Melbourne (mL-born) (proper noun): 1. Very interesting city. For antonyms, see: Perth, Alice Springs, New Zealand

Well, on Friday at 6.10am, Courtney and I jet-set for Melbourne, flying Virgin Blue from the tin sheds known as Adelaide Airport. So obviously there's not going to be any posts on here for a week until we get back. HOWEVER:
-We get back on Friday 3rd February, and I'll likely go to Skycity in the evening to catch up with everyone. GO!
-If you're nice, I might get you something at the Queen Vic Markets...stay tuned =P
-TRAMS! =D
-Got To Get You Into My Life, by The Beatles, is an awesome song. Just so you know.
-And I miss everyone, cos I haven't caught up in a bazillion years. Or something.

Speaking of catching up, I FINALLY caught up with Kel last night; she came round and we listened to Billy Connolly. BAHAHA, Norwegian. Tip: when in Norway, never order a cup of tea.

Coke. Believe it. Wow, that should be the new Coke slogan.

Maybe sometime soon Pat and I will record more songs. Here's hoping my throat's better this time than last!

Suffer Well, by Depeche Mode: cool AS.

Welcome back RAF! Yes, our favourite air force acronym is back!

S.I.G., Bodie.-

Juan Ignacio Chela: All-Australian-Argentine Hero

Thank Argentina for Juan Ignacio Chela, the tennis player who KNOCKED LLEYTON HEWITT OUT OF THE AUSTRALIAN OPEN! WOOOOOOOOOOO! PARTY PARTY PARTY! =D

Melbourne soon! Eagerly awaiting this trip. Joyous!

Regulation smash

So, with my tonsilitis gone (yay!) I am back to drinking Coke and eating normal food. Thank you Maxamox, you've not only cured my evil throat, but shown me that I am allergic to penicillin. Whooptedoo.
So what's new?
THE AUSTRALIAN OPEN!!!
I love tennis. Unless I have to play. Then I hate it. But who's important at the Australian Open this year? Let's see...

ROGER FEDERER

Roger is a dood. Really, he is. He's the best tennis player in the world at the moment. I'm not lying, look at the ATP rankings. Pat Rafter says only vintage Pete Sampras at the height of his game would give Federer trouble when he's at his best, and I agree. He's also Swiss. This means that his tennis racquet also contains a corkscrew, a nail file, and a thing for taking stones out of horses' hooves.
When not playing tennis, Roger does what all good Swiss do: he eats cheese, looks at his bank account and wears a Rolex. Or something.

ANDY RODDICK

Despite his unfortunate, doubly-phallic surname, Andy Roddick is also a dood. Strangely, he is an American (which may account for the dodgy nickname A-Rod that the media's given him), but we won't hold that against him. He's a funny guy; he towels himself down after every press conference. Think of it...a Yank with a sense of humour. That's a new one. Lost to Hewitt last year, which caused much wailing and gnashing of teeth. No, sorry, that was Hewitt during the game. You know how he carries on...

LLEYTON HEWITT

There's no nice way to put this. Lleyton Hewitt is a dick. We all know it. "C'MON!!!", he screams, and we all hope that the umpire will throw his chair at him. After he became world #1, his biggest claim to fame was starring in an ad that had him stuck in a toilet without any paper. This simply proves that he is full of...anyway, he's a moron, but he's the commentators' pet. John Alexander nicknamed him "Lay-lay", which makes him sound like a cheap Thai hooker. Which he may be. Watch out for his most used (cheap) shot: the loud complaint.

TIM HENMAN

Loaded with talent, Tim has the uncanny ability to do nothing with it. Has looked promising many a time during a tournament, but always fails. You'd think that, given his surrendering skills, he was French, but no, he's from Ol' Blightey. That's England, for those not in the know. Most English think he's their darling, which just about sums up England's sporting prowess of recent years.

MARIA SHARAPOVA

Maria is a great tennis player. She tends to scream, but we'll let that slide because she's Russian. Noted for having diamond teardrops in her runners, she lobs, smashes, volleys, serves and backhands with the best of them, which is lucky because she is, in fact, the best. Also, she's quite attractive. Not that I notice these things, of course...

