An off-the-cuff blog regarding the first thing that caught my eye

There is a very special item that adorns the wall to the left of my little laptop hub (aka dinner table). Many of you will be familiar with it. Some of you might even be lucky enough to appear in it.

Yes, it’s the infamous photo board that Fincher et al put together for that very special occasion that was my 21^st birthday. Seems like an eternity ago now. Well, I guess 5 years is a long time…

This board is far more than just a collection of photos. I view it as a living, breathing tapestry of memories. Anyone who has sat and gazed at it for even a minute would know just what I mean. It never ceases to amaze me – each time I casually glance at the board I hone in on a photo that I hadn’t noticed for a while, and this triggers a memory which sets off a chain reaction of other associated recollections. Allow me to provide an example.

The photo that just caught my eye is one of me with bleached blonde hair tucking into a sausage in bread. I recall that this was from Ricardo del Sanjay’s 21^st. I then remember the mood of that night….the first time I met The Michael (then known simply as “Michael”)….drinking copious of amounts of what would have been no doubt Coopers, yes, before I became a sellout…I remember thinking it would be a great idea to sleep outside…and then rueing the shit out of this decision as I woke up at the crack of dawn to the blistering January sun after what couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours sleep…I could go on and on.

Now I’d estimate that there would be about 100 photos on the board, probably more. Each one of these is essentially a portal to a myriad of memories of my teens and early 20’s. If my house caught fire, I’d get burnt in order to save the board. Its priceless.

In so many ways gazing at this board is better than watching videos. The story is by no means linear, and each photo triggers so many brilliant little nuances of reminiscence from days where everything seemed so simple, and everyone was never much further than a text message invite away…

Times have changed. The crew has more or less disbanded, geographically anyway. But this board is homage to tighter knit days – and I love it to death.

With great respect and humble appreciation for my co-authors,

- The Moff

Back to the Roots

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears.

It is time to take this thing back to where it all began.

I write this as the clock ticks past midnight on a truly pivotal day in the lives of your faithful blog veterans Funkmaster D and I.

For today, Grand Theft Auto IV is released.

The next installment in the franchise that has brought so much joy and escapism to our lives on and off for over 6 years.

It is fitting that on such a day, this bold decision regarding the blogs future be executed by its very founder.

Ladies and gentleman, today is year zero.

Benevolently yours,

- The Moff

Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness

We have already established that the blog is dead. It’s tired and it needs a revival. As such, a change of tack is needed, so here goes, my foray into the world of ridiculously melon collie and thought provoking blogs, with not a scent of humour. If you don’t like it, HTFU.

Probably as a consequence of watching way too many teen soap dramas and enjoying them, I sometimes feel as though my life is a TV show. When I look back on my memories they condense themselves into neat little blocks of memories which resemble an episode, complete with appropriate theme music. The relationships between my friends will always work out in the end and nothing bad will ever really happen. And if it does it will all work out in the end, because we are in TV land and the protagonists always get out of it alright, good always triumphs over evil, and everyone lives happily ever after.

And then something happens that jolts me back to reality, and I suddenly realise whatever happens, happens forever. I can’t hit the rewind button and re-write the episode. Its done and dusted and I have to deal with the consequences. God knows why I am thinking of it today, but one such incident was when my Mum crashed her car quite badly on the freeway about a year ago.

I was at home when I heard about it and though nothing of it really, pretty much ‘Stupid Mum, learn to drive’, but then Dad called me and said the ambulance had taken her to hospital and she had crashed into the barrier at close to 100 k’s. And I suddenly realised if anything happened, it was for keeps. I might not have a Mum anymore, and it was one of the most sobering experiences of my life. I simply didn’t want to imagine what life would be like without my Mother.

As it turned out she was fine, with just a few bruises. But try as I might I couldn’t shake this reality feeling. I couldn’t stop thinking about situations or occurrences that could change my life. And the fact that it was my life, not a TV show that I could escape from if it became to embarrassing or hard, this was it, and its here to stay.

It usually lasts a couple of days and then I blissfully float back into my world, where I don’t have to think about things like that constantly. I think it’s a defence mechanism, I would be paralysed by fear and trepidation if I had to think about bad shit happening to the people I love all the time. But they come back to haunt me sometimes on days like today. Sometimes life would be easier as a TV show.

