Transformers review

No I'm not going to spoil anything so don't worry.

Instead of going home on my half-day today I went to the cinemas...by myself...in work clothes. Before you laugh, it was the middle of a working day in the middle of a working week when everyone else is working! (or at uni). At least that's what I tell myself to ease the pain of being a loner and help me sleep at night. :P So anyway, with the cinemas being 200m away from where I had to be in Glen Waverley this morning, I thought...why not? Convenience is a nice word in the dictionary.

So I ended up watching Transformers. Oh yes, that's right. It was time to nourish the nerd within yet again, and what better way than to feed it generous helpings of big F-ing robots in digital graphics, shooting up anything remotely resembling an object. And how sweeter it is when those robots are the very same ones that you loved to watch back before you even knew how to do math. I think I shot myself in the foot a little by watching all the trailers for this movie beforehand. Nonetheless I will confess to shaking in anticipation as I sat there watching the first transformer, well... transform, and then again when Optimus Prime rolled up en queue for his first appearance, and then once more during the climactic battle. At least I kept my mouth shut in that early-afternoon quarter-filled cinema, unlike the other nerds in the cinema that were audibly gasping as Prime transformed for the first time. If you have no idea who or what the hell I'm talking about, then you're most likely NOT a nerd. Congratulations. I had some dude sitting to my left. He was pumping his fists in the air a few times during the movie because he was so excited. I wanted to slap him like something chronic. Regardless, he didn't wreck what was otherwise a pretty sweet movie experience.

Like 300, this movie delivers where it needs to deliver. Acting was good but nothing spectacular and the human characters were mere props in the end. In terms of storyline, whilst it was essentially nothing more than what you'd expect it did surprise a little. Whilst by no means will this ever appear on an English class syllabus, it did have its little complexities. The developing relationship between the boy and Bumblebee was brilliantly put together. The real stars however were the dudes in the graphics studios rendering the Transformers themselves. You know the digital graphics are good when halfway through the movie you totally forget that the robots are basically just a bunch of pixels, albeit LOTS of pixels. That's what happened with this. This movie pretty much rewrites the book on how to seamlessly blend artificial graphics with real-life objects, environments and actors. And then there's the sound...yikes. When the smashing and bruising occurs, you'll know about it, and you won't look away.

A couple of tiny little gripes. More just me being a tightarse than anything else. It took a little while for it to get going, though that was probably just 'coz I wanted the smashing and shooting to begin asap. The movie certainly didn't feel like it dragged. And with the storyline, there was very little closure. But you'd expect nothing else from a movie that already has the second and third sequels signed up. I guess the only real gripe about the movie was that it was another case of "America is the World!" Meh, Hollywood... at least the Aussie actress got to keep her accent in the movie.

So long as you get over the implausibilities of some of the things that happened (look ma! I'm a giant robot that can tower over the neighbourhood so quietly that not a single soul is stirring) and the odd bits of humour that was mixed in (I can see die-hard fans writing death letters to the director yelling "how dare you try to put humour in our beloved robots")... then sit back and enjoy being a kid all over again :D

Out of 10...give it an 8.5. Can't wait for the sequel... apparently they might make an entire aircraft carrier transform :0

Sex, cough medicine and rock and roll!

Blogging at work...how bored am I? Ok so the sex bit of the title is somewhat of a lie. But this cough is still here. It's starting to piss me off more than Michael Moore proclaiming to the world that his new movie is not meant to be political despite choosing to have its premiere in Washington DC - the political heart of the US. I am this close to skolling an entire bottle of cough suppressant in one go and saying to my throat "ha! try to cough now bitch!"

Oh, remember that judge who tried to sue a Korean couple in the US for fifty-something million dollars because of an (alleged) missing pair of pants at the dry cleaners? If not, read an earlier entry, it's somewhere there. Well he lost, AND he has to pay the defendants' trial fees, which might also include all their legal fees too. There IS a god!!! http://www.reuters.com/article/domesticNews/idUSN2528824020070625

