Despite the risk of inciting Stuey’s anger (again) for going all ‘live journal’, I present here to you my beloved reader the events of my weekend.

On Friday we had our “Cortex Christmas Party”. Bascially it was another Christmas party the company paid for, but just for head office employees. I assume the stores did their own thing as well, but maybe our bosses were wankers.

We’d booked a spot to play barefoot bowls at the Merthyr Bowls club at New Farm, right on the river. We rocked up and it instantly started spitting. “Fuck me we just got here” I said staring wild eyed at the clouds. Luckily it quickly dissapated, my work mates stopped shying away from me and we started the bowls.

Above: Merthyr Bowls Club. Random Photo from Random Site.

In good company spirit (pun intended, fully embraced and flogged for all its worth) there was a bar tab and I started setting about drinking my fair share of it. After no breakfast and it being before lunch I was starting to stumble a little bit after a few beers. After a few more I was encouraging everyone to sing Christmas carols (and sucessfully got a few lines out of them before we realised no one knows the bloody words to any). A few more after that I was having the time of my life!!! I remember having two brain fucking realisations. 1) I have feet (I only noticed while my eyes were transfixed upon them) and 2) the water in the bottom of some toilets looks like a map of Tasmania. Both brought fits of giggles as I tried to calm my excitment.

Unfortunately not everyone was having a good time. The HR manager was acting like she had just had some small and furry lodged deep inside her and it was causing constant ittitation. I’m an expert you know.

Before the last Christmas party she sent around emails strictly detailing how sexual harrassment cases go through the roof after such events and how everyone had to be on their best behaviour, and was basically sucking the fun out of it before it’d even started. The second she left a cheer was nearly let out. Everyone started smiling more and joking around more coarsely. We (blokes and girls) dicussed for a good hour how we were all gonna go to a ‘Titty bar”, but it didn’t eventuate. Whenever anyone made a sexually explicit comment everyone said “Woah, settle down there. That’s sexual harrassment. Watch it *HR Manager* might be around. You’re in trouble now”. I’m not 100% sure whether anyone there actually likes her… if they do I am so fired. Win!

Eventually after copious amounts of drinks, the drunks who were left (there was about 9 of us) and the nice boss went out to the valley to play pool. He was drunk but drove some of us. I luckily went with a sober driver. It was nice but I really can’t play pool drunk and the nice boss bought us drinks, before his wife yelled down the phone at him and picked him up, so my ‘skillz’ were getting worse.

Realising I had no idea where I was, I rang Yongas at 6 and with the vague directions of “I’m on Brunswick Street and I’m playing pool” he found me and we departed for home. That was of course after some interesting Kebabs (half beef, half chicken) and baclava (drool). I had the worst hang over by 7.30… 7-f*ing-30!!! I have never gotten hung over by stopping drinking. My god it burned so bad. I had the worst headache and I made sure everyone knew about it. In future I’m going to drink till I drop.

*sleep*

I woke up Saturday morning feeling relatively chipper and headed up to Garden City with Yongas and Court to do some Christmas shopping. I didn’t really have much to do. I only had Amy and Mickey really to buy for but I couldn’t find what I wanted for either and apparently you can’t buy 4 month year olds anything fun. Its too violent. He’s too small. He might choke. Babies don’t drink vodka. Pfft!

When I was there I bought myself a present. Being generally disapointed with my presents in the past few years, I decided why bitch about it when I can just buy myself something I wanted. Conequently I have this wrapped under the tree:

Above: Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots

Unfortunately Mattel in their “remake” shrunk the robots to half their original size. Damn corporations!

This blog post shall be completed in part 2 shortly.

Recommended Link: If these words were people, I would embrace their genocide – Maddox’s, of The Best Page in the Universe fame, article about how much he despises blogs and all internet creations vaguely like them. He’s an angry, but amusing man

The work Christmas party was on last night.

A few boring descriptions: The pharmacy group I am a part of has 9 pharmacies and head office. The idea was each table had its own dress up ‘theme’. The theme’s were Mash for Bli Bli, Pirates for McWirters and Wynnum, 70′s for Chermside, a day at the races for Acacia, and Austin Powers for Aspley. Some of the costumes were really quite good. The mash group had a massive camoflague tent over their tables and the pirates had some pretty impressive look booty as a centrepiece. Also some of the costumes were gold. Someone came as a horse (Acacia), the austin powers outfits were really good (Dr Evil, Fat Bastard, Fembots, and Austin) and oen fo the pharmacists came in full expensive looking pirate garb.