Thoughts Of A Dying Blog...

'I got a belt on, thats' holding up my pants and my pants have belt loops that hold up my belt. I dont know whats happening down there.

Who is the real hero?'

Mitch Hedberg.

The Futility of it all

Today I found a new reason to want to destroy the world. Get rid of them all I say. Spare no one. The human race has fought an epic battle, a battle filled with losers and bereft of winners, and lost; a battle against stupidity.

I saw an ad today on the internet, an ad for a self help service. The tagline went thus “I got scammed 27 times - how to avoid work from home scams”. I mean, seriously, what the fuck?! If you are capable of walking, talking or counting to 27, even if you have to use your fingers and toes, you should be able to avoid being scammed 27 times, the same bloody way. Hell, if you have enough money to buy or enough brain power to steal a computer, you should be able to avoid that. What? The first 26 fucking times weren’t a clue.

I can just imagine the daft prick walking along, having been scammed 26 times before, and seeing one of those pull-tab ads on a stobey pole. Earn up to $10 000 000 a week tax free, all from the comfort of your own home. ‘Wow, that sounds good’ he says to himself, pulls a tab and gives them a call. ‘Ten mill a week is normal right? Everyone’s doing it, I’m ripping myself off.’ I mean really; 27 times?

I have been saying for a long time now the general stupidity of the population really surprises me. What surprises me more though is the way they keep lowering the bar. Every time I think, ‘no way, people can’t be any stupider than that’ I am floored by something that is so stupid I even have trouble conceiving of some being able to think about it, let alone do it. This is one such time. The only solution – turn it all into goo.

The joy of music...

Every now and then when one lives the dream, the 'real world' pops up, bursts your bubble and gives you a repetitive and unoriginal kick up the arse.

Commercial fucking radio.

"So tell me why-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-yy-y-y-y-y-y-yy-y
should i let you go

give me 20 good reasons

i need to know"

20 good reasons? I don't think there were even 20 good reasons for the d-day landings at Normandy but they still went ahead. who the fuck would give someone 20 reasons when leaving them?

I'll give you one good reason why-y-y-y-y-y, it really should suffice

you're a whining cheese dick who writes shit music.

The Best-Laid Plans of Mice and Men Often Go Awry...

During my quiet reflection about apologising, inspired by the events of last week, I think about what it all means to me. While I certainly don't want to make light of the 'sorry day'- I think it is one of the most important days in our history, I do think it's important to reflect within ourselves. This could be a big step forward for Australia. As PK said in the power of one, " a waterfall starts with a single drop."

.

This is only too true.

.

So, for all my reflecting, what did I come up with? Nothing terribly groundbreaking I'm afraid, but it did make me wonder if we will ever get an apology from RE. Not for what he did to the stolen generation. As far as I am aware, he had nothing to do with it, after all, he is only 26. No, I'm wondering if, in this summer of apologies, we will recieve one for what happened to the Map of the Problematique.

It's been 2 months since Sean Bean's glorious blog and even longer since RE's last blog. His last blog was, if you believed the hype, to be revolutionary for the Map of the Problematique and it's readers. A blog, no less, which would bring us, the traditionalist administrators and you the readers, up from our comical slums to the lofty heights of his Chateau D'Intelligence.

My oh my how even the best intended policies can fail.

"ALways opinionated; always controversial; and always topical, he's done it again. Casting off the shackles of our traditionalist administrators I'm putting another brave foot forward." RE,December 6, 2007.

As the media sun begins to set on the 'sorry day' stories only time will tell if this year will be the year that reconcilliation really starts to occur. For myself though, I can't help but wonder if we, the children of the blog, will have to wait 30 odd years before we hear an apology from RE.

One thing is certain, by then, Funkmaster D will have no hair.

Episode II: Attack of the Idiots

Well after some rest on the sidelines after such a breakthrough debut on the blog (followed by a tragic brain sprain), the Bean is back and boy...he is annoyed. I'm pretty sure you are too, perhaps without even realising it! Lets have a look shall we?