JUSTINE HENIN-HARDENNE

For a long time, the diminuitive Ms Henin-Hardenne was not very interesting or noteworthy, which is fitting as she comes from Belgium. Honestly, name five famous Belgians. Hercule Poirot doesn't count, and nor does a chocolate brand. Luckily for her and her compatriots, she suddenly found fabulous form at the same time as countrywoman Kim Clijsters, who our press all thought was Australian because of going out with "Lay-Lay" Hewitt, but after she broke up with him they decided she was, after all, Belgian.

LINDSAY DAVENPORT

Not particularly interesting and looks vaguely like a cocker spaniel, but Ms Davenport can certainly play tennis, and she's also quite nice to people, which is why we like her. Is #1 at the moment, and doesn't scream as much as others. *cough* Williams sisters *cough*. Also, as she is the only American female player of note who is not a Williams sister, any Yankophile will go for her. Unless they're weird. Or Oracene Williams. Wait, I already said "weird"...

JELENA DOKIC

She of the fluid nationality has returned to Australia, and not a moment too soon, because our female tennis talent has gone down the gurgler. Unfortunately, so has hers. Her major claim to fame is her father, who looks like a bear and probably smells like a dead one. Started in Yugoslavia, came here, dad swore at everyone, went to Serbia, came back here...it's a wonder she even knows where she is now. Or maybe she doesn't. That could be the reason for her lacklustre first-round exit.

SERENA WILLIAMS

"YEEEEEEEEEARRRRRRGH!!!!!!"
No, it's not the ear-splitting cry of King Kong, but the far more ear-splitting shriek of his protege, Serena Williams. Lacking manners, poise, grace or any form of fashion sense (BRIGHT PINK?!), Ms Williams has been top of the pile in women's tennis for a while, but has recently been less of a force to be reckoned with. Most people are very glad that, unlike her sister, her breasts have always remained firmly covered. Most people think she's too masculine to be in the women's comp. I call her "Bubba".

So there we have it, folks. Enjoy the next two weeks of tennis!!

Eskimo.-

Anyone can see the road that they walk on is paved in gold

Oh, Patriqu would be so proud of that title...

Well, the past few days have been ludicrously poor. I came down with what I thought was a mild sore throat on Thursday, and it got worse on Friday. No matter, I thought, sore throats go away pretty quickly. But it got even worse on Saturday, which meant we made a beeline for the pharmacy to get me something to kill it.
We got:

1. Betadine Atomic Nuclear Holocaust-type gargle (for annihilating bacteria and anything short of a horse)
2. Nurofen Plus painkillers (a step down from Valium...but not by much...)

I was pretty confident that soon I'd be ultra happy and glad cos my throat would be 115% fine. But the Betadine only succeeded in tasting terrible and making me gag, and the Nurofen didn't last long enough. Nor did they knock me out, which by this stage was a worry, because I hadn't slept longer than two and a half hours per night since Thursday.
By Sunday night I wasn't able to swallow at all and I was in absolute agony, so mum called for a locum. Doctor Mike Hill-Ling had one look down my throat and said "Hmm, nasty case of tonsilitis, that."
So I'm now on antibiotics that are the size of a small car, with dire warnings about overdoses and side-effects and strict orders to "Take one every twelve hours." I don't think I'll argue or complain, though...since I finally got on to them yesterday, I've slept about nine hours and can actually swallow. Huzzah.

In the interim, Patriqu and I recorded Vampires on Saturday, which was excellent from Pat's guitar point of view, but atrocious from my singing side. I really can't sing. Especially with tonsilitis.

Nothing else has happened much, owing to aforementioned illness. But today, for the first time since Saturday, I'm LISTENING TO MUSIC, which I couldn't do because of my ears hurting too much. Go Fastball!! Also, Kaiser Chiefs. But mostly Fastball.
As if such talented people could come from Texas...

