Saturday, April 29, 2006

heh, kids.

truths from my world.

1: referees never change their minds. no matter how much you argue and whinge. unfortunately there is an exception to this rule. it's called the incompetent referee. despite some referees who make incorrect decisions, the worst ref is the one who is able to be swayed by whinging.

disclaimer: i've been a ref. and as a ref goes, i'm more pathetic than most, but at least i know i'm hopeless.

so today. we're playing, actually we're playing well. having a great game. our opponents are playing well, it's all in the spirit and stuff. the ref makes a few incorrect decisions, but you get that. like, i'm running back with one of their forwards, i'm trying to shoulder the prick out of the way, i miss, i trip, and i end up rolling on my arse in front of him trying to get out of the way. i get a free kick. heh, for one of our free kick divers, milkers and oscar winning performers, they'd be happy. i'm embarrassed.

but we get a few decisions against us. whatever, shit happens. but some of our guys start yarping at the ref. every decision against us. on and on. and on. it's annoying. let's get on with it.

2: if you argue with the ref, swear at him, or the linesmen, especially if they are just kids, you will eventually get carded. hell, we're lucky to get linesmen, some can do offside, but some can't. argueing with the ref is a waste of time.

maybe the truths are the same.

i'm thinking of introducing something at training. for when you feel like yarping off at the ref. all you have to do is say, out loud "fuck the team, they can play with 10" or for the next idiot, 9

Thursday, April 27, 2006

well before work brings me down too much i'll write up about the weekend on the boat. we had a photography competition. usually this is film only, and there's a separate digital competition later in the year. but this year the big event was a combined film and digital.

saturday was the usual hectic start. all the photographers spending as much time in the water as possible, cameras in housings with strobe lights and cables and connectors being ferried from one side of the boat to the other, lowered to divers in the water, collected from the divers, dumped in fresh water tubs and then the divers opening them up, downloading the pics or changing the films, then doing it all over again. the conference room was full of laptops and camera bits.

unfortunately due to the popularity of digital cameras, the film guys had real problems with the processing. just getting the chemicals to the local processor was a bit of a problem. gonna be interesting to see how many film guys we get next year, only 4 his year, maybe only 1 next year.

at least the visibility wasn't too bad, and the conditions were ok, warm water and not too much swell. the cook celebrated her 1000th dive by going for a naked dive with 1000 written on her bum. we told her we didn't think she'd done 10000 dives hehehe

some boring pictures:
a little red rock cod", a seedy wee dragon, perch, sunset, pineapple fish, octopus, part of a big school of old wives, mado, blackfish, bullseyes, same again, and what usually happens when i try and take a photo of a fish, it swims away.

Friday, April 21, 2006

well it only took a couple of days for work to belt the shit out of me this week, and i'm really happy (in a dull and numb kind of way) that the weekend is nearly here.

a couple more mindless chores and hopefully i will escape relatively undamaged.

on the bright side, we're having a photo competition on the boat this weekend. which should be a lot of fun and hopefully we'll get to see a lot of spectacular photos from the contestants.

and we've just booked our next track day at eastern creek. counting down the days now...

Monday, April 17, 2006

plumber's crack or brickie's crack

i was having this argument with the cook on the weekend. she'd bought a couple of pairs of hipster type jeans, cause they were on special. like who cares if they fit, but they were on special hehehe

so every time she bends over or crouches down in the kitchen (which is often, everything is low) she's pulling them up or pulling down her shirt, or both. when i come into the galley for something or other (well i was bored, when the crew get bored, we annoy each other) she thinks i'm checking out her plumber's crack. i say for one, if i was, i'd be saying woohoo! nice plumber's crack. and for two, isn't it a brickie's crack?

i prove the first because she bends over again to, um, well, i have no idea, but i say woohoo! nice brickie's crack :-) (well, she's as cute as a basketfull of kittens, tidy as a 1994 ss 900 ducati and as smart as, um, the analogy doesn't immediately come to mind, lets just say she's a cute, smart, bombshell) the second we argue about. i don't see too many plumbers in action. but i used to be a labourer on a building site, and i've seen a few brickies and brickies' labourers in action. in summer, in the dump i lived in as a kid, they only wore the shortest shorts, rolled down and up, for maximum skin cancer action.

