Scary thought

Firstly, it's been almost 2 months since my last post, so I thought that I would share a thought that I had yesterday afternoon, but first.... some background.

When I was hiking in the Himalayas, we ascended (via jeep) to about 3,630 metres having started at a far lower altitude earlier in the day at Darjeeling.  Now I'm told that a good rule of thumb when ascending is to rest for 1 day for every 1,000 metres you ascend.  At first, I thought this was a load of bollocks, but rather than risk it, I heeded the words of my far wiser 
travel companion  - Vandit.

That night it was a struggle to breathe and sleep and Newman actually thought he was going to have a heart-attack, with chest pains and numbness in his hands.  For my part, I felt extremely light-headed, feint and thought that I was going to pass out.

So I'm taking a shit yesterday, and I was pushing really hard, and suddenly I thought I was back in the Himalayas again, and it wasn't for the pleasant aroma either.  There should be warnings on toilet doors reminding people of the risks of taking a dump, seriously.  They have warnings for pretty much everything else, so why not?!

If there was, I doubt that Elvis would have had such a ghastly demise, and I wouldnt' have been within a few seconds more of gritted and determined exertion of feinting.

Now, I'd call that a triumphant return to blogging, wouldn't you?

London Calling....

As I mentioned in the previous post, it's been almost 600 days since I arrived in London and a lot has taken place in this time, so I thought that I would list - in no particular order - 20 things that I've done (or have happened) since I landed here....

1. I've become engaged,
2. Have been to 15 new countries,
3. I've lost 13 kilograms,
4. I was abducted in Oslo,
5. Attempted to learn Afrikaans,
6. I've been to an NFL game,
7. I've had the mumps,
8. Listened to Joe Dolce's 'Shaddupa your face' 100 times in succession,
9. Caught up with Tucker Max and his mates in a bar in NYC,
10. Went Ice-Fishing with some Latvian natives,
11. Crept closer to 100 games, completing game 98,
12. Have been detained by US border patrol on Canadian/US border,
13. Managed to get photographed with both Chip & Buster Bison,
14. Used an AK-47 in a former Soviet army bunker,
15. Seen Liverpool win the most exciting FA Cup ever in Cardiff,
16. Watched George Bush be driven to the White House,
17. Finally chose a tattoo to get,
18. Was involved in a riot at the opening of Emirates Stadium,
19. Went three months without going on a Bacardi binge,
20. Wrote the worst blog ever.

So there you have it, a very brief insight into my London life over the last 600 or so days....

Riveting stuff, I know....

Counting down...

Have you ever noticed that we live our lives by numbers, or is the inexplicable absence of consciousness towards the notion due purely down to the fact that we simply accept it, and move on?!

Don't worry, I'm not going to go and get all existentialist or start to regurgitate crack-pot theories of conspiracies, I was just articulating my thoughts....

So yeah, counting down.....

I weighed myself this morning and I noticed that I have now dropped down to under 80 kgs, which is the lightest that I've been since I was about 23-24. It's a far cry from the halcyon days after blowing out my knee when I managed to balloon up to 94 kgs, and do a fairly handy impersonation of the Michelin Man in the process. It's not so much the weight that I find interesting, more so the constant scrutiny that I have on the numbers themselves. I need a second opinion (set of scales), because I don't know how I could be 78kgs, but hey, when in Rome.....

Counting down.....

Since booking a trip in March, I've been keeping a daily counter on my whiteboard at work, which I use as much of a reminder of when I'm due to return back to Australia as I do a means to piss off my colleagues and to drive their jealousy. Thing is, given the current work climate and that I'm now engaged, I wont be able to head back to Oz for probably another year, and if that's the case, I'll have been here in the UK for almost three years without a return home.

Counting down.....

Today would have brought me within 40 days....

40 days...

Geelong can blow a season in 40 days....
Lent apparently lasts 40 days....

In essence, it's a short time given that I've now been here in the UK for 592 days - and counting.....

It's all about the counting.......

