I Blogged Myself

Why do you always come here? I guess we'll never know. It's like a kind of torture, To read this blog, y'know.

Welcome to the most sensational, inspirational, celebrational, Muppetational blog since Kermit left just a little bit of the swamp in his pants.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Hold Ya Horses!

No, not yet, but thank you for asking. It still looks like this:

Our due date is Sunday 1st or Monday 2nd October 2006, depending on which doctor you ask. I'm telling you that, just so you're all aware of what's going on. The concern and demands shown in the comments to my previous post are both heartwarming and disturbing (mainly the former, though). :)

Of course, these dates don't mean too much, because the baby could come at any time from two weeks before the due date to two weeks after the due date.

All I can tell you is that it hasn't come yet. But we're ready!

The nursery is all set up, we've got the 'birth plan', the hospital bags are packed and by the door, the baby carseat has been professionally fitted by A Man, our families are on stand-by (including mine who'll be travelling down from Sydney once we call them to say it's happening), my workplace knows that when I get "the call", I'm outta there for probably two weeks (precise length of time spent at home will be determined after the birth), and tomorrow I'll be handing blank VHS tapes over to certain trusted friends and asking them to record specific TV shows for us while we're otherwise engaged next week and/or the week afterwards.


The only reason I haven't been online this week is because my new job is zapping me of all my energy, so when I get home, there's time for Wifey, the cats, dinner, TV and bed. In that order. I suspect there'll be very little else until my poor whinging body gets used to full-time (or near enough, anyway) work again. Baby prep has also had a lot to do with me having so little blog time recently.

But not to worry - when Wifey goes into labour, I already have a special post sitting in draft, ready to be published before we head out the door. So unless we're not at home when her water breaks, or if she starts screaming at me for running to the computer instead of running to the car, then you'll know that it's all going down by checking back here and reading about it.

Then you might be waiting a few days before you hear from me again. But hopefully you'll understand why and cut me some slack.

As for what the doctor had to say in today's weekly check-up, the baby's now exactly 40 centimetres long (to the uninformed, that means 'fully cooked'), and his or her heartbeat is extremely healthy. Wifey is also in top notch. Her heart rate, blood pressure and urine sample (excuse me) coming back with full marks. And not because she knows how to aim into a small cup. She's very fit, and the baby seems to be happy and comfortable in there.

So much so, in fact, that Wifey reckons it'll take its time coming out, and that she won't actually go into labour until this time next week (at the earliest). I'm hoping for things to get moving a little sooner than that, but what do I know.


The fact that everything is healthy and good is a wonderful sign. We hope and pray that Wifey will have a trouble-free labour, but of course they rarely go off without some kind of incident. So we're not expecting things to go smoothly on the day just because they've been smooth so far. But if it all goes well, we'll obviously be very grateful!

Today we're a happy couple, but in maybe just a few days' time we'll be a family!


Monday, September 25, 2006

This Is Scary!

You can see a young Bill Gates in the lower left-hand corner.

Exactly how did this company rise to the dizzying heights it now enjoys?




Sunday, September 24, 2006

Our Bottom End Just Got Sweeter

From my inbox:

The wait is over ... the bottom end just got sweeter! Come and help us celebrate the opening of Melbourne's first ever Krispy Kreme CBD store.

- 607 Collins Street, cnr Collins & Spencer Streets, Melbourne

- Tuesday, 26th September, 2006
- 6:30am for the chance to win the coveted Golden Ticket; your ticket to a year's supply of free Krispy Kreme doughnuts!
- 12:30pm for the official ribbon cutting

- 12 hour outside broadcast by VEGA FM
- VEGA FM personalities
- Live perfomance by The Last Draft Pick AFL players band
- Giveaways
- Coffee, Ice Kreme & doughnuts!

See you there!

(If you don't like them, don't eat them.)


