Work footy tipping prize? $390. I rule!
Six Feet Under returns to TV next Monday night. Woo hoo!
Taped John Safran vs God, just watched it. Bloody funny.
Media Watch. Click on it and turn the volume up nice and loud. What a classic. (If you’re at work or within earshot of the kids, check the transcript instead.)
Well the last weekend of footy tips has just gone, and there was a great article in Saturday’s Age about the whole phenomenon, well worth reading.
I’ve had a good year in the footy tipping. So when at the start of the weekend, I was equal first in the work competition, and leading by 1 point in Tony’s competition.
Now it’s the end of the weekend… and I’ve got a big eight out of eight.
As it turns out, so did my competitor in the work competition. So I guess we’ll be sharing the prize money.
But what about the Tony Malloy memorial footy tipping urn, possibly the ugliest trophy ever to be awarded in any field of human endeavour, I hear you ask? Well, there’s no way runner-up Trish could have scored nine out of eight and caught up, so I guess the urn will be coming to live at my house.
I’m not much of a gunzel really. The world of gunzelism is something that can range from mild interest in things railed through to knowing everything but everything there is to know about every tramway and rail carriage and engine ever in service (and quite a few that never were).
In conversation some months ago, I discovered that Marita and Justine’s test of gunzelness is as follows:
Question: What is the name of the railway tunnel underneath Footscray station?
A. What tunnel?
B. I’ve noticed that tunnel, but have no idea what it’s called.
C. The Bunbury Street tunnel.
According to their theory, if you answered C, you’re a gunzel, even if only mildly.
This is nothing particular to be ashamed of. I concluded long ago that everybody’s a geek in some way. All of us know more about at least one topic of conversation than the average person. Okay, so some people take it to extremes, but we all have to have hobbies.
So anyway my mild gunzelic tendencies took me down the street this evening to the station, to get a little video of a steam train. It’s Steamrail’s yearly Snow Train (which I’ve been on once or twice). Just after 7pm it came thundering through. The mighty R-class engines are always an impressive sight, perhaps not ideal pollution-wise, but nonetheless a testament to the skill of the engineers who built them.
I’d love to post some video, but the sound track of the aforementioned thundering was ruined by the sudden arrival of the local morons, whooping and shouting such insightful exclamations as “It’s f—ing Puffing Billy!”
Welcome back to the next installment in my celebration of the mundane.
Here are my bins, all three of them, posed together. (They normally only sit together on the kerb on garbage day, which is Friday morning in my neck-of-the-woods.)
As usual, hold your mouse over stuff in the picture to read about them. (Firefox users will have to right-click, choose Properties, then scroll through the title text.)
Want to post yours? Link in the Trackbacks or comments.
Was having a chat with my sister earlier in the week about birthday presents. She said she was sending quality, not quantity. And you know, this is a philosophy I agree with. I’m at the point where I have a well-paid job and if there’s something I want, I can just go and buy it (well, up to a point). Obviously I’m lucky in this regard, and it may not always be like this once I get a mortgage, but that’s how it is right now.
Price is always a factor in buying presents, of course. But perhaps the best gift is something the recipient will not only like, but also that they either haven’t thought of, or is not easily obtainable by them.
My sister certainly kicked goals in gift-buying department: a book about the London Underground (which at first glance appears to be in a similar spirit to the excellent Seven Wonders of the Industrial World) and a Tintin 75th anniversary t-shirt. Thoroughly excellent.
Apart from that, my work colleagues presented a chocolate cake and snacks and sung Happy Birthday to me (tradition in our office). Ex-wife gave me a gigantic Haigh’s chocolate frog (which mostly retained its shape despite being in my car for a full day). And my mum and Peter treated me dinner, and gave me the new super-dooper remastered The Kids Are Alright double DVD set (it looks brilliant, the restoration brings new life to the movie and the music) and Bill Bryson’s Short History of Nearly Everything and a big Toblerone.
All in all, not a bad haul. Quality, not quantity.
Except the chocolate. I’ve got scads of that.
Right, that’s it. I’ve had it with this government. It was one thing lying about Children Overboard and going to war despite being told it would increase the threat from terrorism, telling us it would decrease the risk. (See here for the ALP’s list of Howard’s lies, and here for the Liberals’ reaction.)
But this: the PM spamming?
I’ve long taken the attitude that won’t buy something advertised by spam, and equally no way am I voting for a party that spams.
…about this pot. It’s been sitting next to the sink since Sunday, with this burny mark in it. I don’t want to use steel wool ‘cos it’ll stuff-up the enamel surface. Yeah it’s one of those Le Cruisset (or however you spell them) French pots. I’m not much of a cook, but I love it. Admittedly I only ever cook bolognaise sauce in it.
Really must get it cleaned properly, before the current bolognaise batch runs out.