' I tend to sweat heavily in warm climates. My clothes are soaking wet from dawn to dusk. This worried me at first, but when I went to a doctor and described my normal daily intake of booze, drugs and poison he told me to come back when the sweating STOPPED. That would be the danger point, he said- a sign that my body's desperately overworked flushing mechanism had broken down completely. "I have great faith in the natural processes" he said. "But in your case....well....I find no precedent. We'll just have to wait and see, then work with what's left."'
Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
I guess the reason for the quote is twofold. The most glaringly obvious is that huge ball of gas..(insert joke here)..the Sun has been pelting us down with UV through the chewed-up remains of the ozone layer almost constantly the past few weeks, give or take a day or so. There has been enough sweat coming out of most people to fill an Olympic-sized swimming pool. The other reason for quoting Dr.Thompson is that it's now December. 'Tis the seaon for consuming a stupid amount of beer and drugs. For the upcoming parties as well as the annual burdon of family gatherings.
Feels like a while since I've clogged people's in-box with tales of boredom. Laziness being a key factor. Darren having hidden the computer another. I tell ya, having two of the regular fat-a-gram readers- beautiful girls both of them, say that my rantings are 'too long' put me in a foul mood for a while too. Well, a few minutes. Not often I hear girls refer to anything of mine as 'too long'. In another time, another context I'd be beaming with pride. Oh well...as I'm fond of responding these days 'It's small, but it's ANGRY'.
There has been no news from the Telstra front. Debt collectors need their holidays too,I suppose. Truth be told I haven't thought much about it- there's been too much awesome things happening- not in my life so much, but for those around me.
'Feeling Minnesota' Pollard has finally tied the knot in a grand fashion! Wedding took place at the Ripponlea Gardens on a beautiful day with Ally, a beautiful person. The groomsmen all dressed up Matrix-style which led the guests to hope for guns and bullet-time, slow motion effects. On that count we were disappointed. There was Jewish dancing that got more and more confused as it went on, people bumping into each other like decapitated chicken. Oh, and I jumped into the pool fully clothed- wearing a Kenji jacket, Peter Cassel trousers and Aquilla shoes which would nudge the price to $300, hoping other people would follow suit (Pun? 75%, Not a Pun? 20%, Undecided? 5%). Alas no one else was stupid enough.
I'd wager that I've exceeded everyones attention span and feigning-to-care to write any longer so I'll bid you adieu.
I can smell your spicy brains,