tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359436042025966312024-03-13T19:01:56.027+10:00Moth's RustI've lived for 39 years and will probably die in 39 years. This is some stuff that happened while I was here...
"Let it go. Let it out, let it all unravel let it free and it can be a path on which to travel" - Michael Leunigmothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-64677148504509113832007-07-08T17:06:00.003+10:002007-07-08T17:39:13.544+10:00Our Orange House (Sung to the Josh Pyke's "House in the Middle")When I was a kid I grew up in an orange house, not a cream or a white or a brick, but an orange painted house and I broke my arm on a two foot fence when I tried to break my fall and I fell out of the pool and I got a black eye and was able to wear an eye-patch to school but got in trouble in my grade four class for speaking out of turn about pirates but when I walked home I fought with a kid from another school and ripped his shirt and his parents came to my door and told me I was in a lot of trouble and I said I'm not, no I'm not.<br /><br />Once near the railway track there was a decapitated cat's head and we looked at it every day as we went to school and we were told about some bikers who once took a bite out of a live cat once but we didn't believe it cause it didn't sound right, but the new girl in town was ten years old and she told us all about sex and hung around the boys at the end of the street who rode their bikes at the bmx track and told us that she was promiscuous and she hung around us in the caravan that was in the backyard of our orange house, it was an orange house that the taxis always knew about.<br /><br />And my best freind stood on a nail in a piece of wood and hardly even cried but made me run for help but his parents laughed when they saw my panic and took him to the doctors for a tetanus shot, and my other friend who had a commodore 64 ran with me as we were chased by two men at night and he got a brain tumour and was allowed to keep a bed pan by his bed so he didn't have to walk all the way to the toilet in the middle of the night which he thought was cool but he sadly didn't live for long and his house smelt like mouse cage and the laundry sat in piles and our families loved the Catholic church where my brother's hair caught on fire as the alterboy behind him stood too close with the candle.<br /><br />I dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta you could never really see the top from the bottom i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta nowmothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-65034804169885437172007-06-21T23:20:00.000+10:002007-07-09T00:57:51.443+10:008 Random facts about me<p>I know more about Batman than practically anything else. I prefer DC characters to Marvel, although I do keep up with most mainstream comic continuities. My favourite read lately is the Marvel Zombie series... especially the crossovers with Ash (Evil Dead) from the Army of the Dead. I'm a geek, and am not entirely proud of it.</p><p>I still listen to some contemporary Christian music. Although I find a lot of lyrics puke-worthy, I still like Newsboys, Jars of Clay and DC Talk. God help me.</p><p>Sometimes when I listen to people talk I count the syllables in their sentences and try to add words that will round the number off to the nearest ten. When I was younger I would scratch the skin just above my knee in unison with the count. I still find that spot a nice place to itch.</p><p>I don't have any trophies, I've never won anything due to skill or knowledge. I have no skills. I don't play any sport. I'm quite uncordinated. These eight random facts about me aren't painting an attractive picture.</p><p>I'm hopelessly addicted to the Internet: blogging, youtubing, forums, e-mail, downloading comic books, chatting, cyber-flirting, photosharing, website building... actually the only vice I haven't become addicted to is gaming. That'll come.</p><p>I love horror movies. I love it when I'm so lost in a movie that I actually care about what happens to the characters to the point where I'm really nervous. I mourn inwardly when they die, and hope they survive. I hate horror movies that have the main character survive only to die at the last second or early in the sequel. That sucks.</p><p>I hate magicians, I hate not knowing how a trick is done. It annoys me no end when these guys have me actually questioning reality. I wish they could at least say, "Don't worry folks, there's a trick to it, we're not supernaturally endowed".</p><p>I have a fear of toads. The thought of these creatures completely repulse me. I hate them passionately and wish they didn't exist. I think I would rather staple my thumb to the desk than have to touch. I would rather read Leviticus than to go near one. At the house I'm sitting there is a large lifelike concrete statue of a toad (why?); I tried touching it and felt like I was going to vomit. </p>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-90236687876833679892007-05-20T10:12:00.000+10:002007-05-20T10:44:59.433+10:00Surname: Bainbridge<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_d59uMvI4WwWQj_7jpHX7igPslaLpNE_sywM3rh4YYKbS6AKrsy_09r_1t-AM_zuEqoWSAbrNzqVQGdSi93Ff-w82V_FBnpToTBr2sEcQjRP4lSqO3KVnf05LdGUFx5ny_qJZCI1SBrbc/s1600-h/bainbridge+crest.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066437351429761890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_d59uMvI4WwWQj_7jpHX7igPslaLpNE_sywM3rh4YYKbS6AKrsy_09r_1t-AM_zuEqoWSAbrNzqVQGdSi93Ff-w82V_FBnpToTBr2sEcQjRP4lSqO3KVnf05LdGUFx5ny_qJZCI1SBrbc/s320/bainbridge+crest.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This is an English locational name from the place so called in the parish of Aysgarth in North Yorkshire, which stands on the River Bain. The derivation of the river name is from the Old Norse word "beinn" and the Old English pre 7th Century "brycg", meaning "bridge". There is some doubt about the exact meaning of "beinn", it is usually taken to mean "straight", but also in a transferred sense, can mean "handy" or "direct", and thence "helpful". The sense would easily apply to a convenient bridge across a river, of course. Locational names were often given to those people who left their original place of residence in this instances by the direct bridge across the river, and went to live or work in another village or town. The first recorded spelling of the family name is shown to be that of Matilda de Baynbrigg. which was dated 1301, Subsidy Rolls of Yorkshire. during the reign of King Edward I, The Hammer of the Scots, 1272 - 1307. Surnames became necessary when governments introduced personal taxation. In England this was known as Poll Tax. Throughout the centuries, surnames in every country have continued to "develop" often leading to astonishing variants of the original spelling. </div>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-24179916643977438522007-04-23T19:24:00.000+10:002007-04-23T22:23:33.998+10:00Tinnitus - The freaking sound of silence<p align="left">Tinnitus is a huge part of my life and the bane of my exisitance. The drama queen in me needs a bane I suppose. I'd have rathered something else though. Check out the following video to see exactly how I've been living for the last 4 years. I've habituated it mostly but it's always there. It reminds me I'm alive and that's what I let it do. </p><p align="center"><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aQgLT_UUEqU"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aQgLT_UUEqU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></p><p align="left"></p><p align="left">I decided to make a whole other blog dedicated to the topic for those ships in the night that pass and need to hear how others have gotten themselves through the hard times. I'm really happy to have been for you at that dark time Barb. Millions of blogs out there girl. Makes me wonder about time and chance. </p><p align="left"><strong><a href="http://soundsliketinnitus.blogspot.com">Find the "Sounds like Tinnitus" Blog here</a></strong></p><p align="left">It's got videos, and links, and poems, and feeds to the latest information in Tinnitus research. I'll journal my tinnitus stuff in there from now on. It's for those who share in the ailment and want a place to vent and the like.</p>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-49271811888308672602007-04-12T20:28:00.000+10:002007-04-12T21:51:14.931+10:00Gone camping<table style="WIDTH: 194px"><tbody><tr><td style="BACKGROUND: url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat left 50%; HEIGHT: 194px" align="middle"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/mothnrust/TheresaCreekDamn"><img style="MARGIN: 1px 0px 0px 4px" height="160" src="http://lh4.google.com/image/mothnrust/Rh4DtPP6Y9E/AAAAAAAACY0/SHbUAduATSg/s160-c/TheresaCreekDamn.jpg" width="160" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="FONT-SIZE: 11px; FONT-FAMILY: arial,sans-serif; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><p>Theresa Ck Damn - Click for pics</p></td></tr></tbody></table><p align="justify">You know what I like about camping? Everything 'pops' up. You squeeze everything into the boot and when you arrive everything folds out or is pumped up (like in that episode of the Goodies). It's like a live action pop up book. Tent, boat, beds, tables, chairs - pop! I really am easily amused.