A Big Toothy Grin from Ear to Ear...

The Missus is a Blues supporter. Ever since the team for the second game was announced she's been a little morose, but today that feeling was replaced by puzzlement and rage. All of this was brought about by Timana Tahu's shock exit from the Blues training camp. All of this madness can be traced back to Andrew 'Joey' Johns.

Apparently Joey launched into some weird racial tirade that caused Tahu to give the Blues the proverbial middle finger and flee. The Missus is not impressed. "I just can't believe it," she moaned. "The Blues are their own worst enemy."

Which is true enough. The Blues have made some baffling moves for the second game - a deciding game no less. First of all they named a twenty-one (21) man squad - a first - and then whittled that down to the conventional seventeen (17). They're captain, the confused man-child, Kurt Gidley, is starting off the bench. The Blues have also decided to drop one of their most effective players from Game One, Jamal Idris. Instead they have recruited Trent Barret and Paul Gallen, obviously a couple of blunt instruments intended to inflict some sort of under-handed damage to the Maroons.

Bizarre choices for a desperate team that seems to be imploding. And so, The Missus is stunned by the absolute recklessness of the dim-wits pulling the strings of the Blues. But as a Maroons lad through and through, all I can do is sport a big toothy grin from ear to ear...

They Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time...

Cars. I'm sure they seemed like a good idea at the time. But did Karl Benz or Henry Ford ever have to sell one of the bastards and then buy another? I'm sure if they did have to endure the absolute pain and humiliation of buying and selling a second hand car they might thought twice about unleashing the automobile plague upon the world.

We've spent the last two weeks wheeling and dealing. Selling the ute privately was a nightmare that not even Freddy Krueger would inflict upon some promiscuous teen. We had to run from one end of the city to the other for meetings, inspections, mechanics and all manner of legal paperwork. In the end we settled on a price out of exhaustion and frustration.

It was a hideous experience but there were still perrils to be dealt with: Used Car Dealers. After trudging through half a dozen car lots I learnt one phrase: money talks, bullshit walks. I still can't tell whether I was the money or bullshit.

The Used Car Salesmen Caricatures that we encountered lived up to their stereotype. They were crooked as a pit of snakes and about as easy to nail down. After finally romping through the savages and sorting the duds from from those kept together by gaffer tape and bubble gum, we settled on a car.

It was green, but I was determined not to hold that fact against it. The thing didn't rattle, smoke, squeak or crumble. There was no rust, dents or corrosion. It seemed to work. Just to rattle the dealer I popped the hood and 'Ummed' and 'Ahhed'. We had this bloke where we wanted him: in retreat on the price.

It worked. We put the screws in him and were sitting pretty. We had managed to come out of the entire experience generally depleted but unscathed. Now we have a car to put the Little Miss in when she's born, which is another story altogether...

A Peculiar Contradiction...

The days are slow, hobbling along like a three-legged dog with lupus. Everything is happening, but nothing is happening at the same time; a peculiar contradiction. These are strange times, that's for sure. It's four (4) days out from the due date for Little Miss and I feel no fear or trepidation, only an all consuming anxiety deep in my marrow.

Charlie's room is decked out: lock, stock, the fucking lot. There is a sickening amount of pink and most of the furniture came with obscure instructions, or none at all.

Hopefully the next time I have something to gibber on about I'll be a Daddy. I've never been a patient man and I don't think I ever will be.