In another little rant, I've been seeing more and more ads for the Live Earth concerts around the world that's coming up soon. I have but one simple question: Why? Seriously...why? What's the goal? Is it to "engage people on a mass scale to combat our climate crisis" as the official description of the event states? Ok, that's a fair enough statement, but how in this increasingly brown world are these freaking concerts going to do that?! The words "raising awareness man" in hippy voices have been heard around the wire, but c'mon. Raising awareness?! We already know about freaking global warming. What's the point of shoving it further down our throats through the power of sex, drugs and rock and/or roll? Gimme a break. Sure, ok they're going to showcase some of the most technologically advanced equipment that is easy on the environment during the shows. But unless I run mega concerts for a living, that's about as useful as a condom in a lesbian relationship. I fail to see any practical benefit from this sham. As far as I'm concerned, any credibility to this event went down the drain when they announced that each ticket was to cost $99. Fair enough, expenses need to be paid but that doesn't justify the price...unless of course, a profit is to be made. Hmmmm. And please don't tell me that all the artists are in it because they 'care about the world'. If by "world" you mean "public relations" then yes that seems more plausible. I wonder how many of those artists involved whore themselves off to ads for SUVs. And how many of them would be flying around in private jets? Hmmm. I'm not as pissed off as this rant may make me seem. I'm just a little bewildered as to how such a thing has gained so much popularity. The premise behind the event is good. We do need to get off our arses and do something collectively as a whole about it, at the very least in case global warming is happening. (Remember now, it probably is true but no one can be 100% sure yet) But please, give me practical solutions, not hypocritical preaching.

Colds, cousins and crappy computers

When you buy something for over three grand, you expect it to work completely fine. Actually, no let me rephrase that. When you buy something for over three grand you hope that it works completely fine but you expect it to have something wrong with it. Such was the case unfornately for my new computer which came last week. Worked like a dream until it died all of a sudden. Long story short, the warranty guy that came over to have a look at it suggested that since it's such a new and uber computer, I should take it back to the place I bought it from, even though it's in NSW. So as I speak the computer is somewhere between Melbourne and Shitown (Sydney). Oh well, thems the way things go unfortunately. I don't blame the place I got it from. Them screwing up the computer doesn't explain why they have a reputable name amongst the geeky internet forum fraternity. I put this one down to simply "stupid F-ing computers $@#!!!!". The guys in NSW have actually been pretty helpful so far about it all and might even give me a free game for all the troubles caused. Either way, I guess that'll learn me for researching stuff too much. That's what you get for spending ages finding a place with a good name and relatively cheaper prices. So I shall be without a computer for at least a week. Such is the withdrawal I'm having from it already that I'm at work right now using the computers here despite the fact I could've left about 15 minutes ago.

Also had a nasty cold. It's pretty much over now but the dry raspy cough lingers on. Even downing an entire bottle of Benadryl hasn't gotten rid of it. I've narrowed down the list of possible people who passed it on to me to about three people - three of my patients specifically. I'm still seeing two of those three so they will get extra punishment from my thumbs and elbows.

The other interesting note to current life was the visiting of my cousin Lina. Lovely girl who I haven't seen for about six years. She was down from the Australian state of New Zealand with her fiance. 'Twas good to catch up with her. Coupled with my other lovely cousin Caroline who came back for a visit a month ago, it's been a period of reunions lately. I knew they'd all come crawling to Australia. Malaysia is too humid and New Zealand is overrun with Lord of the Rings nuts...they'll all end up living in Australia...just you wait. I just need to make sure that I implant an image in their heads of Sydney being the country's anus and Melbourne being the nation's true capital before they decide to live here :P

So that's life at the moment. I'm a nerdy leper without a computer that's being visited by his cousins.

I actually came on to write about something on my mind but now I forget. Screw it. Next time.

I'm 'Strayan!

After about 18 years of leeching off this country, sucking it dry and milking it for all it's worth, I can now finally do it without the scorn of xenophobic monkeys frowning at my yellow-ness. For as of Friday night I am (at long freaking last) an Australian citizen. Why it's taken this long is a looooooong story, the likes of which a trilogy can be made out of it. And for the purposes of sanity, I can't be arsed describing it. Just be glad in the knowledge that there is now no reason whatsoever to question my loyalties and suspect me as some sort of Chinese spy, waiting for the order from my superiors back in my ancestral land of China to commence Operation One Earth, One China.

The citizenship ceremony is pretty black and white. Speeches by the Mayor, various parliamentary figures subliminally telling us to "Vote Labor/Liberal", and a native Aboriginal who ended up being absent. Then, in separate groups we'd go up and recite the pledge, before receiving a certificate, a badge and a little plant...I got a shitty plant. Not happy Australia! The night is then capped off with the anthem followed by a chowfest of sandwiches and pies in the foyer. All in all, whilst an experience for sure, ten hours of work beforehand takes its toll. I also felt sorry for the emcee that had to call out all of our predominantely Chinese/Indian names. Certainly a candidate for the 'toughest job ever'.

In other sadder news, I'm sure everyone's heard about that train crash last week. Two little girls and their mother that died in the crash (the one in the news) came from my church/parish/primary school. I was at church tonight and was listening to the priest talk about it, and how the poor unfortunate father was now left to pick up the pieces. It was a subtly surreal service actually. The priest talked about how the school was coping, and how the kids were told of it. Imagine being the teacher telling the class that one of their classmates died. In the words of the priest, "don't ever let anyone tell you that teachers don't earn their pay." Such a sad thing. By the sounds of it though, everyone is banding together and lending support to one another, not just within the broken school community either. Apparently offers of help for the parish have come from the police, the CFA, local churches in the area (that aren't necessarily Catholic) and the council. At least there's something to smile about out of all this.