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">We found a decent camping spot about 80 minutes from Moranbah. It's called Theresa Creek dam and it's not far from a little town called Clermont - a town not big enough for franchise fast food shops like Red Rooster, but it does have two IGAs. The camping ground is by a nicely sized dam stocked with Golden Perch, Jewfish, Saratoga and Silver Perch... I'll have to suit up and do some fishing next time. No really. Maybe. It's a catch and release system, which is good for me because I prefer the quick and easy fish and chips (Red Rooster have fish now... seems they serve any white meat... except rooster... oh, I forgot... poor Clermont, sorry, none for you).</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">The campsites are free for shire residents and has plenty of toilets and hot showers. It's really dry out here, so the campfire wood is really dry and burns quick. We spent all night poking things into the fire to see what happened to them. My coke can disappeared in seconds! That's hot.</p>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-45420177996397545382007-04-07T18:57:00.000+10:002007-04-07T19:54:53.083+10:00Peter BainbridgesHave you ever Googled yourself to see who else shares your name? There's a certain kinship with people who share the same name... it has a ring to it that only they can understand. Sort of like finding people with the same birthdate. I decided to seek out these 'kin' of mine and contact them, if possible. I'm feeling like the bastard child of them all, because I seem to be finding a lot of talented and amazing people - all I can do is type. I'll blog any responses I get. Perhaps I can at least rub in the fact that I got a peterbainbridge gmail account before they did.<br /><br />This blog may serve as another vain attempt to pander to my ego and my bizarre love to say my name 'Danny Crane' style (ala Boston Legal), but this is my Saturday night and this is how I choose to spend it. By the way, I'm watching 'Little House on the Praire' with the kids (don't cry for me)... and I'm deep and down with a flu. I just hope this page isn't used by some weird serial killer with a vendetta against Peter Bainbridges.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.birdsbirdsbirds.co.uk/acatalog/Peter_Bainbridge.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 89px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" height="148" alt="" src="http://www.birdsbirdsbirds.co.uk/acatalog/Peter_Bainbridge.jpg" border="0" />Peter Bainbridge</a> is a self taught artist, born in 1964, he began painting wildlife in 1994 and lives in the UK. Peter has a whole mess of hair that I often dreamt of growing. I was inspired by Iva Davies to grow my hair long, but it always turned out to be a pathetic mullet that for a short time was long enough to put into a small pony tail. He looks a little like Meatloaf in this photo, but ruggedly handsome like all Peter Bainbridges should be.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.peterbainbridge.com/"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050612877070342338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="42" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Aegf1Q0ca2tuY0sm7xHLu-RMjwT9IFIqEHUet0M-QcexeUzBJauQOAYJGOlJiC_0QgaS076f9enUoWypSeJ7bRLVYpkElBl7n8Yy5bgZ_Kb7UhyyrlgyanoD25klk3cQFn5a565ztbhH/s200/peterbainbridge.com.jpg" width="198" border="0" />Peter Bainbridge</a> is a well established photographer with an impressive website. It looks like he beat me to getting the domain on the name at <a href="http://www.peterbainbridge.com/">http://www.peterbainbridge.com/</a>. He's got an excellent gallery that's well worth looking at. Some artistic b&w body parts with interesting contours.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.penwith.gov.uk/index.cfm?articleid=15441">Peter Bainbridge</a> - Senior Sustainable Development Officer at Penwith District Council. Sounds boring but I'm sure he rocks at parties.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.geocities.com/baptist_documents/bainbridge.peter.html">Peter Bainbridge</a> - Baptist minister <span style="color:#6633ff;">(umm... so <u>not</u> me):</span> Among those who might be considered the pioneer band of Baptist ministers in Kentucky, Dr. Peter Bainbridge was distinguished for grace, pathos, and solemnity. He spoke much more impressively than he wrote <span style="color:#6633ff;">(This guy is the opposite of me!).</span> He was charmingly colloquial and in the pulpit he was peculiarly grave, smooth, and attractive <span style="color:#6633ff;">(Some of those terms I might use to describe myself, but not many others would).</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;"></span><br /><span>An optometrist, an auctioneer, a yachting champion, a business man (who does business?), and lots of others who probably deserve a mention for having such handsome names, but I'm getting pretty bored with this subject now. Dad's original name was Mapleston so I almost feel like a fraud now seeing the blood isn't actually within the name. Hang on, I'll google Peter Mapleson... hmm... just a few dozen websites of a guy who blows glass and plastic. Peter Mapleston blows... says it all.</span>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-56927724928542298222007-04-05T15:44:00.000+10:002007-04-12T21:42:14.958+10:00An interview with me - 50 questions1. Name one thing you could not live without?<br /><em>It's a tie: Stilnox sleeping tablets and broadband Internet.</em><br /><br />2. Name something you'd love to never see again.<br /><em>A toad... or a heart attack inducing car mechanic's bill.</em><br /><br />3. What color is your bathroom rug?<br /><em>Fifty questions and this one takes up 2 percent of them? meh... burgundy</em><br /><br />4. Did you ever wear braces?<br /><em>Yep, best money anyone ever spent on me. Thanks mum... I used to have teeth like Elton John or Madonna. Actuallly come to think of it, those guys are rich and talented. Thanks a lot mum!</em><br /><br />5. Extrovert or introverted?<br /><em>In front of a crowd or my classroom or online I'm an extrovert, but in real life I'm finding myself more introverted as it continues.</em> Wait... is this question about bellybuttons?<br /><br />6. What do you make of all this Anna Nicole Smith saga?<br /><em>She had a manly sort of face, but interesting mammory glands.</em><br /><br />7. What's the population of the city you live in?<br /><em>Around about 10 000</em> plus me.<br /><br />8. Have you told a lie today?<br /><em>Probably. Umm, no! (that's a lie).</em><br /><br />9. Name something you're good at doing.<br /><em>Ranting online about crap</em><br /><br />10. Now, something you do badly?<br /><em>I'd need a whole other list to reply to this. Let's just start with, 'catching a ball'.</em><br /><br />11. Who do you share your secrets with?<br /><em>That'd be Troy. Plus there are too many people who do know too much about this and that... vague I know - sorry, the answer to that is a secret in itself.</em><br /><br />12. Who's your best friend?<br /><em>I had someone I called my best friend in High School, but they died. I don't like calling people best friends anymore. Wife is obligatory although true, I suppose. It's also true to say though, that there are others who know various aspects of myself better than she does. Hey, simple question... what can I say? I'm complex.</em><br /><br />13. Do you lie about your age?<br /><em>Just started doing that lately. I'm going to be 35 for a lonnnnng time.</em><br /><br />14. Confrontation or avoidance?<br /><em>Ohhhhhh mannnn.... anyone who knows me at all knows the answer to that one. Confrontations give me the flu.</em><br /><br />15. What's the last film you watched?<br /><em>'About a Boy' on TV, and 'Little Miss Sunshine' on DVD, and 'Apocalypto' at the Cinema. Loved all three. Next movie will be '300', probably - looks funtastic.</em><br /><br />16. What about books?<br /><em>'Andy Kaufman Revealed!: Best friend Bob Zmuda tells all', and 'On Blondes: From aphrodite to Madonna, why blondes have more fun', by Joanna Pitman. I always read two or three books at the same time.</em><br /><br />17. Do you enjoy eating sushi?<br /><em>I've never tasted anything so disgusting. Like licorice, coffee, beer and smoking, I just don't get the fascination.</em><br /><br />18. Name a place you long to visit.<br /><em>Any island that has great reefs and ample sea life. I would like to see the pyramids, but if I die before then, I'm not fussed.</em><br /><br />19. Now tell me somewhere you would refuse to go?<br /><em>Central Australia... who wants to go further away from the coast?</em><br /><br />20. Do you believe in life after death?<br /><em>Nah, I think the clue is in the word 'death'.</em><br /><br />21. Do you talk to God?<br /><em>I used to but got fed up with being ignored. You can only go so far with a one sided conversation before you realise you're talking to yourself. See the other </em><a href="aintchristian.blogspot.com"><em>blog</em></a><em>.</em><br /><br />22. Any regrets?<br /><em>Yes. And that's another list I would need to make that I seriously don't want to.</em><br /><br />23. If you could be anyone else in the world for just one day, who would you pick?<br /><em>Jim Carrey<br /></em><br />24. Who would you never want to be?<br /><em>That poor ugly kid I used to sit next to in high school.</em><br /><br />25. Why wouldn't you want to be that person?<br /><em>I'm vain and would probably slit my wrist if I couldn't afford the rhinoplastery on my nose.