August 2007 Archives

This one has almost endless possiblilities for both you and the sibling. To set up this one, simply follow a few simple steps.

Initially, having a good relationship with the younger said sibling it handy, as they are more likely to do whatever you ask. Then you just need the scam. Simply put, call over the younger sibling with a look of concern on your face. Ask them if their forehead is sore, because it looks like they have been bitten by some kind of insect. If all goes well, they will actually come right up close to you, and even lift their fringe back for you to look at this 'bite'.

As soon as their hair is raised, grab the head of the younger sibling, and begin drawing with the coloured texter that you have surepticiously hidden in your other hand. As for what you draw it is totally up to you and your imagination. May I suggest using a few different colours - you know, to really let your creative juices flow.

Sure, I know you all think I'm bad for doing this right now, but I assure you, give it a few tries and you will love it. Really.

It was four weeks on Monday and one month today.

Each and every day still brings thoughts, memories and smiles of you, and many of those days still bring the occasional tear, although now I guess it isn't every single day anymore.

Its funny though, because I keep thinking that is you walking past me on the street, or into the store. I didn't realise how many little filo's there are around me until you passed away, and every little filo I see reminds me of you.

It has been a tough couple month, really tough. Most days I didn't feel like getting out of bed, but lately I figured out something that brought a little spark back to my life. I was learning to help others, something you already knew well. And helping others helped me.

It was four weeks on Monday and one month today, and today is another stepping stone on my path to valediction.

There is a battle raging in the USA, and it is being waged in the churches, on the streets and in the pants of every Christian teenage male. No sex. Keeping the trouser snake in its cage. Cutting out the monkey business. No dancing the funky chicken and definitely no riding the pony. Oh, and did I mention no sex before marriage or your eyes will fall out of your skull, and your body will be slowly eaten by worms. It's in the bible. Almost... and well, now we have road signs.

Churches have been 'beating the sex drum' (so to speak) for quite some time now, and from memory this stems back years ago, back to the times of the Romans when Christians began to associate 'piety' with 'sexual abstinence' after the Romans began circulating rumours accusing Christians engaging in secret sex rituals during meetings to give the fledgling faith a bad name. English Christian warriors during the 1700's were banging on against the evils of contraception, and today we have the abstinence movement.

The abstinence movement is based in the U.S., and has spread throughout the Christian church. Now, churches preach the dangers of sex outside of marriage and through selling conformity as rebellion, aim to convince teenagers everywhere that it is cool to keep their trouser snake in its natural environment - 'the underpant'.

Which brings us to these hideous road signs and billboards appearing in the USA. Chucky, (lets call him chucky) is announcing to the entire world that he wants to become an engineer, and that sex is going to slowly suck away his brain power faster than milk through a straw. So naturally for Chucky, the choice is obvious, he will choose calculators over carnal gymnastics. Good for you Chucky, good for you. For someone doing an Arts degree, the choice might have been different.

Cut forward four years and Chucky has finally achieved his dream and became an engineer, but due to unforseen economic circumstances he was laid off in a cost cutting company departmental merger. Due to an oversupply of single male Christian engineers, he was unable to get another job and now works serving fries at Hungry Jacks.

Realistically, these billboards might be doing those studious boys (and girls) a huge favour later in life. Those billboards are not so much about swearing off sex as they are about being able to play effective catch up later on in life. I mean, because telling the attractive ladies at the bar that you happen to be an 'engineer' is much more likely to get you laid than telling them that you are 29 and still working at hungry jacks. Or an accountant for that matter.

To illustrate my point, I made a little photoshopped billboard for your pleasure. Or not pleasure as the case may be if you happen to be an accountant.

For everyone wandering what they need to fill the dreary hours between around 8:30 - 11:30 pm on a Saturday evening, well have I got the answer for you. Apparently we have had to open the courtyard due to demand, so make sure you get there early!

I'm not sure if I will actually be able to play, my shoulder is causing me some issues and so my whole left arm doesn't work the way it is supposed to. If I do play, it will just be one handed I suppose.

I must apologise, as I was unable to track down that picture of me naked in a creek wearing nothing but my yellow gumboots and a cowboy hat, but there was a glaring gap in my baby photo album where that pic once stood on proud display. Shame. That pic could have earned me thousands of dollars in playgirl or something like that.