i think i'm really starting to enjoy my life. work hard, play hard, stay single, check out the cute chickies. look lots, but don't touch at all. hell, it works for me. goddamn, i love chickies

after a 4 day weekend on the boat, long days, long nights, i'm grinning like a cheshire cat on crack

Saturday, April 15, 2006

a big blue day

the forecast for today was the best out of the weekend. light offshore breezes and not much swell, then a change. so we decided to head outside the bay to take advantage of the conditions and try and find some clear water after the big swells last weekend.

we went a place called spider cave. the cave is fun, and not dangerous, even when there is some swell. and if you are good at finding things, there are little spiders living in the sponges on the rocks down near the sand line.

as we got there, we noticed that the water was blue, could be quite a bit clearer than inside, but a cloudy blue, so maybe not that clear. the boss asked if wanted to go for a dive. woohoo! i run around, find all my gear, find my camera, and beat the customers into the water. the boss asked if i could see the bottom from the surface, i said i couldn’t, so she said “swim closer!”.

:-p it’s an oft repeated joke but usually we tell it to the customers. only a few metres down though and i could see the bottom. at 27 metres i lay bottom under the 18m shot line, and could see the boat and divers jumping in quite clearly. took a few divers into spider cave, chased some fishies around, blinded them with my flash, and headed back out to where i’d last seen the shot line. i figured with visability this good, i’d be able to see it. i got out to the right depth, but no shotline, drat, then i spotted an eagle ray sitting on the sand. it was even clearer out there, he was over 20 metres away from me and i reckon the visability was more than 35 metres.

it swam away, then i looked at my computer, oops, 1 min and i’m gonna have to do a deco stop. so i swim back up to the cliff face and do my safety stop there, watching the other divers milling around and checking out the fishies.

i pop up to see that the boat has swung around and the swell has picked up considerably. oops. back on the boat and it’s a bit of a panic to get the anchor up and move away a bit before 80 tons of steel starts bouncing off the rocks.

beautiful clear warm water. i love my job

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

motorbikes and other cool stuff

well i reckon :-)

seein as Dirk has been waxing lyrical about lovely motorcycles i thought i would too.

well seein as i've had a few beers and am feeling loquacious, i'm just gonna spout crap and you all can skip to the next post, which hopefully will be more interesting, seeing as i'm gonna be on the boat for a 4 day weekend.

this subaru impreza is fun. lotsa fun. ran into the guy from fleet management who got it for me today. he asked me what i thought. i said i loved it. best company vehicle yet. he's driving around that toymota avalon piece of shit i inherited. he loves it. he thought that the seats in the impreza were too hard, and the ride was too harsh. well no wonder he loves the avalon. bleah!

anyway, this car loves to rev. it was a worry during the running in period, but now all is good. what do you call this type of engine? is it a horizonally opposed flat 4? it's got two piss-tins sticking out either side. injection system on top, exhaust below.

which reminds me of a dumb joke. what's the fastest and most powerful vehicle in the world?
a dunny truck. 40 piss-tins, and flies!

anyway it loves to sing. more than any car i've driven. only not as much as a motorcycle.

most bikes i've ridden, with the exception of a harley sportster i rode once, gearshift upside down and on the wrong side, love to rev. the harley was fun, but didn't really do it for me. our current toy, a 2001 suzuki gsxr1000 howls. nothing sounds quite the same as a 4 into 1 on a ujm.

the local navy base used to host the 1/8th mile drags occasionally. i believe it was only 1/8th mile because the insurance was cheaper. i went out with a coupla mates. all the cars were lined up, back from the start line, on the airstrip, all the way back to the grass. being the disorganised ferals that we were at the time, all the bikes, including those who, like me, weren't entered. were congregated in a big mess off to one side.

on of my mates, who was riding a kawasaki gpz1100r (fuel injected, went good too) asked if was gonna enter. nah, just watching, i'm cool, thanks.
"i'll lend you the 20 bucks entry" he sez
"nah, she'll be right".

then the first two bikes did their run. dunno what they were, two 4 cylinderr ujm's, howling their way up the airstrip, sending a shiver down my spin and electrifying my soul.

i ran back to my mate, borrowed the $20, went and had someone write a number on the fairing of my kawasaki gpz900r with white shoe polish, and waited for my turn. i get the instructions from the dudes at the start, i don't do a burnout, there's no point, and next to me lines up this harley with the longest set of wheelie bars, they looked to me to be longer than the bike. a big fat NOS bottle in a bracket next to the rear wheel, and they started it with one of those, um, starter thingies. (hand held, not rollers, straight onto the side of the engine). "shit!" i'm thinking of a rodney rude song "and it was over, before it began...".