Why the movie Antz is the biggest load of horse baloney

So I was about to switch off the lights to go to sleep two nights ago, when I glanced over to the heating vent next to the bedside table. And what did I see? A FREAKING COLONY OF ANTS LAYING EGGS IN MY BEDROOM! Yeah that's right...freaked me out completely. I felt like I was in some horror movie for a second. They were laying the eggs on the piece of board I have placed over part of the heating vent (to prevent the bedside table which partly lies over it from overheating). The heated piece of board must've provided a perfect ground for breeding...either that or they seriously got lost on the way to their home underground. Actually, just having images of it in my head right now is freaking me out....uhhhhh. *shiver* Despite their numbers though, they were no match for the superhero duo that is the Ting brothers. Julius, armed with his atomic insect spray, and me, wielding my nuclear-powered vacuum cleaner showed those ants the meaning of "get the f*#k out of our house!". It did cost me a good night's sleep unfortunately. After clearing the ants, which thankfully were mainly localised to the piece of board rather than being stuck in the carpet, I surfaced sprayed the crap out of the vent surface and the window sill where they came out of... at least it looked like they came from the window sill. They better have 'coz if they came from within our heating ducts we're screwed! Anyway, as a result of the bedroom's impromptu fumigation, I had to put up with sleeping on the couch.

So yeah, fun times.

It's been an eventful last few weeks. People have been busy, people have been drunk, and people have been hurt. I hope you two are fine. As for me, I would fit under the first category. Four days worth of an educational seminar fries the brain more than what you'd initially think. And here I was thinking that it'd be a cruisy Thurs-Sunday. At least I'm now the wiser physio and I'll be able to go back to work next week and tell my patients to forget everything I told them. That, my friends, is a sign of professional progress. To the physios that read this, I was at the Part A McKenzie course. I can certainly tell you that, no it isn't just all extensions :P

Ice Hockey = Legal fighting = FUN!

Hooray for YouTube! Why? Because of it, I found one of the most exciting moments in sports history that I've ever seen.

The best sport that Australia never really takes part in (due to the inherent lack of water, let alone ice!) is ice hockey. Nonetheless, if you're lucky to have cable tv, it's one of the best games to ever watch because it's probably the fastest-paced sport that exists, and fights are legal! The following is a brawl that happened ten years ago. Things you need to know before you watch it:

- Fights are, contrary to belief, rare.
- If a fight breaks out it's 99% of the time just a one-on-one fight. And most of the time, the fights are clumsy ie. the two people wrestle and grapple each other to the ground/ice as opposed to full-on face punches... After all, taking a close-fisted swipe to the head of another guy wearing a helmet...that'd hurt you more than him!
- Goalies almost NEVER fight.
- The Detroit Red Wings (the guys in the white and red uniform, and the team which I go for) and the Colorado Avalache built a HUGE rivalry over the late 90s.
- One year before this brawl, a Detroit player was taken down with a cheap shot by a Colorado player. It caused a broken jaw and orbital bone, and forced the Detroit player out for about a year. The cheap Colorado player in question (Lemieux) is the one that gets blindsided in the video by a different Detroit player (McCarty). If you watch all the replays you'll realise that McCarty uses the first fight that breaks out as a cheap excuse to go after his man Lemieux. Oh how revenge is sweet, especially when it's one year overdue!

Anyways, the video is after this post. The quality is a bit dodgy but it'll do.

The best bit is when the Colorado goalie skates out to rescue Lemieux but he himself is intercepted at full-speed by another Detroit player...watch the replay of it. The game itself turned out to be the definition of irony. The three main Detroit players fighting (with the exception of the goalie) were McCarty, Shanahan and Larionov....

The game went into overtime and was eventually won by Detroit. The scorer? McCarty. The assists to the goal? Shanahan and Larionov

New Car!

Presenting the newest member of the clan:


Went and picked her up on Saturday. I haven't thought of a name for her yet. The SSA licence plate makes it hard...what name can you make out of SSA? Anywho, the car runs well. It has the feel of a new car even though it's 53,000kms old. So all in all, here sits one pleased owner. Now I just have to hope it doesn't follow the suit of most other Fords I know and break down without warning. Today being the usual day off, I took the liberty to retrieve the contents of my old written-off car, namely my little smiley face thingy I hang off the rear-view mirror. Hopefully that isn't the thing which cursed my old car. I just realised... Out of the four cars we collectively have as a family, three of them are now silver in colour. And the other is just plain white. How boring are we?!