</em><br /><br />26. Tell me something that makes you uncomfortable.<br /><em>The thought of losing my job... or losing my teeth... the hair's ok.</em><br /><br />27. Now, something you are completely comfortable doing?<br /><em>Being lazy.</em><br /><br />28. Do you have a favorite childhood memory?<br /><em>Camping on the beach at Fraser Island. </em><br /><br />29. Worst one?<br /><em>Listening to the old man screaming... or imagining him screaming when I ran away after accidently throwing a canoe through his windshield. I still have that canoe.</em><br /><br />30.Think of a song that describes how you feel at this point in your life.<br /><em>Pete Murray - opportunity</em><br /><br /><blockquote>So it goes another lonely day. Your savin time but your miles away - Your fly was drownin in some bitter tea - For seeing lost opportunity - Find your mirror go and look inside - And see the talent you always hide - Don't go kid yourself well not today - Satisfaction's not too far away - Hold on now your exits here - It's waiting just for you - Don't pause too long It's fading now - It's ending all too soon - you'll see.</blockquote><br /><br />31. What was the last social function you attended?<br /><em>Teacher work party. Too many teachers...</em><br /><br />32. Is your life what you thought it would be at this point?<br /><em>Mostly... halfway through it now. It's not too bad but I'm not sure I'll ever own a freaking house.</em><br /><br />33. You can change one thing about your life right now.<br /><em>Pass, thanks. A decent car would be good though.</em><br /><br />34. Is there anyone who knows everything about you? All of your secrets?<br /><em>We sorta had this question. There's a girl I talk to online that I trust with stuff. She swaps too... we could crucify each other if we needed to. knowledge is power eh gal?</em><br /><br />35. Is there anyone that you trust completely?<br /><em>A few girls.. not guys.. they're too male... I'm a male and I know not to trust us. Ahh, except Troy, but China is far enough off to feel safe. We'll shake hands one day pal.</em><br /><br />36. How did you find your way to your profession?<br /><em>A blonde girl named Ainslie convinced me it was the way to go</em>. <em>This is all your fault girl!</em><br /><br />37. Do you believe in life long monogamy?<br /><em>Monogomy? Is that like monopoly?</em><br /><br />38. What's your favorite food?<br /><em>Curry, green curry, red curry... heck I'll take any colour. KFC floats my boat too.</em><br /><br />39. Favorite alcoholic beverage?<br /><em>New Smirnoff Cola<br /></em><br />40. If you could talk to anyone in the world, who would it be?<br /><em>Michael Leunig... philosopher, cartoonist, poet. That's his work at the header and footer of this blog. Ohhh and Bill Watterson of 'Calvin and Hobbes' ... ohhh and - Jesse Jane.. she's such a talented actress.</em><br /><br />41. What would you say to that person?<br /><em>Thanks for the great moments?</em> All of you...<br /><br />42. What was the first concert you went to?<br /><em>Elton John with the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra</em><br /><br />43. The last?<br /><em>That's so sad I can't even bring myself to say it. It was probably a Christian band or something. </em><br /><br />44. Are you a gadget guru?<br /><em>I love having a reasonably up to date laptop and desktop PC. I hate my phone for being one year old. I need an Playstation 3 and I love fiddling with my blogs.</em> I love the widgets.<br /><br />45. What is the ring tone on your cell phone?<br /><em>Madonna's 'Hung up'</em><br /><br />46. Tell me 3 things you are afraid of.<br /><em>Toads, car problems, and a particular teacher.</em><br /><br />47. Give me the names of your 3 favorite television programs.<br /><em>Prison Break, Curb your enthusiasm, Letterman.</em><br /><br />48. What do you think is worse: having your heart broken by the one you love or breaking the heart of the one you love?<br /><em>The latter.</em><br /><br />49. Name a behavior of other people that you don't understand.<br /><em>Cruelty</em><br /><br />50. What is something about you that you think others would not understand.<br /><em>Tinnitus.</em>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-34102928027872277722007-03-19T21:09:00.000+10:002007-04-12T21:51:56.023+10:00You are here. Well, I am, you're not. Wish you were here... not. Here's the damn blog<table style="WIDTH: 194px"><tbody><tr><td style="BACKGROUND: url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat left 50%; HEIGHT: 194px" align="middle"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/mothnrust/MoranbahYouAreHere"><img style="MARGIN: 1px 0px 0px 4px" height="160" src="http://lh3.google.co.uk/image/mothnrust/Rf555vsDahE/AAAAAAAAA-A/sppbnJCTEV4/s160-c/MoranbahYouAreHere.jpg" width="160" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="FONT-SIZE: 11px; FONT-FAMILY: arial,sans-serif; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: #4d4d4d; TEXT-DECORATION: none" href="http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/mothnrust/MoranbahYouAreHere">Moranbah..<wbr></wbr>.. you are here!</a></td></tr></tbody></table><p align="justify">...Click the pic pictures of the house and the entrance to Moranbah. Callum is pointing at a big black spot on the map, but it's not all that bad - Really! So far I've only noticed a few really hot days out here. Seems comparable to the coast, in my opinion. I like the weather here. Actually, this morning it was fresh and cold and we've hardly needed to use the aircondtioners... plus, it's been raining regularly.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">I woke up feeling sick, but I'm not a sicky-from-work kinda guy. I suffer from guilt-stress I think;<span style="font-size:0;"></span> probably from all those churchy years. I want to save my sickies for when I'm really sick, because they'll be coming, sure as Simpsons repeats. Anyway, I woke up today and the car wouldn't start, and the bike tyre was flat... it wasn't yesterday. Ahh, yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. I had to use the scooter to get to school, which was sorta cool. But one word of advice... don't try loading up a scooter with a 24 pack of Pepsi-Max. I went to Coles last night and I tried to stand on top of the Pepsi to ride it home. After the second crash it got messy. The blokey miners in this town don't seem to take this sort of crap, by the looks on some faces. I don't care... stupid is as stupid does.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">Jasmine and Callum rode home from school alone and got lost on the way. She fell off her bike and came home crying and being a wuss. Sorry Jas, but if you fall off your bike ya gotta get back on again. I got in trouble for sending my wife off to the car electrician on foot and carrying a heavy battery. Life's a bitch but what are ya gonna do eh? Sorry Kess, you should use the scooter next time.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">One of Jasmin's first words were 'Wally'. She got it from repeatedly wanting to replay Wallace and Grommit. I wonder if it was an omen? Her father would once become the biggest wally of them all. We shouldn't have dismissed the warning so flippantly.</span> </p>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-11227793110573125432007-03-12T22:31:00.000+10:002007-04-02T19:07:55.812+10:00New Zealand: Full of Zeal but hardly new<table style="WIDTH: 194px"><tbody><tr><td style="BACKGROUND: url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat left 50%; HEIGHT: 194px" align="middle"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/mothnrust/NewZealandHoliday2005"><img style="MARGIN: 1px 0px 0px 4px" height="160" src="http://lh6.google.com/image/mothnrust/RfQKX_sDUrE/AAAAAAAAANg/n0FBxGcRmig/s160-c/NewZealandHoliday2005.jpg" width="160" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="FONT-SIZE: 11px; FONT-FAMILY: arial,sans-serif; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: #4d4d4d; TEXT-DECORATION: none" href="http://picasaweb.google.com/mothnrust/NewZealandHoliday2005">New Zealand Holiday200<wbr></wbr>5</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div align="justify">(Click the pic for the full gallery) This is an old post from July 2005<br /><br />New Zealand is green, really green, and there are lots of hills and sheep. Each hill seemed meticulously planned and sculptured. I wanted to run up each one - Julie Andrews style -, but that’s just me, I'm told - they don't care for that crap in New Zealand. Sheep are sprinkled on every hill like so much dandruff and there are cows everywhere (Yeah, I hate it when people say ‘<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">like so much</span>…’ too). Even in the middle of Auckland I saw cows. Man, that and the Warehouse (post <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Silly Solly</span>) bargain stores! The people have the strangest accent in the world and they don’t seem to realize it. When quickly is pronounce quuckly you know something needs to be adjusted. It’s impossible to even spell the word quuckly. A ‘q’ and two ‘u’s? Can’t be done… it’s just wrong.