Back to the story: Originally our theme was ‘famous people’ (after narrowly beating out my suggestion of ‘homesless people’), but after a mutiny by the accounts ladies the theme got changed to hippies. We had a bong as our centrepiece with dry ice in the centre so ‘smoke’ was flowing from it… unfortunately I thought the party was next weekend. So when I learnt it was a week sooner I freaked out over my costume.

What the fuck am I going to do for this??!?! Most hippy clothes aren’t even sold in op shops. Hippies have a tendancy to wear things to the bitter end so by the time St Vinnies gets it they’re cut up for wash rags.

Anyway we decided to do our own tie dye. We’ve never done it before and we thought it could be kinda cool. Result:

Pic of us in costumes.

I think it worked out pretty damn well. Court’s looks great!

So we headed off to the party chanting animal rights songs and hugging the homeless. One guy tried to make fun of us but with a quick jab to the throat he was down. I swooped in and picked him up by his shoulders and smashed him in the face a few times…

“Violence” *crunch* “is” *smash* “not” *aaa punch cough* “the” *snap* “answer!!!”….. *whimper… mummy!*

We rocked up about 7 and headed to our table. I tried a bit of small talk with a few people. Costumes are always a great subject of conversation (which is why dress up parties are always more social). I met a few people I knew by name and voice (from the phone) but hadn’t met before. We then sat down and listened to the proceedings and shortly after got some dinner. It was a little basic but nice (meat patties, snags, chicken skewers, prawns, salad etc) and the alcohol was free. During dinner one girl came up to me and said… “Are you Aaron?”… Uhhh yeah… “Oh hi I’m *name*, you are so organised. You are the most organised person ever. We’re so glad you came to the company. You are so organised. He’s so organised. Well I’ll be back”. That was the last I saw of her. This was about 8… she was smashed after an hour. Wow…. I’m impressed. This is going to be a good night!

Above: Random costumes and drunken louts.

Awards were then presented and a christmas pagent was performed, with audience members being unwillingly co-opted into playing parts. I was the reindeer Prancer (as apparently I’m delicate and dainty). With this completed I went back to my seat and settled in for some serious drinking.

At about 9.45 I was chatting to one of the couriers I see every day. Really nice bloke. The kind of guy I would associate with outside of work (if I wasn’t so lazy and if he didn’t live so far away). Suddenly some liquid was thrown across my lap and table. What the fuck?!?! I looked closer and realised it was vomit. Courtney had explosively vomited all over me, herself and the table without even an ‘I’m going to be sick’. I excused myself from the conversation, at which time he noticed the vomit and said he’d ‘give us some space’, and escorted a green looking Courtney to the toilets with the accounts girls pointing, whispering and looking on.

Above: Courier… caught in the crossfire

Above: Witnesses to the carnage.

Courtney had eaten some yucky cheese earlier (which added to the vomitous aroma) and I had thought “it’s be funny if she threw up”… I had not been serious.

In the toilets I washed myself off while talking to a bloke from the office who is the biggest piss head I know. He didn’t even bat an eyelid at the fact I had been thrown up on, seemed slightly impressed, and suggested ordering rum without ice and pouring it all over the stains to remove the smell. “I’m a veteran in these things” he said.

Above: Fun times in public toilets.

I waited outside the female toilets (where a large number of girls were milling around the door looking worried) when a girl I talk to a lot on the phone came up and said… “Hi arron right? I’m *name*. How’s your night going?”

“Well I’ve just been thrown up on” *she recoils the hand she just shook mine with and lets disgust cross her face”… “I have washed up it’s ok”.

“Who threw up on you”?

“My finacee…”

“Oh… is she ok?”

“She’s in the toilet”.

“I don’t think she’s in there anymore. Someone’s vomitted everywhere in there….” (Courtney had taken out the whole female bathroom).

“Yeah that’d be her. I hope she’s still in there otherwise I’ve lost her”.

“I’ll go check for you”.

At that moment Courtney came out of the party clutching all our stuff saying we had to go home now! Naturally I waited for the nice girl to come out of the toilets before proceeding into the party to say my goodbyes citing the destroyed table, which had now long been abandoned, as a damn good reason to leave so early.