Friday, September 22, 2006

Well Done, Boys

They've done it again. Twice in a row they're through to the Grand Final. I actually watched the game tonight, and that's saying a lot for someone like me, whose interest in sport normally only extends to ... well ... nothing at all.

But it was a good game, and no matter what Fremantle threw at them, the Sydney Swans just kept coming back. They were unstoppable, and it all augers well for next week.

Can they make it two premiereships back-to-back?

This guy might have something to say about it.

Sure, he's a bruiser ... but what a player! GO THE SWANNIES!! For the second year running, let's finish number:

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Listen To Your Heart

The day: Third day in my new job.

The time: 9am.

The place: Work.

The background: I began feeling a few chest pangs on Sunday, akin to having heartburn or shortness of breath. As the week progressed, these pangs grew in frequency from two or three a day on Sunday afternoon to one every five to ten minutes on Wednesday night. I asked Wifey to call the doctor for me while I was at work today and book an appointment for tonight.

The story: Wifey rang me and said that the doctor, upon hearing of my conditions, advised that I should admit myself to the nearest hospital immediately for an emergency check-up.

The difficulty: Telling my new boss that her most recent employee needed to skip out of work on his third day to visit the emergency ward because he was suspected of having a mild heart attack.

The beauty of where I work: She immediately showed concern and tried to convince me to let her drive me there. (I declined because I knew she had a day full of meetings she needed to attend, and because I felt a bit silly about the whole inconvenience thing anyway … not to mention that it was a trifle embarrassing.)

The comparison to my former workplace: The Human Resources Manager would not have been at all sympathetic. The General Manager would have made some kind of inappropriate joke. I would then have overheard the Student Support Manager saying how funny it’d be if I died on my way to the hospital. Additionally, I would have been told to make up any lost time over the weekend, and advised that if I died before the day was over, I would not be paid for the hours worked up to that point.

The drive: As I drove the twenty minutes to the nearest hospital, I would double over the steering wheel every five or ten minutes when the chest pain recurred. Exciting times! I wondered if I was indeed going to cark it on the road and take out a few other drivers or pedestrians with me.

The parking: Everything around the hospital is metered parking, isn’t it. And that includes the parking at the emergency ward. Because that’s exactly what someone in an emergency is going to do – stop and get some change for the meter. Sounds fair and reasonable to me. Thankfully, I found an empty spot directly opposite the emergency entrance (I have a habit of finding the best possible car park, as I’ve said before - see point 27), and put all the coins I had on me into the parking metre. It didn’t buy me a lot of time, but 45 minutes should just about do it, right? Right.

The reception: Waiting to greet me in the emergency ward was … no one. The place was empty. Completely deserted. It made me wonder if I’d walked into a fake hospital that is now only used as a filming location for Scrubs or ER or something. (Maybe I watch too much TV. I’m not saying.) After calling out “Hello?” a few times and peering through the sealed glass doors, a security guard eventually wandered out and asked me if I was alright. “Absolutely, champ,” I felt like replying, “I’m just here to sell you some flowers.” Instead of biting his head off, however, I simply said, “I’m here with chest pains but there’s no one around to see me.” He said he’d get someone for me, and then waddled off at a fairly leisurely pace (for my mind – I should have dropped to the floor just to hurry him up!). Finally a blonde nurse appeared and took my name and symptoms. She only asked a few questions before clearly deciding the matter was serious and called someone else over to finish the form while she took me in to Emergency.

The embarrassing entrance: Because I’m a larger guy than she was (that’s how she put it, although she was a girl and therefore not a guy of any size), she insisted that I sit myself in a wheelchair and let her wheel me into Emergency. Part of me found this to be amusing (I’d just driven myself fifteen kilometres and had been putting up with these symptoms for four days now), but most of me found it a little embarrassing. Particularly as the trip in the wheelchair lasted for no more than five metres. I was asked to sit on the first bed we came to, and remove my shirt. I told the girl I was married, but apparently she wasn’t interested in me like that anyway.