So hereby is 'fun place to take off your pants' part two... or rather 'fun places to pass out naked like noah on your favourite lambskin rug next to a milo tin'. My old man wrinkly naked backside, out there for all to see, absorbing the warm rays of the sunshine.





Oh, I miss that lambskin wool blanket, I remember that it was still around the house up until a few years ago. Those were the days. In fact, lying naked in the sun on a lambswool blanket doesn't sound like a bad way to spend a couple of hours, or a couple of weeks for that matter.

Don't act like you don't love it.

My little five year old sister is currently sitting in my brothers room. He has his music on rather loud, and he is apparently helping her with her homework. I can hear you all now, saying "Oh, isn't that just so sweet... your brother is such a good hearted manchild."

I think at this point I should probably point out that it was the final training session for the football team my brother and I play in... and because we secured promotion two weeks ago, and happened to win the division competition last weekend with an uncatchable lead, well lets just say that we spent more time drinking beer, eating pizza and drinking beer than we did actually 'training' ahead of our final game this season.

So let me break this down for all of you loyal readers right now.

My younger brother, who happens to be a bit drunk, is helping my five year old sister with her homework learning about the seasons, and I am not sure just how great her answers are going to turn out....

Question : I am the hottest season of the year. I am....?
Answer : Um... one where you eat ice cream and perv on chicks and stuff at the beach... YAY!!!

Question : What season is it when the leaves fall off the trees?
Answer : The one where da stoopid trees drink to much and fall off.... WOO!!!

Question : I am the season that brings snow and cold weather...
Answer : Turn da heater on fo shizzle....aight!!!

Question : I am the season where flowers bloom, and leaves grow again...?
Answer : Wheres my beer? Stop stealing you litt..... *snore*

Yeah, I think Gabby's teacher may have to keep her in at lunch tomorrow, to go over a few answers, correct a few misconceptions, and potentially call DOCS just in case our family allowed their five year old daughter to do homework while she was drunk...

I have had too much experience with blood over the past few weeks... I got my chin split open at a soccer game, and had to go to hospital to get the stupid little gash glued back up. Then the following Saturday another tragedy.

As many of you previously read, I recently had a bad experience over the weekend, with two beers, one bread roll, and one sharp knife owned by someone who happens to be in the military. I sliced straight into my finger in a bad way... a real bad way. I jumped around and had blood running all over my hands, and on the floor.

Later that night I had worked out a way of taping up my finger in a way that would keep the deep cut closed, and stop it from continually bleeding... which involved taping my finger forward... which from the back looks like I have unfortunately cut my finger off.

The next day I was telling dad how beer and sharp knives don't mix, and how I had unfortunately sliced my finger really badly... and when I held up my hand to show him, he saw exactly what you can see in the image.

Basically all he saw was me missing my pinky finger.

The look on his face was priceless... he just stared, his mouth fell open and the colour started to drain from his face. He was in shock, absolute horror. When I started to laugh, and turned my hand around he just got a bit angry.

I tried to explain that I had to tape my finger curled up to stop the bleeding, but to be honest, I really don't think that he appreciated my explanation. Old people can be so unforgiving at times. Sheesh.

Let me share with you a little gem of wisdom, as I count you all as friends and I always look out for my friends because thats what friends do and blah blah blah...

Anyway, here is the tip. When you are at the house of a man who happens to be in the Australian Military services -or any military service for that matter- it is without a doubt a very good idea to be very very careful when using his knives so as to not cut through a bread roll and straight to the bone of your little finger.

Also not a good idea to jump and flick your hand in pain, it just puts blood all over your hand... and floor... and kitchen.

And if you have an extremely low tolerance to alcohol, it may help to be EXTRA cautious when mixing drinks and sharp knives. Just so you know.

Lesson learned.

Let me please begin with a disclaimer... reading this post while eating may be harmful to your keyboard. All necessary precautions out of the way, I would like to take a trip down memory lane today, back to the days of old when I didn't have the pressures of the world on my shoulders, back to a time when the gender of girls and boys was only identified by whether or not they were wearing a pink or blue tshirt. Back to when real men had oversized moustaches.

I was but a wee white haired lad in the days before school had taken its toll, and on this particular day it was raining outside. Because surprisingly it rains outside more often than it does inside. Interesting but true. Being the strange and wonderful creation I am, I decided that the rain was the perfect opportunity to try my new game called "Fun places to take off your pants"...