HUMAN TORCH
Turned 'round 6 o'clock and I'm still sleepin'
I don't have to work on Saturday
But I do anyway
'Round the corner right on up to the shop
I come creeping, but it don't matter anyway

'Cause I know it's just as well
And even so I feel like hell
You can say that it's alright
But I am wrapped up tight
And I can see the forest through the trees
I am on my knees
I don't know if I am supposed to stay
Or I'm supposed to leave it all behind

The door the world outside still spins
Waiting there behind the door but I won't let it in
Not today, not tomorrow, not next week
You're just gonna have to pay five bucks to see the geek

'Cause I know it's just as well
And even so I feel like hell
You can say that it's alright
But I am wrapped up tight
And I can see the forest through the trees
I am on my knees
I don't know if I am supposed to stay
Or I'm supposed to leave it all behind

Please pay your attention high above the center ring
Up in the rafters, 500 feet above the crowd
My hair is soaked in kerosene
My clothes are wet with gasoline
You only get to see this once
The human torch is going down
Going down, going down, going down

Sail sail sail BOOM walk bang bang bang BOOM: the art of AOE3

Okay, so this is what happened when Paddy and I played against some random Age of Empires III guy...I have the red navy, he has the yellow howitzer cannons. Basically he thought that by having 35 or so howitzers on his shoreline, we couldn't get close to his island...

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

So what does this tell us? That I should never be allowed near MSN's paint utility thing, and that at 23:30 I am very bored.

I predict a riot

Well well well, 2006 is pretty the same, really. Bad news, occasional good news, great people, crap people.

So let's have a look at the world.
2005's biggest-selling albums in the entire world were:

1. The Emancipation of Mimi: Mariah Carey
2. The Massacre: 50 Cent
3. Encore: Eminem
   
4. American Idiot: Green Day
5. Breakaway: Kelly Clarkson
6. Love. Angel. Music. Baby.: Gwen Stefani
7. Destiny Fulfilled: Destiny's Child
8. How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb: U2
9. Greatest Hits: Shania Twain
10. Feels Like Today: Rascal Flatts

Good to see that Green Day and, yes, U2, got in there, or else we'd be despairing that no music actually got into the top 10 music list for the year. It's a worry. Also thanks go to everyone who didn't buy the Black Eyed Peas or Crazy Frog.

In the US recently, 12 miners lost their lives in an unexplained explosion and subsequent carbon monoxide poisoning, after the company told loved ones that 12 out of the 13 missing had been found alive and well. Much will be written about this in the media and various blogs worldwide, so let me just say that this is a tragedy and a disgrace. Stay tuned.

Listening to the Kaiser Chiefs at the moment, as well as Fastball and the Libertines. Special thanks to Courtney for getting me into Kaiser Chiefs and Libertines, and Paddy for getting me into Fastball. All are very very cool.

MELBOURNE SOON! =D

Welcome to 2006. Exits are to your immediate left and right.

I want to relate to you a story of New Year's Eve and Morning. It's a story of how one night can bring out the worst in people, as well as the best.

Courtney and I decided to celebrate New Years in this manner:
a. Go to Marion and watch Narnia in Gold Class style.
b. Leave Marion on a bus to Glenelg.
c. Walk from Glenelg beach to Brighton, to go to Ali and Tom's sexy NY party.
d. Take the train from Brighton to Adelaide and the bus home, after fireworks et al.

Narnia, it turns out, is a kick-arse movie. Maybe there were a couple of deficiencies in the children actors, but then, we must remember that it is set in a very different time, when children were naturally geeky (hehe)...just watch some old films with British kids in them and you'll know what I mean. We enjoyed it immensely. But then we needed to bus our way from Marion.
While waiting for our bus, we met the first drunks of the night. There was a guy with a shaved head and a high-pitched voice, drinking from a 2L Coke bottle. Evidently, it wasn't Coke.
He began by squeaking some unintelligible drivel at me. So I ignored him.
"Merry fuck'n New Year", he said eventually.
"Happy New Year", I answered, trying to keep a smile on my face.
"Damn fuck'n straight", he squealed.
With him was a child of certainly no more than 11 years, also drinking from a Coke bottle. But when he came over to us, we could SMELL that there was far more in there than Coke.
Previously, he asked some other people for a lighter. He asked us for "two bucks for a bus ticket". We declined, and moved away.
Soon, the bus came, and it was soon flooded with drunks. Note: you're not fooling anyone with bottles of "Coke" that either:
a. stink like holy hell of scotch, or
b. look very pale, rather like lager or other beers.
Our bus driver somehow managed to convince them that they should get on another, very overcrowded but allegedly faster bus heading for Glenelg. Kudos to her. She put up with a lot...a few guys were going to take their pants off for the point of getting it out. We decided we should bypass Glenelg. Instead we got off in Brighton somewhere and proceeded to Brighton Jetty, where we then got gelati and walked to Ali's.