The prodding and the probing: Once topless (insert wolf-whistle here), I was given a hospital gown to put on, but not before the team of three nurses who surrounded me had stuck about ten suction-capped metal things across my chest and clipped wires to them (which led to the machine behind me that went ping). Blood sample was taken from the back of my hand (and a permanent needle thingo was left stuck in there), a pressure thing was put on my finger, they took an X-Ray of my chest, they took my blood pressure, and they generally fussed all over me. I was told to take deep breaths, short breaths, in-between breaths. They listened to my breathing and heartbeat from the front and back. They checked my pulse and asked for my description of the problem.

The lame description: Unfortunately, it wasn’t as simple as saying I had ‘chest pains’. It was never actually ‘pain’. So I described it the best way I knew how: With a lot of words. I told them that in my mind’s eye I imagined my heart acting like a lung or a balloon, in that it felt like it was expanding when it did whatever it was doing, and that it became hard to breath for a few seconds. I said sometimes it felt like it was a tightness in my chest, and other times it felt like it was about to burst. Most of the time I could feel heart palpitations, but that could be because I always put my hand to my chest when it started, so I was able to feel my heart beating anyway.

The stress-head: I felt it only fair that I explain to the hospital staff how today was only my third day in my new job, and how Wifey was just a week and a half from the due date of her pregnancy. The nurse explained that she too was pregnant (“I’m so happy for you – I’M DYING, HERE!”), and I could tell that they clearly thought I was simply too stressed about these things. So I tried my best and calmest to specify that I didn’t actually feel very stressed about either of these things, although I was sensible enough to concede that perhaps I was subconsciously more stressed than I realised, and left them to determine what was wrong with me before my left ventricle popped.

The pregnant nurse: The pregnant nurse (who didn’t look very pregnant at all, so it must have been a pretty recent development) was the best of the lot of them, and seemed to take the most interest in ensuring that I was okay from time to time. However, she became quite busy shortly afterwards with an old woman who arrived by ambulance and needed lots of attention from the pregnant nurse. This meant that instead, I got a lot of …

The naïve students: Naïve students are the best. Oh, except when you’re dying of a dodgy heart and they think you’re just keeping an interesting beat on your ribcage. Unfortunately there were more students on deck today than there were doctors and nurses combined. Sure, I know they’ve got to learn somehow or else we’ll run out of trained professionals, but it was startling to see hardly any fully-qualified medical staff members patrolling the emergency ward.

The disinterested doctor: I’m sure he’s brilliant, but he couldn’t have wanted to be there any less if I’d held a gun to his head and told him they were giving millions of dollars away in the street but he had to stay here and take a bullet. (Nice guy, though.) I got to give him my lame description as well, and he was so thrilled he asked me to say it again. Then he implied that I was making it up and claimed that some elements of my lame description contradicted other elements of the same lame description. “What can I tell you?” I asked him. “It’s lame.”

The wait: After Disinterested Doctor MD left me, I lay there for almost an hour and a half, shivering in the thin hospital gown, getting hungry, drowsy and miserable. During this time, Neil, an elderly hip-replacement survivor who’d left his hearing aid at home and required everything shouted at him repeatedly, was moved into the bed on my left, while Denise (the aforementioned elderly woman who relieved me of the pregnant nurse) arrived and the ambulance guys told the staff that she’d been found on the floor of a toilet cubicle in the local shopping centre, had no memory of how she’d gotten there, and happily had also lost her hearing aid over the course of the day. So while I initially thought I might be able to catch a bit of shut-eye while I waited for Doctor Dull to return with his findings, the continual shouting of “YOU’LL BE RIGHT, DEAR” and “JUST MOVE YOUR HIP THAT WAY A LITTLE, DO YOU WANT ANOTHER BLANKET? WHAT’S YOUR NEXT OF KIN’S NAME, DARLING?” made sure that I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed the whole time.