<br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify" align="left"><br />New Zealand television seems to be obsessed with cows and Coronation Street. There are only 3 main channels but I seemed to find enough to keep me interested late at night. Big Brother is three weeks behind and is shown weekdays at 12..? Gee, why bother… why Big Bother… perhaps these Kiwis are smarter then they seem. New Zealand comedy is actually pretty funny and I’m not sure why it is that I’m surprised by that. They are a sarcastic lot and as far as life is concerned, they seem to get the joke. I like that about them because not many nations are onto that. Take South Africa for example. They are sort of like a bizarro New Zealand, they have a funny accent but are totally not in on the joke (do you know what I mean? is it just me? Why are South Africans so pompous?)<br /><br />The coastline around Auckland is just beautiful and rugged and every bay comes free with at least one island. One particular Island – Goat Island off Leigh - was so dreamlike to me that I had to come back with snorkeling gear so that I could swim out to it and touch it. Looking is not enough sometimes. If I wanted to look I would have hired the video. I am the biggest wimp when it comes to cold water but I just didn’t care. It was freezing, but after a while I became so numb that it didn’t matter. I got to the island and explored some caves. Cool. Definitely a highlight… especially the extraordinarily friendly fish that followed me around and the waterfall that fell into the crystal clear turquoise waters there. The friendliness of the fish was only just surpassed by that of the people (syrupy, but true).<br /><br />Even after admonishing them for continuing to speak the way they do they still fed me and asked me if there was anything they could do about the weather. It’s either raining or it’s briefly pausing between showers. It’s an amazing place. It really is. The weather is cold so God provides hot springs and sulphuric steaming mudpools. The public toilets are ten years ahead of the rest of the world with swooshing automatic doors, push button toilet paper, light sensitive soap/water/air dispensers and many of the stainless steel walls had drilled holes in them so that you could see into the cubicle next to you. Ummm… actually that was a bit strange but I didn’t question their customs.<br /><br />Apparently there are no cockroaches in New Zealand. I saw one though out in the backyard and told my hosts about it. They didn't believe me... as they were vebalising their disbelief, the very same looking cockroach crawled along their couch. Did I bring them over?<br /><br />The house I stayed in had it’s share of ghost stories and we were not disappointed. One night as we went to sleep, we heard someone walk passed the room and use the toilet and we gave it no thought. Why would we? The next morning we found out that no one went to the toilet. Our hosts who slept in the room at the end of the hall have their own ensuite and don’t use the one adjacent to our room. This made for some interesting questions concerning the afterlife and the loo.When I look back on my holiday in New Zealand I remember the impossible greenness of it all, I remember the naturally heated thermal stream I soaked in, hidden and away from the tourist traps, and I remember being held up in customs for trying to bring home two air propelled plastic bb guns. Damn, I miss those guns.<br /></div><p><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0);font-size:100%;" ></span></p></span>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-80606289923789385002007-03-12T20:53:00.000+10:002007-04-07T11:40:49.261+10:00Movie Moments<div id="msgcns!C02592A17C3A3149!2335">Hundreds of movies are made per year (not counting porn or Bollywood) and I have hardly the time to keep up with the new ones seeing as my money and time are limited... plus there's too much quality of tv (do not debate me on this!). I wonder why I even spend so much time trying to burn and collect old movies. I haven't got time to watch them again! But there are puh-lenty of great movie moments that I'ld like to revisit. Perhaps I should do a collection of movie moments - sort of like a music collection.<br /><br />You know how you put all the best mp3s on one CD. Most albums only have about 3 or 4 decent songs on them and many movies only have a few decent scenes. This would be my compilations of movie moments (and yes, I know that the lead up and build up is important but let's just focus on the moments for the moment.<br /><br />Excluding horror movies... 'cause that's a whole other post:<br /><br /><ul><li>The final Crane kick in the Karate Kid </li><li>The scene where the Captain joins in with his kids in a verse of Eidlevies (sound of Music) </li><li>When William Wallace dies while yelling FREEDOM </li><li>When the boy is reunited with his mother (Life is Beautiful) </li><li>Indiana Jones simply shoots the sword wielding bad guy </li><li>Obi Wan screams, "You were meant to be the chosen one" </li><li>Robocop blows away the bad guy and is asked his name - "Murphy" </li><li>Bill Murray trying to kill himself in Groundhog Day </li><li>The T-rex attacks the tour car in Jurassic Park </li><li>Ramis and Murray's banter in the recruiting office - Stripes </li><li>"I'm innocent!" "I don't care!" - The Fugitive </li><li>Street fight - Superman 2 </li><li>Evil Dead 3 - Ash suits up and roars the chainsaw </li><li>Clock tower - Spiderman 2 </li><li>Axel at strip show - Beverly Hills Cop </li><li>Forklift suit verses Alien queen - Aliens </li><li>Any scene in Sin City </li><li>The sword duel in The Princess Bride </li><li>The town meeting in Footloose</li></ul>Very tempting to list mostly the final moments of a movie... those moments that lift your heart before the credits roll.<br /><br />eg. When the essay is read out in The Breakfast Club or Dundee walks over the crowd's heads to get his girl...<br /><br />The Breakfast Club - One of my favorite scenes is when John Bender is lecturing the rest on how belonging to a school club is rediculous and Brian timidly announces that he's in the physics club. When Bender asks him what it is that they do in the physics club, Brian replies "We study physics...and properties of physics."<br /></div><br /><div class="wbx-widget" id="fc0fc79f-5268-493f-9add-fb2d9fce7e73"></div>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-2005362542954896082007-03-07T21:17:00.000+10:002007-03-12T00:46:42.677+10:00Underwater, no one hears you thinkSwimming is boring.<br /><br />I'm progressively getting better in the pool and I'm currently doing over half a kilometre without stopping. I wish there were waterproof mp3 players available for lap swimmers; there probably are. You're locked into looking at a black line at the bottom of the pool and thinking over your own thoughts. I've thought all of my thoughts before, so it can be pretty boring going through them again.<br /><br />I'm often thinking about what to blog and I get heaps of ideas. By the time I get to the PC I realise that the ideas were pretty crap and that my readers and future self will bore themselves to tears reading them. This is dedicated to all the blogs I could have written but thankfully didn't.<br /><br />Thoughts I have while swimming laps in the pool:<br /><ul><li>I wonder if people think my webbed swimming gloves are weird?</li><li>I miss talking to people who actually know me.<br /></li><li>I think <span style="font-style: italic;">Daredevil: The director's cut</span> was vastly superior and probably my favourite superhero movie.</li><li>I'm so glad teachers have some respect for Croc shoes out here.</li><li>Pepsi Max tastes so much better than Diet Coke. I don't understand how anyone could think otherwise. Zero Coke sucks also. The new Smirnoff and Coke = fantastic.<br /></li><li>Reading Christians vs Religion websites is like reading geeks argue over which spaceship is faster - The Millennium Falcon or the USS Enterprise? I'm sure the Millenium Falcon was vastly superior to the 999 Falcon.</li><li>Swimming laps would be much easier on the neck if I used a snorkel. Is it okay to use a snorkel? Are there some things you simply shouldn't do?</li><li>I'm getting broadband next week. The first thing I'm gonna do is download all the episodes of 'The Extra'. That's the first thing I'll admit to downloading anyway.</li><li>I should blog more but if no one comments soon I'm gonna feel very unloved!! Nah, that sounds a bit needy. Who needs comments... comments are for attention seekers. I'm a tough loner.<br /></li><li>It's been seven weeks since I've seen the edge of this country.<br /></li></ul>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-90132713873524874222007-03-01T18:06:00.000+10:002007-03-14T00:09:10.539+10:00From Maroochydore to MoranbahI was born, bred and buttered on the Sunshine Coast all my life - 35 years - and it was time to leave. I knew that becoming a teacher would someday mean I would have to leave town but I suppressed the inevitables and bit the bullet. I hoped I'd get lucky and end up in a small well equipped town with cheap teaching accommodation. It turns out, I eventually did get lucky on that front.<br /><br />Leaving the coast felt like being expelled from Eden, and six hours into the twelve hour drive I choked on the idea that I'd been cast out into the Australian outback because of poor life planning or inadequacy. I expected to see cherubims with flaming swords behind me. I've played my cards and I've made mistakes, but here is where we are and it's much better than I expected.<br /><br />As we drove closer to Moranbah we drove under the darkest skies I'd ever seen. If I was superstitious it would have felt ominous, except that rain clouds in this area are a hopeful sight. It rained for about four days non stop because of a cyclone off the coast. The heaviest longest rain I have seen in a long time and very unusual for the area. The town is usually dry and brown but for the time being everything is as green as New Zealand on St. Patricks day.