Easy targets

Ooo, look at it, it's my first post of (gack) 2K3. Happy New Year to those readers in, in alphabetical order for no good reason, Australia, Canada, the Czech Republic, Spain, and Wellington. Apologies to a few people as well for whom the following may prove overly esoteric (Coe's Ford, for example, is not Sebastian's car). Complaints have been received; I almost decided to not update just to annoy people (who posts in another man's blog? Good lord Tim, I'll have your hide) but I decided a better kick off to the year in blogs was to insult a few of my friends. So here we go:

1) Simon (or more accurately probably, his marketing people), who seems to have fallen for the phrase 'in touch with today's youth'. See here. You may need to refresh it a few times, but I quote:

Sarah and I had tickets to J.Lo on Friday night.(J. Lo! Super keen!) She was going to pick me up on the corner outside work. I looked outside the window at about three, and it was pouring down! (I was so surprised I could barely restrict myself to just one exclamation mark!!!) So I email Sarah saying how tragic it would be if I showed up with frizzy hair (this bit mocks itself. No further effort is required on my part) and how we should meet at the pizza place instead. (The pizza place is somehow more waterproof. Sarah was clearly going to pick her up on her bicycle.) I was just heading out when I suddenly thought, "What if Sarah didn't check her email?" (My God! If she doesn't check her email, she won't notice it's raining!) I raced back in - she didn't read it! (I began hyperventilating!) I can't use the work phone, (as my IQ score means I am not allowed near important office equipment)so I called her mobile from a payphone outside (taking great care to avoid the frizzy hair scenario. Thankfully, the journey from building to phone box proved less wet that the one from building to car would surely have done!!!!!!!!) I was like, "Why didn't you check your mail?" and she was like "My geek brother was playing some game on the computer!" (...and I was like: who wrote this?) That was close. (We are talking frizzy hair here people. Thank Britney for Message Tag!) We wound up having a huge night!(I forgot my name and spent the night in detox!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Dear oh dear oh dear Si. Not to worry though, I'm sure the story will prove a hit with the hip young, er, ditzes. Not so sure about pushing a web application and referring to the 'geek brother' though, you might be alienating your client base a bit there, not to mention betraying your origins. For shame sir, for shame. However, as a non-driver I care not a fig for the fact that your car is automatic, and refuse to join the chorus of condemnation. instead: new car, nice work.

2) Tim: Accuse me of not updating, will you? Fair enough I suppose, but you're doing heaps of updating, and why? Because you're procrastinating and procrastinating and procrastinating, in a last desparate fashion. Don't deny it, you poor bastard, (Nice work on sticking it to The Man though.) you posted in MY blog, you're so avoiding your thesis. Anyway, aren't we past that whole "Moob, (another required dictionary addition Si), I updated faster than you, ya boo sucks" thing? I would have thought that we'd all be mature enough now, except perhaps for:

3) Warwick. "Masta Updata" (sic) indeed. Sleep with one eye open, lest all 20 volumes of the print version of the Complete Oxford English Dictionary fall unexpectedly onto your head from a suitable height. Nice Counterstrike poem though (possibly the world's first...actually maybe Walt Whitman wrote one).

4) Nic - chooses to pass up Coe's Ford for no discernible reason, save "...getting a good night's sleep." Excuse me? See previous rants on this subject, and remember the James Bond villain stole the line from me. Good work to Teena and Adam for ignoring the sensible option and making their first Pilgrammage. They have earned their place in Valhalla. Unlike some people. Some credit earned though by Mr Mason through participation in drunken shenanigans with young hoons last night. Fear the Brothers Allan, they are a Troika of Power.

Time for a lift home, I think. But first, I'd just like to give big ups to ME, firstly for that fulminating right foot screamer into the top corner from waist height yesterday (shame that the other 99 percent of the game was spent running around totally ineffectually getting bruised) and also for remembering and proving even while drunk and in the face of widespread disbelief that:

Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player
Who struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot
Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

...is from Macbeth. Haha, I wave my otherwise useless English degree in your very faces, you pretenders.
Right, bitching done, very cathartic. To the Nicmobile. (Dalalalaladadadaaaaaaaa!!!)

Oh, and this is strange. But kind of handy.