The results: Finally, Doctor Dead-Personality came back and announced that they didn’t know what it was, but that my heart was perfectly normal. The X-Ray and blood tests had shown nothing abnormal, and my blood pressure and heartbeat were both fine. He looked at me in a way that indicated he thought I was making it all up for attention. (I was.) No, not at all. In truth, however, the sensation of my heart seizing up in my chest had pretty much subsided since I’d been plugged into the heart-rate monitor thingo you always see on House. I half-expected Billy Kennedy to come in and be pressured into giving me my first kiss before I died. But the point is: I was all right, and “free to go”. That’s how Diamond Doc put it.

The fall-out: It must have been stress after all. I’m not sure how or why, but apparently this whole “working for a living” thing had taken its toll on me after only two full days, to the point where I was unable to cope with a third day in the office without my heart exploding from the pressure of it all. Let me just say how ridiculous I find this explanation to be. At least my description of the symptoms was real, even if it was lame. But the explanation that I was experiencing these moments of discomfort because of stress is just stupid. I’ve been as happy as anything to be working at my new job, and the weight that’s been lifted off my shoulders as far as not having provided for Wifey and the baby for the past seven months just makes the whole notion of it being ‘stress’ laughable. But hey – I hope they’re right because I’d much prefer that there’s nothing wrong with my health.

The frustration: Finding a $50 parking fine on my windscreen when I returned to my car, because the 35 cents I had in my pocket (which was all the cash I had on me at the time) had only bought me enough metered parking to last until 10:02am (and I wasn’t released from the emergency ward until 12:46pm).

The return to work: Tail between my legs, I returned to work just in time for the Footy Finals Lunch. (Yay! A morning off work and a free lunch! I could get used to doing this for a living!) The only problem was that this meant I had to give the same explanation to every member of staff over lunch who asked me individually what was wrong with me and if I was okay now. (Don’t get me wrong; bless their hearts and everything – and still no one made me feel bad for missing work – but I had to tell the same embarrassing “It must’ve been stress but I honestly don’t feel stressed” story about twenty times.)

The pain continues: This evening, I’ve felt the same pangs of weirdness in my chest twice. I’m hoping that an early night tonight will help my body relax and de-stress. Only one more day before the weekend, and I intend to take things very slowly on Saturday and Sunday. No more running around silly. Not that I ever did that, but you know what I mean. The word of the day is ‘RELAX’. (Don’t do it. When you want to go to it. Etcetera.)

The really sad part: Wifey told me over dinner tonight that she was crying throughout the day as she waited for news of my condition. She thought I was going to die and she'd be raising our kid on her own. The poor beautiful darling.

The moral of the story: Listen to your heart. Sometimes it’s simply saying, “Let me rest.” (Other times it’s saying, “No more extra-spicy sauce for tonight, please.”)

The conclusion – and how this whole thing affects you: If and when I die, I will go on record here and now as asking Riss to visit each blog linked to my own, and leave a message informing you of my passing. (Is that okay, Riss?) Otherwise you wouldn’t find out, and no one would be able to access my Blogger account to post something about my death. Additionally, you’d all be leaving messages that would remain in the “No Man’s Land” of Comment Moderation and never be seen by anyone. I'm glad I could be so cheery. I hope your heart continues to beat loud and strong. I hope mine does, too.


Tuesday, September 19, 2006

My First Day

I had my first day at in my new job today.

I quite liked it.

I think I'll go back tomorrow.


Monday, September 18, 2006

Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, It's Off To Work I Go ...

Tomorrow is go day. (Everyone keeps thinking it's today, but that's alright. I have one more day of freedom and laziness and no responsibilities, so I'm happy for people to think otherwise. However, it might become difficult and awkward if people ring me tonight and ask me how my "first day" went.)

But tomorrow is go day. I go in to my new workplace, I meet people, I get shown to a desk, I learn the ropes, and I do stuff, and within eight hours I become proficient at everything required of me. Otherwise I might get fired.