<br /><br />The first thing you notice when you enter Moranbah is the wide streets and lack of traffic lights. Not a traffic light in sight and no roundabouts either. I'm sure this is a land my father dares to daydream about. I've never seen anyone despise the ruby hued illuminations as intensely as he does.<br /><br />On exploration of the town, there's something else that struck me as unusual... something not quite right... Unchained bikes at public bike racks! Nobody locks their bikes up! At the schools, the public pools, the town centre - it's open slather for would be cyclist cleptomaniacs. Bring a truck up here and pillage should you be that way inclined, they're ripe for the picking.<br /><br />It's a great town. The library is modern, cool, and very well stocked. The Video Ezy caters for all the spendthrift mining men and has a selection of DVDs I've never even seen equalled in major cities. The public swimming pool is very inexpensive to join and has a large 25m heated pool along with a kiddies pool and a 50m sparklying blue respite from the sun. I swim nearly every day and am more wet more often than I was on the Sunshine Coast.<br /><br />There's 'more-in-bah' with a Red Rooster, a KFC, a Dominos, a nice cinema with recent releases, a decently sized Coles and an indecently sized Target. The town square is being refurbished and should look great in a few weeks. Everything is an easy bike ride from home and no one drives fast. If I was a sportsmen I'd be a happy man, but I'm not so I don't care... alienating as that might be for me, it's nice to know I've options should I become a team player.<br /><br />I miss my friends, I miss my party pals and I miss my bud - heaps. 1200 kms doesn't feel too far anymore and the net 2.0 keeps us together on some new age level. Friends are rare and they're hard to make and they're hard to keep, especially when you're an alien in a strangish land.<br /><br />In short, it is a great town and we've settled in; the people seem nice and my internet connection works fine. Broadbanding it before too long and will blog about the house and school soon.mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-71016157780608725712007-02-25T18:02:00.000+10:002007-02-25T18:05:00.965+10:00My name is MothYou know the premise to the show 'My Name Is Earl' co-starring the amazing Jaime Pressly? Well, for the unlearned, Earl wins a lottery ticket only to lose it when hit by a car. He believes Karma is doing a number on him for the rotten life he has lead. Earl writes a long list of things he needs to make right, and after he starts his mission he happens to find his winning lottery ticket. Thereon in he continues to follow up his list.<br /><br />Well here's my list. I won't be able to make it all public because that could possibly result in a lot of serious consequences. I'm far too young and pretty to go to jail... and always will be. Let me just say, for now, that all the things I have stolen have mainly been from incredibly large faceless organisations. Others, I'll pay them back when I can afford it.<br /><br />Will I be able to make all these right? Nah, but I'll let you know when and if I do. Don't judge me by this list please; it's all in the past. I'm a really super nice friendly amazing guy now. Hey Jo?<br /><br />1. Mark (Jughead) Smith. In 1987 I repeately squashed bananas into his pencil case and stole and discarded his school text books. You didn't really deserve that even though you were a total dick.<br /><br />2. Pommie, Sawry and the other library nerd guy. Those homemade chocolates were laxatives (as you found out). Sorry.<br /><br />3. Jason (Chuck) Mountney, I graffitied all over your house that 'you sucked' and 'that you were gay'. You and karma already got me back puh-lenty on that one, so let's just call it even eh?<br /><br />4. The Maroochydore Surf Club 1988. I destroyed the backstage wall in a drunken bid at showing off my muscular power.<br /><br />5. I regularly stole softdrink and chocolates from my church canteen. Meh... actually you won't be getting that back.<br /><br />6. I made public something about someone that should never ever have been posted to a public forum. Actually, I achieved bygones on that one, I think.<br /><br />7. I've recently snuck into two movies without paying.<br /><br /><b>** - This all actually sounds like bragging doesn't it???</b><img src="http://s.bebo.com/img/smiley.gif" /><br /><br />8. I think I bullied my little brother as he was growing up and affected his personality in some way. I also stole his share of the smurfs... dammit.<br /><br />9. I borrowed my dads new outboard motor and put in the wrong type of petrol (instead of two-stroke). I wrecked it.<br /><br />Hmm, I'll leave it there for now. Actually I'm finding it hard to think of things that need to be set right but I'm sure more will come to me soon. Until then. Play safe, and chew your food forty times.mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-8191490858658354552007-02-24T12:04:00.000+10:002007-02-24T12:06:25.296+10:00Venetian blindsThe funniest part was just being born.<br />Then came school... I hated it. Pain, fear, cheese.<br />I ran over a dog once; That was bad.<br />Everything is just so damn expensive!<br />Life isn't at all like venetian blinds.<br /><br /><strong>Mexicans have very large hats<br /></strong>Mexicans have really large hats, don't they? It must be a hassle when a lot of them are standing in a group or riding really fast on their horses. Not very aerodynamic, I don't think. They'd be a pain to store away. They curve upwards around the rim - that seems strange to me... no good in the rain. It'd fiil up.<br /><br />Gotta be good for the sun, I suppose. Why do cowboys and mexicans and all these american desert people wear so many clothes? Wouldn't it get really hot with trousers, vests... those scarf things around their necks?<br /><br />I'd wear a singlet sometimes.mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-91381260148031183072007-02-24T09:43:00.000+10:002007-02-24T10:10:56.218+10:00My Firsts<div align="center"> </div> <div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Geneva, Arial, Sans-serif;font-size:130%;">I was bitten by a radio-active man</span></strong></div> <div align="center"><strong></strong> </div> <div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Geneva, Arial, Sans-serif;font-size:130%;">I now have the powers of a man!</span></strong></div> <div align="center"><strong></strong> </div> <div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Geneva, Arial, Sans-serif;font-size:130%;">My costume - cargo pants and polo shirt</span></strong></div> <div align="center"><strong></strong> </div> <div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Geneva, Arial, Sans-serif;font-size:130%;">Weaknesses - chores around the house</span></strong></div> <div align="center"><strong></strong> </div> <div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Geneva, Arial, Sans-serif;font-size:6;">Man-man</span></strong></div> <div align="center"><strong></strong> </div> <div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">fighting for truth? Justice and another snack.<br /><br /></span></strong><div style="text-align: left;"><span id="BlogViewId" sortmode="NormalWithPaging" sortkey="" firsthandle="cns!C02592A17C3A3149!2351" lasthandle="cns!C02592A17C3A3149!1816"><h4 style="margin-bottom: 0px; font-family: arial;" class="TextColor1" id="subjcns!C02592A17C3A3149!1875"><span style="font-size:180%;">Firsts</span></h4><div id="msgcns!C02592A17C3A3149!1875"><p><strong>First time on the internet...</strong> on a PowerPC Macintosh Computer with Caloundra.net in 1998 </p><p><strong>First memory</strong>... I think it had something to do with toffee apples </p><p><strong>First car</strong>... 1973 Citroen CS (nice ride... but a bastard to maintain) </p><p><strong>First video ever rented</strong>... animated 'Lord of the Rings' - about 1984 </p><p><strong>First ever crush</strong>... Blonde katie Russel in Primary School (where are you now I wonder) </p><p><strong>First book ever read...</strong> I'm pretty sure it was the Lion witch and Wardrobe after grade 4 teacher read the Magician's Nephew to us. </p><p><strong>First record</strong>... Sesame St Disco (first cassette - Fr Abraham in Smurfland) </p><p><strong>First CD...</strong> The sound of Music </p><p><strong>First concert...</strong> Elton John touring with the Melbourne Symphony orchestra 1987? </p><p><strong>First comic book</strong>... Batman: A death in the family - 1989 (the issue where the second Robin gets crowbarred to death by the joker. Actually I'm forgetting the millions of Richie Rich and Archie comics I used to buy.. oh and the Smurf comic books. they were great and I still have them. </p><p><strong>First job</strong>... Selling newspapers to caravan park residents </p><p><strong>First kiss</strong>... Stranger in Queen St Mall, New Years day 1987 </p><p><strong>First plane ride</strong>... to Sydney on the way to the States </p><p><strong>First hippidy dipiddy</strong>... 1988 while gf's parents were at church </p></div></span></div><br /></div>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-66067324312991879292007-02-21T19:39:00.000+10:002007-02-21T19:45:01.393+10:00Nightclubs... was too young, then too Christian, and now...Now I'm too old. What? What? Can't hear you! What? Oh yeah! Uh-huh *nods* What?!!