A Quick Story

The sun was setting as two black horses pulled a black carriage with gold trimming along the well worn road. The driver could see the city in the distance. He sat back with a smile and allowed himself to relax a little. The master's daughter was almost home. Eager to get home himself, the driver spurred the horses on even faster with a shout.
He didn't see what spooked the horses. All of a sudden they reared back kicking their front legs and screaming. The sound was horrendous. The driver just had time to hope that he'd never hear that sound again before he was thrown from his seat. He landed heavily beside the road and never heard another sound again.
The horses veered off the road, dragging the carriage after them. Off the well used road, the carriage bounced crazily until it finally snapped free of the horses, bouncing sideways until it finally came to rest upside down.
Some minutes later one of the carriage doors was forced open and a dishevelled young woman, looking much the worse for wear after her misadventure in the carriage, toppled out. She landed face down in the soft dirt. She then shakily pushed herself up so that she was kneeling on her knees and dazedly looked around. She pushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes and almost fainted when she saw that there was blood on her gloved hand. She leant back against the carriage to try and steady herself.
"Driver!"
She waited for him to respond. He didn't.
"Driver!" She called out louder this time, starting to feel mildly annoyed that the driver hadn't yet answered her call. The fact that he could be dead hadn't even crossed her mind. Feeling pretty close to hysterics, she almost screamed for the driver, threatening this time that unless he answered her immediately he would lose his job.
Still no answer. But then,
"May I be of assistance, miss?" It wasn't the driver asking.
She looked up at the voice and saw a young, nicely dressed man smiling encouragingly and offering her his hand. Even in the dim light she could see that his eyes were almost an orange colour.
She accepted his offered hand and let him help her to her feet.
"I heard your shouts from the road and thought I'd better come and help." He explained, still smiling easily.
The young woman found his smile reassuring somehow. "Thank you. I'm sure my father will be pleased to hear about your help to me."
He just smiled before assisting her back to the road. Once there her took her arm and began leading her away from the city.
"Where are you taking me?" She demanded, alarmed. "The city is that way." She indicated the opposite direction they were going with her free hand.
"It'll take us hours to walk there. It'll be much faster if we go this way: there's a pub a mile back. We can send word to your father and wait for him there."
"I don't remember see a pub." She frowned, although allowing the stranger to lead her once again.
"Maybe you weren't looking for it." The young man smiled.
The young woman wasn't sure how long they walked for. But they walked long enough for her feet to start hurting in her shoes. She was about to start complaining about it when a dingy looking tavern loomed up through the gloom. The lights from inside glowed dimly through the windows.
Again the young woman felt a sense of apprehension and paused.
"Relax, it's a reputable place." The young man smiled again, correctly guessing why she had slowed down.
Although his smile once again reassured her, the young woman carefully looked him up and down. His dark hair was slicked back and carefully parted to one side. He was in a dark coloured silk shirt, which was tucked into charcoal grey trousers and was in carefully polished black boots that went up to just below his knees. She looked back up into his orange eyes. They matched his smile and twinkled warmly at her, encouraging her to trust him. She followed him into the tavern which she noticed was called The Jolly Hunter.
The inside was far more welcoming than the exterior of the tavern indicated; a large heart fire burned warmly in one corner and on all of the polished tables burned at least three large red candles. Many of the tables were taken by groups of people merrily talking as they drank and ate.
"The table by the fire is free." The young man nodded towards the fire place. "What's your father's name so that I know who to address the telegram too."
She told him her father's name before going to sit and wait for him at the table he had indicated. She nervously sat on the edge of her chair and watched the young man talking to the man behind the counter. After a few minutes, the young man joined her at the table carrying two glasses of red wine.
"While we wait for your father." He smiled, placing the glass down in front of her. She thanked him and politely took a sip from the glass. She didn't really want to drink with a stranger. No matter how nice she found him.
The young man fixed his eyes on her as he took a sip from his own glass. He then started asking her questions about her recent trip and her life. She found herself easily answering his questions. She didn't ask him any. She was surprised when she went to take a sip of wine and discovered that the glass was empty. She didn't remember drinking anything while she talked. The young man laughed when she expressed her surprise at this to him. He waved at the bartender who promptly brought over two more glasses to their table.
This time the young man regaled her with stories from far off lands. His eyes still never leaving hers, and she leant closer in to better hear his stories. A bell tinkled as the tavern door opened. She hadn't heard it when they had entered. The young man looked away from her towards the door.
"It looks like we part company now."
She followed his gaze and recognised her father's old cook, although she didn't know his name.
"Thank you for rescuing me and providing the most wonderful company while I waited for my father, Mister ..." She faltered, realising for the first time that she didn't know his name.
"I go by many names. But a lot of people know me as Adrian." He smiled, rising and helping her to her feet. He led her towards the open door that the chef was holding open for them.
The air outside was chillier than expected and the young woman shivered after being in such a warm building. Adrian guided her to the horse and buggy that stood waiting nearby while the chef clambered up into the drivers seat.
Adrian opened the door for her and allowed to place one foot on the step before pulling her closer to him than was proper. She found she didn't mind this. Her ran a finger down her cheek and under her chin, lifting her face so that she was looking into his smiling orange eyes.
"I rescued you and know everything about you except one thing," he said so softly that she could barely hear him. "What is your name?"
She told him.
As soon as he was certain that she was safely seated and comfortable, Adrian bid her good night and closed the door. She could hear him and the chef exchange a few words before the chef spurred the horse into action, and the buggy slowly rocked away from the tavern.
She looked out the side window, Adrian was standing with his hands behind his back. He smiled and waved goodbye just as she lost him from sight.