I don't really feel nervous ... I never did, through any of my interviews ... but I know the whole "get up really early and stay awake all day" thing is going to take its toll. At least this first week! I've kind of gotten used to "keeping my own time" since quitting my last job in February.

What's that I hear you say? "Lazy slob?" Hey, when your biggest appointment for the day is in the smallest room in the house, you can afford to take it easy!

(The smallest room in our house isn't actually the toilet - it's the study. I was referring to my time online, thankyouverymuch!)

Anyway, if you don't hear from me for a few days, it could be because I'm snowed under at my new job. Or I could just be really slack. Either way, I'm sure you'll cope. Speak to you soon.


Thursday, September 14, 2006

The Three Things Meme

The e'er-delightful MelbourneGirl tagged me for this meme last week. I trust you all enjoy, etc.

1. Three things that scare me:

- Not being able to 'provide' for Wifey and our child
- Fire destroying everything we own
- Gretel Killeen

2. Three people that make me laugh:

- Rob Sitch (as fictitious Australian current affairs host Mike Moore in Frontline)
- Shaun Micallef (as anything)
- Gianluca Di Milano (as 'himself')

3. Three things I hate the most:

- That infuriating mix of ignorance and arrogance we see so often
- Paedophilia
- Unrequited love

4. Three things I don't understand:

- Inconsiderate people (especially drivers)
- Instructions written in Japanese
- Hate (whether embodied in individuals or groups)

5. Three things I'm doing right now:

- Procrastinating
- Blogging
- Writing a handful of scripts (I'm meant to be, anyway!)

6. Three things I want to do before I die:

- Have something I've written get published (in book form)
- Live in America for 12 months (Christmas in DisneyWorld; New Year's Eve in New York City)
- Become a Grandpa

7. Three things I can do:

- Bring any conversation back to myself
- Flummox people with my vast knowledge of useless trivia
- Tie a snake lolly into a knot with my tongue

8. Three things I can't do:

- Sew
- Dry dishes
- Tell a story - any story - quickly

9. Three ways to describe my personality:

- Brilliant
- Eccentric

10. Three things I think you should listen to:

- This song (paying close attention to the clever wordplay)
- This song (it's a lot of fun in the movie)
- And this song (slow, sad and beautiful when set to music)

11. Three things you should never listen to:

- Internet flamers
- Channel Seven's ads for upcoming episodes of Lost, 24, or similar shows (because they spoil things and make unrealistic promises)
- This woman

12. Three things I'd like to learn:

- A trade
- How to make a million dollars (without leaving the couch)
- How to turn blogging and reviewing TV shows into a well-paid career

13. Three favourite foods:

- Wifey's magnificent carbonara
- Roast lamb
- Pizza (current favourite: Mexicana)
- Doughnuts (normal iced or Krispy Kreme glazed)
- Violent Crumble
- Turkish Delight (the chocolate-coated variety)
- Cadbury's new Rocky Road chocolate block
- Sorry, how many things can I list??

14. Three beverages I drink regularly:

- Coca-Cola
- Pepsi Cola
- Aldi Cola

15. Three shows I watched as a kid:

- Well, derr!
- The Girl From Tomorrow (also The Henderson Kids and its sequel)
- Some show I've never been able to remember properly (or find out more about), where three teenagers found some sort of mystical crystal (shaped almost like a sword), that - when held aloft - would stop time and send those holding it through some kind of vortex or something ... obviously I have very unclear memories of the show, but I know I LOVED it! (Can anyone help?)

16. Three people I'm tagging:

- Whoever
- Wants
- To


Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Celebrity Bloggers

You may have noticed that I've given this blog a 'new-look sidebar of destiny', and one of the changes I've made is to streamline the links to all the celebrity bloggers I had listed there.

This means the list is now here, and will be linked from the sidebar in one handy click.

I'll add more celebrity bloggers' links to this list as necessary by updating this post whenever the mood takes me.


