Day-to-day events and activities.
I just got a phone call on a horrible line from London. Lou’s not back until Friday morning now. I’m depressed.
This is already probably my busiest week of semester just for uni and now Lou’s coming back at the busiest end of the week (instead of the beginning, where I’ll have more time). I’m not sure if I’ll even have time to see her until Sunday. How fucking annoying.
Suicide Girls is owned by a right winger who treats women like shit.
I’ve never been all that in to Suicide Girls, so this makes me feel more justified.
On other fronts: my project is moving slowly. So am I. It’s going to be taking a huge dump on top of my face in the next few weeks and I’m sure I’ll be grinding away for hours on end at something fascinating, like required outputs from a test file parser.
I must also get to work on performing a financial analysis on a fictional business for my “management accounting concepts” course by this time next week. Hurrah for stimulation.
I wish I wasn’t so lazy, but then, if I wasn’t lazy I wouldn’t be me. Whether to take that as a positive or not is up to you.
Last Sunday I played my first game of actionball. It’s basically netball but with some additions from indoor soccer, namely the fact that you can bounce the ball off the fencing around the court and use the fencing behind the ring to shoot “off the backboard”, as it were. There’s only 5 a side, too, I believe.
It was quite fun. It’s very fast paced (for someone who is as unfit as I am) and fortunately I only had to play for half the game, in rotating quarters. We even won, which was nice. This whole week my leg and arse muscles have been killing me and I can barely lift my legs up to move. It’s that “good pain” that people talk about. I’ve felt it before, many times over the years, as each sporting season begins. It’s never good. Why do people persist with the lies? Tell me.
A nice man from RailCorp is coming to my flat today to put more hardware in the server that I “acquired” from their offices. This should be interesting. I think I’ll have to sweep the floors a bit and wipe up all the fucking milk drop stains that Scott likes to leave on the wooden kitchen floor.
Oh yeah, Benecke and Byrne dropped by on Saturday for a quiet one. We watched Tromeo and Juliet whilst downing a couple of KBs. The next day, Benecke didn’t have his phone on and had stayed at his girlfriend’s place overnight. His mum got quite worried when he hadn’t come home or called to say where he was and started a phone call spree that resulted in me telling the truth as I saw it occur the night before versus Byrne lying about what happened trying to cover for Benecke as he assumed his mum didn’t know he’d had a girlfriend for 3 months and had been sleeping there on numerous occasions.
In the end it was all sorted out and I get the impression Benecke lost his balls to his mother’s fury. I think his upcoming 12 month expedition to France will only become more welcome in his own eyes after that.
I’m visiting my old mate Harris this Thursday night. He’s said he’ll cook a steak for me. The offer of a home-cooked dinner from some guy I went to school with and haven’t seen in years is both welcoming and a little odd. I suppose I can’t really comment on anyone seeming odd, though. It just sounds funny to get a call from a guy you’ve almost lost contact with and he says “come over to my place on Thursday night and I’ll give you some hot steak”. Undoubtedly, I’ll be there.
Mum has declared that she is coming here this Saturday with dad to “spring clean” the apartment. While I welcome the offer of free and thorough house cleaning, it’s going to be a little bit weird that she’ll be cleaning out everything in the place that I’ve lived in for nearly a year now while I’m at work. Never mind. It’ll be shiny!
Lou returns on Tuesday morning. I’ll have to make sure I have a somewhat early night on Monday so that I’m able to wake up and get to the airport to pick her up at the ungodly hour of 7:50am. Now that her return is imminent, it feels like it’s taking forever. Admittedly, the last 4-and-a-bit months felt as though they have progressed quickly, so maybe it’s just time evening itself out.
Next Saturday is a big day on many calendars. Partly due to the majority of female parents who become up the duff during Christmas and New Year. About 4 people I can think of off the top of my head are having birthday parties and another guy is coming back to Australia after spending a year and a half abroad. Good old ringo. I think he’ll be in for a surprise when he sees the current state of the gaming scene. Nonetheless, things should get a bit more interesting now that he’s back.
Fark. My feet hurt, too.
My latest violent addiction has been a manga titled Berserk. After playing the game based on the comic months ago on Scott’s Dreamcast, we finally managed to see the anime series. Last weekend we watched all 25 episodes back-to-back.
Unbelievably hyped up about how good it was, I spent some time trying to obtain the entire manga (comic book) series. The manga has been running since 1989 and is only up to the 30th volume out of (apparently) 50. The anime only covered volumes 4-13, so there was plenty more to catch up on.
Well, now I’m in withdrawals, as I’ve just read all of the available chapters from the 30 volumes. Now that I’m up to date, I have to wait for each release as they come. :(
Now I have to watch through Fruits Basket with Scott, too. I don’t think that one is completed either (at least the manga isn’t). Damn it, nothing I like has any closure!
It’s kind of good having some things to be following again, though. It’s only a few more weeks until Smallville starts up again, too.
It still bums me out that I have to wait for each installment. Boo.