Shopping etiquette

So after braving the post Boxing Day sales crowds today I couldn't help but noticing that some (or a lot of) people clearly need to be reminded about some pretty basic shopping centre etiquette (which is even more important with large crowds).

For some reason many people seem to think that stopping in shop doors is perfectly acceptable. It IS NOT.

People also seem to think that stopping in the middle of the walk way and blocking the flow of traffic is also perfectly acceptable. It IS NOT.

A lot of people seem to think that just walking around in a daze and constantly getting in everyone's way all the time is also acceptable. Again, it IS NOT.

Another thing that people seem to think is ok is letting their brood of kids run feral and trip up everyone. It's not.

If people do any of the above they are fair game to an elbow in the ribs (it's the only way to let them know they're in the way) and an insincere apology (only if you're feeling generous though) that points out that the elbow could've been avoided if they hasn't been blocking the flow of traffic. Of course, elbowing the kids isn't acceptable (it's not their fault their parents let them run around like feral little animals), but if they're particularly bad don't try to dodge them if they're about to run into you. Let them run into you and bounce back. That usually means they'll avoid you from then on. Although that still doesn't help with their parents. My favourite way to let parents know their kids are being feral is to carry on just like their kids (minus the running everywhere). Do it loud enough with whoever you're shopping with and the kids are either told to behave or are quickly moved away (plus the whole "stop poking me!" "Stop walking into my finger!" Etc thing is fun).

But of course, if everyone simply remembered that stopping the flow of traffic is selfish and inconsiderate and actually controlled their kids better then the whole sales shopping experience would be so much more pleasant ... plus there'd be a lot less elbowing people and embarrassing parents with misbehaving kids.

Mortein Naturgard

Sounds like a pretty cool product, right? Killing all of those disgusting bugs that we hate so much and without using all of those nasty chemicals that we also hate so much.

But it did get me to wondering how Mortein managed to create such a magical product using mostly nature. I mean, if they managed to can such an efficient and natural bug killer in a compressed gas form, why are there still so many bugs around annoying us and dirtying up our nice clean homes?

But then I noticed this:

Now, I don't know what plant based actives are. And after trying a few google searches, I can only assume that these plant based actives is in fact a typo, and what they really mean is "No plant based activities. Although, I don't really know what plant based activities has to do with killing those pesky insects or how Mortein would manage to can that in compressed gas form (which is probably where there's no plant based actives/activities.

Still, I thought that maybe the Mortein website could help me with this ... and it did help; Apparently the little disclaimer about the "No plant based actives" is accurate.

There's only one plant based active: pyrethrins, which comes from the pyrethrum flowers (thank you, google).

But apparently it's not all that, because right next to this statement is a ** disclaiming that there's also synthetic ingredients as well.

So apparently, there's no magical, natural ingredient/s that can just kill those annoying insects without the aid of those nasty synthetic ingredients. But then, anyone who's constantly complaining about insects would probably be aware of this, and wouldn't be foolish enough to buy this product.

After all, if there was there'd be no need to buy it.





http://www.mortein.com.au/product_nat_auto_ind_insect.php

The Old Timer (Another Train Observation)

The old man slowly ambled into the lobby of the train station. Like everyone else, he immediately noticed the large group, consisting of mostly women, all wearing red and shook his head. Just like everyone else he knew their cause, knew that it was a worthy one.