Not before time.....

It's not like I'd forgotten this place or was averse to throwing a few lines together, but as most people know, the last six or so months has seen a major change in my life, culminating in my recent engagement with the beautiful Linda, who I'm sure you'll hear and see a lot of in the future.

Originally, this blog was a means for me to keep in touch with people, do some writing and generally kill a couple of birds with a single stone, but that seems to have gone by the wayside in recent months as my life has been fairly busy with other things.

Anyway, I'll hopefully get back into the swing of things soon and keep everyone updated as to what's happening over here in London. I've included a picture of Linda and I in Paris (Notre Dame), perhaps that will explain part of my absence...

Let me think about it, write a blog or spend more time hanging out with Lin......

Probing questions...

I'm not a particularly intelligent guy, and any confession about lacking knowledge is hardly going to be a startling revelation to anyone, but that still doesn't dissuade me from continuing my ongoing quest to answer the important questions, and the current crop is as probably as intriguing as the lancing of a cyst, but I'll plough right in, anyway.

*Why do some people insist on keeping the tags on their baseball caps, and why are they predominantly B-people?
*Why does the Transport For London marketing campaign have the last two letters of 'London' in red?
*Did Pete Doherty really get one away with Kate Moss? If so, how?
*Is 'Test Drive My Girlfriend' the most ridiculous 'reality TV' program in history?
*Why do 'reality TV' shows anger me so much?
*If I was to draft Nick Dal Santo into my Fantasty Football Team, would he instantly have a long-term injury like Hadley and Darcy managed within days of me 'drafting' them?
*Does my drafting genetically alter people?
*Does anyone else have any idea about what I'm babbling about?
*How does Ricky Ponting fail to defend 434?
*Who would win a fight out of Pauline Hanson, and the band Hanson?
*How can the Brits be giving me shit about the CommGames when we doubled their medal tally?
*Why do the French riot every other month?
*Why doesn't Hugh Heffner answer my emails?
*Is 'Brokeback Mountain' a bad film to watch with another bloke?

I need to know these things...

I'm going to hell.....

DJD:- "Man, there are a lot of blind people around here. [Wembley]"
CBJ:- "You're right, I saw one this morning actually! But he didn't see me."
DJD:- *Laughing* "Shut up, you can't say that so loud, she [the blind woman] will hear you!"
CBJ:- "It's ok, she wont know who said it!"

Dog'o'rama...

It seems that most - if not all - of my predictions were somewhat incorrect, but there was definitely some success in the evening, even if it was geared around Doc throwing off his Barcelona form and displaying a surpisingly refreshing team mentality!

In the end though, getting out-drank by a Polish girl was not the most stellar of performances, but having been hilariously rejected by some English bird a few hours earlier, it was in perspective. It's kind of like Australia losing the Ashes, bound to happen every now and then, but to be fair, there were mitigating circumstances.

Predictions of tonight...

It's like 930pm and I'm about to head to the best club in London, the Spotted Dog in Willesden Green. This place is renowned as a hot-spot for English and Antipodean talent, and I am making the following predictions about tonight.

*DJD will pick up and shag the type of girl that you need a team of sherpas if you wish to attempt to ascend.
*BTLC is wearing a shirt reminiscent of scouts and/or truck drivers from the US Highway crew. He will Stockholm-up and do some dodgy girl down an alley, and I'm not referring to a street location, type alley.
*Doc will be moody, awaiting for some Iranian to assault him.
*CBJ will get into a random brawl with either a drunken Pom or some Doc-moody-making-Iranian.
*TheShearer will be angry for not being a part of the festivities.

How do you spell 'ominous foreshadowing'?

An update will be given tomorrow as to the outcome of tonight's activities.

Fact!

Back in the saddle...

It's almost the three month anniversary since my last post, and although I was really hoping I could achieve this landmark, the avalanche of emails begging me to start posting was the impetus for this phenomenal return.

