At last, my life has calmed down to the point where I can blog again.
Blogging has become a new measure of my spare time these days.
If I have time to blog, it means the ol’ Crap-o-Meter™ has dropped down to “Medium Turd”. That, or I am simply just ignoring all the things I need to get done today – cheating the Crap-o-Meter™ so to speak.
Cheating the Crap-o-Meter™ however, is not always a good idea, because in the end, you are just cheating yourself. When you look again, the dial has suddenly jumped from “Medium Turd” to full throttle “Cistern Cracker” – which is never a good thing.
Pass the blog roll please.
Onto today’s blog:
While driving into work the other morning, I heard on the radio that NASA has inadvertently LOST the original audio tape of mans first lunar walk.
Needless to say, I swerved off the road, narrowly missed a fire hydrant and squashed a couple of pedestrians who looked like they needed the rest anyway.
Once I had eventually lost the pursuing police, my mind wandered back to the tapes.
Please can someone explain how the worlds most powerful, respected and influential space agency loses such an irreplaceable piece of history – a piece of history that marks perhaps the greatest moment in the history of mankind no less.
Hmmmmmm
Maybe they used it to copy a BeeGees album.
I mean they are pretty important too. Being the BeeGees and all.
Maybe they left it in the sun, and it melted and warped. Who knows. Whatever happened though I sure would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when it all happened:
*BeeGees Music Fills the NASA Offices*
BigCheese: “I thought you said this was the tape?”
NerdiGum: “Er, well the label says ‘Greatest Day in the History of Mankind.Ever.
Amen – DO NOT TAPE OVER THIS YOU DUMBASSES’ – so er…it
simply MUST be it…”
BigCheese: “NerdiGum, this is the BEEGEES. THE BEEGEES NERDIGUM!!!!”
NerdiGum: “Well Done Sir! Very Impressive! And the title?”
I’m going to cling to the faint hope that some NASA filing clerk out there is turning on his car radio right now and finding Neil Armstrong’s famous words filling the interior, instead of the BEEGEES medley of greatest hits. This would be the equivalent of his day starting out at ‘Cistern Cracker’ on the Crap-o-Meter™
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Divine Gag
It’s been a crazy few weeks for me. At the exact time I was moving house, someone upstairs decided it was about time to run a bath. My money’s on Jesus.
The sky above turned ominously black, the clouds moved in, and the rain came down. Actually it would be more accurate to say that a violent monsoon sat on my head.
There I was, carting boxes et al, while around me, people were being carried away to Australia. Well not quite. But trees did fall over. And I was carrying boxes. Which is probably what prompted the torrent in the first place. But that’s a blog for another day.
I seriously believe that there is such a thing as Murphy’s Law. At least in some cosmic form or another.
God - whoever she is - has a sense of humor.
I mean why else would we have a month of near perfect weather, and then, catastrophic flooding the day I move house? It’s Murphy’s Law, a little Divine Gag on me.
And I get them all the time.
- The right key is always the last one on the bunch
- My toast always lands butter side down
- My cell phone will die the moment I actually need it in an emergency.
Etcetera.
In return for a lifetime of enduring these DivineGags, I am planning my own little gag for when I cross over. I can see it now:
“Hey St. Pete, how’s it hangin’”
“Ahem. Welcome to heaven. Please do not touch the Pearly Gates. You are required to wear your halo at all times, wings are compulsory, but you get to choose between a harp and a flute. Dinner’s at 7. I hope you like honey”
“Cool with me Petey. Listen is God around?”
“God is busy. S/He is always busy.”
“Well could ya give Him/Her a message?”
“A message? You insolent little blighter.”
“Yeah, could you tell Him I’m actually not dead. I’m just lying reeeaaaaaaaallllllly still.”
“Actually you little stink bug, you are severely inebriated. Furthermore, according to Murphy’s Law, one out of every 2 million people* who become severely intoxicated die as a result. O look: jokes on you.”
“Ill take the Harp.”
Moral for today: Never, NEVER mess with God. Or Murphy. Whoever strikes first.
* For illustrative purposes only
The sky above turned ominously black, the clouds moved in, and the rain came down. Actually it would be more accurate to say that a violent monsoon sat on my head.
There I was, carting boxes et al, while around me, people were being carried away to Australia. Well not quite. But trees did fall over. And I was carrying boxes. Which is probably what prompted the torrent in the first place. But that’s a blog for another day.
I seriously believe that there is such a thing as Murphy’s Law. At least in some cosmic form or another.
God - whoever she is - has a sense of humor.
I mean why else would we have a month of near perfect weather, and then, catastrophic flooding the day I move house? It’s Murphy’s Law, a little Divine Gag on me.
And I get them all the time.
- The right key is always the last one on the bunch
- My toast always lands butter side down
- My cell phone will die the moment I actually need it in an emergency.
Etcetera.