The Lawyer (and not just a lawyer but a freakin' judge!) from Hell

I'm sorry Bob, Emily, Fi or any other lawyer/law student reading this. But the following is undeniable proof that within your ranks, are the scumiest of scums!

I direct you to:
http://edition.cnn.com/2007/LAW/05/03/missing.pants.ap/

I actually like this version better despite their slight inaccuracy with the figures (the lawsuit is for $65mil not $67mil). It explains what he's sueing for in better detail: http://madconomist.com/the-67-million-pants-washington-d-c-lawyer-sues-dry-cleaners-for-lost-trousers

Just as was described in the second article, it's people like these that cause so many problems in the world. It's "why teachers won't put an arm around a crying child, and doctors order unnecessary tests." We live in a culture of fear - fear that some vaginahead will financially rape us. Seriously, even I get scared at work. The number of warnings and disclaimers I explain to my patients, the number of times I have to ask permission from them to do something...it takes up so much time, before you know it I have only two minutes to actually DO something to them.

Official

Yeh it's officially dead. Got the word yesterday. At least now I can go search for some cars. My cousin has, in the meantime, graciously given me his car to borrow for a few weeks so things aren't being such a nuisance and inconvenience as it initially looked like it was going to be. Granted the car is almost dead. A few kms after driving it from his house the rear view mirror decides to just fall off. Hmmmm.... Right now it's being held up by string attached to the E-tag. Hooray for citylink!

My Baby! My poor Babyyyyyyyy!

Well, the car has been sent from the Mt. Waverley centre to the Altona Centre. And, according to the dude at AAMI, the Altona centre is the automobile equivalent of Dr Nitschke's Euthanasia clinic. All cars that are deemed to be a probable write-off after assessment are sent to Altona for a secondary assessment to ensure that it really is unsalvageable. And statistically speaking, if your car is sent there, 90% of the time they will scrap it.

The official word won't come until at least Monday. Looks like my poor baby will die the slow death like the unfortunate kangaroo that hit it. :(

Vote 1 for Kangaroo Meat

If I tell this story one more time to someone, even I would call myself an attention seeker that's just trying to score empathy votes from as many people as possible. So instead of repeating the same old stuff, let me put it in a different way. Hence I present to you...

Terence's Guide to Losing $2500...Guaranteed!

Step 1: Have multiple claims made to your car insurance company over previous years to ensure skyrocketing prices for your annual premiums.

Step 2: Instead of fork out the $1500 or so premium, take the option (and by option I mean "gamble") to pay a ridiculously high excess fee should an accident ever happen, in order to cut the annual premium in half.

Step 3: Drive along Churchill Park Dve around the late afternoon/early evening time when the sun is going down. Telepathically will a large kangaroo to hop out onto the road right in front of your car from behind a large bush/shrub so that you have no time to brake or swerve. Ensure you are driving at 70km/h to maximise impact and damage to the car. Results are best given when your entire left-front is shot to pieces and your windshield is caved in.

Step 4: Ensure you survive so you can experience your new found loss of financial health. Having an intact windshield to prevent a flying kangaroo from entering the car and decapitating your head is recommended.

Step 5: After towage is complete, liaise with insurance company to determine that you have three excesses to pay. 1) The $500 standard excess, 2) the $400 "you're under 25 years old so you must be a shit driver" excess, and 3) the aforementioned "gamble" excess fee of $1550. Get a calculator and total the fee to which it will be $2450.

Step 6: Curse that f&#king kangaroo.

Looks like I'll be putting off that computer for a bit. And my monthly paycheck for this April will now be known as the "insurance paycheck". Oh well, money aside, I'm still alive which is all that matters as they say. I went through that whole shock phase of sitting in your car for a good 60 seconds trying to fathom what the F*$K just happened, and I'm over the "thank God I'm still alive" phase. Now I'm just into the pissed off "bloody hell this is going to cost me an arm and a leg, why do I have such shit luck with cars?! *whinge whinge whinge*" stage

A couple of thoughts:
- Gotta love the hippie-looking couple that checked on the kangaroo before me. Way to prioritise guys! And no I didn't kill a tree too.
- Any second later and the kangaroo would've directly hit the side of my car. With me going at 60-70km/h......
- Had I been going at the speed limit (as opposed to being going 10 under due to traffic) I would've been long ahead before the kangaroo hopped onto the road to hit me. And they say speed is supposed to bad...
- Fark, how scary was that?!
- Watching a dying kangaroo die a slow and painful death is not fun :(

I'll find out tomorrow whether or not the car is a write off. I hope not. One, because I love my car! and two, despite being two and a half grand out of pocket no matter what happens now, the new car that I can buy with the money left over will be shite...at least not as good as the '96 Lancer I had.