But he still didn't support them.

He didn't see the point of them causing so much disruption to everyone else. He knew that they weren't going to get their payrise.

He had seen this before. Seen it many times. Had even been involved in a few protests. He knew how it would end:

If they were lucky the teacher's protest would result in nothing except extensive media coverage. Of course, this wouldn't be enough and more strikes would
follow.

He remembered his own days when he had protested for a payrise. Just like the teachers, he and his colleagues had been determined to keep striking until they were offered a decent payrise. They striked frequently for about 12 months before the company became completely fed up and fired everyone, not just the people striking.

This naturally angered everyone, and all of the former employees took to the streets to protest against their sacking.

They should've just left it to a few angry words over a couple of rounds of beer the night before:

The police were waiting for them the next day. They clashed violently with the police and many of them were arrested and charged with disrupting the peace and resisting arrest as well as many others charges.

The old man, then a young man, had been charged as one of the ringleaders. He had been sent to prison.

When he was released many years later he had learnt his lesson: it wasn't worth protesting for better pay and working conditions, no matter how bad they are.

Once released, he struggled to find employment again. Because of his past, potential employers saw his as a possible trouble maker not worth employing. Even the government was reluctant to pay him welfare, believing that his current situation was self inflicted.

Eventually, though, he was able to find part time work doing clerical duties a couple of days a week. Although he knew he was being severly underpaid he didn't dare to complain about. Being underpaid was still better than not being paid.

His lesson had been learnt.

Now he looked on as the striking teacher excitedly prepared for their protest. He knew what was in store for them and couldn't believe that they couldn't see it for themselves.

"You're wasting your bloody time. And everybody else's." He growled at a nearby teacher with so vividly red that she had obviously died it for the occasion.

She glared at him as he made his way to the platform to wait foe his train.

He didn't care that he had angered her. He knew what her future had in store for her.

He had experienced it himself.

The Family on the Train (A Quick Observation)

It was the family's first trip out of town. The three of them sat eagerly on the train, anxiously wondering if their fortunes would change in Melbourne.

To show his independence the son sat on a different set of four seats to his parents. But as soon as he heard the conductor announce that the train would be stopping at more stations and picking up more passengers he quickly rejoined his parents and sat next to his father. Despite their rough appearance, or maybe because of this, the family had interacted with few people outside of their little unit. The thought of sitting next to a stranger was just too much for the son.

As the train departed the station, the whole family played around with their own iPhone, the father and son showing each other the games they were playing and trying to beat the other's high score. The mother stared sullenly out the window listening to music through bright green earphones that matched the Monster can she was drinking from. Of the three of them, she was the least excited about their move to Melbourne. Probably because they were moving with only the clothes on their backs, their iPhones and whatever money they had in the pockets.

Not the best new beginning.

Especially when moving to a big city like Melbourne.

But she knew that it was their only choice. That they had to hope for the best once they arrived. Hope that at least one of the three could find find work go support the rest.

They all knew that their chances of finding working were bleak. But no one voiced this fear. Choosing to ignore that they could be stuck in a big, strange city with the friends or family and without any food and shelter. Without a way back home.

This was their last chance to survive.

None of them were willing to acknowledge that this venture could , and most probably would, fail. The consequences were too dire for them if it did.

Vline, The Time Traveller's Choice of Transport

I have often wondered why the Vline drivers sometimes announce that the train will be running express from Melton to Bacchus Marsh, Bacchus Marsh to Ballan etc etc when it's very clear that there are no stops to stop at between those places.

Who would be foolish enough to think that they could take the train to a stop between Ballan and Ballarat?

But then it just occurred to me, the time travellers might not be aware that these stops don't exist at this time. The announcements about running express are for their benefit.

That's right, Vline is in collusion with the time travellers.

You'd think with time travellers Vline would manage to be punctual more often.

Words That Vex Me

Colonel really is a stupid word.

Well, the way that it's pronounced is; kernel.

if it's going to be pronounced that way, then at least it should be spelt a little more phonetically ... or at the very least, it should be spelt a little less like colony.

Or are we just mispronouncing colony? Should we be, in fact, pronouncing it kerny?

Well, according to Google, everyone who pronounces colonel kernel is wrong: colo·nel.

The Hidden Dangers of Sunscreen?

For years we have been told to "slip, slop, slap" in an effort to reduce our chances of getting skin cancer.