So as all toddlers do, I decided that it would be a good idea to take off my shirt, shorts and underpants, proceed to steal my fathers akubra hat (which for those that dont know is like a cowboy/farmers hat) and then don my bright yellow gumboots, for safety's sake you know? I may have everything from my eyebrows to my shins exposed and flapping in the breeze, but because the top of my head and bottom of my feet were covered I was guaranteed to be safe.

A normal child would have settled for playing around the house, or maybe even under the back verandah in this outfit, but as you know, I am not a normal child. I walked all the way down to the creek that runs through the bottom of our garden, and proceeded to jump and splash in the creek with the frogs, tadpoles and leeches. In the rain. Naked except for gumboots and a hat. I would not recommend jumping anywhere naked when leeches happen to be present. Just a word of caution.

One of the bad things arising from this wonderful situation, is that I believe my parents captured this moment on camera. One of the worst things about this moment is that I am going to try and find this photograph, and then post it on LOS as my very first example of the game "fun places to take off your pants..."

Stay tuned for more pantless stories, and suitable images to match. You know you love it.

I guess it will never be a final goodbye, because I know that I will still talk to you at times when I am on my own, especially when a situation reminds me of you... and also because we shall meet again soon, perhaps sooner than we both realise.

I bought new clothes for your funeral... including a purple shirt and tie... you would have liked them I think - especially being that purple was your favourite colour. Everyone else was wearing dark clothes, which I think might have annoyed you a little, especially considering you wanted them to play 'Hip Hop Hooray' at your funeral... The priest kept calling you "Mariarosa" too, which from memory you hated. You would punch me when I called you Mariarosa. It made me laugh though, because when you finally meet that priest, you totally owe him a crapload of punches and kicks... which I totally expect you to dish out.

Your white coffin looked so small out the front of the church... it made me realise how little you were, and how amazing that such a huge amount of energy, love and excitement could come from something so small. You spent your life punching above your weight, taking on the world in your many random adventures, and i'll miss that. I wrote you a poem, and printed it onto a little piece of paper which I folder into an envelope... I gave it to you at your burial. I hope you liked it.

So a few small updates... Two of your friends went for job interviews today, and both of them were successful and got their respective jobs... I like to think you might of been involved, although I know it's not likely. But at least I know you would have squealed in delight for them both, and celebrated the achievement with hugs and the giving of some (extremely) random gift.

As for me, I went for a walk through the bush today, and walked to that little overhang / cave we hid in that time when it started pouring with rain while we were out walking. I don't know if you remember it, it was on my birthday when you brought me a cornetto and a berry flavoured 'V' as birthday gifts. They weren't big gifts, but they were the first I actually received on my birthday so they meant a lot. It was sad seeing all the places where you had been so recently.

But we can't be sad forever right? So although its been the toughest week of my life to date, I am trying to get on with it, and get on with living how you would have wanted it. Oh, and I have started to take your little project under my wing too, so keep an eye out for it!

Finally, I'm letting you know that I am playing at the Greenwood in a few Saturdays time... I just know you would have loved to have been there, coke can dancing away, or flirting to get free drinks off the 40 year old doctors... either way I know you would have come along considering the very first time Regiment played you were side of stage, not dancing with the other 700 people, but bringing me cups of water so I didn't overheat.

Anyways, I'm sure you are busy up there teaching them all how to do the 'coke can dance', so be good, don't stay up too late and don't forget us down here, okay? Glad we have that sorted. So now I guess it is time to get back to normal life.

Speak soon.

Will

This poem was written for, and dedicated to the memory of one of my closest friends, Marisa who passed away on the 30th July 2007

On tuesday past I heard the news,
a best friend passed away.
And with the spectre as my muse,
I still have things to say.

So now we say goodbye sweet friend,
while today our tears are rife.
We know that we shall meet again,
in another perfect life.

Miss you Risa.

I just wanted you to know that I still cried today. In fact yesterday I cried almost 8 hours straight... from just after 4pm till just after 12am. I was going to write you a poem, or attempt to write some touching letter of praise, but since you passed away I feel like I have lost such a big part of who I am. I never realised this would be so hard - it is simply crippling.