I then walked over, bought a professional photo of me and Court in our costumes to remember the night by, before dragging her to try to find a taxi to speed us home.

Above: Damn Hippies!

Should be an interesting day at the office tomorrow!

Back in December of 2004, Amy came to me with an unsual request. She said she didn’t quite know how to ask me, and didn’t know how I was gonna take it. At the time I thought I was was in some sort of trouble… What did I do?!?! I couldn’t think of anything. Dammit…. “Okay what’s up?”… “We need someone to play Santa for the school’s Holiday Care group. Do you want to do it?”

…. huh?

Fuck yeah! For years Mikey has been daring me to be a XMas Santa for a job. I always said if the opportunity arose… This is gonna be great.

So I rocked up on the day. Nervous as hell. I wore some dark shoes to look more santa like, and I got some talcum powder for my hair to grey it up a bit. After months of hearing about Amy’s work… I was a little shocked to find a large shed on bricks. Oookay. So I met up with Amy while the kids were taken to the other side of the school to play some game. She lead me into this tiny office and gave me the Santa costume they bought…. for Seven Dollars! (bought from The Warehouse). That’s right I was a $7 Santa.

It was such a bad, bad costume it was funny. When I put the pants on (which were made of the same material as ) and when I sat down they stretched around my knees so much they were see through. The beard was made of cotton wool, and the hat barely fit my head. To top this all off the ‘coat’ was madeo fthe same material as the pants and only did up at the bottom, so were open at the top like some sort of dirty barfly Santa. Thank god it fit, that’s all I can say.

Unfortunately I found out they were bored the day before, so had gone to see a real Santa in the shopping centre across the road. Oh goody

So I walk out into the room, sit in my ‘throne’ (couch with a sheet thrown over it) and meet the girl who’s going to play santa’s helper. Sigh. Ok…. bring it on. So the kids flock in, in what can only be described to being akin to a swarm of army ants. Creating choas and bring destruction to all in their path. The mob finally settled into a seated position in front on me and started to notice just how shitty Doyley was looking. The yells of “That’s not Santa” from the first moment brought me nothing but dread. What the fuck am I doing? Oh merciful lord, strike me down now. Please.

He did not respond.

Following the obvious statements of Doyle not being the real Santa Claus were the reasoning. “He’s wearing shoes, Santa wears boots” What the fuck? Who notices that? “He’s got curly hair” Santa doesn’t have curly hair? Shit the police are putting out a pretty specific description on the old guy nowadays. “I can see his elastic” (refering to my beard) Well… that I can’t defend. That is a giveaway.

Amy’s boss then screamed at the kids to shut up (after hearing so much about her I was dissapointed. She didn’t say a word to me). They each took it in turns to come up and tell Santa what they wanted for Christmas, have their picture taken and get a flashing ball thing. There was 80+ of them. At first none would sit on my knee or come anywhere near me. Yay. Why is Doyle here? Shoot him! But eventually they got over it and sorta got into it, in a way. They almost all said the same toys they wanted… except for one kid who wanted $4000!? The grade 7′ers were some of the funniest. They don’t believe in Santa anymore and they could see through my costume (probably literally) but they played along the most with the whole act, for the little ones.

It was pretty funny and definately a fucken great experience I wouldn’t give up for anything. Some of the things kids say is classic. For the rest of my days I can say I played Santa at a school I had never even been to before! It was a painful morning though overall. Little kids are so… annoying after an hour and a half. And my knees were aching from kids getting up and down. One thing made it all worth it but. A little girl with *insert brain/mental disease here*. She was so excited to see Santa. She was all big smiles and didn’t wanna go and talked to me after all the other kids buggered off. She was so cute and so sweet. She had the time of her life, and she thought I was Santa. It really made my day. One of those moments where you realise you did something nice for someone less fortunate.

So yeah! Take that those of you who think I’m a bad man. Yes. Take it!!!

I don’t have any of the pictures of me with the kids (for legal reasons) and I wouldn’t want them. But luckily Amy took some pics of just me, aswell as some with me and staff but I don’t know them so wont post them on the internet for all to see.

Sexy! Santa looks stoned.

The things you do for your friends, huh? No it twas a really fun day. Oooo and I got a glowy bally thing for my troubles. It lights up a whole room