Monthly Archives: July 2008

Rain, much?

A couple of the rocket scientists at Lita’s office spent 18 hours without electricity over the past weekend.  Imagine, no telly?!  Who cares about hot water and kai, they had no friggin telly!  None, nada, nien, no way, zip zop on the televisuals. 

Another work colleague had to contend with falling trees as he navigated a dangerous drive home during the worst of the storm.   Only to get home to … no telly!  Ugh.  When good rain turns bad. 

The bus lane is quicker, but wetter.

All of these dramatic anecdotes and pictures make Lita’s story about the wonky fence falling down seem minor and tres trivial.

Word of the week: Weatherbomb

Keep warm and dry folks.  Ride the storm.  Make love, not puddles.  Or, make love in puddles.  Say no to weatherbombs.  Avoid ferries and boats.  Gumboots are the new black.  Black gumboots however, are tres LY, avoid.  The wet look is the new gumboot.  Kia kaha.

Map of Online Communities

This map is brilliant. 

Lita has been lost in the Sea of Memes many times and everyone has almost drowned in Noob Sea at some stage.  I hate the vast, emptiness of MySpace but could holiday at the Gulf of YouTube or the Wiki Isles every day of the week, except for our third world bandwidth.

Do not use for navigation

The first flame burns hottest

Nite Fite: You won’t get fooled again

The talented Dan Meth, of The Meth Minute 39 fame, has a crack up new spinoff series, Nite Fite

Too exciting

Penalty and Lloyd go at it each week over a hot topic, and you vote for who you agree with.  Stick shift or automatic?  The Bermuda Triangle: hoax or real?  The Who: CSI sellouts? 

Those who love Meth Minute shiz will be thrilled to see some well-loved/hated characters cameoing over at Nite Fite.

Quality larfs.

Rules for dating my daughter

Daddy’s Rules for Dating

Rule One:

If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a carton of beer, because you’re sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two:

You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them.

Rule Three:

I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four:

I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world sex without utilizing a ‘barrier method’ of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five:

It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is: ‘early.’

Rule Six:

I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven:

As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process than can take longer than painting the Sydney Harbour Bridge . Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight:

The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool, places where there is darkness, places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka – zipped up to her throat. Movies with strong romantic or sexual themes are to be avoided; movies that feature chain saws are okay. Cricket games are okay…Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine:

Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten:

Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi . When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early then return to your car – there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

Mind the DD gap

Dog whispering to a sweet sleepy tune

This guy puts any Dog Whisperers to shame.