I know that a lot of people are struggling to cope with your tragic loss. Which in its own way is an intricately beautiful and wonderful thing, because it is testament to how amazing you were in your time here with us.

No matter who you were with, or what situation you were in, you had the uncanny ability to make whoever happened to be around you feel perfectly comfortable and at home. Whether you were at dinner, dancing up a storm, or even being forced to endure my mothers show and tell with her pet frogs, you would always fit in perfectly, and allow others to do the same.

Everybody saw you as family. You often called me "Your older brother you never had", often at the same time as hugging me and then tickling my ribs to make me jump, and in case you ever missed it while you were here, I thought of you as my little sister, despite the fact you had beautiful tanned coloured skin, were an italian/filo and I happened to be as white as they come.

The reason people are so shocked and distraught by your passing is the most perfect testament to the massive impact you had on their lives. Marisa, you touched everybody without exception and made them feel loved, unique, and special, and if I can all manage in a lifetime what you managed in a short 25 years, then I will count my life as well spent.

Your smile and hugs meant the world, and you know I would give the world to get you back for just one more day.

"Woomie"

Marisa I really don't know what to write here. But I will guess I will just start by saying how much it hurts that you are gone, and I don't know why.

Knowing that you were in a coma in hospital in another country was hard enough, and shocked me too the core. But hearing that you have passed on, and are never coming home again is harder than I ever imagined. Each time my phone rings or receives a message I half expect it to be something from you... a "Hey Woomie whats up!" or "When are we doing not-coffee again?". But as the realisation sets in I realise that I will never see you again.

I will never walk into Starbucks or Giordano and see your smiling face again. There will be no more impromptu hugging lessons, where you make me hug you repeatedly until I get it right. You knew I wasn't the most affectionate person, yet you forced me to hug time and time again anyway. I will miss that.

I will miss our 'not-coffee' catch ups. I will miss being called into Hornsby to deliver you a boost juice to you while you worked in Giordano, because you couldn't leave the store to walk the 20 metres to the boost bar. I will miss you offering to make me grilled cheese on toast and then burning the cheese... badly. I will miss your calls late at night asking for advice, or needing someone to talk to or cry with to work things through, even if that meant I couldn't function the next day.

I will miss you punching my arm, stomach, leg or whatever was closest. I will also miss the way you reminded me that you were tough and did kendo and fought with swords straight after you hit me each time. I miss the way you always called me the 'older brother you never had', and even though I am sure you said the same thing to other people too, it still meant a lot to me.

I don't ever remember being this upset by losing anyone before. The death of my grandparents, friends and even childhood pets don't even come close to this. You saw through me from our first shifts at After School Care, when we sent the children back and forth, using them as our little 'armies' or 'evil minions' to attack one another. I miss you forcing me to cut or trim your hair, against all my protests.

You didn't just see through me, you saw me better than anyone I have ever known, you knew the real me better than anyone else alive. You were the crazy and wild version of me, and the world is a colder place without you.

Today was hard, I caught myself talking to you on the stairs in the fire escape at work, even though I was all alone. I can't speak or think about you without choking up, and now that you are gone there are a few things I want you to know.

I was so excited about you returning from your trip overseas that I organised to take the day off work when you returned just incase you decided you wanted to meet up for a 'not-coffee' to tell me about your adventures... but you never came home.

When you were sick I messaged a heap of the praying people I knew from church, hoping that you would pull through.

I honestly wish I had made the time to call and leave you a message while you were in hospital sick, even though you wouldn't have been able to respond. The last Friday before your passing I really meant to call, but I guess I let other things get in the way. You know that I'm sorry, and I know that I will regret it for the rest of my life.

I wish I knew the day before you left was the last time we would hug, because I would have put more effort in, I wish I knew your emails from Asia were your last because I would have sent more than five line replies, and I wish that I knew it would be the last time I saw your face on the webcam in that little South East Asian internet cafe, I would have treasured making you laugh, and been a little less distracted.

Anyways, I guess I will see you at your funeral, but I don't know if I will ever be able to really say goodbye. You were my closest friend.

I miss you. You are Loved.
Will.

P.S. Although I really didn't like you always religiously and regularly asking for big brother updates while you were away (I don't think I ever actually passed on news from the house while you were holidaying) I'll fill you in because I guess you passed away a few hours before the announcement was made, and so you weren't around for the finale... Alisha won.