<br />I don't get nightclubs -I just don't. I went to O'Mallys last for a drink with some new friends. They said it was the place to go, and being the idiotically curious person I am, I agreed to go. You don't go to these places to talk, it seems. You go there to waste money on booze and scream your throat sore while trying to hold a simple conversation. This is the sort of place where you need to use Messenger or carry little emoticon cards. It just confused me, the whole thing, but it was fun to people watch. People are kinda stupid, but a lot of the female ones look fantastic.<br /><br />Much to my shock, I found the place was sprinkled with people who I went to school with in 1988. 17 years! This is where they've been hiding. And you know what I found out? Once someone is a dickhead, they are always a dickhead. Oh oh, and this girl... one of the spunky ones who still looked spunky at 35 gave me a kiss and a hug. I'm sure she was aiming for the lips but I didn't know what to do. You know that whole 'greeting kiss that could be either cheek or lips'... it was awkward. I actually tried to get to the dancefloor but couldn't. I think it would take more confidence than I'll ever have to squeeze into a crowd of madly swaying 'dancers?' and get the jiggy on. I tried to go to the toilet later on as well. Ha, fat chance. I did line up for a while until the realisation hit me that there was no way I was going to be able to urinate knowing a crowd of men were lining up and waiting behind me. I had more chance urinating on the dance floor.<br /><br />Oh, and I found out that nearly everyone else is successful apart from me. It's really depressing chatting to old school freinds (none of them were friends anyway in grade 12, I hated everyone). I spent way too many years building an ARK waiting for Jesus to return in some sort of fiery flood to actually think about life (that's my excuse anyway). I'm still secretly hoping for the world to end or go into some sort of major apocolyptic tribulation actually... that'd be something to see. Oh yeah, I bumped into a former church goer there too who was trying to share with me the basics of Quantum Physics. He had to scream a word into my ear every five seconds or so. I pretended to hear him and kept smiling and nodding. I have no idea what he was on about. He had been drunk for ten hours so was doing pretty well to expain the mysteries of the universe over a cover version of Tenacious D's 'Greatest song in the world'. Nice guy... mad as a hatter. Looks EXACTLY like Michael J Fox, but is getting sick of hearing that repeated.<br /><br />MONDAY (today) "Warning READERS, this blog contains whinging"<br />It looked like it was going to be a rainy day today but it only ended up raining for about ten minutes. And guess when it rained for ten minutes? Oh, I knew when it was going to rain... I knew it would rain during the only part of Monday that I didn't want it to. 11.15 am. 11.15 AM! The only short part of the day that I get to myself to sit down without the classroom kids. Instead, I had the ratbags in a wet weather lunchroom break. Honestly, it seems like the weather is playing games with me. This isn't the first time either, and you can talk about mathematical cluster and chaos patterns that SEEM like coincidences happen at inopportune times, but i know BETTER!!!!<br /><br />Yep Jo, it's time for another 'Woe is me' blog. On Sunday night as a friend was leaving, we were talking about flus and colds. I stupidly said that I've been feeling good for a few weeks and may have kicked this re-occurring sickness that seems to be plaguing this f**cked up year of mine. After she left, I had this feeling in my throat like I'd swallowed a stainless steel scouring pad. Then came the mucus. Bah... I think I might develop one of those OCDs soon where you are too scared to touch anything that hasn't been wiped or disinfected. I might even wash the bean bag cover down one day.<br /><br />I had this OCD in high school (and still do a little) where I'd count the syllables in whatever I heard then scratch out the number on the skin just above the knees. Does anyone else scratch there? It's sort of a nice spot to scratch. Perhaps it's an erogenous zone. I used to count syllables very quickly on my hand and add words to them to make it a multiple of ten. I noticed Shakespeare wrote often in multiples of ten. I admired that, but hate bloody shakespeare... It's completely boring to me, but what the bleep do I know.mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-47008186552334718862007-02-21T19:04:00.000+10:002007-02-21T19:08:59.583+10:00I hate blackboards.<p>I truly hate blackboards. I hate the sound they make and I hate trying to write on them. The chalk keeps breaking off in my hand. It's like Clarke Kent trying to use a mobile phone... surely he crushes the thing every time he presses a button. I mean he's a guy who can stop a speeding Boeing 747. He'd have to show some incredible restraint when shaking someone's hand. Wouldn't his hand feel like rock? And how does he hide that cape? I think it'd bunch up behind his shirt. He'd look like a hunchback. Of course no one recognised Clarke as Superman... "<em>Ol' hunchback Clarke we call him in the office, yeah sure he looks like Superman but the guys a freakin' hunchback. Deformed bastard!"</em><br /><br />So yeah, I much prefer a whiteboard except that the pens dry up so quickly. I still can't write neatly like that. There should have been sign writing classes at uni. My board writing looks retarded. Still, other teachers seem to be able to do it.. sigh. "<em>That freakin' Mr B.. can't even write straight; deformed bastard."<br /></em><br />School sux. Yeah ok ok, we get lots of holidays and a decentish pay. But, flip, I don't seem to be able to turn off. Marking everynight, paperwork, journaling the bad behaviour, planning tomorrow's lessons, thinking up ways to keep them from going feral, playing mind games with the evil ones. It's my job to educate these kids before they turn into homeless street punks. I KNOW I"ve got potential supervillains in my classroom.<br /><br />I'm tired and I want to watch LOST and go to bed without worring about the next day. I want to watch Prison Break without Imagining the brats in my class ending up in there. Sadly, I actually want one of my students in there. Some of them already think they are. I gotta relax in the classroom more I think. I can't take it too personally when kids fail my exams. Perhaps I should just make my exams easier... good idea.</p><ul><li>Play ground duty sux.</li><li>Wet weather lunches are depressing as hell</li><li>Parents and their carpark mafias... grrrr</li><li>Staff meetings are truly boring</li></ul><p>Actually, I'm being negative because there are heaps of good things about teaching. I'll talk about them next time. I doubt I'll get any sympathy from this blog... just eye-rolling. I deserve that. Whinging is much more fun than goo goo ga ga perky praising. </p>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-74349042188627928162007-02-21T18:32:00.000+10:002007-02-21T18:37:29.536+10:00The Red TrolleyWhen I worked in a warehouse, I bought a shiny new red trolly after the old one had finally pissed me off enough. It was red with pneumatic tyres. One day I lost it. I had no idea where it went, so back I went to using the old one.<br /><br />Later that day I walked down to the corner shop to get a burger, and guess what I found on the side of the road? A shiny new red trolley. It must have been mine. Someone had swiped it and loaded it with those books. They were the books sometimes left in workplace staffrooms to purchase via an 'honesty system'. So, I took the books off it and wheeled it back to my warehouse.<br /><br />After about 20 minutes a frantic woman came to my door looking for her trolly. We had a little conversation about how awful thieves are. I couldn't believe the gall she had to come looking for the trolley she had stolen from me. After she left to continue her search, my manager came back from doing some deliveries. Unknown to me, he had borrowed the red trolly. I now had two shiny new red trolleys. One, mine, and the other I had 'stolen' off an innocent girl trying to deliver books door to door.<br /><br />I ran after her with the trolley and said I snatched it off some teenagers who were playing with it in the storm drains.<br /><br />She thought I was a hero... which was a nice feeling.mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-50724180693134073632007-02-20T22:04:00.000+10:002007-02-20T22:16:14.201+10:00Everytime - By ME (with a nod to Butterfinger)<p>Everytime the surf is good I get a cold or flu<br />Everytime I surf the internet I don’t know what to do<br />Everytime I try to help someone I only make it worse<br />Everytime I sang a song in public I wish I’d have rehearsed<br />Everytime I go out, I spend too much money<br />Everytime I say a joke out loud it’s never seen as funny<br />When I buy something major it’s half cheaper the next week<br />Everytime I try to haggle I just get a yellow streak<br />Everytime I have a lunchbreak I get called away<br />Everytime I go to a new school the teachers think I’m gay<br />Everytime I try to argue someone else is quicker<br />Everytime I try to eat healthy I only get more sicker<br />Everytime I try to sleep… the bloody phone rings<br />Everytime I try to find something, I lose other things<br />Everytime I forget my mobile phone I miss an important call<br />Everytime I type your I end up with a you're<br />Everytime I tape a late night show I miss the last five minutes<br />Every picture of me lately makes me look really fat in it<br />Everytime I forward a video and press play, it’s at an ad<br />Everytime I recommend a video they watch it and get mad<br />Everytime I drink alcohol I feel like crap<br />So why do I do it… cause I’m a naughty chap.