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from October, 2007

Downe In Front

This is old content from my previous blog, EveryGoodBoyDeservesFruit.com. Check out the new stuff too.

Friday night the ladies and I headed out to thai dinner before seeing Ding Dong Downe, Bob Downe touring with Ding Dong Drysdale. It was hard enough working out where we were going to go, because everyone has right of veto. We waited for ages for our meals to arrive, and eventually we had to abandon ship if we were to make it to the show. I went up to the counter and the apologetic woman said immediately “It’s coming now!” I told her the game was up and she had to wrap them in a container. It had already been about an hour at this point, and it actually took another 10 minutes for them to get the meals ready for us to take leaving us with only a matter of minutes to jog to the theatre.

When the curtain went up I was pleasantly surprised to see Jelly’s brother on drums because Jelly hadn’t mentioned anything to me at all. The show was great, typical Bob and Ding Dong ran herself to the floor (literally) to entertain. She even copped a grope from some creep in the third row whilst doing her triple summersaults. Once again our home town showed we are a bunch of dumb neaderthals and have serious rhythm impediments when it comes to clapping.

I had to get up early Saturday to work overtime, but it was good money (though I’m not sure exactly how much yet) to sit there for five hours and listen to my iPod. Oh, and the work too, but I was completely undisturbed for the whole five hours. I think I was located in the area I’m to be moved to at the end of this week. A real desk and a real phone and real drawers! I can’t wait!

I got the new Mac OSX (nicknamed Leopard) on Friday and had a play around over the weekend. The new synthesized voice is pretty impressive. As I fiddled I made it read out the time on the hour. I accidently left it on, and it has been scaring the crap out of me ever since. Overall, the huge changes to the OS pale next to the small but perfect modifications with things such as QuickLook. I also upgraded my hacked iPhone to the newest firmware, just because I can.

The rest of the weekend has been fairly lazy as I adjust to the daylight savings (at one point I was two hours ahead by mistake) and readying my DipEd application. Though it must be told that someone desperately does not want me to become a teacher. I’ve had so many obstacles. The latest is the Department of Education being completely unhelpful with regards to my inaccurate academic requirements assessment. Apparently a degree in music isn’t enough to teach it, though I know my degree has been fine for previous applicants. It’s now with a ‘senior’, though no amount of emails or phone calls can persuade them to action is a little more quickly, considering my DipEd application is due on Wednesday and I need this letter. Well, it took them 3 months to send out the first letter, who’s going to rush them?

No Responses to “Downe In Front”

  1. Kevin says:

    So, you’ve reached the level of bureaucracy where they change the rules on you while you are buzzing down the career path of your choice – trust me, this won’t be the last time. Wait till you get to the “setting you up for a fall because you’re smarter than the people who employ you” level. That one will need more than a Bex and a good lie down.

  2. steph says:

    You have a voice that tells you the time? You ARE the Supernerd! Go and get a cape with a big S on it immediately!

  3. Tyson says:

    Kevin – As long as you’re not the person doing the employing, I guess.

    Steph – When your screen goes blank or the letter ‘f’ stops working on your keyboard, who ya gonna call?

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Major Ass

This is old content from my previous blog, EveryGoodBoyDeservesFruit.com. Check out the new stuff too.

I have a family member in the Army reserves. If you think Scouts are mentally unstable (and you should), they are nothing next to the freaking lunatics that run our defence force.

Today I received a rather stern phone call during which the caller identified himself as Sergeant Donner. Except he spelt it out. Spelling ‘sergeant’ as “S. G. T.” Rather than asking if I had to time to answer his ridiculous series of questions asked in a faux-official manner (put-on deep voice and always calling me ‘Sir’), he simply barraged on to the point of absurdity. He was asking about the make and model of our cars and often said things like “Thank you sir, I’m making a note of that for future reference.”

He asked what my army relative looked like as he wasn’t sure he could place the face. As a joke I replied, “he has cropped hair.” This went well and truly over this guy’s head. He then asked if he had ever been to and I said “Perhaps.” To which he responded with the perfect punchline “Oh yes, I think I know him now”, except he really meant it.

That said, at least Army guys don’t wear toggles or woggles or whatever the hell those sweat-shop made knobs of crap are.

No Responses to “Major Ass”

  1. Kevin says:

    They don’t call army intelligence an oxymoron for nothing – you now have living proof.

  2. James says:

    Love the pic with Mark T. I’m catching up with him on Monday.

  3. Brett says:

    I’ll have you know Mr that not all people who have been in Scouts are mentally unstable……….I think my brother turned out alright!!

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Acting Up

This is old content from my previous blog, EveryGoodBoyDeservesFruit.com. Check out the new stuff too.

I’m home from a weekend of children’s theatre. This is my ninth year with the group and it made me think of all the people who have been involved at one time or another. Oddly enough there are still some kids in the group who were in it when I was performing on stage at the age of fourteen. Others have long moved on, but you usually see them coming back to watch the latest show. It’s also great to see some of the young ones in the orchestra pit, because doing that was my start into the music side of things. The two young girls, Leah and Meg even bought us some Cold Rock gift vouchers. Can’t argue with that!

I’ve barely been home all weekend so things are a shambles here. Clothes and used bowls of food were everywhere this morning, very much unlike me. I did fix up the bad stuff this morning, but my floor is still a little messy. As so perfectly put in Seinfeld, I need that downtime on a Sunday night to get my things organised for the week. A bit of calm before the storm again.

As the school certificate nears, the three boys I tutor in maths are having lessons every week and I’m quickly running out of time. At work I’m supposed to be starting on helping out with the insurance processing team tomorrow after “showing an interest”. I don’t know how long I’ll be doing that for and when if I’ll be back with the usual maintenance group, but I know that I am still not getting a real desk with a phone and a bin and a set of drawers. Because they are out of room, they’ve put us new people in “the sweatshop” (so called because the air conditioning doesn’t work).

One concern is that I’ll be sitting next to the loud talker. You know the type. While everyone else is pretty quiet, this woman tries to maintain a conversation all day, usually about her daughter or one of her sisters, or one of her many holidays or jobs in the past. Already in the 7 working days we’re beginning to hear stories for the second time. I’m quite the opposite, I’d prefer to sit in piece and quiet so I can think about my own things and focus on getting the work right.

I started to think about a strategy I might take if she tries to maintain a conversation with me. I’m thinking I’ll stick to one word answers and avoid eye contact. I have nothing against the woman at all, but there’s a time for conversation and there’s a time to enjoy silence.

No Responses to “Acting Up”

  1. Kevin says:

    It’s good to see that your hectic schedule throughout the year is being maintained at an appropriate level. It’s good to keep the synapses jumping.

    As for your unfortunate loud talker, I know someone exactly the same, although he has a tendency to talk about nothing rather than anything of interest. I believe grunting every now and then or taking a directly opposite side to any discussion with these people works – for a last resort, pretend you are from Barcelona. Ce?

  2. ^ So the conversation could go like this then:

    She: Where you going?

    Tyson: Barcelona.

    She: Oh.

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