Wait and see... Either way, here comes at least two weeks of juggling cars with the rest of the family.

Madness?! This...is.....SPARTAAAAA!!! *front kick some dude into bottomless pit*

Hooray for the power of coincidence in giving me - the monitor-less one - a free computer monitor from one of Dad's clients who wanted to throw it away despite it not ever being used!

One of the most frustrating things one can endure is to feel tired and sluggish throughout the entire day, but when it comes to bedtime, the body refuses to shut down. Argh! And it doesn't help that I have to be up in less than six hours. Oh well, instead of lie there I figured I'd get up, have a drink (juice, not alcohol...I'm not an alco) and write some sort of crap in this thing.

The week so far has been pretty boring. Nothing special... and quiet at work. Went and saw 300 the other day. Fantastic movie but only if you're of the ike that lusts for copious amounts of Hollywood blood, and hence don't mind senseless violence. As one reviewer wrote which I randomly read at work the other day "300 is rated R for 'RAAAAAR!!'" If you're looking for plot, don't expect much. The story which most of you would know is based on an actual historical battle goes something like this: (and if you haven't seen the movie and don't want it to be spoilt, believe me, there's not much in the plot that can be given away)

- Persians threaten Sparta (and the rest of Greece)
- Spartan king is pissed off
- 300 uber Spartan warriors led by the king take the Persian army to Paintown
- Blood is generously spilt throughout the movie

I'm gonna have to buy the DVD and tally up the number of confirmed kills in the movie just as Julius and I did for the Rambo trilogy. I suspect this movie will hold the new record. This is the ultimate movie that doesn't require thinking. Simple story with plenty of 'don't ask questions, just kill something' action, and perhaps one of the coolest quotes in cinema lately. Can't wait for the DVD so I can repeatedly watch the battle scenes over and over again...I won't have to fast forward much. :)

Time for bed, take two.

Dead computer

Woo! My computer has officially died. Well, the screen has at least. The computer itself is currently the electronical equivalent of an old lady who has had thirteen surgeries done, and is now in intensive care hooked up to 15 drips and drains and requiring three nurses alone to maintain what little life is left. I'm in the process of finding a new computer and I've thought to myself, you know what? I've suffered on Windows 98 for the past 6-7 years...I've had to put up with not watching half the stuff that's available on the net. I'm gonna go get myself a beast of a computer. Granted my ever-fluctuating bank account is not pleased (just paid the Government back the bloody GST the other day...not happy). So in my computerlessness I've had to leech off my dad's computer which he doesn't use for his work about 18 minutes out of a 24 hour day. Or, of course, I get to use the one at work, which is pretty shoddy.

I have no idea where I'm going with this one.

Oh, some of you may know that I have NO intention of EVER owning a MySpace out of principle. 'But you have a blog you double-standard setting Asian man!', I hear you say? Yes, but you see, whereas the purpose of my blog is to show off my extremely uninteresting life despite having very anti-voyeuristic principles, MySpace is nothing but a glorified way of showing off how many friends you have. The more friends people see that you have, the better looking you are. It's simple physics.

Having said all that though, I have a facebook which I signed up to a while ago out of a need to quench my horrible thirst for something to do but then sorta neglected. But in my recent run of large breaks at work, I've been rummaging around it and you know what? Despite MySpace having the capacity to stick videos and stuff on it, Facebook shits all over it. It's just more fun than a MySpace, especially if you're a photos whore.

Unfortunately though, by having the same friends mechanism that MySpace has, a Facebook practically forces me to rape and pillage those aforementioned principles....Let it be known though, that I don't use it TO SHOW OFF HOW MANY FRIENDS I have...

But go ahead and be my friend :)

And I still refuse to use MySpace >:(

The Sounds of Springvale

SPRINGVALE! Some say it is full of drug addicts, others say vampires come out at night to steal the non-Asian babies. Whatever the stigma surrounding the infamous suburb, events of last night didn't help to extinguish these perceptions to those who were there to witness it. I speak of a night out at a restaurant with my family and brother's girlfriend. 'Twas a good dinner. Decent crab and crownies for only $4!! But the night ended on quite a sour note, and one which goes to show you that drinking yourself to kingdom come at a pub/club/bar is one thing, but doing it at a family restaurant is practically criminal.

They say Asians can't hold their drink (except my brother and myself...although these days I can't drink as much as I used to...I'm getting old). Last night only served to demonstrate this. To cut to the chase, what happened was a direct result of two large Asian families (one Chinese and one Vietnamese I think) and lots of alcohol...I'm talking about plastic bags full of bottles, and drinking scotch out of glasses usually used for wine. One by one, dish by dish, they all got louder and louder. At some point near the end of the night as we were having our dessert, one of the men from (I think the) Viet family started getting touchy with another random guy. I had my back turned so I wasn't too sure about what happened. The Viet family started to leave, the women of the party obviously realising it was time to shut up shop. Unfortunately though, they had to pass the other big drunk Asian family in question. Something was said by a man from this family to the original Viet dude, something like "why did you (something) my son twice?!", we think in relation to something that happened earlier in the night.