This weeks installment: Shopping / basic pedestrian navigation

After losing to The Moff in golf by two shots last night, I was primed for a breakdown today and it came in the form of annoying Asian people (sorry Dylan). Without being racist, how can these people come from such ram packed populations yet still be so shit at navigating public places? I mean seriously, how hard is it to look where you are going? And if I go left, you go right? OK? Thanks! FUCK

Today it finally dawned on me. Lifts / Elevators make people stupid. I say this because each and every time I make use of an elevator, I come across stupid people. What is it with the idiots (I must admit mostly female) who enter your lift car before anyone ACTUALLY IN THE LIFT CAR has disembarked? Today I actually moaned to a woman with her shopping trolley and kid that entered my lift, "AHHH GOD JUST WAIT TILL I GET OUT" - no lie.

Another beauty, the escalator poser. I call them the escalator poser because they choose not to step up the escalator, but stand there (one arm on the rail, one on their hip), simultaneously taking up the entire escalator path and therefore holding me up. GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY DICKHEAD!

Emo's that sit around the Mall's Balls. Yes lets all sit around the crowning achievement of Adelaide and look like fucking idiots. Something has to be done about this, perhaps installing razor blades on the ground much like the bumps that are attached to handrails to deter skaters? Then again, giving one a good swift kick in the back would feel great.

Last but not least, the walkway blocker. These are the most common of all the idiots. Their native habitat being the centre of any pedestrian walkway or threshold of any exit or doorway (otherwise any place where other pedestrians need space to move freely). I cannot tolerate these idiots. If it is that important to stop and chat to someone you bump into in public, please, for the love of god, move to the left / right / where ever you need to go, so that you do not impede people like me who simply want to get from A to B.

Fucking hell.

WYLK

WYLK, also known as Lake 94.7, is a Hot Adult Contemporary radio station serving the St. Tammany Parish area. Owned by former Mississippi congressman C. Wayne Dowdy under the company name Northshore Broadcasting, the station is licensed to Lacombe, Louisiana, and broadcasts at 94.7 MHz with an ERP of 5.4 kW.

94.7 first came on the air in 1996, and the format was country. The station simulcast with 104.7 out of Folsom, as a country combo known as "94.7/104.7 the Lake". The market that both stations catered to was St. Tammany Parish; 94.7 had better coverage of areas in the southern end of the parish (Slidell, Mandeville, Lacombe), while 104.7 better covered the northern areas of the parish (Covington, Folsom, Bush, Abita Springs).

Styles Broadcasting out of Panama City bought the stations in 1999 from Charles K.& Carlie B. Winstanley ( The Radio Company), who were the founders and original owners of both station. Winstanley also owned stations WPCF-FM & WDLP-AM in Florida. While 104.7 moved to a Smooth Jazz format as "Shore 104.7", 94.7 continued as a country station. However, it now simulcasted with 94.9 out of Reserve, as "K94"; the station was an unsuccessful country simulcast to the New Orleans market. This lasted until 2000, when 94.9 was flipped to the Smooth Jazz format itself. 104.7 was eventually divested to C. Wayne Dowdy that same year. 94.7 returned to simulcasting 94.9, albeit with the Smooth Jazz format, in January 2001.

Later in 2001, Wilks Broadcasting assumed control of the stations, eventually purchasing them in 2002. In December 2001, 94.7 and 94.9 were flipped to a Hot Talk/Active Rock format as "94.9 Extreme Radio". This format lasted until November 2002, as the loss of the syndicated Opie & Anthony show, as well as Wilks' acquisition of Modern Rocker "106.7 the End", caused the stations to flip to a Gospel format as "Praise 94.9".

Citadel purchased the combo of 94's in 2003. Only to divest them to C. Wayne Dowdy's Southeastern Broadcasting concern in early 2005. Pittman Broadcasting had announced the purchase of the combo the year before, only to back out due to concerns over tower space for 94.7 because of the state of Louisiana building an interchange for I-10 in the area where the signal is located.

Dowdy continued to broadcast the Gospel format until Hurricane Katrina. After the storm, 94.7 was shifted to "Radio Slidell", providing disaster information for the citizens of Slidell.

