1. Rego WQA 056, some black kind of 4wd, speeding through St Kilda at 9.20am today.
Do you have any idea the number of cars/people on bikes you almost hit as you swerved and sped while you were obviously rushing to somewhere and putting on your blusher?
What??
Oh, they call it bronzer these days?
You were at the two sets of lights with your makeup brush sweeping whatever the fuck it was across your pointy little face. Then you'd speed off, no indication, swerved dangerously close to a cyclist, dragging people off at the lights, changing lanes without warning.
You are one dangerous person, lady.
I swear, if someone like you killed someone I loved I would fucking hunt you down like a pig and hurt you so badly.
Young women are the most dangerous of all drivers. They're worse than male hoons.
2. Saw 17 Again yesterday with my two daughters. I asked them if they'd go with me, so that I didn't look too pathetic. They were my beards. Luckily they were happy to go, even though they both despise the High School Musical trilogy as something so beneath them and their early-teen sensibilities.
As it was I still looked pathetic, being the only adult in the mostly-empty cinema. It was good, we loved it. We laughed, we cried and it just fed my wrong crush on Zac Ephron in a pretty sad way. And when we were driving home and I used the word "awesome" to describe the cafeteria scene (I swear, it was an ironic usage), Princess dissed me. She thinks it so wrong I use the word 'awesome' (she doesn't get irony yet, which I'm surprised at because she's so sophisticated in other ways.) Imagine, though, if she knew about the Ephrong crush? I HAVE MY NEEDS!
3. Was it stupid for me to give my dad the url to this blog? It probably was. However, he'd been asking on and off over the years, and wasn't letting go. So I promised I'd give it to him and I did last night. I think he'll like everyone on here, especially you INC. He used to teach Sunday school when he was young. I think I'm the one he'll hate mostly because my nineteen-year-old self whinges about him in my diaries and I admit I have called him a cunt on here on occasion. Anyway, if someone starts commenting anonymously and sounds a bit "daddish" it'll be the Dodge. No, not the Doge, the Dodge. You'll see.
4. Off to a secret location today. Did you know there are beach huts to the west of Melbourne? A friend and I are going to explore. He has a new car so we are taking a quick day trip squeezed into an otherwise pretty busy day.
Showing posts with label my dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my dad. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Saturday, August 20, 2005
who is player number 6 for west coast?
because today i thought i'd like to peel off his thigh tape with my teeth. not in a 'fuck you, you're beating my team and i want to shred you with my bare nails' way but in a 'you have very nice thighs and i'd like to get my tongue on them' way
this, however, was just a mild distraction during the game at kardinia park.
firstly, it was warm. i took off my coat [which is slightly puffy but thankfully doesn't 'swoosh' a la george costanza]. i had been expecting rain, in fact it was forecast. didn't rain. not a drop.
then, during warm up practice, the balls were raining left right and centre. i think i have mentioned before my dad's seats are right behind geelong goals. several years ago, he got a ball to the face, care of gary ablett. and i got a ball in my lap which spilled my beer. NOT THAT TYPE OF BALL! and not from gary.
well today i got a ball to the left breast, care of some wc fuck. dad also got a ball to the lip, which came off the seat behind, and after dad's lip, hit princess on the head. the ball, not dad's lip. so our family's list of warm-up ball contact grows.
it was all a bit much for princess and her protective mother.
there was an old lady cowering behind the fence right at the front. she was squatted right down holding a cushion over her head. the man next to us told us that last week she got hit by a warm-up ball and had to be stretchered out. no shit. but there she was, back on the old horse, even if she was terrified.
then a frisson ran through the crowd. three mighty large telegraphic lenses were pointed right at us.
'they're getting a close up of my breast,' i thought.
but no. the word was gary senior was in the crowd. and there he was, in his old place in the hickey stand. looking shifty in shades.
the game started, it was great. occasionally i was distracted yet again by tape. it's funny, the leg bandages don't really affect me. it's definitely the tape that does it. leg and shoulder.
i also noticed stephen king [no.1 for geelong] is mighty fine. plus he's a really good writer. he had shoulder tape.
each time geelong kicked a goal i looked at my dad's face. now, roger has 'high colour' at the best of times. but with each goal, his complexion darkened and ruddied to a puce of ecstasy. he would grin at me and give me the thumbs up. so old school. so gorgeous.
but there's something odd about my dad. he is the list man to end all list men. on the kitchen bench, right here, is a three-item list of his. this is it, verbatim:
shot gun
bread maker?
find my Trinity tankard + glass whisky decanter
do you find anything strange about this list?
to end the evening, princess and i had a "bratz off"
this is where we each chose three bratz dolls and then dressed them according to our individual taste. then we got dad to select his top three. princess won first place for some sassy little tokyo a go-go, multicoloured-braids, miniskirt outfit, then her cloe came second with a funky get up with knee boots and legwarmers. my jade came third with her snow outfit which had a mini kilt and black ankle boots.
i could have sworn dad would go for my sophisticated jade with mint green evening dress, or my angelina in her frilled man's tux shirt belted over plaid low rider flares.
there's no accounting for some tastes.
this, however, was just a mild distraction during the game at kardinia park.
firstly, it was warm. i took off my coat [which is slightly puffy but thankfully doesn't 'swoosh' a la george costanza]. i had been expecting rain, in fact it was forecast. didn't rain. not a drop.
then, during warm up practice, the balls were raining left right and centre. i think i have mentioned before my dad's seats are right behind geelong goals. several years ago, he got a ball to the face, care of gary ablett. and i got a ball in my lap which spilled my beer. NOT THAT TYPE OF BALL! and not from gary.
well today i got a ball to the left breast, care of some wc fuck. dad also got a ball to the lip, which came off the seat behind, and after dad's lip, hit princess on the head. the ball, not dad's lip. so our family's list of warm-up ball contact grows.
it was all a bit much for princess and her protective mother.
there was an old lady cowering behind the fence right at the front. she was squatted right down holding a cushion over her head. the man next to us told us that last week she got hit by a warm-up ball and had to be stretchered out. no shit. but there she was, back on the old horse, even if she was terrified.
then a frisson ran through the crowd. three mighty large telegraphic lenses were pointed right at us.
