When you hire someone to read a book on CD you should make sure they are literate.  Make sure they can pronounce words properly.

So I'm reading "New Moon", book two in Stephenie Meyer's vampire series.  It's pretty good, but it could have used a better editor.  She uses the word 'familiar' WAY TOO MUCH!  (and by way too much I mean at least 6 times on a page sometimes)  How is it that I am so aware of this?  Because the stupid moron who's reading the book cannot pronounce the word 'familiar' correctly.  So every few sentences I hear 'fermillier'.  Yes. 

BAD ENGLISH! BAD BAD!

Fahmilliar...not fermillier.

Its not that hard.

(every time she says it, and it is a lot due to Ms. Meyer's negligent editor, I just want to bang my head against the steering wheel)

WANT!

The Fourth of July was always one of my favorite holidays in the US. Not that I'm terribly patriotic or anything, just...there are fireworks and BBQs and its an excuse to drink = HELLO PERFECT HOLIDAY.

Now, it of course means something else to me. It makes me miss home.

While I'll be having fun tonight celebrating Iain's birthday (it's tomorrow!) down by the Thames...there's a part of my heart that will be back home in my parents back yard, drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade and with a over excitable chihuahua at my feet. (Praying for crumbs.)

If I could fly back home today, even just for a couple hours and to see my parents and my sister, I would in a heart beat.

On the Fourth we'd always go to the same spot to watch fire works. My mom and my sister and I would lay on our backs and wait expectantly for the Sperm Fire Works.

If you don't know which ones I'm talking about, the you don't know what you're missing out.

They're the bright, white ones that look like tad-poles when they're first launched, but then go off in crazy directions...as if searching for a big, unfertilized egg in the sky.

It dawned on me a couple of years ago that they totally looked like gigantic sperm. I started laughing hysterically - only to notice that my sister was cackling to herself as well. Then my mom started laughing,

"OH MY GOD THEY LOOK LIKE SPERM!!!!"

Hopefully the Fourth of July Sperm Fireworks won't be nearly as fun without me this year...(If I can't have a fully complete Fourth of July THEN NOBODY SHOULD.)

Happy Independence Day, my fellow Americans.

May this recession end soon, may the gas prices go down, and may all of your BBQ's be fully cooked so you don't end up with the shits all weekend.

This song reminds me of home...

Whenever I travel overseas, I'm always glad to return home to my country, Australia. I suppose some of this has to do with being tired of living out of a suitcase; tired of the frantic pace where one feels one must fill every day with sight seeing activities; and the recurring thought that "this is costing a bloody fortune!". But I think it's more than that. In this country of mine that I love, my accent isn't out of place.; this is where I understand the cultural mores that were instilled in me during my formative years, and that make me feel rather privileged to be an Australian; this is where I belong. But, above all, this is where I can appreciate a luxury that most other countries that I've visited don't have. And that is the luxury of space.

I can remember reading that one of the highlights for Japanese tourists is to visit the outback in the Northern Territory where one can look around and see not another living soul. For them, this is a novelty they experience for the first time. I'm only now beginning to understand why they feel this way.

For in every country that I've ever visited, with the possible exception of New Zealand, space is at a premium. Yet, I've always had that luxury in this sparsely populated country of mine. In the small Western Queensland town where I grew up, each house was built on its own one acre block. Every summer weekend my friends and I would swim in the waterholes in the river, yes, bare arsed, as I recall. We'd go exploring the bush around the town. Sometimes we'd visit the waterhole that bears my grandfather's name, because he had a dairy farm nearby where he raised his ten children. I used to feel rather important when other kids asked my permission to swim there. I always generously gave it. They were not to know that the little farm had long been sold to a large cattle station nearby.

I live now on a quarter acre block in a city of 90,000 people. Yet I know I can be in the bush within ten minutes drive if I want to. I also know that the only place on this earth where I ever completely relax is in that little town where I grew up. I'll be forever connected to that little patch of ground in a dying outback town. Because that's my little patch.

And ever since I've returned from overseas, I've had a yearning to go back to my little patch. To visit my grandfather's grave, and to tell him that I visited the little village in Cornwall that he left as a child, and to reassure him that his father did the right thing when he emigrated. Because he gave us more than material comforts. He gave us space.

And I think that it is this space that is the soul of my country. And that is what the aborigines mean when they say that their spirits are linked to the land. There, in that space, their spirits can soar unimpeded by the earthly concerns that enslave we of European descent. I think I experienced it in my little outback town, but didn't recognise it. My aboriginal friends did, but they had forty thousand years start on me.

So, I've been listening to a CD of aboriginal spirit music that I bought in Alice Springs. You can listen to samples here. Close your eyes, and imagine yourself under the stars somewhere in outback Australia.

Then let your spirit soar.
 