In November of 2005, the "Praise" simulcast was officially broken up, as 94.7 switched to a commercial-free format of Hot Adult Contemporary music. This continued until December 31, 2005, when 94.7 took on the name of "Lake 94.7" and programmed a format local to St. Tammany Parish.

"Lake 94.7" is run out of Dowdy's Northshore Broadcasting concern. The programming office is located in Hammond, Louisiana and the station operates a sales office in Covington, Louisiana. The tower is located in Slidell, Louisiana, where it shares space on the tower of AM station WSLA; however, the station plans to move its signal to Lacombe, Louisiana. The current tower had been flooded by Hurricane Katrina; before the storm, the transmitter had already been prone to problems.

Technology Corner (or the Article Formerly Known as the Sound of One Hand Clapping)

Always opinionated; always controversial; and always topical, he’s done it again. Casting off the shackles of our traditionalist administrators I’m putting another brave foot forward.

Will this be another spoken-of-in-hush-tones taboo topic? Only time will tell…

Sliver cells; the smallest commercially available solar cells in the world. They use less silicone and less space, produce more electricity from the same area and are cheaper. Potential to revolutionise the world of solar energy? Who knows.

According to Professor Andrew Blakers, director of the ANU Centre for Sustainable Energy Systems, “Sliver Cell technology needs the equivalent of two silicon wafers to convert sunlight to 140 watts of power. By comparison, a conventional solar panel needs about 60 silicon wafers to achieve this performance.”

They can also be made thin and flexible enough to be woven into fabric. This means your t-shirt could charge your phone and i-pod while you’re walking down the street or laying on the beach!

They are translucent, so they could potentially be placed over the entire surface of a skyscraper entirely covered with glass.

And what’s more, they have the potential to cost about 1 quarter of conventional cells.

I think these things are cool.

Check out the 7 minute video segment available on

http://www.abc.net.au/catalyst/stories/s1865651.htm

And there’s also some info in wikipedia:

http://peswiki.com/index.php/Directory:Sliver_Solar_Cells

Houseboat of Equine Influenza

Apart from the group of us converging on an unsuspecting South Australian Riverland and bringing with us a myriad of social conditions and infection from the four corners of this great brown land (three of those being the attic of wonders), which will inevitably morph into super strains of spasticity, there is something I'm looking forward to much more.


I get the chance to sit down with nowhere to go, nowhere to be, nothing to do, but sit and talk. I cannot wait, amigos, to just talk shit while the banks of the Murray drift lazily by.

Stupid Ads, make more sense.

All right people, enough of the bitchiness. We all know Ricardo can’t enjoy an intellectual blog because he has an arts degree, and if RE was anymore verbose he would literally be spewing words out of all of his orifices. But I really don’t care about that. I have a bone to pick, and I will pick it so clean it will be whiter than Tim’s arse on that fateful day at Bate’s House, when the term ‘beaming white’ was coined.

And let me admit, that this is purely inspired by a message from Tim about Radio Rentals and I am sorry if he was going to blog it, and now can not due to my poaching his topic. Sorry like a fox!!!

Why in God’s name do so many adverts not make a scrap of sense, at all? Why would you pay thousands or even hundreds of thousands of dollars to an ad agency when my three year old daughter (if I had one, but I’d probably have to get some first…) could come up with things that made more sense? Appealing to the lowest common denominator? I mean how low can you go?

First to Tim’s very good point. Why would you want to shop anywhere else? I’ll tell you why, because you are shopping for something which they do not stock, never have stocked, and would never dream of stocking. Next time you’re in radio rentals, go up to the counter and ask for a bag of dog food. Bet you they don’t have it. Proceed to shout in their face ‘That’s why I want to shop somewhere else, ya Dickhead’. On top of that they are probably the worst place, in the whole entire world to shop for consumer electronics. Except perhaps the Panaphonics and Sorny shop in the Simpsons.

And what about BP with that water, people playing in water, sun going down over the ocean, fading into BP symbol ad.. Oil is a dirty, grimy, primary industry; it is not clean and nice like the ad is. Also BP rips off almost everybody in the world for as much as they possibly can. Having an ad that looks nice is not going to change that, or make me buy petrol from there. I buy petrol where it’s cheapest, full stop. Unless the store happened to be owned by RE. Then I would buy it from anywhere else but there, no matter the price.

