Load of scary-crap: Saturday's end of the world

I was at work when it started, judgement day 2011. I sat in the tearoom, alone, gripping my chair and my coffee, counting down the seconds till midnight, until the earthquakes began like a Mexican wave across the Earth as to keep in line with the time discrepancies. 12am hit then 1am hit, I went to bed at about 3am, and there was nothing. The only rumble I heard was my belly. (The late coffee's milk argued with my stomach.)
The next morning, I awoke, half expecting to see disrepair everywhere, power out, no television, and people screaming. Nope, I awoke to a text on my phone from a workmate asking what he had to do in the freezer that day.
Later, as I worked on my uni assignments, I wondered about those, particularly in America, religious nuts, and I use the term in the most derogatory sense of the word, who were hell-bent on predicting everyone's doom and attempting to scare the shit out of people; for what? Let's think back to what else they were saying? Oh yes: join us, pray, it's not too late, pray, join us... Seriously? Was it all just a recruitment drive? A big load of scary-crap to get new members? It's those freaks that give any religion a bad name. And who in any rational frame of mind would put their faith in them now?
I suppose on the upside, I get another year of life. What, haven't you heard? The end of the world is happening next year too! 21st December 2012. Mark it in your diary folks, and stock up on booze. If it is all going to end, at least you'll be pissed and laughing about it!

- CLM

The Afterlife: is it just a load of shit?

The Afterlife: is it just a load of shit?

Good afternoon! Today's posting comes from a cubicle at Queensland's most prestigious university, aptly named: The University of Queensland. Yes, that's a capital 'T' in the title.
Anyway, that's not why I'm here. Apart from shifting my bowels, I have been deep in thought about Stephen Hawking's latest claim about the afterlife being a "fairy story for those who are afraid of the dark". He insists that no afterlife exists; there is no God or Gods; and, against the wishes of the late John Lennon, there is no heaven.
Now, I'm not going to debate whether Hawking is right or wrong. Ultimately, none of us will find out until we cross over, which, depending on who you speak to, will be either this weekend 21st May 2011, or next year 21st December. No, I'm not going to argue with one of the greatest minds of our time, and let's face it, really, with the unfortunate body of a vehicle he's been handed in his life, a mind is all he is.
My thoughts dwell on his words, John's I mean: "imagine there's no heaven." What does it all mean? Why are we here? If there is no real good or bad place to go after we die, what then is the point? Of everything?
I'll tell you - shit...
Yes, shit. The only sure thing that we have to do. Boiling it down: whatever we do in life, wherever we are, whoever we interact with, all don't matter a toss because after we've gone we turn to dust. We are all just animals that eat, make little animals, and shit.
There we are, meaning of life solved in one sitting, or is it shitting?
Either way, I like to think there is a better place than this world. Bloody heck there just has to be! It can't be too hard, with the cost of living going up, all the natural disasters, and Gillard as PM; I really want to believe there is a land of milk and honey outside the bars of the life-prison that we all live in. Milk that even lactose intolerant people can enjoy or honey for the diabetics, or people who are allergic to, well, milk and or honey.
If not, and we are destined for the dust heap, or worm food only to be shit out by the little wriggly bastards, I take comfort in thinking back to a time before I can remember, before I was born, and I think to myself, not a wonderful world, but that was the best frigging sleep I ever had.

- CLM

Regular Day

Regular Day

Hello again! Don't stress, I'm regular as I was yesterday so hats off to the Customs House and their fine food.
Today was very average: average weather, average news, average everything. And, as was promised, the 16gb iPhone 4 that I tried to cancel didn't actually turn up. No courier, nothing. Typical, though, if the service Optus chooses for delivery is as competent as them, I daresay I'll receive it next Monday. Wait, I'll tell the courier return to sender next Monday, because, apparently, in the 21st century, that is the only way to cancel a mobile phone order placed over the phone. I should've just paid the messenger boy down the lane a farthing and fed his horse an extra carrot before sending him on his way with my cancelation note, which would, without a doubt, have been the more reliable and quicker option.
Average. Yes, that was today.

- CLM

cheers,

Craig.

Jus: it's jus' a fancy word for gravy...

