Bear with jar on head meets sad end

Goodnight, sweet prince. Goodnight.

Laugh? I nearly shat.

PNSFW

MS Ride to the Gong

Friends,

As some of you may know, I have a brand new pushbike. Which I love. I also have a Father with MS. Which I well, you know...

The MS Bike ride to the Gong is on again in November and given the above it would almost be churlish not to enter. So I have entered [pause for applause]. But not only that friends, I have created a team. A team for the SRF. A team that will take on all challengers and crush them to dust! A team that will ride courageously to the Gong with nary a bead of sweat polluting it's brow. That team, my friends, is you.

The ride takes place on Nov 2 and can be either a 90km ride from St Peters, or a 56km ride from Heathcote. I'll be attempting the big one, but team members are welcome to do whichever they wish. The route map and profile are available here. There will be live music and stuff happening at the finish, and at rest spots along the way.



There is a team website. Please check it out. If you are interested in joining for the ride or as support crew, you would be most welcome. If you know anyone who would like to get involved that doesn't read the blog, invite them to join. We are looking for sponsors, so if any of you work for companies that you think would be interested, please put it to the relevant honcho. There are facilities on the website to accept donations from ordinary punters, and if you join for the ride, you can also opt for a physical donation book. I've set our fundraising target at $500 to start with, but I reckon we can do much better than that if we try just a little bit.

I will look into getting team shirts made, which may be an opportunity for those old SRF logo entries to get a run. It would also be an opportunity for any potential sponsors to bandy their logo about.

It's a good cause close to my heart, and should be a really fun day (except maybe for the hilly bits), so please get involved if you can. I want to thank Shari for putting her hand up to ride the 90 k's and I hope we get a few more as well. All suggestions are welcome, and I want the MS Society to know that this won't end up like the whole read-a-thon thing back in primary school. Really. I promise.

Acid forces evacuation at Sydney uni

It's a good thing I didn't bother going in to uni on Monday - apparently the pharmacy building is dangerous.

my HK ups and downs

Ah Hong Kong. For such a big town, you’re a bit of a squeeze.

Down in the rumbling belly of the MTR, I’m elbows out, head up, personal space pegged out and firmly on course.

Up on the top deck of the tram, I’m planning how to get me a window seat for a little natural (but pungent) air-con.

Riding the open air escalator that grinds away above the half dozen blocks of my favourite places to eat, drink and shop, up to my SoHo flat, I am sweating as though I’m clambering up through the grimy alleys on foot.

On the 8th floor, in my glossy little flat, I’m freshly showered, either boiling wontons, sprawled out watching food porn, or trying to sleep over the sound of my own noisy thoughts. Or is that just the hum of the air-con?

Down along the fetid streets, I’m plugged into Powderfinger or Missy, dodging the tiniest Little Old Ladies on earth and eyeing off the curious wares – a basin of goose tongues, a basket of dried birds’ nests, and WHAT part of the pig is THAT?

Up on the 35th floor of Central Plaza, I’m a bull in a china shop, and how the HK boys must love that.

On the 13th floor of ING Tower, the HK boys holler right back at me.

Up on the 38th floor, at Nikki and Trent’s, I’m wine-fuzzy, belly laughing and feeling right at home.

On the 11th floor at Happy Foot, I’m a puddle. Because 50 mins of foot massage and I’m anybody's.

Along in seat 4, row G, ‘house’ 3 at the cinema in World Square, I’m slipping into hypothermia. Save me Bruce Wayne!

Up on the 3rd floor of Treasure Lake Golden Banquet I’m dueling chopsticks with Lee over the last scraps of turnip cake.

Perched up on the brocade bar stools at the Feather Boa, that second chocolate Martini seemed like a good idea…

On Sunday, in Sydney, I’m going to stand out in the back yard, suck down some clean air, relish the cold and use up a bit of space. Sound of Music style.

Wednesday ....whatever

Cool

Hmmph

I knew they were evil

Critical Mass

This month's Critical Mass is just around the corner and I'm inviting everyone with access to a bicycle to come join me. It's a leisurely (where I come from, if you're pedaling too hard to open your beer can at the same time, you're riding too fast) ride through your fair city that happens the last Friday of every month. Critical mass started in San Francisco in 1993 and has spread worldwide, including Australia! It's a great way to get some pre-pub exercise on a Friday evening.