</p>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-72357315841471524062007-02-20T17:48:00.000+10:002007-02-20T18:37:22.659+10:00Freaking Tinnitus - The bloody loud sound of silenceI wonder what I wouldn't do... what I would do... what I could do... to stop the bloody siren in my head that is Tinnitus. Apparently it's common in ten percent of the population but only a small percent of those people's quality of life is affected by it. OOOh, I feel so lucky now! I'm one of the tortured few.<br /><br />There is a line of thought that Tinnitus is the result of a deficiency or something you are putting into your body that you shouldn't. I think many conditions probably are. I believe that to some degree. I was always told as a kid that one day I would pay for not eating my greens. I would regret a diet of sugar and fats. I was hoping for a heart attack at 65... I thought that was a good pay off for all the KFC and coke I could eat and drink. Nah, I can't deal with that sort of guilt, that sort of regret. I know of very healthy people who suffer with Tinnitus.<br /><br />It seems there are many other terrifying and deadly things that your body can do in revenge for poisoning it or 'whatever'. It puts up with a lot - our body - but it can only be pushed so far. It's amazing how amazing it is, but it's also amazing how many different things there are that can go wrong with it. I suppose we miss things more when we lose them. A blind person would probably swap his condition for deafness, and vice versa. I would chop off my legs for seven days of golden silence. I would give up chocolate and Coke if I was guaranteed it would heal my ears. I haven't the will power to give these things up for long enough to find out. Dammit. It's just so expensive to eat all the organic food that is needed (or not needed).<br /><br />Eat all food raw... they must be organic... picked that week... not peeled... not cooked... no tap water... no sugar... no bad fats... you must stand on one foot while eating barley wheat... blah blah blah. If I'm going to live life with this freaking condition then I want to be able to sip on cold Coke while eating bbq chicken pizza. If I can't then it isn't living anyway.<br /><br /><strong>The horrible beginning:</strong><br /><br />I started to get a ringing in my ears in July 2002 and I assumed it would go away. It was hard to sleep but I didn't stress because I was sure it would go away soon. Two days later I woke up to the sound of cicadas and I asked my wife if she heard it. She said she did... and I cried with relief that perhaps it was all in my head and that there was a cicada in the house?? I looked up this 'ringing' on the Internet. Big mistake! There was a cicada permanently lodged in my frontal lobe.<br />I was now educated to the fact that this condition has no cure. The noise got louder as the days passed. It has remained loud but varies depending on how tired I am. If I have an afternoon nap (or try to) it attacks me like a frakking foghorn. I often broke down and curled up into a foetal position wishing myself to death. Crying until tears dried up. Praying for death. Hoping for death. Crying was not helping but it was all I could do. Crying alone at my computer. The thought of death was so comforting. My death would devastate too many people I loved... it was not an option but was still comforting to know that one day I would die because it's definite and would stop the ringing. I still have no fear of death and still do look forward to it, sort of. Until then I will enjoy as much as I can... I will try to live for my children and for their happiness.<br /><br /><strong>God and tinnitus</strong><br /><br />I had little hope for recovery and three years later I have no hope, but am habituating it better some days. Back then though my God had deserted me. My faith was tried and I failed to fit God into the scenario. I am still angry at God but am not really blaming Him; I mean I don't know if he really exists, and his continuing silence isn't helping him. I am tired of praying. If he's there, he heard me the first time. Pray in tongues, pray and fast, pray hard, cry out to God, demand of God. Whatever I did, the volume of tinnitus didnl't change. It sux... why did God allow tinnitus... why did he design and allow toads to exist. I'm angry about the toads. I hate tinnitus, toads, traffic lights, terrorists, and many other words starting with the letter T.<br /><br />I did 'feel' I was partially healed once, during the early tinnitus years... and it felt miraculous. The tinnitus was coupled with vertigo which used to come and go. It was terrible; really really terrible. I couldn't even walk straight during these bouts of vertigo and they would last up to six weeks at a time. Without trying to look like I'm garnering sympathy, I have to admit it was mental and physical agony. While praying once... the vertigo stopped. It has not come back in the last three years since that night. That is good because I could not cope with both (my heart goes out to those with meniares desease... I want to hold you all and cry with you and pray with you all)<br /><br />I do find comfort in thinking this is a learning experience and a challenge. That's what life is.<br />Life's not a song... life is not bliss... life is just this... it's living (Jos Whedon, Spike, Buffy the Vampire slayer). Well, that's a quote from a vampire with no soul. Still, life isn't easy and it's not supposed to be. It isn't all that bad though because there's lots of pretty stuff to look at and pizza to eat.<br /><br /><strong>Vain attempts to cure myself</strong><br /><br />For months I kept a portable radio on me so I could listen to the static. It was like candy for my ears. I showered 2 or 3 times a day for the blissful masking effect of the water. I bought every type of small radio I could find. I got so sick of explaining to people why I had earphones on. Even when at university during lectures I had to wear them. I must have looked like a bloody lunatic. Sometimes the radio would pick up a signal instead of white noise and the whole class would look at me. People always regard me as something af an oddity so most didn't bat an eyelid.<br /><br />I barely survived many sleepless nights full of anxiety attacks and panic attacks. I tried a few sleeping pills until I discovered the magic of Stilnox. 30 months later I still thank the gods for them. I have tried to wean off but am terrified of returning to the nights of hell and torment I endured while willing myself to sleep.<br /><br />I must have spent about a year in absolute depression... and not the chemical imbalance one... I'd like that one... at least there's medication (I tried anti-depressants but they all made me feel a hundred and thiry-five times worse... WORSE... omigod how freaking bad did I feel... holy crap... note to myself... never ever ever take another anti-depressant!!!!!!!!!!!).<br /><br />My wife could not understand the depth of sheer despair I was experiencing and I was protecting her by not sharing. People tell me that I should have. There's nothing anybody can do to help me so there is no real point in sharing the pain with them. I am very empathetic to the pain of others. I can't watch the news because I feel too much sorrow for the victims of tragedy. The sympathy of others doesn't help. I have tinnitus and it's my problem. I have tinnitus... you don't have to worry about. I like it that other people can't hear what I do. I love it that my kids can go to sleep and not hear this cursed siren.<br /><br /><strong>Advice to new tinnitus sufferers</strong><br /><br />So why am I sharing this in my blog? Maybe someone is about to start the painful journey I have been on. Learn from my mistakes please. You don't have to make the same ones. Don't mask it out with radios. Get therapy from tinnitus therapists and believe them - they know. It really is just a noise, it won't get worse but it won't go away either. You must accept it and don't waste time looking for magic cures because they aren't out there. I have a feeling that an extreme change of diet would help... well, it certainly wouldn't hurt.<br /><br />I researched literally hundreds of online websites and remedies. I was more than desperate and clutched at every straw I could find. I spent over two thousand dollars going to hypnotherapists, acupuncturists, chiropractors, bowen therapy, naturopaths, and about six other therapies that I cannot remember. I prayed. I went on different diets. I detoxed. I prayed. Everything takes three months to work (apparently) and I couldnt get passed two before trying something else. I needed a healing and I need it next week.<br /><br />I cried so hard and so silently. I cried so much but would not let my wife or kids know. I learnt how to cry without showing it in my face. Tinnitus was bad enough but to have my wife and kids mourn and grieve for my pain would not help it. It would only spread it. That comforts me when I do. it takes away the loneliness to some degree. Other people live in this world where silence is a dream.