'they're getting a close up of my breast,' i thought.
but no. the word was gary senior was in the crowd. and there he was, in his old place in the hickey stand. looking shifty in shades.
the game started, it was great. occasionally i was distracted yet again by tape. it's funny, the leg bandages don't really affect me. it's definitely the tape that does it. leg and shoulder.
i also noticed stephen king [no.1 for geelong] is mighty fine. plus he's a really good writer. he had shoulder tape.
each time geelong kicked a goal i looked at my dad's face. now, roger has 'high colour' at the best of times. but with each goal, his complexion darkened and ruddied to a puce of ecstasy. he would grin at me and give me the thumbs up. so old school. so gorgeous.
but there's something odd about my dad. he is the list man to end all list men. on the kitchen bench, right here, is a three-item list of his. this is it, verbatim:
shot gun
bread maker?
find my Trinity tankard + glass whisky decanter
do you find anything strange about this list?
to end the evening, princess and i had a "bratz off"
this is where we each chose three bratz dolls and then dressed them according to our individual taste. then we got dad to select his top three. princess won first place for some sassy little tokyo a go-go, multicoloured-braids, miniskirt outfit, then her cloe came second with a funky get up with knee boots and legwarmers. my jade came third with her snow outfit which had a mini kilt and black ankle boots.
i could have sworn dad would go for my sophisticated jade with mint green evening dress, or my angelina in her frilled man's tux shirt belted over plaid low rider flares.
there's no accounting for some tastes.
Friday, August 19, 2005
down the bellarine
we are away for a mini break as brigit jones would say. is it bridgit or brigit? whatever.
with a d.
we drove down out of melbourne to a little sleepy place by the water where my dad has a holiday house. it's sleepy in winter, crazy in summer. what a change to when we were kids.
the weather was filthy as we drove, my girl and i. recently i've started letting her sit in the front seat. we have far too many conversations where she asks me again and again whether the air bag would suffocate her if we had a smash. all i can say is i don't know. and that we won 't have a smash.
'do you want to play a game?' she asked [eye spy, or 20 questions]
'no sweetie' i said 'i have to concentrate [on not killing us]. the road is really bad and the traffic is mad'
p-platers overtook us, all spoiler and gutsy engines.
we made it.
we went to the pub.
i had an unsatisfying blue grenadier with chips and salad. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
now everyone is asleep.
the dad in his room, where he has his radio next to the bed, ready to turn on at 6am.
the princess in our room, with her teddy and snoozy blanket, and hottie.
the gigilove in her room [laundry] with her chewed up teddy.
off to the football tomorrow. to see geelong [beat/lose to] west coast eagles.
this is our annual kardinia park pilgrimage. for my dad.
he cries when they win. he laughs when geelong kicks goals. my dad has the loudest laugh. seriously, people will turn around in their seats, drag their eyes away from the action on the ground to see where the noise is coming from.
dad's seats are right behind the geelong goals. once gary ablett kicked a ball into dad's face while he was warming up. it broke dad's glasses and he had to go and see the nurse in sick bay and get a bandaid. we felt special and blessed. once a ball fell in my lap and splashed my beer all over the girl in front of me. last year, geelong beat brisbane, the sun shone and we danced on our seats. not really. tomorrow i pray it doesn't rain. and i hope they win for dad's sake.
carn the cats
convincing aren't i?
with a d.
we drove down out of melbourne to a little sleepy place by the water where my dad has a holiday house. it's sleepy in winter, crazy in summer. what a change to when we were kids.
the weather was filthy as we drove, my girl and i. recently i've started letting her sit in the front seat. we have far too many conversations where she asks me again and again whether the air bag would suffocate her if we had a smash. all i can say is i don't know. and that we won 't have a smash.
'do you want to play a game?' she asked [eye spy, or 20 questions]
'no sweetie' i said 'i have to concentrate [on not killing us]. the road is really bad and the traffic is mad'
p-platers overtook us, all spoiler and gutsy engines.
we made it.
we went to the pub.
i had an unsatisfying blue grenadier with chips and salad. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
now everyone is asleep.
the dad in his room, where he has his radio next to the bed, ready to turn on at 6am.
the princess in our room, with her teddy and snoozy blanket, and hottie.
the gigilove in her room [laundry] with her chewed up teddy.
off to the football tomorrow. to see geelong [beat/lose to] west coast eagles.
this is our annual kardinia park pilgrimage. for my dad.
he cries when they win. he laughs when geelong kicks goals. my dad has the loudest laugh. seriously, people will turn around in their seats, drag their eyes away from the action on the ground to see where the noise is coming from.
dad's seats are right behind the geelong goals. once gary ablett kicked a ball into dad's face while he was warming up. it broke dad's glasses and he had to go and see the nurse in sick bay and get a bandaid. we felt special and blessed. once a ball fell in my lap and splashed my beer all over the girl in front of me. last year, geelong beat brisbane, the sun shone and we danced on our seats. not really. tomorrow i pray it doesn't rain. and i hope they win for dad's sake.
carn the cats
convincing aren't i?
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