To summarize ('zed' used for effect):
Who: anyone with a bike, not just hippies, art students, Kevin Rudd supporters, etc.
What: Sydney Critical Mass
Where: Meets @ Archibald Fountain of Hyde Park, route TBD
Wear: Sensible shoes and reflective clothing
When: Friday the 25th. People start to meet at the fountain around 5:30, ride leaves around 6.
Why: To celebrate non-motorized transport



Here's a link with more info: http://www.bikesarefun.org/

Hope y'all can make it,

Jeff

Finding Sole Town

I started out on Saturday morning a wretched creature with the vilest of hangovers thanks to a ‘few’ ‘quiet’ after work drinks, Phil’s company card and Jane’s bright ideas. But I’ve really got no one to blame but myself.

I hung in there all the way to Sydney airport, all the way to HK, gliding into Sheung Wan on the MTR, lurching up to Hollywood Rd in my cab and then the final gruesome leg, up the 8 floors to my apartment, with many an internal pep talk at every throb of my temple and twist of my guts all along the way.

After what seemed like eternity, Mr Paul finally completed his guided tour of my kitchen cupboards, bathroom cabinet, extensive wardrobe, services manual, light switches and selection of remote controls. I was finally left alone. I had prevailed. I was arrived. I was curled up on the floor under a steaming shower.

Sunday brought duller stomach aches, rain and adventure: exploring the streets and alleys of Soho, the culinary delights of neighbourhood eateries and the nuances of my clothes steamer. (No iron!) Nikki and Trent reunited me with my old treacherous friend - a first cautious glass of wine and a Tsingtao.

On Monday, I found my HK niche. I skipped puddles on glistening streets, bustled down escalators into the veins of the city, shot through tunnels in a sea of bobbing dark heads and then up the 35 floors to my little desk by the window with the muted harbour yawning out before me. From there I sip endless cups of Chinese tea, strain to interpret accents on the phone, venture out with Ethan for tasty lunchtime noodles and try not to fumble and drop the work Lee throws at me. My trip home again is relatively unobstructed, save the dalliance of a scenic route, a spontaneous dinner stop or that cute little dress – black with white polka dots – that threw herself on me and would not let me pass until I’d surrendered my credit card.

Phone-camera photo by Liela. Special thanks to Jeff who made it all possible. I am his biggest fan.

Outwardly, I had settled into a new and wonderful routine, chest puffed up with anticipation, eyes wide with wonder, Birkenstocks sodden with rain. But deep inside a little chink was gaping, a mocking shadow. A piece was missing. I wasn’t quite there. I was still searching… for something.

And then tonight, I found it. I emerged into the gleaming white and found myself surrounded by hundreds of pretty little nymphs, all winking at me, whispering my name, tickling my toes. It was there above the grit and drizzle of the city streets that I finally found my Sole Town.

And tonight, I clutch a new pair of size 6.5 Steve Madden flats to my bosom and feel my arrival in HK finally complete. Bring it on.

Bacon Cookies

Expect these at Christmas in September

Sig Heil!

Freedom - Warning this post is of a political nature

So, Friday afternoon and I am maintaining the rage!

I have written to the Premier, the Deputy Premier and the NSW Attorney General to voice my annoyance.

Dear Attorney General,

I write to voice my growing disgust at the way civil liberties in NSW
are being curtailed for World Youth Day. I have no issue with Sydney
being the host city of this event or with the government offering
significant financial backing to it. I will even deal with the 300 odd
road closures, it is a small price to pay to live in a global city and
I wouldn't want it any other way.

The right to protest is necessary for the functioning of good
government. Protest is annoying, that part of it point isn't? Think
back to all those previously annoying protest against things like the
South Africa Government, the Vietnam war, Industrial Relations
"reform", Pauline Hanson and The Iraq war. Plainly all those momentous
protests would have been so much more effective if their signage and
shirts had be "pre-approved" by that bastion of dissent, the NSW
police force.

Every time you give away minor civil liberties you get a little bit
closer to the regimes you are sworn to protect us from. Lucky for you
most people don't miss their civil liberties until they're gone and by
then it is all to late.

Benjamin Franklin observed in 1757 -" They who can give up essential
liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty
nor safety". I'm sure Bob Carr can fill you in on the significance of
the remark.

Yours in Protest

Nick