I've thrown in a ludicrous picture of me standing in the middle of the Daugava river, in Riga, Latvia. As you can see, not only have I morphed into a cone-head, but I've also mastered the 'ridiculous pose'. It takes a lot of application to be able to perform to that level.

Random musings...

Just a few questions and ponderings I've been recently having...

*Is there anyone happier than I am, seeing England being completely destroyed by Pakistan?
*Speaking of Pakistan, why is there significantly little press about Yasir Arafat being in the team. Surely this is going to cause instability somewhere in the world?!
*If Andrew Flintoff fell over in a forest, and Kevin Pietersen wasn't there, would we believe it?
*How many more failures can the rancid Andrew Symonds have before he's dropped from the Australian test team?
*Apparently some of the recently arrested 'terrorists' "spoke of killing the PM" - haven't we all?
*Seriously though, when can we have a change of government in Australia? I'm sick of the increasing strength in the Australian dollar, and I'd really love it to crash so that my GBP is worth something. This is insane! Get Labour in power, there's no surer way to fuck up the economy and bring the Australian Rupee back to how it should be.
*News article "Snowy hydro sale plan worries Brumby" - does anyone else find this funny? Where's Clancy? Is Tom Burlinson gearing up for another movie on the basis of this? I need to know these things!
*Nauru is fighting to save having it's only Airplane from being repossessed as they are behind on their payments. Does hilarity have no bounds? Surely this is the perfect time for Australia to step in and trade them some payments for them housing some of our troublesome population?! "Nauruan Government Officials could not be contacted late yesterday" - Perhaps we can help them out with their phone bill, too.
*The Romans managed to bring infrastructure to Bath almost 2000 years ago, and yet even now the streets of London stink and there's refuse (and not just antipodeans) laying everywhere.... you'd think some lessons would be learnt?!
*'The Office' is the best TV series I've seen for quite awhile, but then again, it doesn't get any better than Slough, really, it doesn't.

Travis who???

In round 1, 1984, Gary Ablett made his senior debut for the Cats, and those of us there were wondering how some midfielder had captured our imagination more than Mark Jackson, who booted 9 goals that day. Not only did Ablett give us Geelong supporters real hope, but he pretty much guarenteed that most of us had the famous number 5. Since Ablett's retirement, noone has pulled on the number 5 down at Kardinia Park (and it'll always be Kardinia for us), and it's pretty much the way we like it. Aside from Nate or Junior pulling it on, it should be retired, not to be given to some young muppet called Travis Varcoe. Sorry Trav, you're probably a good lad and maybe some day you'll be good enough to do well in the AFL, but not wearing a number 5.

Hopefully I'll be wrong, and Travis Varcoe will be the 'next big thing', but I get the distinct impression that this is going to end very ugly and that I'm going to be enraged further, particularly when Travis plays his first game and someone refers to him as 'an excitement machine'.

It can only end badly.

News from the homeland...

For most part, I enjoy being ignorant, and for those of you that know me, this will not come as too much of a surprise, but recently I've actually checked the news once or twice every few weeks, and since I'm now living in the UK, it seems only natural that I would concentrate on what is happening in Australia, since it's obviously the most relevant.

However, after having read that Jelena Dokic was 43.9% welcome to play for Australia again, I bypassed the Australian news, because - quite frankly - such lunacy makes me angry. Not as angry as Leigh Colbert, but seething with rage, nonetheless. As such, I was news-derived-rage free for a short period of time, until I recently heard about the riots in Sydney. Initially, I thought that it was going to Redferne kicking off, or some latte sipping Bondi natives attacking Manly beach in a jealous rage. But when the real reason was revealed to me, I literally punched my desk.

I have very strong objections to this kind of behaviour, and if these people (and by 'these people', I'm referring to all the rioters) cannot live within the framework of our country, then they can just fuck right off. If you're against Australia, two words - fuck off! Go back to your 'homelands' or - if you're some redneck hillybilly Australian, then you should be sent to either Maralinga, or Moe. There should be no place for these people.

