Yes, the true key to success with women has been charted in vague and teasing fashion, and I am happy to peel back the layers of fog and expose the sordid truth. Enjoy yourself!
Step by Step - New Kids On The Block
and what they really meant...
(Chorus)
Step one
We can have lots of fun (Getting high on stolen horse tranquillizers)
Step two
There's so much we can do (Screwdriver + lack of intelligent ideas + pee hole)
Step three
Its just you and me (And peanut butter, the family dog and an audience of thousands. Wave to the camera baby!)
Step four
I can give you more (I've soiled myself and it is now your life-long duty to change me)
Step five
Don't you know that the time has arrived (To sheepishly admit giving you Hepatitis C!)
It's so obvious.
Monday 21 July 2008
Tuesday 15 July 2008
How would your funeral go down?
Seriously, would your funeral be yet another dull, painful affair that you yourself would arrange to have cancelled on your behalf? Not me. I read with much joy my mate Sim's own funeral plans over on her blog - Don't Step On The Mome Raths (see the link at the side of this page), where her appeal to her friends and family for a fun and memorable funeral was made. I liked what I read and it also appealed to me due to a number of thoughts I've had over the years re my own eventual demise.
I'm not one for religion, solomn affairs or everyone dressed in black. I'm also quite nervous about the idea that potentially I might be buried when my mind has yet to cease functioning. I blame YOU, Jeff Bridges!
So how's it going to go down?
My plain iron bark coffin, held together by rusty nails and draped with both the Aboriginal and South Sydney Rabbitohs flags will sit outdoors, even if the weather gods are performing a teary 20 cannon salute, and all whilst the funeral party kicks off complete with kegs, pizza and goanna.
No priest. No religious iconography or music.
I will have my eulogy read in a very serious tone by a person doing their best to hold their dignity in check - in a Batman costume (Yes, that would be you, Rod).
Everyone will either wear Hawaiian shirts or Souths jerseys.
No flowers. Fruit would be nice though. Or maybe a bonsai tree.
In times past I have considered that maybe I should cover all the bases, by maybe having A catholic Priest, some druids, a viking funeral at sea, monks and some Indian holy men, but screw all of that. If there's anything on the other side (which I highly doubt) it is they who will need the insurance when I arrive, because there's more than a few bones that will need to be picked before I unpack my bags.
I've thought in the past that perhaps being buried with an oxygen tank, mask, torch, batteries, phone, 7ft aerial, saw, food, water and drill might be a good idea. After all, there is a valid and creepy reason for there being such a term as "saved by the bell."
I'm still working on what music I'd like played, but for the final tune as my coffin is lowered I would like the one that goes "na na na-na, hey hey hey, goooodbye!!!"
Kegs on. A band at the after party.
I'm not one for religion, solomn affairs or everyone dressed in black. I'm also quite nervous about the idea that potentially I might be buried when my mind has yet to cease functioning. I blame YOU, Jeff Bridges!
So how's it going to go down?
My plain iron bark coffin, held together by rusty nails and draped with both the Aboriginal and South Sydney Rabbitohs flags will sit outdoors, even if the weather gods are performing a teary 20 cannon salute, and all whilst the funeral party kicks off complete with kegs, pizza and goanna.
No priest. No religious iconography or music.
I will have my eulogy read in a very serious tone by a person doing their best to hold their dignity in check - in a Batman costume (Yes, that would be you, Rod).
Everyone will either wear Hawaiian shirts or Souths jerseys.
No flowers. Fruit would be nice though. Or maybe a bonsai tree.
In times past I have considered that maybe I should cover all the bases, by maybe having A catholic Priest, some druids, a viking funeral at sea, monks and some Indian holy men, but screw all of that. If there's anything on the other side (which I highly doubt) it is they who will need the insurance when I arrive, because there's more than a few bones that will need to be picked before I unpack my bags.
I've thought in the past that perhaps being buried with an oxygen tank, mask, torch, batteries, phone, 7ft aerial, saw, food, water and drill might be a good idea. After all, there is a valid and creepy reason for there being such a term as "saved by the bell."
I'm still working on what music I'd like played, but for the final tune as my coffin is lowered I would like the one that goes "na na na-na, hey hey hey, goooodbye!!!"
Kegs on. A band at the after party.
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