- This project is going forward.
- Hmmm this sounds like front page of the Dom Post Material....
- Is it morning tea time yet?
- I just had a call from a journalist panicking about……
- I'll have to consult with legal before we can go forward.
- Yes, Minister
- Is it afternoon tea yet?
- What no sausage rolls?
- This meeting cannot go forward until the sausage rolls arrive.
- What no sauce?
I must be a genetic thing cause my bro did exactly the same thing - slept in, missed his train and didn't make it either. I didn't even know he was gonna be there, and neither did he me. Wierd, had I known maybe i'd have made more effort to get there but at 8am when I was having a wee spit I felt like dying and so crawled back into bed.
8 paracetamol , 1 berocca type product, 1 V and a shower later the killer hangover is disapating. Thank crikey, I aint had one like this for ages. I probably only had like 10 beers as well - this over all about 8 hours. Maybe this is a sign of advancing years.... I hope not, i'm still a spring chicken really. Hmm breasts..maybe I'll have KFC for lunch.
So we're off and racing today with the Cox Plate - go Xcellent. Kick that Divas but and bring us home some Cox. Heh, JJ said cox.
And we're also off to see Electric Six tonight. Its gonna rock. Danger! Danger! High voltage! etc etc etc
Meh, bring on the quarter pack.
So like I'm da big REM fan and was listening to Green earlier… when I realised I'd misheard a lyric and I had done so like, forever. In the song Stand I thought the line was 'if fishes were trees, the trees would be falling". Kinda weird imagery but that's Micheal Stipe for you. He's always toying with weird word ideas and making interesting connections and juxapostions of ideas, even if you have no idea what he's on about.
The true line is 'if wishes were trees, the trees would be falling' which kinda makes more sense in the context of the song. I prefer my version any way…
I'll start off with saying this. Diet Coke is for girls. Even that Dayffd chap from Little Britain has real Coke.
Diet anything is for girls. Thus having maintained my man card carrying status I can continue….
So like I've been trying to get my sticky fingers on 10 grand the easy way by consuming the liquid offerings of the world's worst teeth rotting, nail rusting, sugar craving sating brand, Coke. Or rather Diet Coke. Diet Coke is offering 10 grand on a credit card instantly if u find the right bottle cap. I figure I've drank more diet coke in the last week Steinlager tyring to win. Which is kinda hard to believe really…
Obviously I haven't won the 10 grand. I wouldn't be sitting here if I had. I'd be drinking Steinlager at the Feathers if I had. I type lots don't I?
So like are there other people out there who have switched from the supersaturated with white death products of Coke and V products (me) to Diet Coke in the hope of a small matter of 10K like me? And if so is the reduction in sugar making me/them more healthy? Is Coke and my/NZers greed to win 10K ironically making us skinnier and therefore healthier? If so real real Coke should be banned. Or taxed. Hey! That's a great idea Jimmy - lets tax all food that's bad for us....... *
That is of course only true if drinking diet coke is good for you in the first place. I have my doubts.
My usual breakfast is a V, and bless Frucor , its packed with 190kJ per 100 ml serving. Or 11.2g of carbohydrates per 100ml which is all sugar (I think). Who needs soggy weet-bix when u can suck down on a V or Coke. Today's nutritionless brekkie was Diet Coke, packing a pussy amount of 1.5kJ and 0.1g of carbs. Needless to say my intended effect of Diet Coke is shite and by 10am I went had had a proper teeth rotting V.
The World XI batting line-up – is this best team ever assembled in terms of averages? 6 of them have averages of over 50. 5 of those are over 54. Nine players of that team have at least two centuries to their name for a total of 126 centuries between them. Has that ever happened before? I'd email The Numbers Guy at Cricinfo but well that would be just too tryhard...
Man I am so tired. Last night me and a dude we'll call Mr Tony Soprano decided 2 have a few beers at Blend. This slowly turned into a bender of brown beers. And when Jay Bee turned up it was game on. After hearing exciting number crunching stories from an accountant, drunken slurs from a design student who smelled like she'd puked her fair share of the free bubbly and an amusing police bust incident from a former cop we kicked on an visited a few bars round town - Vespa Lounge still does the best GLL in town.