In return for a lifetime of enduring these DivineGags, I am planning my own little gag for when I cross over. I can see it now:
“Hey St. Pete, how’s it hangin’”
“Ahem. Welcome to heaven. Please do not touch the Pearly Gates. You are required to wear your halo at all times, wings are compulsory, but you get to choose between a harp and a flute. Dinner’s at 7. I hope you like honey”
“Cool with me Petey. Listen is God around?”
“God is busy. S/He is always busy.”
“Well could ya give Him/Her a message?”
“A message? You insolent little blighter.”
“Yeah, could you tell Him I’m actually not dead. I’m just lying reeeaaaaaaaallllllly still.”
“Actually you little stink bug, you are severely inebriated. Furthermore, according to Murphy’s Law, one out of every 2 million people* who become severely intoxicated die as a result. O look: jokes on you.”
“Ill take the Harp.”
Moral for today: Never, NEVER mess with God. Or Murphy. Whoever strikes first.
* For illustrative purposes only
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Morning Wombats: TYPE 3
One astute reader has dutifully informed me of yet another morning-person type, which I seem to have glibly forgotten to draw your attention to, in my last post. Highly unlikely, I know, but sometimes things do slip between the cracks.
But before I go into the details of this third type of morning wombat, let’s recap on the first two.
Quick Summary:
TYPE1:
- Early risers
- Happy to be up at some ungodly hour
- Wants everyone around them to feel the same way – even if by force.
- Highly endangered
TYPE2:
- Normal People.
Ok. That pretty much sums it up.
Now, Type 3:
TYPE3:
Type three, I am told, are hardcore type 2’s.
These people can weather any badass TYPE1 that may be lurking in the darkness.
Getting these people out of bed is like waking the dead. These people have a black-belt in staying put. In fact the only time I have ever seen a type three is on route to the kitchen. Or bathroom. Depending on which one was visited last. Both times were scary.
Their eyes are kind of slitty, and their hair looks like hedgehog. Do NOT feed the hedgehog. No, not even if it begs you directly.
However, more than this, TYPE3’s are prone to acute aggression. I know this because my sister is a chronic TYPE3.
One would think that with all that sleep, these TYPE3’s would be all docile. Like a fuzzy bunny. Think Bambi and Thumper.
Not TYPE3’s. Nooooooooo sireee. TYPE3’s are NASTY. Try waking them up and prepare for the wrath of the gods.
Some deploy different defense strategies. Some lash out at you with claws. Some actually leave their sanctum for a few seconds to pulverize you and hide the body. Whatever they do, its swift and violent.
Sometimes it’s best to just let these sleeping dogs lie.
Some characteristics to look out for when identifying TYPE3’s:
- The hedgehog
- Violent, moody, temper, rage, weaponry
- Untidy people. Room looks like crack den. Socks all over the place. The hedgehog.
- Wake at 11am and above. Make way.
I am confident that Morning Wombats have now been properly identified. If I have missed a type out, I urge you: tell me. For the sake of mankind and Hedghogs around the world.
Happy sleeping. . .
(image placeholder)
But before I go into the details of this third type of morning wombat, let’s recap on the first two.
Quick Summary:
TYPE1:
- Early risers
- Happy to be up at some ungodly hour
- Wants everyone around them to feel the same way – even if by force.
- Highly endangered
TYPE2:
- Normal People.
Ok. That pretty much sums it up.
Now, Type 3:
TYPE3:
Type three, I am told, are hardcore type 2’s.
These people can weather any badass TYPE1 that may be lurking in the darkness.
Getting these people out of bed is like waking the dead. These people have a black-belt in staying put. In fact the only time I have ever seen a type three is on route to the kitchen. Or bathroom. Depending on which one was visited last. Both times were scary.
Their eyes are kind of slitty, and their hair looks like hedgehog. Do NOT feed the hedgehog. No, not even if it begs you directly.
However, more than this, TYPE3’s are prone to acute aggression. I know this because my sister is a chronic TYPE3.
One would think that with all that sleep, these TYPE3’s would be all docile. Like a fuzzy bunny. Think Bambi and Thumper.
Not TYPE3’s. Nooooooooo sireee. TYPE3’s are NASTY. Try waking them up and prepare for the wrath of the gods.
Some deploy different defense strategies. Some lash out at you with claws. Some actually leave their sanctum for a few seconds to pulverize you and hide the body. Whatever they do, its swift and violent.
Sometimes it’s best to just let these sleeping dogs lie.
Some characteristics to look out for when identifying TYPE3’s:
- The hedgehog
- Violent, moody, temper, rage, weaponry
- Untidy people. Room looks like crack den. Socks all over the place. The hedgehog.
- Wake at 11am and above. Make way.
I am confident that Morning Wombats have now been properly identified. If I have missed a type out, I urge you: tell me. For the sake of mankind and Hedghogs around the world.
Happy sleeping. . .
(image placeholder)
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