Football Nostalgia

Today I did something that I haven't done since I was 12. I went to a AFL game. Shock. Horror.

Looking back, I have to laugh at the reasons as to why I attended a game bi-monthly when I found the sport so mind numbing. First and foremost, I went fo the food. Pies, chocolate, doughnuts and coca-cola. All the food I was never allowed to eat whilst around my mum suddenly was avaliable in excess inside the walls of the MCG.

Secondly, I attended for the colouful characters who attended and the wonderful variety of words that spewed forth from their mouths. I learnt most of my current vocabulary from such superb masters of the "French" language. I distinctly remember one chappy who, after glancing at me, called Gavin Wanganeen a crabmuncher and I have yet to work out how that was a insult.

Thridly, it let me have bonding time with my Dad. Which wasn't much of a highlight seeing as we hung out all the time at home anyways.

As a child I could never apreciate the game of ALF, let alone understand it. Watching it today I found I could at least apreciate the athletic skill and the disapointment of losing (Essendon lost by 16 points to Adelaide). I still don't understand the rules.

The Story of Arnold the Fish

Once upon a time there lived a small trout named Arnold. Whilst many of the other trout found Arnolds size a laughing matter, Arnold was never phased by his diminutiveness and was one of the most vocal, confident fish in the river.

Last monday, Arnold found a tiny worm floating in the reeds. Worms were Arnolds favorite thing to eat, so he quickly swam over to gobble it up. Just as he was about to swallow the poor worm he hear a voice yell "Stop!"

Arnold looked down at the worm. Surely it had not said anything. The worm looked up at Arnold and said "Thank you! It might have been the last thing you'd have done."
Arnold eyed the worm curiously. The worm took this as a sign to keep on talking, "See, I'm attached to this hook, which is attached to this line, wish is attached to a pole, which is attached to a bear. And if you bite me, the hook will get stuck in your mouth and the bear will pull you in and eat you. Not to mention I'll die also."

The worm stared up at Arnold, hpoing that he would see reason.
Arnold looked down at the worm before gobbling him up in one bite, which in turn prompted the bear at the other end of the fishing rod to reel him in and eat him for his supper.

The moral of this story? Trout are stupid and don't understand a word of english.

I've got a feeling...

It's days like this that you wish it was raining. Absolutly bucketing down. Of course, this all depends on your opinion of rain, storms and other cold weather related... err... well, weather. If you prefer hot, balmy days, then this is hardly the line of thought I'd expect you to be thinking. But, frankly (Don't cut the wood!), hot weather makes me miserable. All of that heat and sweat just makes me cringe. But not nearly as much as the half/half days. You know, where its cold outside, but it looks hot? Or when it's hot in the morning and cold in the afternoon? Those days are the worst. Which is what todays weather was like. I suppose it's a side effect of bing in a drought. Possibly even the main effect. I don't like it.