From here, things escalated like crazy. A quick shove was met with a retaliatory punch and before long the men of both families were at it or at least trying to hold each other back, right in the centre of the crowded restaurant. There was one thing that absolutely blew my mind away. One man walked straight into the scuffle, his arm wound up, and he unleashed the biggest haymaker I've ever seen in real life on the unsuspecting dude that had his face turned the other way. I don't know what was more astounding - seeing that fist connect with the other guy's face or hearing it crunch against the bone...it was almost like hearing a sound effect from a movie, I kid you not! As a result there was a red and bloodied white tablecloth where it happened.

I've seen a few full-on brawls before, as I'm sure most people have. But what made this one a little scarier was the proximity. Our table was unfortunately backed up to a wall, right between the tables of the two families in question and as the fight broke out literally a metre or two away from us, we had no choice but to stay put instead of flee. Mum and Dad's friends who, by pure coincidence were also there that night had it worse. By even purer coincidence, they were at the table next to us. And by even more purer coincidence, their's was the table that ended up bloodied. But thankfully they managed to scamper away at the last second. As for us, Julius and I shoved Mum and Sam (Julius' gf) behind us like the protective men of the group we are :P (I'm sure Dad would've done the same but he was stuck at the very back hehe). You should've seen me. I was all Jet Li on their arses...well not really. My first instinct was to grap my bottle of beer a) to use as a potential weapon and b) so I could save the rest of the beer left in there...and not necessarily in that order. :P

Eventually it died down and we spilled out into the street. But just as it seemed to be over, one man walks right up to another, wine bottle in hand, and proceeds to bludgeon him over the back of the head with it. Once again, for some reason my family just had to be the one coincidentally right next to it as it happened... seriously, bad positioning and bad timing by our part last night. So proceeded act two of the show, an act that ended with the arrival of the police.

So there you go. Dinner and a show. What was funny about it was the looks of the faces on the staff. I did not see one astounded face at all! It was almost as if this sort of thing occurs on a weekly basis. The chef/cook at the front of the restaurant cutting the duck didn't look up at all. He just happily kept cutting the duck with his cleaver...but then again, he probably realised Meh I have a freakin' butcher's cleaver so if they mess with me they're fucked.

Though I really shouldn't be making humour out of it. It was indeed quite sad. Sad because we aren't talking about two gangs fighting, but rather grown adult men. Sad because it was a family restaurant with families around. Sad because people ended up fleeing the restaurant without paying, although some families went back later to pay which was good of them. Sad because, inbetween trying to hold their respective husbands back, even the women ended up fighting each other, albeit more verbally than with flying fists.

But what was saddest of all, was that both families had children. And I'm talking about babies and kids barely old enough to be at school. Two, maybe three of the kids were bawling their eyes out as the fight happened in the restaurant. One boy was stuck in the corner by himself, with no one attending to him for a minute. Of all the crimes you could commit to your children or grandchildren... engaging in a bloody, drunken, and public fight in front of their eyes........

Needles are for pussies. Blades are for men.

So I have this large red bump on my shin. It kinda started about two days ago and I thought it was just one of those really bad pimples that got lost and took a wrong turn to end up near my ankles rather than on my face. Two days later and the thing has blown up like buggery. It's red and raised and bloody sore to touch. This afternoon it felt like it was throbbing when I was on my feet. That was the cue for me to suck in my stoic manlihood and to commit the one mortal sin for any man who wants to keep his ego - visit the doctor for something other than a heart attack, a fracture or to just get an unnecessary doctor's certificate to validate your sickie.

All you really need to know about the consultation is that it involved a sharp blade, and me trying desperately hard to keep still as I wince and scream something along the lines of "f*#kity f#@kin f#*k!!!" - that's without making an audible sound though. I think what made it worse was the fact that I saw the blade beforehand, so as I had my eyes closed I could still conjure up an image of this sharp little metal thing digging into the soft, bleeding skin all in vivid slow-motion. Anywho, it turns out that it's an infection, most likely from an insect bite of some sort which would explain the tiny little white dot in the centre of the area. I had the choice of antibiotics or antibiotics plus getting rid of whatever is in that raised bump. Injections and needles don't scare me so I figured this wouldn't be so bad. Well... let me give you a piece of advice. If a part of your skin is raised, red, warm and most importantly, painful to touch with even just a fingertip, then chances are a blade that the doctor not only inserts through your skin but also slides across it, will have you in more pain than listening to a hippy singing an opera with lyrics that repeat the words 'hug me a tree' eleven times over. And if you thought that was fun, having the doctor squeeze the pus out of it after making the little incision will bring you so close to elbowing her in the face, only to be stopped by the thought that hitting her will a) quite possibly cut your leg even more accidentally and b) leave you open to being sued. Oh, and did I mention that this was without a local anaesthetic?