Perhaps - and I'm just thinking out loud here - we should send them all to Nauru. I had a mate that once lived there, and he turned out OK. Hmmr. Or if we can't send them to Nauru, how about some real Reality TV?! Leb & Redneck Running Man! And what's more, I'm completely serious about this. Not only would we soon sort out our 'racial issues' but we'd generate enough television revenue to be able to counsel our entire population.

Happy days.

Jelena Dokic

I was checking out the Herald-Sun website (mainly because I can't understand the big words 'The Age' uses) and I noticed there was an internet poll. The question was;

"Are you happy for Jelena Dokic to play for Australia again?"

I was stunned!

Not only did I wake up my house-mates screaming, 'NO FUCKING WAY!' but I started shaking, shaking violently.

Obviously, I voted no!

I then checked the results. Has the country gone mad? 43.9% of voters are happy for her to. Read that sentence again (and not merely for the amusement value of my grammar)!

This is like Hitler lobbing up in Tel-Aviv and having 27% of the Jewish population give him the thumbs up for residency. This is madness.

I'm angry now!

I'm grateful, however, of the new drinking laws here in Britain. I think I'll join the rest of the British population, get incredibly inebriated, and fight in the streets.

Five reasons people suspect I'm gay...

I'm going to be honest here, it's been awhile between drinks, so to speak, and although I'm not referring to my tardy posting, you don't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what it is I speak of.

Anyway, I was talking to a chick at a club on Saturday night, and she asked me if I was gay, and unlike the previous time, I wasn't in the midst of an all-male orgy, so it wasn't instantaneously obvious why she'd be asking me, so I've compiled five random facts of my recent life (in no particular order) that could well shed some light onto this shocking claim/question.

1. I listened to Robbie Williams' 'Tripping' twice in a row, of my own free will.
2. My room has been neat for two weeks in a shared house.
3. I'm wearing a scarf to work these days.
4. I don't want to head to the USA for a business trip next week.
5. I had a guy say, 'And that's a good arse!' when seeing my naked rump!

Personally, I don't really understand people that think this, perhaps it's their aversion to Asparagus.

Iran...

Apparently Iran reckon that Israel should be 'wiped off the face of the earth'.

I'm so glad that Iran are trying to build a nuclear weapons program, it's these kinds of issues that make the world such a vibrant place.

Question is, what will the West do if the Israeli's decide to lay waste to Iran?

No doubt the UN will keep it all above board. ;-)

Little India...

Last year I travelled to India, and for six or so weeks, I wandered the earth, seemingly in search of Shangri La, or as truth would have it, good curries! It's fair to say that in the six weeks that I was travelling in India, I was exposed to some fascinating sights, but one thing that did 'stick out' - and is rarely written about, or discussed - was the large proportion of extremely old and ugly people there. Now don't get me wrong, I actually find many Indian women extremely attractive, but with the exception of old Aboriginals, I doubt that there are an uglier group of people in existence, apart from the in-bred, inuit or South Australian, who we all know aren't bona fide people anyway.

I bring this up due to my travel habits, at least those which include Heathrow as a transit point, and because of my enterprising spirit - or more specifically my tendency to avoid London Zone 1 at all costs - I take the worlds most convoluted travel route to get there.

From home I;

- Catch the 245 or 182 buses to Wembley Park,
- Catch the 83 bus from Wembley Park to Alperton,
- Catch the tube from Alperton to Acton Town,
- Catch the tube from Acton Town to Heathrow.

The curious thing, is that between Wembley Park and Alperton, you go through the Wembley area, and this place is dead-set Little India. Everything Indian is in abundance here, silk clothing shops, bazaars for bartering, shitloads of leather belts, poorly constructed sports bag, and the largest proportion of ugly old Indians, you'll ever have the priviledge to see. And what is it with the Indians? Do they all live to be 127 years old, or something? There needs to be a rule against this, or a cull. Yes, a cull, that's decidedly what's needed to curb the lack of transport in this area.