Except apparently that's no longer as safe as everyone would have you believe:

Apparently sunscreen now contains nano particles. This helps prevents a white layer being left on your skin after applying sunscreen. To be honest, I never gave the disappearance of this white layer a second thought. I was just happy that it was gone, and that I could protect myself against the sun's rays without this white layer being left behind.

Except however, this could be causing us damage without us even realising it: apparently the nano particles of zinc oxide and titanium dioxide create free radicals that have the power to destroy painted surfaces and DNA.

Except all this talk of nano particles and free radicals brings to my mind grey mist clouds roaming the land and ravaging everything it touches and leaving behind anarchists in their wake.

Not exactly something that I would associate with sunscreen that is supposed to protect us from the sun's damaging rays.

Apparently there might be some truth to the world ending this year, after all; it seems that everything we or don't do will get us killed. And usually a pretty slow and painful way.

No matter what we do, something unpleasant is going to get us.

Sources;
http://www.health.gov.au/internet/main/publishing.nsf/Content/currentissue-P10000045
http://www.choice.com.au/reviews-and-tests/food-and-health/beauty-and-personal-care/cosmetics/sunscreen-and-nanoparticles.aspx
http://sandpaw.weblogs.anu.edu.au/2012/06/04/nanoparticles-in-sunscreens-small-science-big-risk/
http://www.csiro.au/en/Portals/Publications/Brochures--Fact-Sheets/sunscreens-FAQ/Why-are-nanoparticles-put-in-sunscreens.aspx

Time to Get Political

Tomorrow Australia will find out if we get a break from the petty squabblings of the Labour Party for a few months or not. Both Gillard and Rudd are claiming that they are the ones who can lead Labour to Victory against Abbot in the next election, which is a complete lie. As long as either of those two is leading the Labour Party, the Liberal Party will win the next election with ease. If Labour is to have any chance of victory a crafty sneaky third bastard needs to put up their hand to run for leadership tomorrow as well.

Who knows, the surprise third candidate might actually be enough to get the votes needed to lead Labour for a few months until the petty squabbling starts up again.

But that's the whole problem with the Labour Leadership, isn't it? They can seem to go a few months before someone gets dissatisfied with his/her lot and starts causing trouble for the party, which then causes the Australian public to lose faith in Labour. Not to mention the annoyance that the people who are supposed to be running this country can't even govern themselves for a few months at a time.

There is a simple way that Labour can avoid all of this trouble and the complete loss of faith that it brings with it; every 18 months or so Labour holds a kind of tournament where anyone who wants to lead Labour can compete.

The events in this tournament will include a few games of Monopoly (to find out how well they can manage finances), Mario Kart Balloon Battles (to see how well they cope under stressful situations), an essay (which will be read by completely neutral judges) about why they think they should be the one to lead Labour, a general knowledge test (we don't want idiots running the country) followed by a round of Dodge Ball (which will be played at 5:30am and may or may not be done so while seriously hungover so that the men can be seperated from the boys, so to speak).

The winner of the Dodge Ball round will automatically go through to the next round, as well as the best performers in general from all of the other tests.

The next, and final round will be a game of Risk. Whoever wins Risk will be the leader of the Labour party for the next 18 months or so.

That should stop all of the childish and petty squabbling over who's turn it is to be in charge.

And remember, Australia, we're not America. We vote for the party not the person.

OMG!

I'm some sort of magical person with special access to some powerful magical force within the universe! Or at least that's what Tara is saying ... and I don't know how this is supposed to help her convince me to pay for her pyschic services; why would I need to pay for something that I can apparently do myself?

Although, maybe I should give Tara some compensation for revealing my apparent Jedi powers to me. I doubt I would've figured that out by myself.

Maybe Jedi isn't the right term to use, since they seem to have an immediate result when they put their mind to something. According to Tara I have to have patience and let whatever it is I want to happen to happen in it's own time ... which is probably why I would never have figured out that I have some kind of awesome, albeit weak, Jedi powers.

But still, if I really do have a connection with the Supreme Vibration, which is apparently the real power in the universe, then it's not something to sniff at ... even if I wish it was a little stronger within me so that I could be a little more like a real Jedi and be able to perform mind tricks and lift things with my mind.

Although, there was nothing in Tara's email that said that I couldn't do any of this stuff. All she said is that I just have to focus on a realistic and attainable goal. I doubt that Jedi's are able to instantly lift things with their minds. So maybe I should give this a try and start small and gradually work my way up to throwing things across the room without lifting a finger.