That's right everyone, I AM ALL THAT IS MAN!

Silly people

The following people need multiple slaps to the face and a good re-thinking of their lives:

- Pre-teens and barely-teens wearing mini skirts and tops so small they are practically walking, talking porno films, when it's ridiculously cold outside and they're waiting in a long cue to get into a pub or club. Then they ask the closest male friend if they can borrow their jacket or coat. Ha! If they asked me for mine I'd burn it with a lighter right in front of them just to see their priceless faces.
- Most people living in Frankston.
- Fully sick bros that wind down their windows and pump the bass as they cruise down Chaps, when their bass is really, really horrible. If you're gonna do it, at least get a subwoofer you idiots.
- That lady that sued some person because she tripped over their stairs whilst trespassing through their property. Maybe I should sue her for breathing in air and causing more carbon dioxide which contributes to global warming, and hence makes me anxious that the apocalypse is drawing nearer, thus giving me eczema.
- All judges of performing arts reality shows. ie. Australian Idol, So You Can Dance, Australia's Got Talent etc.
- Everyone who participates in those shows.
- The people behind all those penis erection/impotence/premature ejaculation problem ads. Someone should rip their testicles off and go, "look who has a problem now ma boy!?"
- The lady that complained about having to wait because I was only five minutes behind schedule at the clinic. Here's a tip love: NEVER piss off a physiotherapist who is about to give you pain.
- The people behind making those Bratz dolls. Why don't you just make colouring books for 2nd grader girls that make a nice "IT'S OK TO BE A SLUT WHORE" message when you colour it in? It'll save you the plastic and the material for the clothing.

Please Mr. Employer, I want some more

Woo! First ever career paycheck came the other day. Despite only doing part-time hours at the moment it's still quite a chunky piece of dosh - more than I'm ever used to. No doubt the dark tax overlord from the evil ATO empire will take a huge chunk out of it to fuel the war machines of his superior (Johnny boy Howard), and unfortunately fund the inevitable compensations the government will have to pay to whining hippies at the G20 that were physically scarred from having cops standing within a ten metre radius from them. Actually, I really should work out exactly how this tax thing works. For all I care GST could stand for Good Sex Therapy and Wine Tax could be calculated via breathalyzers - the drunker you get the more you pay. My simple understanding of tax is still at the old Sim City computer game stage. You lower taxes and people come into the city. You raise them to some ungodly figure and the people will riot the local streets leaving the one lone fire truck to cover the entire city that is now on fire. Also, a hurricane tends to mysteriously happen when taxes are up. Oh well, back in reality, all will be good so long as I get to keep most of my (hard-earned?) cash.

And speaking of computer games, I have temporarily returned to my former state - a geeky year 8 and 9 kid sitting in front of a playstation for hours on end, playing a Final Fantasy game. Back then I used to stay up til about 2am playing the damn thing. Last Tuesday night I stayed up to 3am playing Final Fantasy XII...and I had to work the next day! Needless to say the immature little boy inside me has been well-nourished, and will be until this game is done. Apparently this one is supposed to take 70 hours to finish...

Hmmm, no wonder I don't have a girlfriend.

And finally, one piece of advice. If you're out for a jog and a pedestrian is coming your way on the footpath, don't give in to the game of chicken. Conversely if you see a runner coming towards you, do the right thing and step aside for him/her. I say this because during one of my rare runs today, I tweaked my ankle a little after rolling it as I stepped off the paved path and onto a small divot in the grass. If you were the walker and you were the one that stepped into it, it wouldn't have been so bad. The pedestrian was some pre-pubescent 15 year old girl talking on the phone, most probably telling her best friend Jane how she lost her virginity last night to her distant 4th cousin. Bah, I'm just being a whining little bitch. My ankle's good.

Remember now, 24 owns every other TV show, and House is not far off, unlike Grey's Anatomy aka. The O.C. in a hospital aka. That show where all they do is have sex with each other in the dark pharmaceuticals room, which is so unlike real life because if you tried it you'd accidentally knock over a bottle of pills and smash the glass which would then cut your feet open, which would then bleed profusely causing the female to be put off having sex with you because she is scared you have HIV and remember, she's a doctor so she knows not to mess with that shit, so she goes and gets some tegaderm to patch you up then you go to try it again, only this time you use the physiotherapists' room because you know all the physios are downstairs having a coffee break for the ninth time that morning so the chances of you getting caught are slim, but just as you're about to score the episode is up and you'll have to wait 'til next week.