Saw Nine Inch Nails tonight at the Hordern with and Tommy/orchard. I thought it was tops. Trent played most of his old hits and the “people’s favourites”. I was most impressed. There was no encore, but there weren’t any popular songs left to play in an encore anyway, so no one seemed to look disappointed.
The warm up/support band was fucking horrendous. As fucking usual. What’s with support acts being completely shithouse? The only time I’ve seen support acts I like was when The Drugs played before TISM (but the act before them was bad) and when the Spazzys and Butterfingers (but the Spazzys were better) played before Machine Gun Fellatio. Every other concert I’ve been to has had not only forgettable, but painful support acts. These pricks tonight didn’t even say hello or goodbye. They didn’t say who they were either. I don’t think anyone even knew who they were, let alone care.
Afterwards we walked back to the flat by foot, after wandering around Moore Park trying to decide whether to bus or taxi our way back. Now my feet are sore after about 90 minutes worth of walking. At least we didn’t get the bus back. On the way there I got abused by some shit-eating bus driver for only having a $10 note to pay for my fare. I already felt bad because I know they find it irritating (which I think is pretty lame that they do, but I tried to play along like a good commuter). I even dug out 60 cents in change for the $1.60 fare, so that it was nice and rounded out for him. My efforts were in vain as he gave me a death stare while I apologised for not having anything smaller. “That’s what they all say,” he said. He went on to tell me I should have prepared earlier and had smaller change available. I told him I didn’t have time to go and get change because I was in a hurry, since I had a bus to catch and all. What a fucker. Scott noticed he didn’t have his license/registration displayed in the appropriate slot either, so I was tempted to make a complaint and nail the bastard well and good, but I can’t be stuffed.
Huw’s having his buck’s night tomorrow. I’m going to meet up with them after work. I’ll probably only be able to make it to have a beer or two and watch the rugby and then hit some karaoke den for a bit of vocal chord action. I’m scared.
As some of you may be aware (hopefully), I let my facial hair grow. I don’t know if you’d really call it a beard since I trim it back with hair clippers on the zero setting each Saturday. By the end of the week it’s long-ish, so I guess you would call it a beard after all.
I often don’t bother using razors to shave, since I can just keep all the growth even and maintained easily enough with my weekly routine. Occasionally I’ll have to actually shave and shape my beard. Like all men, I hate shaving.
Two years ago I bought myself some quasi-fancy Gilette blade. I think it’s a Mach 3. That razor and the three included spare razors have lasted me until now. No, I don’t shave that often.
Deciding to be cheap (and not wanting to fork out $10-20 for more razor heads) I went with a small $5 pack of disposable Gilette razors. The quality differentiation is painfully obvious, as I found this morning. I completely forgot how bad disposable razors actually are.
I’ll be saving up some money then getting my new Mach 3 blades. I suppose $10 for 2 years worth of shaving isn’t so bad.
I don’t know if anyone’s noticed, but I deliberately only use 1 word in my subjects for each entry. Only a couple of early entries defy this format. Fascinating.
I’ve been out at a Winesoc dinner and I’ve decided to write something. I think that (like most people) I open up more under the influence of alcohol and speak about more interesting things. Unfortunately there’s also the trade off of being lazier, so it doesn’t guarantee that I’ll actually say anything more in-depth or interesting that the usual boring bullshit I usually post.
So, what can I reveal to all of the 2 or so people that actually take interest in what I write here that is somewhat ground-breaking? Well, let’s see… There’s plenty of things I could say, but they’d probably be incriminating and come back to ruin my life within a few years. Fortunately I’ve always been self-aware enough to know when to hold back, even under the influence of alcohol. ;) Don’t worry, it’s nothing illegal.
I met a gamer tonight, one that I actually know/have played against/remember. That was pretty cool. I told him we should meet up during semester and drink a few beers and the like. He seemed genuinely interested and that’s enough for me. Did you notice I’ve changed tangent? Yes, I open up but still not too much. It’s more fun being a prick tease. Oh yes.
I hope all my effort at typing is paying off. It’s hard to hit the right keys, even with my awe-inspiring touch typing skills. Being a good typist makes me feel like a big man. I remember it always used to impress people whenever they saw me typing on computers at school and elsewhere. It’s like an extended e-penis but without the e… Although, it had something else instead of the e, so it wasn’t just an extended penis. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Geez. I’m starting to get dizzy and tired. I have to be up at like 7:30 am. That’s only 5 hours away. I wanted to bum a cigarette off Chandler tonight, so I could have a cigarette with coffee tomorrow afternoon. I’ve heard quite a few times that those two drugs seem to go well together, even though I can’t imagine it. I forgot to steal a dart though, so it’ll just have to be coffee on its own, unless I burn some paper and inhale the fumes from that. Somehow I don’t think it’ll carry the same effect.