After all, as Tara said, The Supreme Vibration is within me.

Things I Learned at Work This Week

Ok, so some of these things that I have learned weren't learned this week, but over the whole time I have been working. This week just drove home those things.

Firstly, it seems that people can grow hair anywhere; At least once a day I am surprised by where someone has hair growth. And that hairy chests isn't just restricted to men. Women can also have hairy chest! Although, it's an even less attractive look on a woman, and really disturbing to boot!

Then there's also the fact that the Ballarat City Coucil really should have better signage for their public toilets. No one seems to know where they are. I'm constantly being asked for directions to the toilets ... so much so that I'm sure I would make a nice little profit if I started charging people for directions (although they might be a little annoyed when I tell them that the toilets are just around the corner).

But it's not just the toilets I have to give directions to; people are starting to look for the educational book shop. It seems that they have a general idea of where to look but still can't find it and then get lost looking for it elsewhere. I could totally charge extra for directions to the educational book shop (but again, people may feel a little ripped off when I tell them it's up Sturt St and then a right turn at Collins Booksellers).

It also appears that news spreads fast. Whether it's good news or bad, it still spreads at the same speed; most of the people I speak to now have heard about the energy savers through friends and family and half of them have heard great things and want to get them also, while the other half have heard horrible things and just want to complain about them. So apparently it doesn't matter if it's good or bad news, it still spreads and creates awareness. And all this time I thought bad news spread way faster than good news. Apparently not.

EzyLine Might Be Onto Something

With this commercial of theirs:



I know that ever since I first saw it on TV at least a year ago I mocked it. "The tyranny of pegs"!

The absurdity!

But then tonight I realised that we are in fact under the tyranny of pegs!

It's not quite as absurd as it sounds ... although, that being said, I'm yet to experience the pegs all deciding to strike and just jump out of the container on the way to the washing line to hang out the washing (that would be absurd).

But I still have to listen to the wishes of the pegs if I want my washing to remaining hanging on the line. I can't buy those really cheap wooden pegs that seem to delight in letting your clean washing drop to the ground the minute your back is turned. And if you want your pegs to remain in good working order you have to bring them in out of the elements once your washing is dried (thankfully a demand the washing line doesn't make).

If you do risk incurring the wrath of your pegs by leaving them outside to the elements, you also run the very high risk of nasty spiders moving into them and making them their home and unfit to use to hang your washing (not to mention scary).

Ezyline is right. We are under the tyranny of pegs. So much so that we mock those who point it out to us.

Something's Wrong!

Can you spot what's wrong with this ad?



Apart from the obvious ... which is the little kid knowing why the bread is so good and better than the old bread there's something else that is wrong with this ad.

Maybe this will help;

Yeah, like a man (or a male giant loaf of bread) who wears socks and sandals would even have any hope of talking to, let alone having any kind of relationship with a woman except a horrible stereotypical she-nerd-geek.

But then again, going back to the point about the little kid and him not only knowing why the different loaf of bread was better for him, but also caring, maybe the "normal" looking woman in the ad is sercretly a horribly stereotypical she-nerd-geek but is fortunate enough to not look like one.

That's the only reason I can think of why the kid knows and cares about healthy food.

But more likely the woman is just a health nut who was smart enough to instil this into her kids right from the start.

South Australia is Full of Clothes Lines

Or so you would believe after watching the South Australian Tourism Commission ads.



Did you see all the different clothes lines?

There's at least five of them in that one minute ad.

And there's even more in the lates Tourism South Australia ad, but unfortunately I appear to lack the skills to track it down on Youtube. So we're just going to have to make do with this one ad.

But it's like the South Australia authorities wants everyone to know that South

Australia is home to the largest collection of clothes lines, much like Shepparton is home to the largest collection of model cows.

And you know that's exactly what people will want to see when going on Holidays; clothes lines ... hopefully they're Hills Hoists clothes lines since Adelaide is the home of Hills Hoist.

It can be a learning holiday for the family!

That'll be fun, going on a tour around the state learning all about the history of the Hills Hoist, because as we all know kids love learning about history. Especially when it's the history of something as mundane and uneventful as the good old clothes lines. Plus the parents can also have plenty of fun too.

The fun isn't just limited to the kids!

But all those clothes lines around the South Australian country side also serve another purpose. Yes, besides providing non stop excitement for the whole family, they can also be used to dry clothes on for families who are camping and need somewhere to hang their washing or just even wet towels after showering and/or swimming. And since there seems to be a clothes line in every possible location, finding one shouldn't be a problem.