You see, once you hit Wembley Central station, roughly thirteen thousand Indians get on the bus, and 87.32% of these are at least 100 years old, and they have have baggy skin, impossibly skinny limbs and that look that really old people have which makes you want to scream out 'HOLY FUCK, KEEP AWAY FROM ME YOU FREAK, TAKE MY WALLET, TAKE SOMETHING, JUST GET AWAY FROM ME!'

And then I saw her.

It was one of those sights that forever change your life, like Bo Derek running towards Dudley Moore in, '10'.

It was the sight of a 143 year old Indian woman walking down the bus to me!

I could not move, breath or scream.

Time stood still, or at least I thought it did, it was merely the fact that she was 143 years old and moved slower than evolution itself, almost the speed of Brett Spinks, but moved nonetheless.

She thought that she needed a seat, and I was on the back seat of the bus, giving her a 10 meter walk, and after three minutes she had almost made it. I was truly transfixed, was this seriously happening? This 'thing' was drawing closer, and I was reminded how no-one could resist Samara Morgan, in 'The Ring'.

Bones'n'Skin was nearing ever closer, and she was trying to sit next to me, so I shielded myself from the inevitable, her old withered hand touching me, and shrank from her, leaning over to the beggar on the other side of me, somewhat uncomfortable for both of us, yet The Wraith, still managed to lay her boney hand on my leg.

'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!' i screamed silently.

And after about 15 seconds, she started to try and stand up, using my petrified leg as leverage, meaning only one thing, I had to lay the smack-down on her boney arse!

I shifted my leg, and she fell forward almost cracking her head open on the seat in front, and I was caught in one hell of a dilemma; do I a) try and stifle my laughter, or b) pretend to help? Neither seemed applicable, and to be fair, she needed the forward momentum.

Why is it that old people feel the need to touch, continue breathing or trying to sit down on a bus, particularly given the fact that they're going to get off at the next stop.

After about two minutes she got near the rear door of the bus, which coincided precisely as the bus put on the breaks, sending her careening into two 118 year old men walking in the other direction. There's comedy, high comedy, and 3 100+ Indians having a pile up in the back of a bus. Roll on forward momentum!

But after 7 minutes of walking, 30 seconds of sitting, and another two minutes untangling herself from two other unfeasibly old Indians, she'd reached her destination...the offices of Guinness Book of Records, I guess.

Late night calls....

Although I'm not Bill Bryson, I still feel that I have enough experience to dispense travel advice, and given the occurrances on my recent trip to Spain, I feel that I am qualified to dispense it now.

1. When - in an inebriated state - you return to your hotel at ~4:00AM, do not make international calls to Australia,
2. If you do make calls to Australia, be sure to keep the duration to a period less than 40 minutes,
3. During said calls, be sure to address the fundamental rationale that precipitated the call,
4. Be assured that if you use lines similar to "We're here in Spain, you're not - you c*nt!!!" and repeat it 5-10 times, it can eventually become far more hilarious than possibly imagined...well if you're a witness to the events unfolding, it is.

England Infidelity!

Fair play to England, they played well. I'll get stuck into the insipid Australians later....

But for now, a quick question. What does Andrew Flintoff's wife have to say about the fact that Kevin Pietersen is fucking her husband? Fair dinkum, do you see Pietersen with anyone except Flintoff?

Dirty Saffa Homo!

Random Quote

"Leicester Square : Busy place!" -- DJD

I love Neasden

Today, at around 5PM, there were a roar of sirens outside of our office in Wembley, which represented the combined caucophany of approximately 8 police vehicles heading somewhere. The thing is, this is London and you soon become accustomed to the sounds of sirens here.

*****

On the way home from work, I caught the bus, and the traffic was horrendous which was well out of order considering it was in-bound London traffic.

*****

We turn towards Neasden's main street and find the reason for the congestion. Police cars, and lots of them....

There's a gunman in the main street, and police have cordoned off the area.

Neasden - I love this town!

Strangely, I'm less perturbed than I should be.