Well, it's Sunday, and it's generally the only day I have off. Today, I shouted my fiancée and my parents lunch at Brisbane's Customs House.
It's funny going to places like this, fancy enough so you can't wear thongs but casual enough so you can wear jeans and sneakers. Customs House is a historic building that is affiliated with The University of Queensland, which is great for me because I am a student at UQ and I get a discount. The food is a little exy, around $35 for a main, but I will say that it was worth every cent. Dad had the steak; Mum had the Veal scallopine; Amanda had the chicken breast; and I had the pan fried duck breast with a duck and shitaki mushroom pie in port wine jus. My descriptions of the food above make the menu sound basic, mine was really the only one I elaborated on but they were all like that: each meal had a small blurb and everything sounded delicious. Dad didn't understand any of it and asked what a 'jus' was, said phonetically. Mum and I laughed and told him it was a fancy name for gravy, before I joked and said I'd get him the kids menu.
While we waited, we looked at the view, which was of the cliffs that guided the river and the coat hangerish Storey Bridge as the backdrop. I could only imagine where the waters rose to during the January floods, but today, apart from being a little chilly, was perfect.
The meals arrived, all dressed nicely and in the centre of large plates, which made you think that the portion you've received is a tester, to see if you like the meal before they bring you the real portion, but no, and I am glad for it. After we'd finished with a lot of "mmm!"s and "ooh, it's nice"s, our plates were clean and we were perfectly content. Not hungry, filled to the right belt size, and not unbuttoning the top of our pants in an uncomfortable slouch. We were ready for desert.
Mum and I had the chocolate fondant, and Amanda and Dad had the apple n rhubarb spring rolls. We were all pleased with our choices. It was my first fondant and I did that thing like they do on Masterchef to see if the middle is runny; it was. The accompanying ice-cream was clearly home-made, silky and decedent.
In all, I would definitely go there again. It seems to be the place for birthdays, at least 3 songs were sung during our main. I suppose the only thing that gave me the shits were the wait staff who persistently bumped into me as they pass behind my chair. Apart from that, the service was top notch too.
In all, a great relaxing Sunday. The olds loved it, and so did Amanda and I. All that's left is to see how it comes out. I'll let you know tomorrow, I guess.

- CLM

cheers,

Craig.

My Number 2...

Number 2! Ha! First and last time I'll be able to crack that joke!
Anyhow, what has been shitting me the past couple of days? Well, Optus has. Here's why. About Tuesday an Optus rep called me to let me know that I was eligible for a new phone, new contract, a new car, and 2 million dollars. Okay, not the last two but the first two were something I already knew. Anyway, after the Indian man went through the deals (might I point out I am still using an iPhone 3G, not a 3GS) and the iPhone 4 seemed to be the only deal worthwhile, the 16gb. So I caved, said yes. Later, I checked the Internet, just to see if mr Punjab was doing what he said and offering the best deal, but to my suspicions, he wasn't. I originally wanted the 32gb, but that would have cost me the amount to pay off a small car, hence, the 16. Now, at this moment of realisation another rep pops up online in the form of a chat window. Convinces me of the better deal, which I'd already seen myself, and assured me I could order a 32gb iPhone and just cancel the other.
4 days later, 6 phone calls, telling this f$cking story to about 12 different people, and the 16gb is still on its way... Couldn't cancel it, no that would be too easy, but get this, yes I have the cooling off period, 10 days, but the only way I can stop the 16gb is to wait for the courier and refuse to sign for it!!?!?! Seriously, WTF?! Then, about 10 days after that I have to call back and cancel it... No shit, I sent it back...
So Optus, you are a big smelly number 2 in my book, and it seems that the way your company runs is like the left hand not knowing what the right is doing or like a person lacking the motor skills to coordinate their hand as to wipe their arse before they shit themselves.

-CLM

In The Beginning...

First bog! I mean blog! Well, both! Yes, vulgar as it is, blogging on the throne seemed to be a good idea yesterday, since many ideas about life and the mysteries if the universe enter my mind during my time On The Throne. I'm sure your the same. Time is a precious commodity to a writer, like sunscreen to a ranga, or oil to America, beer to a pisshead, or even centerlink to the professionally unemployed. So, I figured time on the throne is wasted whilst I sit and stare at the door, my lower body driving the dump truck to the water tip as to deliver its load of spent fuel.
My time, for today, is nearing its end. I think I will continue on later, most likely tomorrow. Join me as I battle the forces of evil, which is the auto correct function on Apple's prestigious iPhone.
Oh, don't ask to borrow my phone. After this, you'll know why.
- CLM