Is there anything the humble clothes line can't do?

So next time you're planning your holiday don't forget about South Australia and their wonderful collection of clothes lines, which is quite possibly the largest in the world ... and is quite possibly more exciting than Shepparton's collection of cows. There's fun and excitement to be had by everyone!

Pet Discipline

In her DVD Kitty Flanagan talks about how young children aren't going to understand and see things through your (the parents) eyes when you sternly tell them off for doing wrong. And she's right. The child in question needs to hear "Bad, child! Bad! No desert for you tonight!"

The child has learned not to repeat that bad behaviour through cause and effect.

But that's nothing to some people who use the same "Let's try to reason with the animal when it does wrong" theory, like my housemate.

Whenever the dog something that annoys her and she wants to stop or even just pees on the floor, she asks him to stop because it's annoying and/or he shouldn't be doing. Or when he tries chasing the cats she asks him not to because "the cats don't like that," and she wants them all to get along ... although Josie is slowly teaching the dog to respect her and her personal space.

And there's a very good reason why the cat is making more headway in teaching the dog manners where the dog's owner is failing. The cat doesn't try politely asking the dog to stop because she doesn't like his behaviour. Instead Josie will hiss and use claws to make him see the error of his ways.

None of this "Please desist with your current behaviour, I find it very vexxing." crap.

I guess that's why the dog likes his owner over me and the other guy in the house. We don't try reasoning with the dog when he does something wrong in front of us. Instead he gets a "NO! Bad, dog!" and then gets put outside. Or in the couple of incidents when he came inside and peed on the carpet almost immediately, I rubbed his nose in it before putting him back outside.

Guess who his least favourite person in the house is now?

But guess who gets the best behaviour from the dog (so long as his owner isn't home, because then all bets are off and he ignores everyone)?

Why Are My Roof Handles in the Camel's Mouth?

Ok, so I get that companies like to think up new and unique ways of showing just how tough their product is. But generally these tough tests are done to the more extreme of whatever the product is likely to face once it is in the customer's hands.

That's why I'm confused about why one of the Roof Handles tough tests include being

chewed up by a camel.

When is a camel ever going to get the chance to eat your Roof Handles?

I mean, ok, I am a bit of city slicker as five year Flynn (not Finn!) so kindly pointed out to me over New Year's. But I do have some country blood in me and some experience in the country. Never did I once see a single camel running around on the roof of the farm houses, just looking for something to nibble on up there.

But then my country exprience is only limited to NSW and Victoria. Maybe the other states have a camel problem that is so bad that they even climb the roofs of houses.

It just seems to be a bit of a weird and very random test to include when testing the durability of a product.

The Monster Under the Bed is Still Very Real!

Last night the heating was left on a very high setting. That would be my fault since I was the last one to go to bed and completely forgot about turning down the heat settings (but that's what happens when the central heating system is completely silent).

So needless to say with the doona covering me it got very, very warm in bed last night. And when I woke up in the middle of the night I was very alarmed to find that my arm was hanging over the edge of the bed. I quickly pulled it back under the doona, to safety.

It was only then that I realised just how hot it was.

The heating needed to be turned down.

And yet I had no desire to leave my bed and turn it down. It's not like it was warm under the doona and the rest of the house was freezing cold. Thanks to the heating, the house was actually rather toasty warm.

No, my hesitation came from the fear of the monster under my bed. My arm had been dangling over the edge of my bed, tempting the thing, letting it know that I was easy prey.

The fact that the monster hadn't yet grabbed me and dragged me under the bed to its lair meant nothing. It was just waiting for the ideal time. Like, for instance, when I get out of bed to turn down the heating. Then it would have no problem grabbing my foot and dragging me down. It would be much harder for me to struggle free.

The fact that I outgrew this fear, that I know there is no monster under the bed meant nothing.

My arm had been there tempting it, acting like bait, and now it was very real and just waiting for its chance to get me.

Luckily, jumping off the bed towards the door was easy, and I was able to turn down the heating. Getting back into bed without entering the danger zone was a little more tricky; I'm still getting to know this house and it was completely black in my room. So my wild leap onto where I hope my bed was ended up being very awkward as I scrambled to make sure I was under my doona before the monster caught me.

Still, I did make it through the rest of the night without any sign of it, and now in the light of day I can laugh at my foolishness, hahaha!