Finally, any bank ad that makes out that the bank is an essential part of our life, and is like the best friend, always there for you when you need it, ready to lend a helping hand or 10 grand. I’ve got news for you too banks, you are a business institution. I therefore use which of you makes me the best deal, not which of you has ads that make me feel more special. When did you treat me like a friend? A friend doesn’t charge $30 for an overdrawn account. Otherwise Worthley would owe me 40 grand and I would already own a house.

So basically, you can all go to hell. Be funny ads, or be forthright, the Cunno’s ads were/are brilliant because they look like exactly what they are; a dodgy shop selling cheap shit, with a dodgy, cheap ad. Here here.

"I'd Love For You To Share This Exercise With Me."- The moff, 23rd July, 2006

Some 16 odd months ago I recieved an email from a very excited man. It was, of course, the moff. The email gave me an invitation to blog with him instead of sending our rants to each other in email form. I guess, like all things in life, numbers grew and ideas for the direction of the blog became more diverse. But where the blog is now and where it once was are so far apart that sometimes when i load up the blog site, i double check to make sure i have the right site. (yes, even when it was deep in the shitter needing to be rescued by funkmaster D)

Perhaps it is fitting that this debate about the future of the blog comes at a time when our fine country takes on a new leader. Perhaps it is time for a directional change on the blog. maybe the fresh thoughts are what it needs. As the Peter Costello of the blog i can see that the deeep seeded roots of the blog-the passion, the anger, the annoyance, the vibe- all of this things, they're simply not there in the form that they once were. Maybe i'm just too traditional and don't like to see change.

Will Rudd do a good job? I don't know. would Howard have continued to do a good job? I don't know. Will this new spin on the blog be as entertaining? I don't know. Do i like the direction that this new blood is taking the blog? No, i dont. But i am only one voice.

I ask myself, what does this mean for the blog? I don't know-perhaps it will be the best thing that ever happened to it. Having said that, i wonder how i will cope with it. Is it, in its proposed new form, still the problematique blogsite? in name, i suppose, yes. In spirit, i dare say no.

i guess i will always check in on the blog that has given me so much enjoyment and so many memories. driving home from work at ungodly hours with a cheeky grin, formulating a blog in my head, writing it, searching for a picture, then waiting while people slowly discovered its presence. This of course, is only matched by the childlike enthusiasm that occured when i saw a new blog up. Alas, everything has changed. I can't turn my back on something i helped to bring alive- but gone are the days of undeniable enthusiasm and the lusty gusto that once reigned supreme. Now, i can only really see it getting a casual glance every now and then.

Apart from these rambling thoughts, I don't really have any answers to the direction of the blog, just numbness and a sadness that something once so great has passed us by.

So, i sign this post off with an adaption of a great moment in fear and loathing in lost vegas.

"Strange memories of that nervous night in Adelaide when the moff first mentioned the blog. Has it been 12 months? 18? It seems like a lifetime, the kind of peak that never comes again. http://www.problematique.blogspot.com/ in 2006 was a very special time and place to be a part of. But no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch the sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant.

There was madness in any direction, at any hour on the blog. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning, in our own little rant form.

And that, I think, was the handle- - that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of old and evil and mundane. Our energy would simply prevail. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than 2 years later, you can go up a steep hill in South Australia and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark- that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back."

Now there is nothing left but to close our eyes and listen with a deep, grieving sadness as the last post lovingly fades out.

Politics and Shit

I agree about shit boring blogs. I only wish there was more I could do with my own very specific type of prose that I could sometimes be more entertaining. But that's the question - how much of an effect does the topic itself have on the boringness of the blog? The way some of us have approached some of my previous work it sounded like it was the topic alone which made it boring (although in fairness some of the blame should be on my traditional dissertation style).

The nature of the blog is for us to simply express ourselves. And this, I think, outweighs any over-riding concerns over the general ambience of the blog.



I think politics definitely has a place on the blog because, hey, the further we get into our lives the more involved with and affected by policy and politics we are. I'm definitely finding that over here in an industry which has a heavy involvement with politics.