anyway, the lights go off and i'm off like a rat up a drainpipe. i'm so fucking nervous i didn't even think about putting my feet on the pegs until i went to change gears and my feet were still hanging out in the breeze. i hit third, finally with both feet on the pegs and closed my visor (which i'd also forgotten about) just as i crosssed the finish line. i figured i could take either the first or second turn to get off the runway, so i wound out third, and a bit of fourth as well, up around 200ish, which isn't too exciting for serious drag people, but i thought it was fun. never saw the harley though. maybe he didn't turn on his NOS, buggered if i know. me mate said i left him at the start and accelerated away.

you had to nominate a time that you reckoned you wouldn't beat, so they could stage the start, you had to beat the other guy, but not beat your time, and they staggered the start so if both of you ran exactly your nominated time, you'd finish together. the next race i was up against this guy i knew. he usually ran around with his volkswagen, but today was on his lime-green single cylinder ducati. it was a 350 or something like that. he's sitting there on the start line, bike throbbing, i kid you not, as it idled, the drum-braked front wheel shuddered forwards and back. bom bom bom as the bike got longer and shorter on each stroke.

the lights for him went, and i'm sitting there waiting for mine. after what seemed like an eternity, and i reckon he was halfway up the 1/8th mile, they let me go. i remembered to put my feet on the pegs just after i changed into second gear this time, i was closing on him at the end as i hit third, doin maybe 150-160, and he got me at the end. then i remembered to close my visor. i figured what the hell, lets wind out fourth and fifth.

still managed to brake for the second taxiway thingy, and cruised back for what seemed like an eternity, to the waiting line on the tarmac where you got your results. i thought i'd be cool and take off my helmet as i cruised back, like some of the others were doin, but with a 16 inch front wheel, between 60-85kph, you're kinda takin' a risk of the death wobbles if you take your hands off the bars. so i didn't. next pass i did it at 120kph, before it slowed down and started wobbling :-) 2 weeks later, a better front tyre and new steering head bearings.

turned out the dude on the ducati had beaten his nominated time, i was through for a third shot!

i watched a couple of my mates do a few runs before it way my turn again. my mate on the gpz1100r did the coolest start. he had his right foot on the peg and left foot on the deck, dropped the clutch, and i reckon his back wheel stepped out nearly a foot, smoking, brought it back in and shot off like a pensioner on pay check day. (ok ok i know, but i already used rat up a drainpipe). then another mate had a run on his gsx1100. we were racing these in the post classic racing, in the "forgotten era" class, anything up to 1980. he has a great run, but his day is over, the clutch basket has exploded, bits all through the engine! doh! (before we road race next we spend a couple of hundred dollars on clutch baskets each.)

this time i'm lined up against a gpz1100r like my mates. i remember to put my visor down (well most of the way) and put my feet up quick. it's my best start yet. i spin on the start a bit, and take off, it feels fucking awesome. the dude on the gpz1100r has the horsepower though, he's in front, but as i go up through the gears i'm pulling him in, closer, closer, closer, just kick 3rd and cross the line, but he's got me by a coupla metres.

oh well, this time i was out. the dude was under his nominated time and beat me. i think i did 8.2 or 8.3 seconds. dunno how quick the quickest was. lots more though :-) hell it was fun. our sponsors (the local motorcycle wreckers hehehe) were there with their race bike and a katana. the race bike didn't have a starter motor, but rather than run and push it, like we were doing with my mate, the one riding the katana would shift his arse in the seat, put his foot on the honda 4's tailpipe, and push him up to speed. we tried it with my mates gsx1100 (cause it looked really cool) and i nearly fell off. doh!

drag racing is hell fun. although, track days are better :-D

(geez, i do spin a lot of shit when i'm drunk....)

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

accomplished a bit, took a few steps backwards, a few things appeared outta nowhere, and my to-do list is growing outta sight.

two movies i ordered off amazon.com about a month ago finally turned up. time bandits and big wednesday.

time bandits is a monty python type movie. well not exactly, but a coule of the guys out of it, and the same blend of humour. big wednesday is a 70's surfing movie. both are acquired tastes. but i guess all movies are. you won't catch me watching the sound of music. well you could, but you'd have to stab my hands to the couch and sticky tape my eyes open. ICK!