The Rizzo's Sarmonella Outbreak Is the Work of the Devil Child

So I said that I'd keep an eye on any mysterious happenings around the area just in case the devil child from the train is up to something.

I think that I have noticed something;

It didn't click at the time when I was watching the news. But when I had some time to think about it, the whole affair smacks of the devil child and her evil work.

Rizzo's Pizza (the best pizza joint in Ballarat) made the news because of a sarmonella outbreak just before Christmas. I knew nothing of this until last night when the news report headlined Channel 10 News.

Admittedly, I haven't had Rizzo's Pizza for awhile, and Channel 10 News isn't exactly the most reliable news station around. But I was told that a friend read about it in the newspaper, which I can only assume is a little bit more reliable than 10 News.

Then there's also the fact that I live right around the corner from Rizzo's Pizza.

If this sarmonella outbreak really did happen, you'd think that I would've heard about it sooner than last night.

I don't think that the sarmonella outbreak really happened when they say it did. I think that the devil child has somehow tampered with time and caused this. Fortunately, she doesn't seem to be very good at changing history yet, so people are able to remember the original timeline as well as the new one she's created.

But it's only a matter of time until she gets powerful enough to successfully alter the past and our memories without us being aware of it.

This doesn't bode well.

Devil Child!

On the train home today there was totally a devil child sitting in front of me.

Sure she may have looked like any other innocent small child. But that's just what she wants to to believe.

She wants to lull you into a false sense of security.

And then she attacks!

She had me completely fooled until she looked me right in the eye (through my polarised sunnies) and started to sway in time to the music on my iPod.

At first I thought it might be some kind of bizarre coincidence. So I surreptitiously skipped forward to the next song.

She started swaying in time to that song instead. Only now she was staring at me.

I have no idea what she had in mind, what she was trying to do. I was just very happy that the train pulled into Ballan and the devil child and her family got off. I was also very glad that she was seated in front of me instead of behind. There's no telling what evil she would've wrought if my back was to her. But that being said, I would've very much liked to have been sitting on the opposite end of the train to her.

But now she's Ballan's problem. Not mine. Although I might keep an eye on the local news just to keep track of any mysterious and/or weird happenings in the area. After all, Ballan isn't that far away from Ballarat.

How to Quit Smoking

There are people who say that quitting smoking is nothing more than mind over matter.

And they're absolutely right!

In order to be able to quit and stay quitted you have to want to quit. It doesn't matter how many and what sort of crutches you use to quite, if you don't have the will to do so, you will fail and end up smoking again.

Of course there are many different method of quitting. But really the best way to encourage someone to quit is to send them off to somewhere cold. Most people tend not to smoke in their houses anymore, so the habit of not smoking inside should be there already. If the people do smoke inside, the smoking outside rule will have to be enforced ... but this shouldn't be a problem since it will making quitting seem like the more desirable option.

But think about it; there could totally be a quitting camp somewhere in the cold wilderness where people can go for the first few steps of quitting. I can't believe no one has thought of this sooner, actually.

If it's cold enough outside, a person will hold off smoking for as long as possible. The nicotine cravings may be bad, but being cold while smoking is worse. So if a person is holding off for longer periods of time between smoking, then that person will be smoking less during the day until gradually they have quit.

Unlike those warm nights where temperature is no problem for the smoker ... and is probably more comfortable outside than inside.

It's the perfect way to quit.

As well as fat camps, there should totally be quitting camps as well!

But of course, the desire to quit has to be there for this method to work. Otherwise the person will pick up smoking again as soon as he/she is back in warmer, more comfortable climes again.

And to make these quitting camps feasible, the people, or clients if you will, can get similar jobs to their normal jobs at home or just do work around the camp and earn money that way.

It has got to be cheaper, even if it is slower, than using those nicotine patches and whatever other nicotine products are out there.

Early Morning Energy

Most people fit into one of two groups; a morning person, capable of disgusting amounts of energy and cheerfulness at a horrible hour or not a morning person.

Guess which group I belong to.

Although, like just about everybody else, I have found a way to combat my morning drowsiness; a good strong cup of coffee or two in the morning ... seriously, the genious who invented coffee should become a saint. He/she can become the patron saint of the shiftworker, or anybody else who has to get up at odd and (usually) disgusting hours.