The other thing I see in the blog as an opportunity is the fact that we have created an absolutely unfettered creative outlet in a semi-formal configuration by which to exchange ideas and creative stimuli. In this environment, I find myself much more able to stretch my compositional and critical writing legs.

If everyone is scared of posting even subtly intellectual blogs then we end up with a baseless, superficial reflection of ourselves. We are deeper, more empathetic and intelligent people than this blog reflects and I for one want to hear more about the complex, meaningful issues in my friends’ lives.

So why should any one of us be in any position to express their opinion as a caution to anyone else who posts a blog which the first person finds disinteresting? They shouldn’t.

But how will we control it and stop it from becoming a waste of space, replete of shit?

Simple. When any post has attached to it comments from the majority of bloggers articulating clear disapproval, then they can be barred from that topic. So I propose that there are no limits to the topics of blogs and that limits will be handed out by the mandate of the majority of bloggers.

Further I would like to see Moff instigate a vote on this proposal via the usual method of voting for alternatives on the blog site, a la fast food outlets. Something like:

Blog topics should be:

1. unrestricted
2. unrestricted until a majority of bloggers disapprove of that topic
3. unrestricted until a majority of bloggers disapprove of that topic for that person
4. restricted by a list of exclusions formulated by the group democratically

RE's 2007 Election Wrap

Rather than rant on for ages about the election result itself, there are actually some very interesting conclusions to draw from it, both from how and why things happened the way they did, and how things have changed for the future.

And yes, this blog will probably resemble my very controversial debut, so be warned, and take it for what you will. And guess what Ricardo, you’re tired of reading about politics? well I’m sure as fuck tired of hearing about how you or Funkmaster of Moff managed to pull through a thriller in table tennis, pro-evo or golf, so remember that before you start the, oh, here we go again.

Something about this election reminded me very much of the South Park episode where Stan’s father offers his wise words, “see, it’s always a choice between a Giant Douchebag and a Turd Sandwich”. And I'm sure there's no-ne who would argue that K Rudd is certainly a Giant Douchebag.

Funnily enough this particular episode was a parody of the 2000 election campaign in the US, in the lead up to the 2004 election, and the feeling for me is that it becomes more and more relevant as political candidates learn how to sell themselves through a vast range of media. But it also highlights, as much as we hate to admit it, the relentless Americanisation of our country.

Rudd won in an absolute demolition. And after this I was heartened to hear the wrap each leader gave the other. They do no doubt share a genuine mutual respect. There would be some very big questions being asked in Liberal party at the moment because probably a lot of the traditionalists in the camp are still confounded by this Rudd phenomena.

First he outpaced Howard every step of the campaign. While Howard would do 1 or 2, maybe 3 appearances per day, Rudd was doing 4 or 5. And what has impressed me most of all is that Sunday, he began to group with his party to get their mandate in order, and Monday he was straight out in schools rolling out step 1: education. And all while the votes are still being counted.

Also, it will be very interesting to see how Labour handles big business. It’s no secret that the WA liberals are by far and away the most healthily funded. And there should be no surprises that these funds come from the coffers of about half a dozen companies, BHP, Rio, Woodside, Alcoa, BP, etc, all of whom love work choices (and hate Labour and the unions).

But I think what we are seeing in the economy (particularly of the energy and resources states) transcends any political party or agenda. The issue of who will run the economy better is about as inconsequential as what they ate for breakfast. The economy will continue to thrive and although it’s hard to gauge what extra force the unions will generate (and what the financial consequences of that will be), the irony is that now their party is in power, they become more useless because they have less to fight against. So, the unions will probably do what’s best for their future and subside under one of Rudd’s wings.

It will be interesting to have as our Prime Minister the first Western Leader in history with an extensive grasp of Mandarin. Although the real issue will begin to be, not how to setup healthy Australian exports, but how to stop Asian companies buying Australian ones. Rumours abound of big Chinese steel manufacturers wanting to buy Rio (whose iron ore sales make up about 2/3 of their profits at the moment). This will require someone who can deliver the proverbial “iron fist in the velvet glove” for our foreign relations, and probably the one area where I would have rather had Howard in to bat for my country than many others.