Monday, September 11, 2006

September 11 - A Look Back

It was five years ago today that America suffered the most devastating terrorist attack ever unleashed upon home soil. Two planes, hijacked by terrorists, were flown directly into the twin towers of the World Trade Center (sic) in New York city. Thousands died. It was a tragedy. No doubt about it.


I realise this view might make me unpopular with some readers, but you should bear the following points in mind before attacking me with your wrath:

1) I was, am and will continue to be absolutely saddened beyond belief by what happened in New York five years ago;
2) I believe there is a lot more to the story about America vs Osama Bin Laden than the American authorities have ever let on;
3) I do not condone the murder of innocent civilians ... of ANY country;
4) It was not the worst crime conducted on innocent people in the history of the world;
5) I would very much like to stop hearing about it every year on this day;
6) Every time the media and the Amercian people/government dwell on the topic, the terrorists are winning again;
7) I very much enjoyed Channel Seven's presentation of The Path To 9/11, and the ABC's Canadian-based The Cutting Edge: The Secret History Of 9/11 this week, and despite both documentaries coming under heavy fire (generally from those who have a vested interest in debunking any truth they may contain, it could be argued) for being extremely biased, blatant cover-ups, wildly inaccurate and blah, blah, blah, they made for compelling viewing and at least got the viewer thinking;
8) I believe that the day Bush struck back (not to mention at the wrong enemy) was the day we were all doomed to live the rest of our lives in fear of a terrorist attack on our own home cities. Fighting fire with fire never makes things better, and that's what Bush did by retaliating. Some Christian he is! "An eye for an eye"? People who quote that to justify their own acts of vengeance are taking the reference way out of context. "Turn the other cheek" is what the Bible actually teaches (if you read it). Being a bully and trying to hurt them because they hurt you was never going to ensure America's security from terrorism or detractors around the world. And now all they've done is bring every other nation on the planet down with them. We're all doomed, because America's too pig-headed to risk "losing face" on the global market. Losing face is your biggest concern? Being top dog is all you're worried about? Someone dared to kill some of your own people, so you have to do the same to them? Even though they did it to you because you'd already been doing it to them? Look at Israel and Palestine. It never ends until someone chooses to actively stop killing people!


I didn't mean for this to turn into a lecture, a sermon or (most of all) a political debate. But while the events of 11th September 2001 were an atrocious blight on anyone who considers themselves part of humanity, retaliating like America did only signed our death warrants. All of us.

And I'm just getting sick of us 'commemmorating' it every year. They're terrorists. They do it to upset and hurt you. If you keep reminding the world how upset and hurt you are by what they did, that's when they continue to win. Not when you bomb them, their neighbours, their children or some other country entirely. That just makes terrorists of yourselves. The only difference is that you use tea towels to dry your dishes, rather than as headwear. Otherwise, you're exactly the same.

So cut it out.

This anti-war message was brought to you by SPC Baked Beans and Spaghetti. If your country has the life blown out of it by a nuclear attack, make sure your bomb shelter is well-stocked with long-lasting cans of SPC.


Friday, September 08, 2006

What I Did Today ...

Prepare thyself:





That's right; it finally happened. I just received a phone call confirming it, and the documents are being emailed to me even as I type this. I'm now officially a Communications Assistant, with the potential to climb the 'corporate ladder' at my new workplace within the first three months.

It's a red-letter day in the life of BEVIS, so I thought I'd better use red letters.

My thanks to everyone I've ever met in my entire life (in real life or online) for all your love and support -- I'm a very happy chappy right now!

I'm gonna go buy myself a Muppet collectible to celebrate.


Thursday, September 07, 2006

Busy Little Bee

I've been remarkably busy here lately. Setting up a nursery, designing an invite for a friend, looking into FINALLY getting a new (reliable) mobile phone, writing scripts, etc, etc, etc.

