very shitty day indeed.

At least I got to wake up happy.

Joe Six Pack and friends...

I've resisted the urge to do a post about the US presidential election for so long now, but stupid Sarah Palin is just giving me too much ammunition to ignore.


I'm really beginning to think the woman is retarded. I'm not sure that she ever actually said "I can see Russia from my house", but she is using Alaska's proximity to the former Soviet Union as her qualification for US foreign policy. That's kinda like me saying that since I've seen a couple of vadge's, so I'm now qualified to be your gynaecologist.

In an interview with Katie Couric, she was asked what news publications she reads to keep abreast of all the current events. "All of them." Hmmm... concise answer there Sarah, but not what Katie wanted. When pressed for specific details she responded with "You know, generally, all of them." This woman was a journalism major at college, so for her not to be able to name a single news paper is pretty damn scary. I'd almost expect her to say "The Bible" is her only source of news.

She is very vocal about being anti-abortion (it should be illegal in all cases except death for the mother, she says), and doesn't believe in sex education being taught in schools (well she thinks kids she be taught abstinence but not how to use contraception) - so that's probably how her 16 year old daughter ended up pregnant and unwed. She probably just telling the girl to pray for a miscarriage.

Some other scary points - lifetime member of the NRA, supports the teaching of "Creationism" in schools, against gay marriage and gay partner benefits, disagrees with listing the polar bear and beluga whale as endangered species and thinks man has nothing to do with Global warming.

I think she is taking the conservative point of view to the extreme.

I know everyone is entitled to their own political beliefs, but it's a fucking scary thought that this woman has a 50-50 chance of being the under study to the president of the USA. Very scary.

And the final nail in the coffin for me against Palin? While she was mayor of the Alaskan town of Wasilla, it was her policy that rape victims were charged for their rape kits (between $300 and $1200). Hmmm... that's not going to discourage women from coming forward to report the crime is it? That is a disgusting policy.

The only good thing about Palin in the race for Vice President is that it's giving the fantastic Tina Fey so much comedy gold

The resemblence is uncanny, and Fey has got the accent down pat. Watch some of the SNL videos over at Gay Sky Hooker

I love you Tina. I'd go straight for you Tina.

Seriously.