The below article appeared in the newspapers today, which, I imagine, triggered a stampede into Dan Murphy liquor outlets by young and old alike. I'm now sipping on my $1.99/bottle shiraz. So what's it like? Well, it's definitely worth $1.99 a bottle. Read into that statement what you will.  I had to buy a dozen bottles. I figured I could always use it for paint stripper if I didn't like it. But this is Friday night, so I think it'll serve the desired purpose in creating the right, er, atmosphere, for more Friday night philosophy. You've been warned...

http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2008/07/04/2295078.htm?section=justin

Cheap booze adverts 'encouraging binge drinking'

Posted 54 minutes ago

A drug and alcohol expert says advertisements for cheap alcohol are encouraging young people to binge drink.

A major Australian alcohol retailer is advertising wine for less than $2 a bottle.

Dr Jake Najman from the University of Queensland's Alcohol and Drug Research Centre says it is irresponsible to sell alcohol so cheaply.

"To the extent that we make alcohol cheaper, we're literally encouraging young people to buy more alcohol," he said.

"The outcome of that is that a number of them will get injured and some of them may even die, so we're talking about really some very, very serious consequences."

Our reception spot

The Future Mr. Scotch & myself have been trying to find a good wedding song for our first dance as husband and wife. Well, that's a simplification. He said he has no opinion, but vetoed my choice, which was Little Red Corvette by Prince. Now, I haven't been to many weddings, but the ones I have attended have featured a LAME first dance song. I want something that's funky, soulful, and romantic. Any and all suggestions will be considered. We have 35 days left and I'm getting really antsy to pick one. Keep in mind, the first dance will take place at an outdoor luau here:

Alternately, if you agree with me that Little Red Corvette is an AWESOME first song, please post that sentiment here and perhaps my man friend can be convinced.

    This week is a jaw crusher.  A punch with a 80 pound rock named Pele that soldiers carry up a mountain in Iraq-- some form of military hazing.  Or desert boredom.  With internal bleeding, deafness in one ear, and a cracked rib, I think I know where this started. 

    I had this conversation with TOW about a party I went to.  It is the same story I could tell after any given party, really, with minor variation.  At this particular party I am drinking 151, ala peak alcoholism. 
Me: I went to this hulking(just saw that tonight) party with a cheap bar and a dj
Me: and I was just stumbling around into girls telling them I am emotionally vacant, swigging and instructing people to put their cigarettes out within a two foot radius of me-- I'm like a gas pump, guys.
TOW: What the fuck? Were you drinking the 151?

    I remember my friend Graham screaming at his phone, telling a mutual friend that we were at some HUUUGE PARTY!  I arrogantly shake my head, lay an open palm on his shoulder and say, "Stick with me, and this is every night."  So proud of my provincial party planet.  My ears pulse, pressure building.  My cracked rib from another drunken night, it's there, wrapped tightly and bound with 151/Budweiser cocktail.  Muted from notice.

    What TW would say now.  She would scoff at me for getting sick, for being this light, this unhealthy.  This desperate.  TOW goes through the same thing-- unable to achieve any sort of honesty with the man.  The other man is just a prairie vole.  I hear about prairie voles.  God, how some of us share this characteristic.  They're monogamous.  When other vole people aren't looking, they're fucking whoever they want.  Only in a social setting are those little vole mothers raising their kids with their prestigious computer science alpha voles. 

For caste when eyes present. 
For pleasure when eyes absent.

And here I am, doing the opposite, wanting that private life back. 

    Here I am, hacking up hard chunks of mucus with streaks of blood.  Throwing up bile or coagulated blood in the sink at sunset.  The summer sound-- the secada--crescendos with the dimming.  All things become blue.   
    I dream people in my bed.  Awake, I sleep. Asleep, I wake.  I toss and turn.  I burn, I freeze.  Uncomfortable in delusional conversations with the dead or fictional.  Zombies in my bed and spiders on my wall-- neither present when I return speech or reel back the lids.

    Drinking has ruined my bank account and my body these past two months, while you were off committing so soon and she was thinking of me.  I made rent with 5 dollars to spare(not counting savings, because in my mind that account is untouchable).  And this morning.  The big surprise.  The big letdown.  I go to Patient First because my doctor's office is closed for the holiday.   I do the insurance bullshit and step onto a scale.  Beep, beep, beep.  Three LCD lines do 'the wave' where I expect numbers. One final beep.  Electronic scales don't lie.  Two years ago, I weighed 185.  This past semester in school-- 175.  Now, with my current lifestyle, I weigh I mere one-hundred sixty-three pounds.  Maybe it's time to start writing more of that life, and live a little less of it.

2 more days until Dethklok plays and 58 until Nebraska kicks off their season.  Hells ya!  

THIS IS HAPPENING RIGHT HERE

IN OUR OWN COUNTRY!

We Must Stop This Immediately !