<br /><br />Many of these people I meet have learnt to habituate the tinnitus. They usually have it under control in about two years. I have always been a slow learner and poorly disciplined. I hate myself that I am still on sleeping tablets but will not beat myself over it too much. I suppose I have become selfish. I will spend money on myself if it will make me happy and stuff all those people who don't have tinnitus. Imagine not having tinnitus and being depressed. I am angry at people who don't have tinnitus and still think they have the right to be depressed about their lives. Of course I have always been a bit self-centred and am starting to realise that I am hurting other people which is bad... and sad. Stuff 'em. You don't have tinnitus so you're ok! I see that the reasoning sucks there and my tongue is in cheek. I'm sure wheel-chaired people are amazed that fully functional walkers can get depressed about their favourite tv shows being cancelled (I am still upset of Angel being cancelled after its 5th season... waaahhhhhhhh).<br /><br /><blockquote>Tinnitus... pronouced "tin I tuss" or "tin it tiss". I hate it... I<br />freaking hate it when I tell a doctor I have 'tin It tuss' and they say...<br />oh "Tinn uh tiss".... or vica versa... <em>shees</em> man... it can be pronounced either<br />way... most dictionaries pronounce it "tin it us". This is my one pet hate in<br />life... well, one of them. That and toads... freaking toads.</blockquote>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-9463793651499653962007-02-18T19:51:00.000+10:002007-02-18T19:52:08.619+10:00Daisy the Dog<div>I'd always considered myself a 'cat' person, but then I met Daisy.</div> <div> </div> <div>I decided to walk home from school and stop by at the public swimming pool for a quick swim. It was another hot day in Moranbah in outback Queensland. It's not way out back, but far enough. It was a twenty minute walk, but that was far enough in the sun for a physical exercise newbie like myself. </div> <div> </div> <div>As I got to the main road through town I was joined by a small puppy... Daisy. I tried to shoo her away, because I thought that such a new and small pup was going to be missed by its owners. I've never had a dogso I didn't think much of it and thought it best not to give her any attention in case I lead her away too far from home. Ignoring her didn't work and she didn't understand words like 'go home' or 'shoo'. I imagined she must wander her streets often and that she would soon toddle off and go back. She didn't. She stayed with me. She just kept on walking with me, by my side, and in front of me, and between my legs, almost tripping me over more than once. I was worried. How long should I walk before I worked out how to get her home? </div> <div> </div> <div>As we neared the public swimming pool, after what seemed like a lot of walking, I thought about who I could ring to report a lost dog. Who do you call? The police? We got to some long grass. The area had received an unusual amount of rain and there was long grass waiting to be mowed everywhere. I think in this town of ten thousand people there are only about fifteen lawnmowers. She stopped at the long grass and I continued on, thinking that she'll now turn around and return home. As I walked on I heard her cry. </div> <div> </div> <div>I'm told that humans are the only animals that cry. Apparently, we're the only animals that have tear ducts. Whatever the case, this little pup was crying like a baby. I thought she was tangled and hurt in the grass and in pain, but on closer inspection I found her curled up and lolling around hopelessly and crying for help. She knew she wouldn't find home herself. She KNEW it. My heart broke and I didn't care how many doors I had to knock on; I'd find her owners. I picked her up, gave her a quick cuddle, checked her pink name tag and turned around. She jumped excitedly and stayed in front of me, full of hope. <span></span> </div> <div> </div> <div>We came across other walkers who commented on the cute pup. Each time I asked for advice or if they knew of anyone who'd bought a new dog recently. One said they'd seen a similar looking puppy at Rosewall street. I knew Rosewall street as I'd stayed there for a few weeks recently. For a short time Daisy started following one of the walkers but luckily she quickly realised they were going the wrong way, and she came back to me. We took the next turn and walked down a couple of blocks towards Rosewall, but before we got there Daisy paused for a while and sniffed, as if thinking. A few houses later she turned into a driveway and into the arms of her owner. We exchanged greetings and I saw the relief in his eyes. His kids were still out frantically searching the streets. </div> <div> </div> <div>It was extremely satisfying.</div> mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-62571813394558197262006-10-06T09:54:00.000+10:002007-10-06T09:57:35.478+10:00Pulp Fiction of a Perfect StrangerMORTAL THOUGHTS keep me in SIN CITY<br />Where THE HUDSON HAWK flies NORTH<br />to escape THE BONFIRE OF VANITIES<br />While waiting for my own APOCOLYPSE<br /><br />A SEIGE cometh,'ARMAGEDDON' IN COUNTRY times<br />My SIXTH SENSE warns me of the STORY OF US,<br />and that I'll be THE LAST MAN STANDING<br />wide awake in THE BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS!<br /><br />Those BANDITS, think me THE LAST BOY SCOUT,<br />But LOOK WHO'S TALKING? all the TWELVE MONKEYS?<br />IN STRIKING DISTANCE of BILLY BATHGATE; THE JACKAL;<br />THE PLAYER; ALPHA DOG; and me, the FIFTH ELEMENT<br /><br />UNBREAKABLE men and A DIE HARD, GRAND CHAMPION<br />Struggling to go the WHOLE TEN YARDS<br />THE KID in me can run for 16 BLOCKS<br />My VERDICT is we'll only need the WHOLE NINE YARDS<br /><br />Sweating like NOBODYS FOOL on a BLIND DATE<br />With the MERCURY RISING in the SUNSET<br />I hide from the her TEARS OF THE SUN<br />In the cover of the dark COLOR OF NIGHT<br /><br />This FAST FOOD NATION has Weakened me<br />like CHARLIES ANGELS: FULL THROTTLE in a GRIND HOUSE<br />Where is MY LUCKY NUMBER SLEVEN?<br />All I wanted to be was an ASTRONAUGHT FARMER<br /><br />OVER THE HEDGE where NANCY DREW's DEATH BECOMES HER<br />I become NATIONAL LAMPOONS LOADED WEAPON ONE<br />in my HART'S WAR, mumbling to myself insanely...<br />BEAVIS AND BUTT-HEAD DO AMERICA while RUGRATS GO WILD<br /><br />At last! THE RETURN OF BRUNO... A GURU COMES!<br />THAT'S ADEQUATE... I wanted Picket fences and FOUR ROOMS, <br />THE FIRST DEADLY SIN was MOONLIGHTING<br />at OCEANS 12 while FRANKY GOES TO HOLLYWOODmothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-23984958582086204932006-10-06T09:44:00.000+10:002007-10-06T09:45:34.355+10:00I'll huff and I'll snuffWell the three little pigs they had a plan<br />They didn't want to end up as smoked ham<br />The three little pigs weeed all the way home<br />And on entering found it not their own<br /><br />That Goldilocks had been at it again<br />Three bears once before, now bacon men<br />Gee, little girl we think it'd be nice<br />if you'd pick on instead the three blind mice<br /><br />So they tossed her out and fixed up the chair<br />while they worked the big bad wolf came there<br />He'd just been dining on Red Riding Hood<br />and now he thought, 'Hmmm, pork is good'<br /><br />But the three little pigs knew of this plot<br />'Cause it's one of the only two he's got<br />They'd an asbestos house for him to puff<br />and when he huffed and puffed, he snuffedmothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-49423417575708595542006-10-06T09:24:00.000+10:002007-10-06T09:29:32.089+10:00Superior Heroes<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfK3xW9puCchwkMF58BRKi5MTVnnL_l9fwZH3955hkWbAqhhJ0CirBFRzRHDI1xyegNKvf2d_oGaVhDB3Ma9by87_Nxmmxre-VAYhP3OSulo5wrZ6y3ksNLbTWICDA3WIUbkSUNLhlFP3s/s1600-h/JLA+3419_a_full.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117998438650143794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfK3xW9puCchwkMF58BRKi5MTVnnL_l9fwZH3955hkWbAqhhJ0CirBFRzRHDI1xyegNKvf2d_oGaVhDB3Ma9by87_Nxmmxre-VAYhP3OSulo5wrZ6y3ksNLbTWICDA3WIUbkSUNLhlFP3s/s200/JLA+3419_a_full.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">What maketh a Hero<br />to rise above?<br />Is it truth or honour?<br />Is it love?<br />What maketh them super<br />above me or you?<br />What makes them better<br />than what they do?<br /><br />Invincible power<br />Incredible health<br />Sometimes they're mutant<br />or just born into wealth<br />But there's something else<br />there's something within<br />that makes them better<br />than the average villain<br /><br />Although mythical creatures<br />they embody a presence<br />A trait they feature<br />A purified essence<br />A noble cause<br />An unright avenged<br />And sometimes honour<br />Sates their revenge<br /><br />Weakness prevailed<br />Aliases hidden<br />Carnal pleasures<br />are forlornly forbidden<br />Discipline halts them<br />to do what they could<br />To silence that evil<br />and stop it for good</span></div>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-835943604202596631.post-65119249105250079642006-04-12T01:05:00.000+10:002007-04-12T11:08:27.894+10:00Sonic the Hedgehog<script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript" src="http://napping.supergames.ch/content?width=400&lang=eng&game=126"></script>mothpetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13794245127293355300noreply@blogger.com0