Graduate (Private Practice) Physiotherapy 101

- Confidence is everything and clinical problem-solving and skills, whilst obviously very important, are overrated. Had one of the partners come in today so I could sit in with him and see how he does things. All part of the learning experience I guess, and boy did I learn stuff off him today! I learnt more in two hours with him than all of uni. Come across confident, and the patient will be confident.
- If confidence is everything, trust is...well, everything too I guess. Objective number one when seeing a new patient - build the trust and the rapport, and don't come across as either a) a bumbling fool or b) a weird-arse psycho that is only doing physio so he can order women to take off their tops, and everything else will fall into place. Once again, a lesson learnt off the boss. Although upon hearing that he's coming to see patients with me, the other physios were worried that I'd be "corrupted at too early a stage in my career" by his...err...unorthodox ways. But I'm glad I saw him in action today, which leads me to the next point...
- Letting your boss see patients with you is neither clever nor smart when it comes to boosting your confidence, and keeping your job secure. You feel stupid when he asks you questions that you don't know the answer to. As a result, you feel like you will be fired tomorrow.
- Sometimes a patient will be a right old cockhead. They will call up the next day and blame you for giving them a new injury despite the fact that what you did was quite harmless and despite prior warnings to expect post-treatment soreness. They will cause a fuss that forces other physios to see her as well, and ultimately your boss. In times like these, it is often therapeutic to your own confidence if you 'debrief' with other members of staff who have come in contact with this patient. Patients like these will make you feel inferior and, as is the case here when the boss is involved, will make you feel like the boss has a lower respect of your abilities, no matter how much he says otherwise. It is therefore imperative that you assure yourself that you did nothing wrong (so long as you didn't!) and that you pretend the patient is a giant inflatable douche. Try not to laugh when you imagine this the next time you see the patient.
- Patients like the one mentioned above usually come from Frankston
- Chiropractors are usually thought of unfavourably by many patients that see you. Nine manipulations of your disc bulge without any exercise prescription or self-management tips usually does more harm than good. Also, the chiropractic practice of ordering x-rays upon x-rays for everything to do with the spine seems to be pissing off the radiographer fraternity.
- Patients may see you one morning, only get minimal improvement, then see the chiropractor the next day and get complete pain recovery, and subsequently cancel your appointment. In times likes these, feel happy that your patient is better especially if your patient is really nice. However, be prepared to see her again especially if SHE WAS GIVEN A FREAKIN' BACK MANIPULATION DESPITE HAVING A LIKELY ACUTE DISC BULGE. I mean, faaaark, some chiros are good, but ones that do this should be shot dead. It's like hammering your already-fractured forearm with a mallet. Your pain might disappear for a short-time, but in the long-term you've made it worse!!! But then again, I'm sure they know this, because it means they'll keep coming back again and again which translates into $$$.
- Be good to your admin staff. They know more than you.
- Be sure to exit the building quickly when you set the alarm at closing time. Having the alarm go off will freak you out. Ensure that you put the blame squarely on the receptionist in times like these.

The Apple Tree

I've come across this little analogy about three or four times now:

Girls are like apples on trees.
The best ones are at the top.
The boys dont want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt.
Instead, they get the rotten apples from the ground that arent as good, but easy.
So the apples up top think something is wrong with them when in reality they're amazing.
They just have to wait for the right boy to come along, the one who's brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

Boys that are too scared to climb to the top of the tree!? Ha! That's as far-fetched as the straight man denying a request to sleep with Maria Sharapova or the girl that knows the offside rule in soccer. So let me tell you boys and girls how it should really go:

Girls are like apples on trees.
The best ones look like they are at the top.
The boys see these good-looking apples on the top, and decide to reach for it.
Upon reaching the top apples they take a bite, but deep inside the apples are disgusting and they make the boy feel sick.
So the apples up top which were initially so amazing, actually leave a bad-taste (ie. are self-obsessed, inconsiderate, thoughtless, insensitive she-devils who like to tinker with the boy's emotions until she's drained him completely before leaving him out to dry).
Filled with hurt and sadness, the boy ends up falling off the ladder. And since he went all the way to the top, he falls down so hard that the resulting violent forces hitting his chest lacerate the skin, split the underlying subcutaneous tissue, tear through the muscle underneath, crack through his rock-hard sternum and ribs.......and breaks his heart.

Meanwhile the so-called rotten apples on the ground aren't actually rotten. They've just been so ripe for so long. It's just that the boys were too busy trying to get the ones from the top.

Then there are the apples from the market......