olilolo blog

Greetings, fellow space-cadets.

I feel it necessary to share with all of you the marvel of the product that I found this morning at my local convenience store.

Yes, you read correctly, they are Chinese wafer-tube-biscuits called “Gookie”.

In case you missed the brand on the (already amusing) aforementioned packaging:

I think I speak for most of the global English-speaking marketplace when I exclaim in self-righteous indignation, “What the crap were they thinking? Was the marketing manager of this company on crack, or just criminally insane!?”

I will leave that up to you, dear Reader, to decide.

(they were delicious, by the way)

Wouldn’t like to meet some of these people in a dark room (especially this one… <shudder>)

- and -

CRAZY NINJA CATS! You’ve probably seen them before (especially Doyle, since he’s already posted one of the pics), but I thought the rest of the pics deserved a place on the blog too. They’re, like, sooo cute. Do you think that in the ones where the kitties are jumping off the wall, that the person taking the photos threw them? Also, note the boner in the last pic. WTF???

I find that the majority of people of my generation really don’t appreciate cream that much. To most of us, cream is something that comes out of an aerosol can or something that gets mixed with ice to form icecream. Whipped cream is a little bit ‘out there’, and don’t even THINK about having cream other than very, very occasionally for a special event.

However, I have recently come to the discovery that cream is good. Very, very deliciously gnarmmmm…slobber good.

All this came about after I visited the local shop in search of milk. Now a good milk is hard to find (and a hard milk is good to find) but good milk I have found, and at my local shop, no less. It is Cooloola (or something) milk, proportedly comes from Jersey cows, and is unhomogenised (for the uninitiated, this means that the cream is NOT mixed in with the milk, like regular milk, so you get a thin layer of cream on the top). All of this adds up to make the milk delicious to my discerning pallette. Today, however, I spotted Cooloola Jersey Cream next to the milk. I thought “Why not? I’ve always found cream to be reasonably appetising.” So I bought the cream. This turned out to be an investment in my childrens’ future (read: a good idea).

Now I’m sure that I’m going to regret this move in years to come, after an unfortunate collision with my arch-nemesis “Hartd Des Seas” (translation: heart disease). That said, today I’m living in creamy, creamy bliss. Cream is good for many things. You can have it in coffee instead of milk. In Baileys-and-milk instead of milk. On cereal instead of milk. With chocolate cake. With chicken and apricot sauce. Mixed with icing sugar (drool). As you can see, cream clearly has a plethora of uses.

Also, there are uses that are not so traditional. For example, pouring it on yourself while naked and in a drunken stupor. Leaving it in the sun for a day or so, then pouring it on unsuspecting passers-by. Leaving it as a joke in a friends hubcap. Rubbing it on your nipples and pretending you’re a cow. The list goes on.

All I ask of you, friends, is next time you’re walking past the cream aisle in the supermarket (yes, some supermarkets do indeed have an entire aisle dedicated to cream), spare a thought for the poor Ethiopian children who will never get to sample its goodness. You OWE it to them to use and abuse it, as often as you can.

Well, I have nothing of interest to report. Except that it’s hot. But you already knew that, right?

I do, however, have a link. A link that I liked and I hope that you will also like.

http://feedback.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll
?ViewFeedbackMemberLeft&memberid=andy46477
&items=25&page=9&frompage=-1&iid=-1&de=off

There it is.

I am such a man.

After having frolicked with the dolphins…

Yes. Today I had a much needed although unexpected (fucken work) day off. I put off going out for as long as possible (by using the excuse that I had to stay home and listen to Stuart read the news), as today was ridiculously hot, and mum has air conditioning.

In a nutshell (so as to not go all livejournal on y’all), I went to David Jones to return a faulty appliance and then subsequently went to buy the fifth book in Raymond E. Feist series of series of stories ($7 SCOOOORE! – awesome author). Then I returned home to the safety and comfort of the air-conditoning.

I decided tonight to go and just double check that my car has its twin necessary life-bloods of oil and water. I opened up the bonnet to find that the battery has come adrift of its moorings and lodged itself in the fan. Now, I don’t think this is too bad a thing as I suspect the fan was still spinning (evidenced by the shortened length of the blades). HOWEVER, the fan has significantly chewed through the red active wire coming from the battery.