So naturally after my two very strong cups of coffee this morning I was feeling particuarly perky. Even if I did go a bit quiet on the train to Melbourne. But I perked right up again when we got to Sunshine, and while I was waiting for the train to pull up next to a platform at Southern Cross I had time to inspect the rest of the carriage;

Apart from a whispered conversation at the back, it was almost completely silent. Only a couple of other people besides me were stirring. Most were still sleeping.

And that's when it hit me;

I was the first out of my seat. I was the one bouncing excitedly on the balls of my feet. I was probably the one with the stupid cheerful grin plastered on my face.

I was one of them!

And by them I mean one of those disgustingly bright and cheerful morning people who everyone hates to be around until after mid morning (at the earliest).

I felt kind of indecent to be feeling so energetic.

At least things changed once I was off the train and mingled with the rest of the Melbournians who had already had their all important two cups* of morning coffee. The hustle and bustle of peak hour meant that being energetic and all that is a good thing. Not something to be ashamed of while on the train.

Still, it's not as bad as that time I merrily bounced into the servo at five am full of sickening cheerfulness and energy. I really did deserve the bleary eyed look f disgust from the other customers that day.


*two cups is just an estimated amount.

The Latest Schmackos Commercial

I would've really liked to have found the commercial on youtube. But after 30 minutes of searching and not being able to find it, I've been forced to concede defeat and that maybe I should've waited to watch the ad a second time on TV before trying to locate it online (since I didn't really pay too much attention the first time).

But we're all familiar with Roger and his woman, which is probably a good thing considering how little images of them I can find online at the moment.

The image of Roger (even if my suspicions about it are correct and it is fake) does kind of fit in with the latest Schmackos commercial I saw tonight.

The commercial starts off with that woman of his ordering take away. Seconds later her Noodle Box delivered along with some Schmackos for Roger, who is so excited by this that he magically creates a romantic dinner setting for him and his woman. The commercial ends with them enjoying a romantic dinner together - the woman lovingly hand feeding him little morsels of food across the table.

You see the reason why I didn't pay close to attention to what particular Schmackos product was being advertised don't you?

I was strongly reminded of Marjoe and Champers ... although, unlike Champers, Roger

seems just as into it as his woman.

So now I can't help but wonder if Schmackos is targeting people who love their dogs a little too much. Are these the only dog owners who buy schmackos for their dogs, while the rest buy another brand of dog treat.

I think that maybe after this particular commercial Schmackos sales are going to decline as people decide that they don't want people to think that they're into beastiality and buy another brand that doesn't imply they're into that shiz.

This is a commercial that was not at all well thought out when they came up with it.

How To Make Sure That the Tourists Don't Bother You

It's summer time, which means it's turo season.

Anyone who lives in a tourist hotspot will know just how annoying turos are, and wants nothing more for them to "piss off back home!"

That solution would make everyone much, much happier. But it's a well known fact that turos are selfish, inconsiderate bastards who are stupid beyond belief. So they're not going to make everyone's life easier by going back home. They're going to make everyone's life as miserable as possible and remain as turos for as long as possible.

So that leaves everyone else with the choice of putting up with the crowds of turos or becoming a hermit for the tourist season or packing up and going somewhere else and become a turo themselves.

Not the best choices.

But there's a way to fight back against the turos.

Actually there's a number of ways to fight back against them. Unfortunately, though, the most satisfying ways (like seeing who can get the most points mowing them down in the car) are a little bit illegal and will most likely land you in jail. And if you end up in jail the turo has won.

The best way to fight the turo while not breaking the law is by not showering and becoming very pungent. You can even take it a step further and put on some make up

that makes you look even more feral than you smell, and if you can blacken a couple of teeth you'd look very frightening to the turo, who'd make sure to get out of your way when you go out to do your day to day activities.

Imagine that; being able to walk around unhindered by turos in the height of tourist season! That's a win for you, the local.

And if you walk around carrying an empty beer can (since you'd get in trouble with a full can of beer), and talk like a loud ladette/ocka, you probably will only see the back of the turos when you're out.

However, there is one little drawback to this; your friends will probably won't want anything to do with you while you're being a smelly feral local.

But this is where the plan gets even better;

One smelly, feral local is good and all. But that won't really keep the turos away. They'll just be avoiding you. If you get all of your friends and family to do the same as you, and walk around in large, loud groups the turo should hopefully be scared away from ever visiting the town after a couple of seasons of this. And if the teenagers are given the summer job of hanging around in large groups near the turos faveorite places the turos will be scared away even faster, because we all know that the scariest thing in the world is a large, obnoxious group of teenagers.