Where Rudd gained a definite advantage (and probably one of the areas which take the liberals a while to get their heads around) was through his use of media to his own advantage. It was an aspect which kept Howard in the favour of generations of traditionalists by using more radio, for example during his term, where it couldn’t be so heavily edited.

Likewise Rudd got much more involved in younger TV to capture the younger votes and did so more on live-style shows, like Rove and the tabloid-style debates on Sunrise and across the broadsheets. This too, was probably the best way to counter Howard and capture many teetering votes. Even though it is eternally frustrating to finally get political leaders in a relaxing, casual situation, hoping for them to drop the façade and just give an honest comment or two, and only have them answer, (to the question, who would you turn gay for?) “my wife is the only one for me”.

God, won’t it be amazingly refreshing to actually hear a political leader just have a real sense of humour, play along with a real joke. But then again that’s really why it always comes down to a choice between a giant douchebag and a turd sandwich.

“Good Evening, Stanford Grand, Banquets, James Speaking, How Can I Help You”

My first rant.

Happy Office People.

FUCK people with company spirit and moral fiber. This is work. I'm hung over, exhausted, and I hate your guts!! And if you people wear that same stained shirt and suit with the company logo ONE MORE FUCKING TIME this week, I will rip it off your bodies and expose your fat rolls and pasty white boobs for all to see. (Aimed at two supervisor chicks that do closes and sets – both bitches that do nothing and act like they do EVERYTHING! Err)

And to our HR manager who is trying diligently to organize a company vibe by organising events that no one in their right mind would like. LOOK LADY, this is HOSPITALITY COMPANY. No one what’s to see a movie about lost love with characters that realize his or her mistakes and come back together with an embracing hung and lusty kiss. We would rather see a masterpiece of modern horror or rather a nice meal followed by a few nice brews. Hey. How about a wine/beer tasting? It’s enjoyable, educational and can improve staff knowledge for the company. WOW. It’s common sense people.

Furthermore now with enormous 600 people Christmas functions and New Years arriving at the Stanford Grand, I begin to go crazy. With more ever-increasing workloads, staff shortages, too little sleep, fuckhead customers and old tarts; I become ill-tempered and irritable.

And if I get attitude from another client/ customer/ dickhead/ know it all/ want be tough guy, I will have to knock him unconscious. And when he just comes too, I will approach the hazy fool and asks him, "How do you like it?" while pouring that red wine over his head and pants he wanted so badly on ten minutes ago. And knowing the Grand’s customers, the injured guest with a head wound would say: “Great party, isn't it?”

Well what can I say? I choose to work there.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All play and no work makes Jack a mere toy
All play and no work makes Jack a mere toy

Monday Night Fever, North by North North Styles...

November 2007 has sprung up more than it's fair share of surprises- and of course- some not so surprising things if i am to be honest. Australia beating Sri Lanka, me working weekends, Moff selling beer, nick being nick and funkmaster turning the pro evolution 2008 world on it's head by winning 7 in a row. Granted, he is well short of my 12 straight wins, but, 7 is 7 and not to be scoffed at.

In light of this, when the offer came from the moff, which saved me from smids pro evo gravy train, i grabbed it with both hands. After all, it takes 2 hands to handle a whopper.

From this I have concluded the following, dear friends. Monday night fever has hit. Indeed, monday nights are back, with a vengeance not seen since the white fury's legendary replacement.

One of the most eagerly anticipated evenings on the sporting calander came and went, but not without leaving an everlasting impression on all those gladiators present.

The first table tennis tournament was filled with highs,me making the final, and lows,me losing the final 21-13 to the moff.

After some beers we then busted out the darts, aided by some awesome music. I encountered an epic with moff where i won 21-20.. with the funkmaster trailing on 12.. This epic was, however, upstaged by the second game, where i won 21 to moffs 20, to funkmasters 5..

The table tennis interlude which followed, was impossibly dramatic, where i courageously won after smid bravely knocked the moff out with a 11-3 win, to go through by 1 on point difference. He came, saw and went in the final, without conquering, as he was eventully knocked down by an infamous Llyeton Hewitt-esque double handed backhand, made famous in locations such as greenhill road, the Czech republic and poland, with the final winning margin being in favour of me, 21-14..