This is not a good thing. It makes the car more susceptible to starting fires.

The upshot of this is, if I want the car to keep working, and not fail catastrophically while I’m driving it, I need to get it serviced, like, NOW. Unfortunately, as my next day off is not for a week, I must wait until then to put it in, unless alternative arrangements can be made.

It’s not going to stop me from driving it though. I think I’ll just have to take it a little easy around the corners.

… What’s with all the sea creatures!?

Update: Car didn’t start this morning. Very pissed off.

Heh, not like that you sicko. Yesterday, after many restless seconds of waiting, dreaming, scrimping and careful consideration, I finally lashed out and bought myself an MP3 player. Yes, I am that wanker you see on the train with the earphones and the stupid remote control dangling from the cord listening to that ridiculous boom-tss music.

In my view, this is the classiest MP3 player ever. It provides a spacious 256MB (around 65 songs-worth) and includes an FM radio and voice recorder, as well as an MMC slot for memory expansion (too bad the MMC cards costs more than the actual player). It also came with a weirdly stiff plastic wrist strap and crappy set of budphones which has the aforementioned (very plastic) remote on the cord.

And what would you expect pay for this masterpiece? $400? Nowhere near. $200? Cheaper. $3.95? Now you’re just being stupid. No, this entire package – the player, crappy wrist strap and budphones for only $48!

Unfortunately, it has the effect of making you look vaguely menacing to all of the other patrons on the train (damn hoodlums and their MP3 players), as well as turning you into more of a target for mugging (hah! joke’s on them) and assult. It also makes you less friendly. People who I may once have stopped to have a chat with (for example someone who I saw today who I went to school with and haven’t spoken to since), pale into insignificance. No way I’m taking out my earphones to listen to your shit, buddy.

I am soo cool.

This is an actual business card.

I laughed.

Yes, that’s right. Fantasy indeed. And no, I’m not talking about the sexual type (although that type is good, too). I’m referring to the fantasy genre of books.

A few weeks ago, Peter C (olilolo.com-group-outlier) lent me the book Magician by Raymond E. Feist. Now, most of the rest of the olilolo.com gang has been extolling the vertues of this genre and author for years, but having been burnt by Tolkien (shudder), I shunned their suggestion. To Doyle and Stu, I offer my sincerest apologies. I was wrong – this series is awesome and the genre isn’t shit by default. I suppose it’s just hard to do well.

So far, I’ve read the first book (Magician), almost finished the second (Silverthorn), and have the third book (can’t remember the name) ready to go. It’s good, too, cause there’s still 12-or-so(!) books left in the series. They definately provide a relaxing escape from the humdrum of public transport and stinky public transport patrons. I recommend them to anyone. DON’T LEAVE IT TOO LATE!!

In other yet-to-be-blogged news, I moved back to Brisbane a month or so ago to be with the gang and my family, and have a new retail-type job in the city. I’ve been there several weeks now and I’m liking it so far. Don’t know yet whether it’ll be a long-term thing or what. I guess we’ll see.

And when I say crazy, I mean absolutely fucking nuts. No indicators, travelling at high speeds and cutting across in front of you for no reason, going 70km/h in a 60 zone while being 3 metres from your back bumper.

This one time, I was quietly going along at the speed limit (70, if I recall correctly) and this car pulls out from behind me, speeds round me, cuts in front of me (without using any indicators), abruptly breaks and turns into a driveway. WTF?!? Why!?

Another time, I was being tailgated by a city bus at 80km/h.

The friend who I’m staying with works for an insurance company as the person who fills in and files the claim when you have an accident (she says that she generally only takes Melbourne calls) and she told me some shockers.

Today, she filed a claim for a woman in her late 70s, who was pushed into an intersection and who narrowly avoided being cleaned up by a bus, by a truck who 1. didn’t noticed that the car ahead of him in his lane was stopped, 2. didn’t notice the stop light the car was stopped at, and 3. didn’t attempt to brake at all. What the fuck was he doing? Was he in the back of the truck smoking copious quantities of marijuana and cackling maniacally? Jesus.

Apparantly, Victorians have the highest rate of car-pedestrian accidents in the country. By far. With the way these freaks drive, this does not surprise me one bit.

Anyway, must go now. Sliders (that old-school 90s b-grade sci-fi series) is on Foxtel! w007