Monday washup (or a tastin' and a wastin' we will go)

If you haven't seen Confetti at the movies yet, then you are seriously missing out! Go see it...in fact, stop what you're doing right now and go and see it...you'll like it. Well....you'll like it if you enjoy shows such as The Office, Green Wing and Black Books. We watched in Friday night and apart from uncomfortably long sequences of nakedness I didn't stop laughing! In fact...I might even go and see it again!

Saturday saw us moving the final bits and pieces out of Flit's old place in Naremburn. He is now fully moved into our new home and boy are there a lot of boxes to unpack!! Since Saturday was such a busy day, what better way to wind down than with a trip to the Lord Nelson for some beer tasting? Of course Flit felt it was his duty to ensure only the best beers were served at our wedding and Matt being the dutiful Groomsman that he is, agreed to shoulder the burden with him.

Let's just have a little look at the results:


Apparently we can be heros....after quite a few pints!

Perhaps heros isn't the right word....

Perhaps we should all have stuck to water?

I don't think I can show the photos of the trip home...I don't remember taking them, but they're proof I did and reason I can't remember.

Sunday brought bright sunlight, sore heads and long drives down to Tahmoor for our penultimate wedding prep session. Woohoo....only 4 weeks to go!

Just quickly before I sign off I might just give you all a brief rundown on other SRF weekends (well at least the ones I know about!)....

Lady and Matten busied themselves with wedding invites, wedding dress material and engagement present cocktails up in the blue horizon bar in town. John had a quiet one tinkering while he prepared himself to pick up his beloved from the airport at a disgracefully early hour on Sunday. Richard and Suzy broke their happy news to their folks and Bron and Mattes worked and basically followed us around a bit!

Ahh happy times!

Business as usual

Dash it all. It’s coming up to that time of year again when I have to pack my bags and head off into the pacific for ‘data collection’ and ‘member support’ and my September destination this time will be Palau. That means I’ll have to stay here.




Hmm, I wonder how a laptop goes in a hammock?

I might have to be careful not to get confused and think I’m actually Magnum PI.

I can just see myself sipping on my ‘hair of the dog’ breakfast when Higgins comes strolling up to tell me about my next dangerous assignment in the sun…

That funny old Higgins. He pretends to disapprove of me but deep down I know he’s just a big softy.

Friday and holy good buggery I'm bored!

Well I've done a touch of trawling lately and found a couple of minor amusements to keep me occupied.

The evils of bread

A social movement that I hope catches on around the world. (this one may be undergoing maintenance)

A really cool clock.

Enjoy.

Shoes - the story you won't hear on Shoesday Tuesday

It'll end in financial ruin I tells ya.

pun-a-topia

Did you know Ghandi had badly worn feet, dicky tummy and bad breath acquired from years of wandering about barefoot, starving himself. It meant he was a super-calloused, fragile mystic vexed with halitosis.


A man is waiting for wife to give birth. The doctor comes in and informs the dad that his son was born without torso, arms or legs. The son is just a head! But the dad loves his son and raises him as well as he can, with love and compassion. After 21 years, the son is old enough for his first drink. Dad takes him to the bar and tearfully tells the son he is proud of him.
Dad orders up the biggest, strongest drink for his boy. With all the bar patrons looking on curiously and the bartender shaking his head in disbelief, the boy takes his first sip of alcohol. Swoooop! A torso pops out!
The bar is dead silent; then bursts into a whoop of joy. The father, shocked, begs his son to drink again. The patrons chant “Take another drink”! The bartender still shakes his head in dismay.
Swoooop! Two arms pops out. The bar goes wild. The father, crying and wailing, begs his son to drink again. The patrons chant, “Take another drink”! The bartender ignores the whole affair. By now the boy is getting tipsy, and with his new hands he reaches down, grabs his drink and guzzles the last of it. Swoooop! Two legs pop out.
The bar is in chaos. The father falls to his knees and tearfully thanks God. The boy stands up on his new legs and stumbles to the left…. then to the right…. right through the front door, into the street, where a truck runs over him and kills him instantly.
The bar falls silent. The father moans in grief. The bartender sighs and says, “That boy should have quit while he was a head.”


A frog goes into a bank and approaches the teller.
He can see from her nameplate that the teller's name is Patricia Whack. So he says, "Ms. Whack, I'd like to get a loan to buy a boat and go on a long vacation."
Patti looks at the frog in disbelief and asks how much he wants to borrow. The frog says $30,000. The teller asks his name and the frog says that his name is Kermit Jagger, his dad is Mick Jagger, and that it's OK, he knows the bank manager.
Patti explains that $30,000 is a substantial amount of money and that he will need to secure some collateral against the loan. She asks if he has anything he can use as collateral. The frog says, "Sure. I have this," and produces a tiny pink porcelain elephant, about half an inch tall. Bright pink and perfectly formed.
Very confused, Patti explains that she'll have to consult with the manager and disappears into a back office. She finds the manager and says: "There's a frog called Kermit Jagger out there who claims to know you and wants to borrow $30,000. And he wants to use this as collateral." She holds up the tiny pink elephant. "I mean, what the heck is this?"
The bank manager looks back at her and says: "It's a knick knack, Patti Whack. Give the frog a loan. His old man's a Rolling Stone"