Sunday, April 09, 2006

a fairly uninventful weekend. but the surf was huge.

took the kids to the beach for a squiz on sunday morning. it was huge. my youngest says, oh, i went out once when i was like that.

bullshit i sez

so i took them to another beach, where the surf breaks a bit closer to the shore.

"oh" he sez. "count me out" or something like that.

then i take them to a place called backdoor (cause when you get a tube ride, you start behind the curl, and ride through from the back to the front, whatever else you were thinking, that ain't it). at this place you are right on top of the break. it's maybe a 3-4 metre wave. the face of the wave is well over 6 metres, maybe 7. a really good professional surfer could surf it, well even a good amateur surfer could surf it, but you'd need a helicopter to drop you out there.

i went out once when it was about 2 metres. one of my mates paddled past.

"what the fuck are you doing out here?" he sez

"trying to work out how to get back in!" i sez

Triga was sitting on the beach with a broken leg rope.

next day it dropped to about 5 foot. overhead faces, but within my comfort zone. groovy baby.

when it was 6 foot/2 metres, and i was sitting out there, and the swells were rolling in, i was shitting myself. sure it wasn't like Dirk's bull running at him. less spiky, agressive, and if it was me, less undies-need-changing but it was pretty scarey non-the-less.

Huey spun us up a whole bunch of cool surf, and i love it.

Friday, April 07, 2006

well (in a vain attempt to distract you from bilge rat stuff) my week is certainly turning out interesting.

that's a curse i read in a book once. "may you be cursed to live in interesting times"

one of the dive shops/dive clubs from sydney that comes down here on weekends, told us they were going to have a slide night on diving in papua new guinea. well we overheard them telling their customers when they were on the boat. and one lucky person on the night would win a diving holiday on one of mike ball watersport's (no Hooch, not those watersports) liveaboard boats in png.

so we invited ourselves along and drove up after work on wednesday to join in. didn't win the trip unfortunately, but had a coupla drinks and enjoyed seein the outstanding slides by some very good underwater photographers. stayed overnight at a friend's house, then got up at sparrow fart (probably morning tea for Dirk) and drove to work.

on my way to work i get a call from the boss. he's driving to canberra for something or other. bored in the car so he comes up with all these bright ideas i should be doing and rings me up to add them to my list of things to keep me occupied. but i got to work to find broken network links and relative chaos. so none of his stuff got done.

still reeling in the aftermath today, a few problems have recurred, and not really achieving much. i'm hanging out for the weekend.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

randomn drinking injuries

this'll have to be my boat story, it's not much to do with boats, although i was on a boat at the time.

seeing as i escaped early on friday night (well around 12:30) as i was stuffed after a big week, it was my turnto stay up saturday night with the customers while the boss went early to bed. then i could turn off the generator etc... when the customers all tired and went to bed.

after everyone returned from the night dive (a fair few of them went too. their navigation wasn't so crash hot though, they were popping up everywhere) we had a few quiet drinkies, then a few "crew behaving badly" drinkies, then a few noisy drinkies.

with less than even normal common sense, after a few vodka shots, and running out of cold beer (doh!) i figured i've have some vodka and lemonade drinks. i think they went down a bit quickly though, as by the time most of the people were in bed, i was seeing double and squinting out of one eye to see straight. eventually i told the chief tart (other crew member) that it was late enough that they (tart and remaining few customers) could keep drinking but i was turning off the generator. they didn't seem to mind too much, and turned on the low voltage lights and kept drinking and playing cards.

everything seemed to go well enough after that until the next morning. i woke up with a bandage on my elbow. i tried running through the night to work out what was going on. i'd shutdown ok, turned on the night lights and turned the tap so the water would flow for the dunnies, i even remember bandaging up my arm, but i've got no idea what i did to it. chief tart says she saw me leave for bed, then come back and tape myself up (with a bandaid and about a metre of elasto-plast, lucky i didn't give myself a torniquet), then i took off again.

i probably fell over on the upper deck or the stairs or something. good thing i didn't fall in the water i suppose.

i was fairly seedy the next morning, although still functional. nearly fell down a set of stairs but caught myself on a railing, feet dangling.

shoulda listened to my dad. he always told me to stick to beer and don't mix my drinks...

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Weblog Commenting by HaloScan.com