Italy 1-0 Australia

We was robbed, robbed I tell you. If that was a penalty then I'm the next Chief Justice of the High Court.

Something Else

Well, I have finally found a way to use my short attention span for good rather than evil.

In preparation for a job interview next week I decided that I should read a text on policy analysis, so as to avoid looking like an arse on the subject like I did in my last interview. However the book in question is written in such a frustrating manner (ie. by academics) that rather than continue reading it I have looked for anything else that I could occupy myself with. So in avoiding doing one piece of work I have in fact completed the draft of a job application, filled in a form from the Electoral Commission as to why I didn't vote, mowed the lawn, split some wood and lit the fire, and its still only lunch time (though as I now find myself writing this I may well have run out of productive distractions).

I think I will keep a hold of this book and resolve to read a chapter each morning. Who knows what I will get done in avoiding that resolution.

Something Something Something

It has been awhile since anything new appeared on this page, other than comments asking why nothing new has appeared on this page. In light of this, here follows a description of the events affecting and involving me as they unfolded on today's Queen's Birthday Holiday.

Firstly, I woke up. Quite a hook hey? They always say that the first line in a story is the most important, it is the one that has to grab and hold the readers attention, and I think I am onto a winner. Anyway, as I was saying, firstly I woke up, but a quick reconnaissance above the doona revealed that it was rather cold, so I decided to go back to sleep again. How about that, the story has only just started and already there is a twist. I hope it didn't throw you too much.

Anyway, after a few repeats of the above I managed to jump out of bed while my mind was looking the other way and was in the shower before it could drag me back into bed. Today I actually had some physical exercise planned, so there was a good chance that my mind and body would be disagreeing again in the near future.

Soon afterwards I found myself eating some food. I know, food, in the morning. Apparently some people do that, it even has a name - "breakfast". Amazing what you can learn. The reason I was doing this was related to the aforementioned physical exercise. I was hoping that if I had some food in my stomach there was a greater chance of me not breaking down halfway through. You will note that I have yet to identify what kind of physical exercise I was planning on undertaking. This is because I am employing yet another literary device - suspense. Unfortunately, to pull off suspense you need something that is in some way interesting or intriguing. As I have neither I might as well tell you that I was going to go for a bike ride with Michael and John.

Thus I ventured downstairs to see if the tyres of my aging bike were still inflated, having pumped them up the night before. I was not entirely surprised to discover that the back tyre had gone flat, perhaps in an attempt by my decrepit bike to avoid being dragged out of its cosy storage room and put to work. Many of my leg muscles would soon have a similar complaint.

Regardless, I tossed (or rather, in a uncoordinated fashion I heaved) my bike into the back of the car. As I settled into the drivers seat I hoped that I wouldn't have to brake suddenly lest one of my handlebar extensions imbed itself in the back of my head, but luckily I was distracted from this train of thought by Charlie attempting to make himself at home in my lap. After placing him on the driveway I set off for the Regatta Grounds, pausing only briefly to once again remove Charlie from the car.

I pulled up to the Regatta Grounds to find Michael strutting around (in a manner of speaking) in his borrowed helmet, being somewhat of a stranger to the bicycle as a result of a unfortunate childhood incident involving himself and an out-of-control bike, followed soon after by an incident involving himself and the ground, or more specifically a forcible and bloody meeting of the two.

While Michael remembered how to ride a bike, and John watched on (I can only assume in amusement) I set about making my own bike roadworthy, in the loosest possible sense of the word. After successfully deluding myself into thinking that the rear tyre would stay inflated for the duration, and studiously not thinking about the fact that the brakes only work sporadically, we set off along the bike track towards Glenorchy.

The ride itself passed almost uneventfully, and would in fact make for even less interesting reading than the above text. Not at all surprisingly my rear tyre did in fact go flat, though luckily it did it when we were almost back at the car park, having ridden to Glenorchy and back. I would be able to say that it was a nice long ride with more satisfaction if John hadn't ridden from South Hobart to Leslie Vale via Ferntree and then home again by way of Taroona the day before.

Either way, it was enough exercise for one day and we sensibly retired to a pub for a well-earned Guiness and some pub grub for lunch. Following this John departed and Michael and I, driven by the need for good coffee and cake to round off the day, set out for Jackman & McRoss in Battery Point. Unfortunately they was closed so we settled for Mummy's across the road, which itself does a thoroughly respectable coffee and cake.

Thus drew to a close a satisfactory day. Well not really, it was still only mid-afternoon but this being a Tassie winter dusk wasn't all that far away, so I headed for home to sit in front of the fire and, as it turns out, write this in the hope that it will make people stop asking me why I don't update my blog more often.

I make no apologies if you find the above text in anyway unsatisfying or uninteresting - there is half an hour until Mythbusters starts on the television, and this seemed as good a way as any to pass the time. As for any errors that this lengthy post may contain - yes I may have once worked as a proofreader, but I didn’t really want to, wasn’t that fantastic at it and only did it because people were willing to pay me well to do it.