I spent $40 on taxis tonight. Donated a bottle of Wolf Blass wine to my table and spent about $15 on drinks, plus another $10 on food. $65 for a night out, plus the $30 on the dinner. $95. I really shouldn’t have bothered going to North Sydney. That’s where $60 went of my night. What a pisser. I had Oportos. It was typical of Oportos, ie: bland. At least I shared my chips with some Macedonian guy called Bogdan who swore he’d had a foursome with 3 other girls (due to him being a guitarist in a band and having shoulder-length curly hair) in a gay bar. I have to admit, I ‘m jealous. I’ve never picked up in a gay bar (although I’ve come close, believe it or not), let alone scored a mini orgy with 3 other women. It’s almost offensive that a nerdy guy called Bogdan can, I have to admit. He was nice enough, though. I shared my Oportos chips with him, because I’m sweet.
Anyway, I’m falling asleep here in my chair, so I may as well at least doze off in the bed that I slept in until 12pm this afternoon. Good night, freaks.
Played golf today at the Lane Cove golf club with Ross, Tooker and Lavery. Haven’t seen Laves in ages, it was good to catch up.
I’m my own handicap, it seems. I’ve pretty much only played golf 3 times, about 5 years apart each time. It shows. My slice is fan-fucking-tastic since it’s the only shot I seem to be able to play.
Hopefully I hold the course record for most balls lost in 9 holes. Honestly it reached around 12 balls I went through. It would have been more, but I found 2 on the way through the course that I decided to acquire.
Not much else has been newsworthy. I got an HD, a D and C for my results this semester. Not too bad. I was a bit disappointed with the C, but I figured I’d get around that anyway. That was the course I fucking hated, so I suppose I’ll take the mark. I was pleased to get an HD in project management. Woo!
Now I just have to make sure my project team gets the ball rolling well for my major project this semester. I’m expecting my management accounting (or whatever it bloody is) course to be relatively simple, so I’m confident I can do pretty well in that, too.
Bring it on, damn it.
redknob: i'd probably be eating something nice
redknob: but the cupboards are literally bare
redknob: and it's too cold to go to the shops
redknob: plus i already had 1 and a half big servings of reheated macaroni and cheese
redknob: so i've probably eaten enough for the day
Eri: hehehe
Eri: ive never eaten macroni and cheese before
redknob: i must remember to buy toilet paper tomorrow, lest we end up in an unfortunate predicament
redknob: you're missing out
redknob: it's one of those good old comfort foods
redknob: except i'm eating it as a survival food
redknob: so it seems distinctively less filling but somehow bloating
Eri: hehe yeah
redknob: in the way that only microwaved reheated pasta can
Eri: oh don't forget that toilet paper
Eri: that would suck!
redknob: yesh
redknob: it would
redknob: you know
redknob: i always have high hopes whenever i'm about to go to the supermarket
redknob: then they always come crashing down around me when i see that there's never anything that good to buy in them anyway
redknob: i keep expecting for there to be some magical awesome product you can buy
redknob: that meets the expectations of the unclear dream i have of finding something truly awesome whenever i go shopping
redknob: instead i usually end up with a vanilla malt oak
redknob: this shit is good, i should write it in my journal
We won the rugby. Yay.
Let’s see, what’s happening…
I dropped in to a new friend’s party on Friday night after work: one of the girls I met on the Hunter trip the other day. It was pretty groovy even though I was all on my lonesome and barely knew anyone. There were enough drunken people stumbling around to keep me entertained. I suppose that’s good enough.
This week I’m going to be pretty bored. I should probably do some more shifts at work, but I can’t be fucked. I’ve sorted out my tax return. Hopefully I’ll get about $500 or so back, woot! I also got about $250 cash on Saturday night from all the guys after I bought their rugby tickets for them weeks ago. My wallet is about to burst. It’s a comforting feeling. Unfortunately it also means my pants keep falling down with all the shrapnel stuck in the back pocket of my jeans. At least I’ll be loaded and naked. Another comforting feeling.
In other (old) news, Jennifer Agutter was hot. I knew this the first time I saw Logan’s Run years ago, I just don’t believe I ever recorded the fact anywhere. Even the guys from Coupling say so, so I must be right.
Seems both Reuters’ and CNN’s networks have collapsed after the London bombings. Nothing like a surge to really fuck up a network admin’s day.
I suppose now that this has happened it’s a little irrelevant to talk up my trip to the Hunter with Winesoc. Since the dust hasn’t quite settled yet, I’ll at least mention it.
I bought 3 bottles of wine and had a good time. Met lots of new people and maybe even a new friend or two, but we’ll see. On the second night I wore a netball costume that I bought that night from the Cessnock Lowes store. My legs are still hot.
Only one person spewed the whole trip, which is a new record as far as I know.
Apparently on the second night I must have looked like the walking dead. I felt really tired and completely pissed, but I didn’t pass out or do anything embarrassing (except for eating a carrot carved in to the shape of a penis). Everyone was asking me how I was doing the next day, so I must have looked much worse than I felt.
I had to go to work as soon as I got off the bus yesterday afternoon. :( I need the money, though, and I survived. That must mean it wasn’t so bad.
It’s very tempting to crack open the bottle of dessert wine I bought. I haven’t had any dessert, but so what, right?
the knob blog 