This drama, however, was only to be eclipsed on the epic-meter by the final game of darts where my michael jordan-esque 3 peat was denied, after i hit the bulls eye on the 2nd throw, by moff hitting it, dramatically, on his first. knees buckled, tears flowed, high 5's were exchanged.

All in all smid walked away winless, I triumphed and moff gave it his all to be pipped at the post. Granted, his emotional, sentimental victory to deny me my 3peat was probably the highlight of the night, but i dare say we will meet again.

In short, the summer of love is back with a mighty vengeance. A vengeance normally only associated with the glory of Lorne. Bring forth the Summer, but more importantly, bring forth the houseboat.

When the whistle blows....

Puke of the Pupil - you have received a yellow card for your failure to contribute after requesting blogging privileges.

I would much rather see you begin to post that be forced into awarding you a second yellow card, which would ultimately be a red card, thus withdrawing the access that you requested nearly a month ago.

I am giving you until midnight Sunday November 18th to jump onboard. After this hour has passed, a red card will be issued. You requested access, now its time to use it!

Yours hopefully,

The Moff
aka The Grandfather of the Blog

Gawd, Why am I soooo good at this game?

The most eagerly anticipated event of 2008 so far, the arrival of everyone’s favourite football game, pro evolution, has been and gone, tears have been shed, speeches made and the confetti is now on the floor. And it’s just the same old shit.

First game with my dear friend Ricardo had me believing that this year maybe there was something different in store. The physics are different and the referee tougher. Could I break the hoodoo that has been going longer than Chelsea’s champions league drought? (Well not really, but seeing as they have never won it, or even been in the final, that would be impossible). Ricardo’s penchant for trying to break the legs of my players was paying dividends for me, with first one, then two, then three players sent off. And finally at 3-1 he cracked the ritz and had one too many players sent off, and the game was forfeited in my favour. I am of the opinion he just didn’t want to lose worse than 3-0, but anyway.

I was almost excited. But then it happened. I should have been warned by Ricardo’s constant use of the new dive function, and a ridiculous penalty against me. But I wasn’t. As the song goes ‘the real troubles in your life are apt to be those that blindside you on some idle Tuesday’, except it was a Monday. That’s right Ladies and Gentlemen, the return of the dreaded chip.

And back it came with a vengeance not seen since I chased Seth Edwards through the corridors of PAC. Suddenly, in game two I was down 5-1, with two of the most gentle, delicate and graceful chips you have ever seen. Oh god what was I to do? I don’t know whether I could stand a return to the dark days of PES 4. I was very tempted to throw my PS3 out the window right there and then, without a backward glance and no regrets. Or curl up into the foetal position and start slowly rocking. But no, I held it together. Just. The type of fortitude I normally reserve for wearing Lime Green suits into Red Square got me through, but I had to call on everything I had.

So it looks like I can look forward to a summer of broken controllers and much angst directed toward my dear friend Ricardo. A return to the times where a goodbye would consist of a barely mumbled ‘piss off’ and a fervent wish that Ricardo’s car would somehow run off a cliff in a flaming ball on his way home to Northgate. Ah well, at least I still have Golf (Thanks Nick!!)

Just to Assuage your fears...

Well I guess the shortest answer is; a little from column A and a little from column B.

I do have a couple of potentially groundbreaking works in the pipeline (a least groundbreaking in the sense that, once published Funkmaster will no doubt come up with a string of similar but lamer knock-offs (UP AND LET'S GO!)) which I am continually polishing. Holding me up is indeed a small case of writer's block, but the most significant thing is unfortunately work, my friends.

Where do these big companies get off thinking that just because they pay me obscene amounts for a megre 37.5 hours a week that I should actually be working for that entire time?

And with no internet (or computer or phone or mobile or electricity or sewage) at home, my only available creative outlets must be tapped into between the hours of 7:30 and 3:30 week days.

Rest assured my cyberspace brethren, that my yearning to share with you again is building at a rate which exceeds your longing for my return.

With great pining, your RE