LSS I am freakin tired. I don't think I have had more than 7 hours of sleep any night this week. Its not the late nights it's the early matins. I have bags under my eyes bigger than Kirstie Alley. She might just be prettier, though it would be a tough call. She'd probably have to have a shave to make it certain.
I note too, Levi was excited enuff to blog (just for me?) on it – some where). Shine on you crazy diamond. Or rather, slowly walk down the hall getting high on the lemonade of which your dreams are made while you slide away or just roll with it or … or something similarly paraphrasical. Yes, that's write Consumer Whore, I made up a word. Again. Incidentally, Fuck the Herald.
NE ways I mentioned somewhere on this lil blog that the album in Q(uestion) Don't Believe the Truth is a brilliant album. I don't need Q to tell me this but the confirmation that supposedly cool people out there know Oasis are still 'like a bomb' is somewhat heartening… considering most of you out there seem to hate Oasis… I bet the South Pacific Floral Wonder comments as such… or maybe not…
Our Kid's Big Big Brother was quoted as saying:
"It was a change to not get the token Live Act award for being able to play the guitar...Best Album, nice one."
Which is ironicish (there's another new word) cos Noel once said something like awards only matter if come from the fans. i.e. awards from the wanky music industry types itself don't count. But today is almost like, whatever. Geddit? Whatever? Levi will at least.
In accepting the ummm, glory? from such Q(uarters), maybe Noel is getting old and tiring of drinking Bonehead's supersonic gin and tonics. What's the story? I guess this is what happens when you stop taking drugs like they were 'a cup of tea in the morning'....
After a shower and a shave I'm wandering down the hill in the freakin rain. I'm feeling half human but its quiet and there's no one around. I throw a rock in the air, I don't hit some1. Its like I'm Bruno Lawrence in the Quiet Earth or something. The freakin twilight zone is about to take effect or something. I half-pie expect my mouth to close over a la that show or a la Matrix ripp off. Where's all the peeps?
I get to the bus stop. There is life but not as I know it. A short woman with blonde hair stands shortly before me. Instead of the usual 30 peeps such as Lawyer Guy and Wonder Woman it's this stranger. What's that about stranger danger? Is there a plague I don't know about? I wonder. I'd talk to Blonde but she isn't offering sweeties and I'm afraid of catching Ebola or something that Dustan Hoffman can't cure in time for work.
I decide to buy a paper to see about the Black Death. The Dairy Dude says 'morning, JJ its a bit early for you isn't it?' I mutter something like 'glad ur alive bro'. And then the penny drops. So I pick up my change off the floor and wander outside.
Blonde is still there all by herself. The paper says nothing about the Black Death but there's a picture of Rachel Hunter in it so I suspect I could have woken up in Hell. Summoning bravery of Aslan like proportions I say,
'Morning dollface, what's the time?'
'Bout 6.15' shes says.
'Dam!' says I.
I was up 2 hours early.
So like some smart* chick has been running round some town claiming to be Tana Umaga's sister and duping a taxi company into free rides. U can find the story on the NZ Herald site and a cool picture of a python with eyes bigger than his head. I'd link but it's a hassle apparently...
Ne ways – this impersonation reminded me of a feeble I attempted about 3 or 4 years ago. JJ Murphy's bar had recently opened in Cuba Street. The usual and then recent Wellington immigrants/suspects and I were there, lagered up, aled and ginned up, as usual. Probably barred up as well but that's another story.
So iizatdabar about to order a drink and I spy with my lil eye a certain tasty beverage beginning with the letter S.
Says I "A steiny thanks, mate"
The Good Barkeep "Sorry mate, we don't sell that here, JJ Murphy's is a DB bar we cannot sell Steinlager or Lion Products by contract. How about a Celtic Red?"
Says I "Yes yous all do – their there" and I points at 'em.
GB "Oh those are the owner's….."
SI "Well I'm the owner's son!"
GB "Yeah? What's your name then?"
Slightly bemused GB "Piss off mate!!!!"
SI "I'll have a Celtic Red, then thanks"
*till she got caught.
In some crazy way I feel Oprah owes us all big time for unleashing this madness.