Have you noticed that stairs are getting steeper . Groceries are heavier.  And, everything is further away. Yesterday I walked to the corner and I was dumbfounded to discover how long   our street had become!  

And, you know, people are less considerate now, especially the young ones. They speak in whispers  all the time!  If you ask them to speak up they just keep repeating themselves, endlessly mouthing the same silent message until they're red in the face! What do they think I am, a lip reader?

I also think they are much younger than I was at the same age. On the other hand, people my own age are so much older  than I am. I ran into an old friend the other day and she has aged so much that she didn't even recognize me.

I got to thinking about the poor dear while I was combing my hair this morning, and in doing so, I glanced at my own reflection well, REALLY NOW - even mirrors are not made the way they used to be!

Another thing, everyone drives so fast these days! You're risking life and limb if you happen to pull onto the freeway in front of them. All I can say is, their brakes must wear out awfully fast, the way I see them screech and swerve in my rear view mirror.

Clothing manufacturers are less civilized these days. Why else would they suddenly start labeling a size 10 or 12 dress as 18 or 20? Do they think no one notices? The people who make bathroom scales are pulling the same prank. Do they think I actually 'believe' the number I see on that dial? HA! I would never let myself weigh that much! Just who do these people think they're fooling?

I'd like to call up someone in authority to report what's going on - but the telephone company is in on the conspiracy too: they've printed the phone books in such small type that no one could ever find a number in there!

All I can do is pass along this warning:
WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!

Unless something drastic happens, pretty soon everyone will have to suffer these awful indignities.

PLEASE PASS THIS ON TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW AS SOON AS POSSIBLE SO WE CAN GET THIS CONSPIRACY STOPPED!
PS: I am sending this to you in a larger font size, because something has happened to my computer's fonts - they are smaller than they once were.

http://news.ninemsn.com.au/article.aspx?id=591496

By ninemsn staff

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New York Times writer Jacques Steinberg (original on left).

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PHOTOS: Famous fake photos

Just completed a pretty major task for work, so took a random break and randomly stumbled across this thing about Birthdays, which lead me to a random thing about numerology. As you do. The internet really is full of a lot of crap, much of which I indulge in.

Anyhoo, I'm a 6. Normally I think these things are totally bogus, but this is seriously accurate.

The Life Path 6 suggests that you entered this plane with tools to become the ultimate nurturer, and a beacon for truth, justice, righteousness, and domesticity. Your paternal, or maternal, as the case may be, instincts with a 6 Life Path exceed all others by a considerable margin. Whether in the home or in the work place, you are the predominant caretaker and family head. While the 6 may assume significant responsibilities in the community, the life revolves around the immediate home and family, for this is the most domestic of numbers. Conservative principles and convictions are deeply ingrained and define your character.

You are idealistic and must feel useful to be happy. The main contribution you make is that of advice, service, and ever present support. You are a humanitarian of the first order. It is your role to serve others, and you start in the home environment. You are very human and realistic about life, and you feel that the most important thing in your life is the home, the family and the friends.

This is the Life Path related to leadership by example and assumption of responsibility, thus, it is your obligation to pick up the burden and always be ready to help. If you are like the majority with Life Path 6, you are one who will willingly carry far more than your fair share of any load, and you are always there when needed. In doing so, you take ownership and often become an authority over the situation.

In romance, the 6 is loyal and devoted. A a caretaker type, you are apt to attract partners who are somewhat weaker and more needy than yourself; someone you can care for and protect. The main ingredient that must prevail in the relationship is complete harmony. You don't function well in stressful relationships that become challenges for you to control. It is the same with friends, you are loyal and trustworthy. But there is a tendency for you to become dominating and controlling.

It's likely you feel compelled to function with strength and compassion. You are a sympathetic and kind person, generous with personal and material resources. Wisdom, balance, and understanding are the cornerstones of your life, and these define your approach to life in general. Your extraordinary wisdom and the ability to understand the problems of others is apt to commence from an early age. This allows you to easily span the generation gap and assume an important role in life early on.

The number 6 Life Path actually produces few negative examples, but there are some pitfalls peculiar to the path. You may have a tendency to become overwhelmed by responsibilities and a slave to others, especially members of you own family or close friends. It's easy for you to fall into a pattern of being too critical of others; you also have a tendency to become to hard on yourself. The misuse of this Life Path produce tendencies for you to engage in exaggeration, over-expansiveness, and self-righteousness. Modesty and humility may not flow easily. Imposing one's views in an interfering or meddling way must be an issue of concern.

The natural burdens of this number are heavy, and on rare occasions, responsibility is abdicated by persons with this Life Path 6. This rejection of responsibility will make you feel very guilty and uneasy, and it will have very damaging effects upon your relationships with others.

Except maybe the bit about being in relationships with needy people, because needy people piss me off. I like my men strong, silent and with well developed biceps and a love of gardening.