I'm looking forward to the weekend (although it'll be a busy one), because I'll get to do something a little different. It's my niece's birthday party, for one. She's two.

Two ADORABLE, that is!

But anyway, just so you know I haven't been completely slack with my blogging, I've just updated the latest episode of Big Blogger on my TV blog, as well as the review for the first episode of Thank God You're Here which aired on Australian TV last night.

There are big plans in store for the rest of Big Blogger, so don't forget about it! It takes me a long time to write each ep, and I'd hate to think I'm the only one reading it. Even some of the Housemates themselves don't appear to be checking in! (Not looking at anyone in particular.)

If I don't visit your blog between now and then (which is highly likely at the moment, sorry!), have a great weekend.


Tuesday, September 05, 2006


RIP Steve Irwin, "The Crocodile Hunter" (on right),
1962 - 2006

Yesterday afternoon, I found the report of Steve Irwin's death to be very sad. Sure, he was kind of an embarrassment as far as international celebrities go (what with all the "Crikey!" and "Streuth!" and other comments like that as he was representing the rest of us Australians to the world), but his heart was in the right place. And in the end, that's what killed him. The stingray struck him in the chest, causing his death within minutes.

A painful way to die, but I suppose he went out the way we always expected he would - killed by a beastie he was getting far too close to.

I hope the lessons he tried to teach authorities and other bodies who hunt and kill defenseless animals indiscriminately will be remembered now that he's gone ... rather than forgotten while they continue to kill en masse.

I'm not normally one to post an environmental or conservationist message here, so while I'm at it: Car pool.


Monday, September 04, 2006

What's Your Poison Slogan?

La Nadine and Elaine drew my attention to this last Friday.*

* I think this may be a new low. I didn't create the site in question, nor did I blog about it first. In fact, I didn't even copy the idea to blog about it. I copied the idea to copy the idea to blog about a site I didn't create. Am I lame or what?!**

** Don't answer that.

Anyway, the idea is you type in your name (or a product you need to advertise, purportedly), and it generates a random slogan for you. Keep doing it, and watch the hilarious results flood in!

Some of mine so far include:

"But I'd Rather Have a Bowl of BEVIS."

"All BEVIS, All The Time."

"Put A BEVIS In Your Tank."
(No, that's what Wifey did.)

"A BEVIS Works Wonders."

"How Many Licks Does it Take to Get to the Center of a BEVIS?"
(Oh my!)

"Top Breeders Recommend BEVIS." (Hmm, not sure who they've been talking to ...)

"Silly Rabbit, BEVIS is for Kids." (?? - The logic's bizarre, but you can't argue with the findings.)

"Nothing Sucks Like A BEVIS." (Too true, too true. As this post demonstrates.)

Then I thought I'd finish off on a couple of slogans for Wifey, and look what it said:

"Strong and Beautiful, Just Like Wifey." (I tell ya, it's like it knows us!)

And then finally:

"You've Always Got Time For Wifey."

And on that note, I'll speak to you later.

[logs off to spend time with Wifey***]

*** Four weeks today; one month from two days ago ... it won't be long now until two become three. Kind of like that Spice Girls song "When Two Become One", only in reverse.


Friday, September 01, 2006

Back To The Future Rides No More

Read this article: Sad but true.

I'm just SOOOOOOO glad I visited in 2004 and got to go on the ride before it closed. I knew it was bound to happen soon, and if we hadn't gone to the USA then, there's no way I'd have been able to visit it now before it gets closed down.

Indulge me a moment while I take you on an image-driven journey down Memory Lane (located in downtown Orlando, Florida) as I reminisce about Back To The Future ... The Ride:

So if you've ever wanted to ride this fantastic (or 'dated', depending on who you ask) and historical (literally) amusement park ride, but you can't see yourself getting to either of the Los Angeles or Tokyo versions anytime soon (both of which are also slated to close fairly shortly - although no dates are known for those closures as yet), then you'd better get yourself to Florida pretty quickly, before you're ...