Ali's was fun. There were lots of people in various stages of happy inebriation, and it was a good way to spend New Year's Eve: in the company of great friends. Thanks to Ali and Tom for hosting. But I'm not finished thanking you yet.

After this, we went to the station to board the 01:15 train. This was bursting with many smashed people. Opposite us was a woman who looked 30+ but was actually 19, and younger than Courtney (which just proves how great Courtney looks), who wouldn't shut up about how she got engaged at five minutes past 12, and showing off her ring. Good for her. But I'm not finished with her either...
Just behind us was a girl who was obviously in need of serious help, which we only realised when we heard her so-called "friends" yelling at her to "get of the fucking train!!!" Hair a mess, clothes in various stages of rippage, eyes bloodshot red, with mascara-blackened tears bleeding down her cheeks, her mouth perpetually open in a wail of despair, pain or drug-dulled nothingness. Even from our seat we could smell the alcohol on her, but she had evidently been into more than just alcohol...speed, ecstacy, acid, who knows. All that matters is that she was in a severe state of breakdown resulting either from too many illicit substances or the mixing of alcohol with drugs.
While her "friends" continued yelling at her, and she wailed back in response, it became clear that the train wasn't going anywhere until she disembarked. Surprisingly, it was a bald-headed, bearded, shirtless tattooed biker-looking guy who was the most sensible of everyone and realised she needed help, and he found the driver to tell him to call an ambulance, proof positive of the old adage that you cannot judge a book by its cover. Another woman, who had called Courtney an "angel" (hence, I like this woman), was trying her very best to get the girl's companions to "shut the fuck up and get your fucking friend some fucking help!", which might not win any awards for the most stirring speech of all time, but was called for nonetheless.
Unfortunately, the fifty-plus drunks in our carriage did not share her view. They began shouting and swearing at the woman, the topless biker, the driver and the girl herself, for the girl to get off the train and let them continue to more alcohol-fuelled fun closer to town. If they'd had their way they'd have grabbed her and thrown her on to the tracks, her wellbeing be damned. When the driver tried to help the girl, EngagedGirl wouldn't let anyone pass without demanding they look at her new ring and listen to her story about being proposed to at 12:05. Fights, both verbal and physical, broke out, and Courtney's distress at this, not to mention my own, compelled us to leave and return to Tom and Ali's.
It was something Courtney said to me on our way back to Ali's that made me really think. She said: "How can people be like that? How could they be so awful? She could have been dying and they didn't care!" And this made me realise two things. The first is that humanity is not noble in the least. There is no saving grace for people as a whole. Sure, everyone talks about these high-and-mighty ideals of peace and goodwill to all, but, when faced with the dilemma of a stranger's health and continued life versus more booze sooner, the latter invariably wins. It is not the majority of humanity that is virtuous, merely a minority. And this leads me to the second point.
We returned to Seaview Terrace, and immediately that Tom saw something was wrong, he went out of his way to make Courtney and I comfortable while he sought out water and tissues and anything else to calm down Courtney, who was distraught at what had happened. Other people, even ones I don't even know (eg. Lemmey, I think, who talked to me about Green Day), were kind and supportive, and as always, Kel was good for a big hug for the both of us.
So what is my second point? It is this: though there are relatively few people who are genuinely good, I am glad to say that all of my friends are part of this minority. The fact that we can be shocked and saddened by such awfulness on the part of others shows that we are, in a way, innocent, in the best way.

So what do we learn from this? Simply, that with people like Courtney, Tom, Ali, Kel, EmO, and many more who I won't name because the list would take up half this blog entry, there's hope for us yet.

Enter 2006. May it bring all of you the best of luck.
B.-